VIRTUAL SEASONS EPISODES

Theorizing that one could time-travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett led an elite group of scientists into the desert to develop a top-secret project known as Quantum Leap.  Pressured to prove his theories or lose funding, Dr. Beckett prematurely stepped into the Project Accelerator…and vanished.

He awoke to find himself in the past, suffering from partial amnesia and facing a mirror image that was not his own.  Fortunately, contact with his own time was maintained through brainwave transmissions with Al, the Project Observer, who appeared in the form of a hologram that only Dr. Beckett can see and hear.

As evil ones do their best to stop Dr. Beckett’s journey, his children, Dr. Samantha Josephine Fulton and Stephen Beckett, continuously strive to retrieve their time-lost father and bring him home permanently.  Despite returning home several times over the last decade, Dr. Beckett has remained lost in the time stream…his final fate no longer certain.

Trapped in the past and driven by an unknown force, Dr. Beckett struggles to accept his destiny as he continues to find himself leaping from life to life, putting things right that once went wrong with the hopes that his next leap…will be the final leap home.

PROLOGUE

Socorro , New Mexico

May 21, 2008

11:30 A.M.

He’d set the handgun down on the small wooden table, turning his head towards the muffled soft sound of loose gravel crunching. He smiled as he made his way over to the black sport utility vehicle slowly pulling up into an available parking space. The passenger side door opened as the engine was shut off. A moment later the driver side door opened. Two women then stepped out of the vehicle, the passenger and driver side doors slamming shut behind them.

“What’s going on here?” Christa asked as she shifted her gaze between her husband and her sister, clearly surprised to find that she had been driven to an outdoor shooting range.

“Well,” Jules said as she smiled at Ed, “Eddie and I think that it’s a good idea that you learn how to defend yourself.”

“But I don’t like guns,” Christa said with a frown. “Never have.”

“We know that,” Ed said as he gently took her hand and led her over to one of the stalls as Julianna followed closely behind, “but I don’t want to take any chances. If that guy ever comes back and takes me away, I want you to be prepared to do whatever is necessary.”

“But this,” Christa said as she waved a hand at a couple of small handguns that were carefully laid on the wooden table. “I’m not so sure about this.”

Julianna placed a hand on Christa’s shoulder. “I know how you feel about this sort of thing, but with all that’s happened recently, I really don’t see any other way. Besides,” she added with a shrug and a grin, “you’re in good hands. You’ve got two really good teachers.”

“It’s not as intimidating as it may look,” Ed offered as he picked up one of the handguns and showed it to her. “Once you learn how to properly handle one of these, the rest will be a piece of cake.”

“There has to be some other way,” Christa said nervously as she stared at the gun.

“After what we went though, I’m sorry but there really isn’t. This Leaper is one psychotic freak.” Ed thought for a moment and then took a half step back. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll start with the basics. This handgun here,” he gestured at the weapon, “is a Beretta 92FS, a nine millimeter that’s capable of holding fifteen Parabellum rounds.”

“Pair of what?” Christa asked confusedly. She sighed when she saw Julianna trying to stifle a chuckle.

“Parabellum. Hollow points,” Ed clarified for her. “When the bullet hits the target it flattens on impact, causing a considerable amount of damage to the target.”

“Oh,” Christa said, although to her the subject was rather alien to her. She let Ed guide her over to the front of the stall.

Eddie then picked up two sets of earmuffs and handed one to Julianna and the other to Christa. “You might want to wear those.” He then picked up another pair and placed them over his ears. He took a step to the left and held up the gun, pointing it straight ahead of him as he stared at Christa.

“Uh, Eddie, sweetheart?” Christa commented. “I’m no expert on guns but don’t you think you should be looking at the target and not me?”

Jules took a step forward. “Yeah, Ensign. Focus on the target and not C-” The rest of what Julianna was going to say was abruptly cut off as Ed fired three rounds in quick succession.

Christa flinched instinctively whereas Julianna barely even reacted.

Ed lowered the gun as he faced the women. “Relax, Christa. It’s perfectly all right.”

“What the hell was that?” Julianna asked as Ed grinned and pushed a white button on the side of a wooden post. He was still grinning when the target had returned on the mechanical arm. He plucked it off and handed it to Julianna as he removed his earmuffs.

“I don’t believe this,” Julianna said as she looked at it for a moment and then handed it to Christa. “Mind telling me where you learned to shoot like that?” She slipped off her earmuffs so that the band was draped around her neck.

Christa took a look at the target; three small holes riddled the center of the target.

“My grandfather had me practice with my BB gun everyday after school in the backyard. I’d shoot cans off the fence. Practically everything I know about shooting I learned from him.” Ed, obviously pleased with his accuracy, smirked as Christa handed him the target. He looked at, beaming with pride.

