DISCLAIMER: This story contains dialogue from the Quantum Leap episode "Raped" written by Beverly Bridges.
October 30, 1997
Stallion's Gate, Los Alamos, New Mexico
Gushie stood alone behind the computer console in the control room, as Al stepped down the ramp from the imaging chamber. "Where the hell is everybody?" Al asked.
"Dr. Beeks needed a little assistance. The nurses had no luck with the girl in the waiting room, and when one of the male staff doctors went in she started screaming, and--" Gushie stopped, as Al put up his hand with the cigar in it. He had a tendency to ramble when he was nervous, which, was pretty much all of the time.
"I have some information that may be useful," Al said. "But I need to talk to Verbena alone. Can you call her to my office?"
Verbena looked irritated when she arrived. "I hope this is important, Admiral. We're really having a hard time with the--"
"Of course it's important," he scolded, motioning for her to sit down. "The girl in the waiting room is Katie McBain. And Sam leaped in while she was in the emergency room, being evaluated after she was raped."
Empathy dissolved the irritation on her face, as she slowly shook her head. "I thought that might have been a possibility." She crossed her arms, looked up briefly at the ceiling. "That certainly makes everything worse."
"Ziggy's having a harder time. She has no idea as of yet why Sam is there. He thought it was to press charges, I think, because the girl knew the slimeball that attacked her, and from what Ziggy has, he was never charged."
She stood, stuffing her hands hard into the pockets of her lab coat. "Thanks, Admiral. At least I know where to begin. But I don't know how much I'm going to be able to get from her," she said.
"Just do your best," he said with a smile.
"Admiral," she began warily, turning back to him, as an afterthought. "I know you're used to having access to the waiting room, but, I'm asking, that this time, you let me take hold of this situation. She's traumatized enough as it is. Seeing you there, feeling like she's in Dr. Beckett's body..."
"I'm not that bad, am I?" he asked, lifting a bushy eyebrow.
She smiled sweetly, too sweetly, Al knew. "We're used to you. She's not. Please, trust me on this. She may be less frightened with the female staff."
"Ok, ok. Right now Sam is doing what Ziggy says he should be doing. We have a little time, anyway. And she's still crunching numbers, based on my last conversation with Sam. But if things get worse..."
"I know, Al. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
Al worked quietly, away from everyone, since he was asked to not interfere with the girl in the waiting room, and hearing things happening without being able to act was something he didn't manage well. When he looked up, he saw how late in the day it had become. He shuffled a stack of papers back into their folder and went out to confer with Verbena before he left.
Gushie called her out for him.
"I'm heading out. Just doing a quick check before I go," Al said.
"She's sitting up. On the bed. It took almost four hours to get her to answer just basic questions. But she ate something, had some water. We don't know any more information than Dr. Beckett provided. Although, when I asked her point blank if she'd been raped, she said yes. And she volunteered that it was someone named Kevin without any prompt whatsoever. She asked where her sister was, and why she felt so strange. And why she couldn't just go home. She got upset, and stopped answering questions."
"Ziggy ran some scenarios with alternate attackers, and--"
"You're questioning her truthfulness?" Verbena said sharply.
"I'm not--"
She cut him off again. "Yes, you are. Why would she tell me? She spoke a total of five sentences in five hours. And she was lying? Come on, Admiral, you're smarter than that," she hissed, shaking her head in admonishment.
"Ziggy's just covering all the bases. She doesn't know for a fact why Sam is there. She thinks it's to press charges, because Katie never did. But she doesn't know"
"Ziggy never knows, Al. You both still always figure it out. So figure it out. She was raped by the man she said raped her. I've been a psychiatrist for as long as you've been an admiral."
"Look, it's been another almost 14 hours leap time. I've gotta go check on Sam. Just keep working," he said.
"Of course," she said, defeated.
October 31, 1997
Stallion's Gate, Los Alamos, New Mexico
"Ziggy, you were wrong!" Al said tightly, the minute the imaging chamber door shut.
"Providing probability matrices absolves right or wrong in this case, Admiral," Ziggy jabbed.
"Well, tell me now, why didn't Sam leap? He pressed charges. Why is he still there?" Al demanded.
"There is insufficient data to form another hypothesis. However, merely pressing charges does not ensure the defendant will be found guilty," Ziggy reminded him.
He was grumbling, walking down the ramp into the control room. "If that's the reason, how the hell is Sam supposed to do that? He can't testify in court about something he has no knowledge of!"
"I believe the activity you are currently engaging in is called barking up the wrong tree, Admiral. You know those are questions I cannot answer," she said.
"Yeah, well, thanks for nothing, you worthless bucket of--"
"Admiral!" Gushie screeched, over the incessant sound of Ziggy droning. "Please be nice. We don't have time for a parallel hybrid temper tantrum," he added softly. Al could see the sweat beading on his forehead and upper lip.
"Do I hear an apology?" Ziggy asked petulantly.
At Gushie's wide-eyed panic, Al called overhead, "Sorry, Ziggy. I'm just stressed." Al set the handlink down on the computer console. "Ziggy, please keep running scenarios. Inlcude whether or not Dr. Beckett has to testify. Dr. Eleese and I will be scanning the archives at the same time. We need more than we've got."
"I'm already on it, Al," Donna said as he entered her office. "Ziggy kept asking me why we don't just ask the visitor in the waiting room. Try explaining traumatic catatonia to a computer."
"The poor girl is still all shut down?" Al asked. "I thought Verbena had made some headway before I went back in."
"She did. Katie is just afraid. She's scared and confused. And all the usual prodding is making it worse. Verbena covered all the reflective surfaces in the room so she can't see Sam's reflection when she looks at herself. But she knows something isn't right."
"It's never been more important for me to be able to talk to the leapee. And I can't. I hate flying blind and guessing like this," he fretted.
"Pull up a chair. Let's get the lighthouse lit," she teased.
"That's for sailing blind, not flying," he teased back.
She rolled her eyes, half smiled, and continued reading. Al went back and talked to Sam again, then returned to continue. Donna almost didn't notice he'd come and gone. The only thing that keyed her in was the waning of the scent of his cigar. But he was worried when he returned, which after all this time, Donna knew, meant he was worrying for Sam, and his troubles.
November 1, 1997
Stallion's Gate, Los Alamos, New Mexico
"How are you going to help him?" Donna asked, as Al picked up the handlink, preparing to enter the imaging chamber. "I know we worked most of the night, but you still don't have enough information for Sam to testify!"
"I know. But the trial's going on. I can't just leave him there, Donna. I'll keep in touch with Ziggy...and...I'll think of something...if he needs to stall," he rambled.
She appreciated the willingness to stand by his friend, but she hated the insubstantial plan. She watched Al disappear into the imaging chamber. While Al was communing with the past, she meandered down the hallway to the observatory room, where, behind a double mirror, she could see inside the waiting room.
She almost never did this, hated this more than just about anything. She could never adjust to looking down there and seeing her husband, or what her mind perceived as her husband, transformed into someone else. If she turned on the audio feed, she would hear Sam's voice. But the inflection would be all wrong, sometimes the accent was strange. They would use words Sam would never say, reacted in ways Sam would never react. His body language would look foreign, even the way he walked, or sat. And each time, her heart would break, reminded so acutely of everything she had lost.
But today, she pushed those uncomfortable emotions aside, to see what was happening. Verbena had asked her to help find Katie a dress, something soft and loose, and sensible. The skin-tight fermi suit had been too much, making it far too obvious to her that her body felt different. It was plain, ivory, with long sleeves and a modern but delicate neckline. It didn't quite fit Sam's body, a little too large, but even now Donna could tell Katie felt more at ease. Katie lay flat on the bed, relaxing, as she talked. Verbena sat in the chair beside the bed, leaning forward, listening and talking gently.
Al had mentioned that when he looked at Katie, he could still see her blackened eye and cut lip. Sam's aura here looked normal, but Al had the unique opportunity, thanks to his link with Ziggy, of seeing inside the aura, both in the past and the future. Katie appeared injured in the past, though Al could see Sam's unharmed visage there as well. Sam's mouth moved when Katie appeared to speak, but with restricted movement, like her face hurt to move the muscles required for doing so.