        “You’re telling me that you learned to hit the bull’s-eye without looking at it just by shooting cans off a fence?” Julianna asked with a raised eyebrow.

        Ed shrugged as he set the sheet of paper on the table. “In a sense,” he said as he took another sheet of paper and clipped it to the mechanical arm. He slapped the button with the palm of his hand, the arm sending the target back out onto the range. “I was taught to use my peripheral vision to see the target. That way,” he explained to Christa, “when it looked like I was staring at you, I had my sights on the bull’s-eye. If you ever find yourself in a situation, Christa, that little trick will come in handy.” He then tried to hand the gun to her, but she refused at first. After a moment or two of gentle persuasion, she reluctantly let Ed place the gun in her hand.

“I’m nervous,” she told him as her hands shook slightly.

        Ed, picking his earmuffs off the table and putting them back on, gently placed his hands over hers as he stood behind her. “It’s okay. The first thing you need to do is relax.” When he saw that she was as relaxed as she possibly could be he, then said to her, “Okay, now you need to position your body like this.” He then turned her so that she was standing slightly to the right. “Great. Now, out of the corner of your eye, do you see the target?”

        “Yes.”

        “Okay.” He then, very carefully, moved her arm so that the gun was pointing directly at the target. “There. Now look at me.” When Christa slowly looked at him he told her, “Now pull the trigger.”

        “But, Eddie, I-”

        “Christa,” he said gently, “trust me. Pull the trigger.”

        She curled her index finger around the trigger and, after a long moment, she pulled the trigger. She squeezed her eyes shut as the gun was fired.

        “That’s good,” Ed told her as he went over and pressed the call button. When the target had returned to them, he pulled it off the arm and took a look at it. The bullet had punctured the target just above the bull’s-eye. He then handed it over to Julianna.

“Not bad, sis,” Julianna praised and then handed Christa the target. “You’ll get it down. Hopefully you’ll never have to use one of these.” She pointed to the gun in Christa’s hand.

        “Like she said,” Ed told her, “you did great. We’ll continue to practice for a couple more hours and then we’ll grab something to eat and head back to the apartment.”

        “O-okay,” Christa said. Even though she was still nervous, she found that she wasn’t as nervous as she was just minutes before. This time, she smiled as Ed stood behind her closely, guiding her arm so that the gun was pointed at the target. He said something to her that made her giggle as he quickly kissed her on the neck.

        “Get a room, you two,” Julianna retorted.

        “Now there’s a great idea,” Christa said with a laugh.

PART ONE

Sharpe Residence

Stallion’s Springs, New Mexico

June 11, 2008

7:02 A.M.

Christa sighed in contentment in her husband’s arms. After all that they had gone through, the loss of their child and their intense marriage counseling afterwards, it was good to be in a romantic relationship again with the love of her life. She knew now, without any doubts in her mind whatsoever, that Ed was not responsible for their unborn child’s death. She also knew that Ed would do literally everything in his power to protect her from harm and that she would do the same for him. In a way, it was poetic justice that the work the Evil Leaper had done to try to tear the Calavicci family apart had the opposite effect, making the family stronger.

        Ed and Christa were now fully aware of Lothos and his plans to put wrong what had been right. They also knew that Lothos’ leaper had murdered their unborn child. When Julianna had told them, under Al’s authorization, that there were forces working against the good Sam Beckett had been doing in the past, it was almost unbelievable. But neither of them could find any other reason for Ed’s odd behavior at various times during Christa’s pregnancy. And the multiple leaps into Ed certainly explained the horrible nightmares that he’d had during that time. After what Ed had gone through – and only he knew those horrors, keeping them closely guarded – who could blame him for being a little paranoid?

        Christa looked upon her husband with a smile as he slowly opened his eyes. “Good morning,” she greeted before leaning over and gently kissing his lips.

        Ed looked a little lost for a moment as the fog of sleep dissipated. Slowly, he returned the smile and the kiss. “Good morning. You were amazing last night.”

        Christa blushed slightly as she started to roll out of the bed. Ed stopped her by reaching out his hand and grabbing her arm, pulling her back onto the bed to start their previous nocturnal activities anew. His advanced were halted by Christa’s firm hand pushing him away from her.

        “You have to get to work,” Christa lectured him. “And as tempting as it is to let you be late, I don’t think Daniel would appreciate it as much as I would.”

        Ed chuckled slightly at her words. “I doubt it,” he agreed as he slipped out of the bed and started for the bathroom. “What are you going to do today, now that the vacation is over?”