Verbena had the hardest job of anyone at Project Quantum Leap, Donna had always thought. Quantum physics was not, as Al would tell her, small beans. There were only a handful of people who could even understand what she meant when she talked about it, she knew. But science was science. Even if you didn't know the answer, once you experimented enough, computed enough, there was an answer. Something finite and tangible. Figuring out what was wrong, sifting through a stranger's personality and problems, dilemmas, traumas, in a contracted period of time under incredible time restraint and strain, was downright miraculous, something scientists usually didn't subscribe to. She had always learned from Sam that thinking like that was wrong.
But she was talking, Donna saw. Katie had gone from incoherent shaking to calm, sensible speech in a little over a day. Keep trying, Verbena. I think we may need an even bigger miracle for Sam to leap.
Donna's reverie was disturbed when she heard Al returning once more. That was too fast, she thought. She headed back to the control room, only to hear Al tell Gushie, "He pretended to pass out."
"That was your plan? Swooning?" she asked.
"That wasn't a plan. That was flying by the seat of my pants."
"Sam had a brilliant idea!" Al declared as he emerged once more from another visit to Sam.
"He's a genius, Admiral. He has had many brilliant ideas," Ziggy responded.
"What, Al?" Donna asked.
"Katie needs to testify in Sam's place," Al said, like he was telling her a secret.
"That's brilliant? Al, that's not possible, is it?" she asked.
"Ziggy and I can figure out a way. Sam can see her, if she's touching me in the imaging chamber. She'll be able to hear the D.A. asking questions as long as she's touching me."
"But Sam can't read lips. How will he know what she's saying?" Donna asked.
"Sam needs to hear her, like he hears me," Al said.
"That would require access to Miss McBain's brain wave patterns," Ziggy commented.
"Gushie, can you tune the handlink so that I can scan Katie? So Ziggy can get the reading and alter the broadcast pattern so that Sam can hear her when she's talking?"
"I can, Admiral. But that's gonna take almost all of our power reserves to maintain for any period of time, once it's in place."
"Get Tina to help you. We only have 12 hours. And I have to convince this girl to talk before any of that technical stuff makes a hill of difference."
"You know I officially disapprove of this, Admiral," Dr. Beeks said outside the door to the waiting room. "This is not only inflicting undue harm on her, but you'll be violating every sacrosanct rule Dr. Beckett put in place if you explain in that great detail what this place is."
"I know," Al insisted. "But we've run out of time. I have to talk to her. Sam won't mind, believe me. He's counting on me being able to pull this off."
She bowed her head, in partial understanding, as she opened the door for him.
"Katie?" she asked. The pale frightened girl seated on the edge of the bed turned her face around to regard them, although Verbena only saw the face of Sam Beckett. "This is Admiral Calavicci. He's the man I told you about. The one who asked to talk to you."
"You can call me Al," he said with a smile.
"This is a military base? Like Area 51?" she asked.
"Area 51? No, no. Well--maybe, a little bit. This isn't a military base. But it is a top secret government installation," he said, sitting slowly in front of her.
She looked dismayed, about to climb out of her skin. "Don't worry, Katie. This isn't what you think it is." He watched her staring, her chest rising and falling rapidly under her clothing.
"I don't understand how I got here. I remember going to the hospital, and now..."
"Katie, you went to the emergency room on June 20, 1980 in Mill Valley, California. This room, this building, is in New Mexico. And it's November--"
"November?" she shrieked, shrill against Al's calmest voice.
His eyes softened in sympathy as he added the worst part. "1997." The pure terror in her eyes was something he had seen many times. "You're in a time travel experiment."
"This can't be real," she muttered to herself. "Time travel isn't real."
"It is. I know it sounds crazy, but it is real."
"Like Star Trek? The Twilight Zone?" she asked, gasping for air in her panic.
"Not exactly. A man named Dr. Sam Beckett built this time machine, and--"
A strange flicker of recognition clouded her features. "Sam Beckett?" she asked. Her brow furrowed, she continued, "Is that who I see when I see my reflection?"
How the hell did she know that? "Yes, it is. He sort of swapped places with you. That's how his time travel device works. He's in 1980, and everyone there sees him as you. You're here, in 1997, and everyone here sees you as him."
"Sam Beckett," she said again, as if something else was donning on her. "He had the highest IQ ever recorded at the time in like 1975, didn't he?"
Al was genuinely startled, his eyebrows shifting as he gawked at her. "Yeah. I didn't know he had a fan club."
"Oh," she said lightly. "No, it's just...my Dad. He teaches psychology. He was always interested in that stuff. And I remember him talking about it, how young he was. And how smart. Isn't his IQ over 200?" she asked.
"267," Al said, not hiding his awe of Sam as he did so. "Smartest guy in any room for as far as the eye can see."
"He's a physicist, right?" she asked again, slightly more animated.
"Yes, yes," Al told her, relishing the fact that her unique knowledge of this was somehow coming to their aid at the last minute. "I can talk to Sam, see him in the past. I appear to him as a hologram. I see him, and everything else in the past the same way."
The fear had dissipated when she looked back at him, replaced by a cautious curiosity. "Of all the places he could have gone, why did he go back to my life? At that...time?" Her voice quavered, discomfort flashing across her face.
"Dr. Beckett's experiment went a little ca-ca. He didn't test it before he used it. He has no control over where and when he goes. He's been bouncing around inside his own lifetime for over three years. We don't know how or why, but he's traveling around, helping people. Changing history, just a little bit, to make things a little better."
"How does he know what to change? That sounds scary," she said.
"You've heard that voice, right? Addressing me or Dr. Beeks, right?" he asked. She nodded. "That's Ziggy. Artificially intelligent computer. She helps us know. Sometimes."
"When can I go home? How do I get home? How does this--" Her voice had pitched higher, frantically as her worry increased.
"When Dr. Beckett fixes what he needs to fix, you go back to your life. Like magic. And you won't remember any of this. It'll feel like a dream."
"How do you know that?" she asked.
"Because in the past, Dr. Beckett can't remember things from the future. And people in the future can't remember things from the past."
He watched her eyes dart back and forth frantically. "My sister. Her name is Libby. But I can't remember what she looks like! She's my sister..." she shrieked.
Al's first instinct was to touch her arm, but he held back his hand, remembering Verbena's advice to not touch her. "Once you're home, the memories will come back. I promise. But that's part of the reason why I'm here. Sam's trying to fix things back there, in 1980. But he needs your help to do it."
"My help?" she asked.
"He has to testify in court about what happened to you. But he doesn't know what happened. He wasn't there."
"Testify? Oh no..." she said, dismayed.
"Would you have pressed charges?" Al asked her, knowing, in the old timeline, she had not.
She seemed to ponder that for a long time. "The police were there. The doctor told me they have to call, whenever a patient reports that. I...I don't know. I was scared. And now I...I don't remember. But I do remember feeling like I just wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and go to sleep. Forget that it ever happened. A trial, pressing charges...doesn't help me to do that, does it?"
Choosing his words very carefully, Al continued. "It also doesn't stop Kevin from doing it again. Hurting someone else." In for a penny, in for a pound, he thought. "Before, you didn't. Kevin got away with it. And you let it drive you away from your friends and your family."
"That's how Sam is supposed to make it better? Forcing a trial?" she asked nervously.
"We think so," he said as he puffed his cigar.
She looked at him for a long time. "But he's there...and I'm here..."
Thinking quickly, Al added, "The hologram," he said. "The engineers here are working on a way to incorporate you into the hologram. So Sam can hear you. You would come into the imaging chamber with me. So long as we are touching, he'll be able to hear you. And you can hear the lawyers talking to him, so you can answer. No one but me and Sam will be able to see or hear you."
She trembled slightly, Al could see. She sat still for a very long time. Finally, she looked back up at Al, her eyes glistening with tears. "Why me? Why is Sam helping me? He doesn't know me at all. Why would he..."
"That's Sam. That's what he does. That's who he is," Al said, growing more adamant as the sentences progressed. "He's a good guy," he added, clearing his throat as if he could wash the emotion down and away from him.
"How did he end up here, doing this?" she asked in wonder, almost as if talking to herself.
"Sam thinks it's God," Al grumbled. "Or Time or Fate or Whoever," he added, even softer.
"But you don't?" she asked, her eyes wide again.
"The jury's still out on that," he said, flicking his cigar to the side. He was trying to lighten the mood, maybe make her smile a little. He was unprepared for the torrent of tears that streamed down both cheeks. "What is it, honey?"
Her words were choppy, broken as she struggled to stay composed. "I remember. When I was in the emergency room, waiting for my sister. I was praying. I asked God to help me." She swiped the tears off her cheeks. "My mother always told me that sometimes God answers prayers with people."
The chill that ran down Al's spine was noticeable. As begrudgingly as he would like to admit, what she said sure made sense. He had stopped praying 40 years ago, out of anger and disappointment. It hadn't even been a full ask, either, but Al knew a little bit more every day that having a friend, a best friend, like Sam Beckett was the answer to a prayer.
"So you'll help him?" Al asked.
"He has to do all the hard stuff. The least I can do is help him," she said, flashing Al a watery smile.
"Thank you, Darling," he said sweetly. "The engineers are working. Get a good night's rest, and I'll be back in the morning."
Al heard the door click shut, as he turned to Verbena, who waited outside. "Nicely done, Al."
"After all that, Gushie and Tina had better figure this out," he grumbled again, uncomfortable with the praise.
November 2, 1997
Stallion's Gate, Los Alamos, New Mexico
The next morning, Katie was dressed and waiting for Al when Verbena took him into the waiting room. Al saw her rubbing sweaty palms against her skirt, smoothing it down in the process. The same ivory dress Donna had found for her hung loosely around her. "You look lovely, Honey," Al said. He saw Verbena give him a reprimanding look. He shrugged back in feigned confusion.
They all knew, affectionately, that Al was, at heart, a dirty old man. But he was sweet and charming, and at times like this, his heart of gold won out with their apprehensions.
She smiled hesitantly at Dr. Beeks, who nodded in reassurance, then set her face as she looked at Al. "Let's go, Admiral," she said.
Al explained to her, as they walked slowly down the corridor to the imaging chamber. He pulled out his multi-colored handlink, calling out, "Gushie, how are we leap time?"
"Right on time, Admiral," his disembodied voice could be heard over the intercom overhead.
"When we go in, you'll be able to see back in 1980, like you're standing in the room. But everything you see will be a hologram. You can't touch any of it. And to them, you and I don't exist. Only Dr. Beckett can see and hear us. This will be the courtroom. Your parents, and your sister are in the room, seated behind the divider. The lawyer's name is Nancy Hudson. She'll be the one asking the questions. You answer her, and Sam will repeat what you say. Sam will be on the witness stand. Because the computer's tuned to your brain waves now too, you'll see Sam, even though everyone else sees you."
She clutched her arms around herself, hugging her elbows anxiously. "Ok," she said. Her voice tremors betold her nerves.
Al took her hand. "You just hold onto me, and don't let go. I'll be right behind you."
June 24, 1980
Mill Valley, California
Her sweaty hand gave him a squeeze, as they walked together up the ramp into the room. The door clanked, and the rectangle of white light in front of them dissolved into the courtroom Al had described to her.
"We did it, Sam. We did it," Al said proudly. Sam shifted ever so slightly, catching the pair out of the corner of his eye. "Of course it took enough power to light up St. Louis for a month, but we did it."
Al watched Katie focus briefly on Sam from behind, curiosity distracting her for a moment. He angled himself beside her, holding on tight to her left hand with his right, afraid he might block her view of the attorney.
He listened as Katie, talked, hearing the echo of Sam repeating what Katie was saying. Eventually, Al tuned out Sam, as Katie's grip tightened on his hand as her answers became more painful, more disturbing. Al was thankful she wasn't looking directly at him, as he crunched his eyes closed, sick at the graphic description as she spoke. Katie lost her composure only for a second, as Al felt the bones in his hand ache as she pressed them together. She finished, Al listening to her ragged breathing.
The defendant's attorney had his turn to pepper her with questions. Lewd, hurtful questions that were biased in the asking. It made Al feel even sicker, as his hand burned where she continued to squeeze, angered and indignant at the line of questioning. Al could tell, Sam was able to stay calmer as he repeated her, something Al clung to as a possible reason for all this, for Sam's purpose. Would she have let go her anger so much that the jury would have lost sympathy for her? When the other attorney called, "No further questions," Al breathed a sigh of relief.
"You did it, Katie. You did it," Al said encouragingly.
Katie watched in fascination as Sam rose out of the chair on the witness stand, his eyes catching them both as they stood there in the white rectangle of the door. "Can he still hear me?" she asked Al, whispering out of habit.
The affirmative nod was almost imperceptible to anyone else, but Katie saw it before Sam sat down. "Thank you," she said, a broken smile creasing her careworn face. Al watched Sam's right hand make an arch away from his chin and outward, as he sat down. The motion was brief and choppy, as Al knew Sam was trying to do it nonchalantly.
"That meant 'You're welcome' in sign language," Al said softly.
The last thing Sam saw as the chamber door clunked shut was Katie smiling, pulling Al's hand down to her side as they disappeared.
November 2, 1997
Stallion's Gate, Los Alamos, New Mexico
Verbena met them the second they were down the ramp. "Good work, everyone," Al called as Dr. Beeks began walking Katie away.
"Thank you for not wincing when I almost crushed your hand," she said before Al turned down the corridor.
"Admiral Calavicci's a tough cookie, Katie," Verbena said with a half smile.
"Not as tough as this young lady," Al winked, and turned the corner.
Donna was waiting for him with a frown that looked like it weighed a hundred pounds. "It didn't change anything. Kevin was still never convicted. Katie still leaves town and never comes back."
His exhaustion seemed to crush down on him. All that, and for what? Ziggy was wrong. Testifying hadn't helped anything. And Sam was still there. Now what?
"Ziggy, any ideas?" Al called.
"Not at this time, Admiral," Ziggy said innocently.
"I'll keep working. I don't know what else to do at this point," she said. Wearily, Al agreed.
Keeping an eye on the time, Al worked quietly. He knew it was time to check on Sam, but he stopped at the waiting room again. "She asked me why she's still here," Verbena said when he neared. "She felt like once she testified, the way you explained it, she should be able to go home. She wants to go home."
"I know, I know," he said. "Ziggy's got nothing. I'm going back in. Tell her Sam's doing the best he can."
"She knows that. She told me to tell Dr. Beckett thank you for her, when I see him," she said wistfully.
"He leaped," Al said in Donna's open doorway.
"I know. I was monitoring the feed from Ziggy down here," she said, pulling the pen out of her bun, her long hair falling down over her shoulders. She leaned back in her chair, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "How much do you think that girl's going to remember? Are we in trouble here?"
"No, I don't think so. Although, that was the first time the leapee knew who Sam was by name. And she'll have less missing memories from when Sam was here. Best bet yet." He lit his cigar with his lighter, clipping it closed and tucking it into his pocket.
She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you think that happened before? That attack that Sam stopped?"
Al shook his head. "She never told her psychiatrist. But I don't think that means anything. I guess it's possible."
"She left her family, and never came back. Not even when her father died. It made me wonder," she said.
"Uh, Sam missed his father's funeral too, you know," he said.
"That was different, Al," she said defensively. "It still makes me wonder."
"Ziggy has no info, either way. There's no way to tell. But he did leap, right after he kicked that nozzle's ass," he said tartly.
"Sam was too late to stop the attack, the first one. But maybe...I mean, can you imagine if it happened again? Twice?" She shook her head, shaking off the horror at the thought.
"Well, Ziggy says the last attack got him. The police came to the house while he was still out cold. The neighbors had also called the police, because they heard the commotion. Five witnesses, plus Katie's fresh bruises. He got five years for assault and battery." Al smirked. "In the police report, Katie told them she blacked out, couldn't remember the attack, or fighting him back. She did tell the psychiatrist she thought she had a guardian angel, though, and that she had a dream about him."
Donna smiled to herself. "Sam is kind of like that, isn't he?"