        Christa mulled the question over, mentally thanking her father and Verbena Beeks for insisting that she and Ed spend a few days at home together. The last week had been the best thing for their marriage since their honeymoon.

        “I think I’m going to go down to the range and practice,” she told him as she noticed him undressing for his shower. “I’m just now getting use to the idea of being an owner. I figure I probably need all the practice time I can get.”

        Ed just nodded at her words as he turned on the shower. “Sounds good to me, honey.” His voice sounded distracted.

        Christa grinned slightly, knowing that Eddie really hadn’t listened to what she said. She tested her theory immediately. “Then afterward, I thought I’d go all Britney Spears and shave my head.”

        “Have a good time,” came the response, gaining a giggle from Christa, who shook her head before slipping on a robe and heading for the kitchen.

        Breakfast was waiting for Ed when he finally emerged from the bedroom, dressed in his khaki Navy uniform. As he sat to eat, he noticed Christa smirking at him from across the table.

        “What?” he questioned with a slight frown.

        “You don’t really want me to shave my head, do you?” she teased.

        “What?! No!” he exclaimed with surprise. His frown increased when Christa started giggling at his reaction. “Mind letting me in on the joke?”

        “It’s nothing,” she told him. “You’re just adorable when you’re confused.” She decided not to torture him too badly. “You weren’t really listening to me when you went to shower.”

        “Is that where the head shaving comes from?” Seeing Christa giggle again, he sighed slightly. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to ignore you like that.”

        “It’s okay,” she assured. “It’s our first day back to work in a while. It doesn’t surprise me that you’re a little out of it. I’ll probably be the same way when I go back to work.” Seeing the slight frown on his face, she clarified, “I promised Janet Lyons that I’d be back at the library this afternoon to help with the annual Book Festival.”

        “Right, you’re a librarian,” Ed murmured slightly before smiling. “All those eager young minds wanting something exciting to read… sounds like you’re going to have your hands full.”

        Christa huffed slightly. “More like all those eager parents wanting their children to be the next Sam Beckett. I get a kick out of it, though. Seeing those little kids with their passion for reading… it’s what makes the job worthwhile.”

        Ed smiled slightly at her words as he looked at his watch. “Crap! I’m running late.” He quickly stood from the table, gulping down the remainder of his cup of coffee before starting for the door. He paused, hurried back to kiss Christa lovingly, and rushed out onto the driveway and into his vehicle of choice, a pristine, cherry red 2007 Dodge Ram Hemi.

        Just as he slammed the driver side door shut and started to buckle himself in, he paused as he tilted his head slightly to the left, and frowned. He then squeezed his eyes shut as he clamped his hands down over his ears. “Not again, damn it,” he muttered to himself as he heard the voice once again, echoing from some dark corner of his mind. “No! Go away!” His hands dropped to his side as he threw his head back and yelled, “You hear me? Get the hell out of my head!” After taking several long, deep, calming breaths, he adjusted the rear view mirror and took a quick look at himself before slipping the key in the ignition and turning it. As the engine rumbled to life, he took one last moment to get a grip on things before backing out of the driveway.

        As he steered the truck onto the highway that would take him directly to the Project, he reached over and opened the glove box. While keeping an eye on the road, he rifled through the glove box’s contents and grinned when he produced a slightly scratched CD. With one hand, he closed the glove box as he held the CD, the words “Dire Straights” written in black marker on its surface. With a grin, he slipped it into the player. This was exactly what he needed to help calm his nerves.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

New York City , New York

September 6, 1988

7:48 A.M.

The world shook violently around Sam Beckett, quantum physicist and time traveler, so much so that he thought that he was perhaps in the epicenter of a massive earthquake. His arms felt as if they were about to come out of their sockets as they bounced in rapid succession, causing his hands to fly open. Screaming in confusion and astonishment he stumbled back, landing flat on his derriere, gasping for air as he tried desperately to understand not only where he was but also what was happening.

The moment he was able to gain his breath back, he realized that, first and foremost, not only was he unharmed but also the world around him didn’t seem as if it were in any kind of danger of falling on top of him. Rather, the opposite seemed to be the case. Tall columns of steel and wood surrounded him as the cacophony of machinery running filled his ears. Looking down upon himself, he noticed that he was wearing a pair of faded but durable work jeans, a short-sleeved white but stained t-shirt, and a set of heavy steel-toed boots. The weight of a heavy hat on his head and the sight of a jackhammer laying several feet from him completed the picture.

        Slowly standing up again, he looked about the area as if it were a foreign land. It might as well have been to Sam. His world never delved into this before he started quantum leaping and he couldn’t remember ever being in a similar situation.

        “I’m a construction worker!” he stated to himself with surprise before giving a slightly derisive laugh. He pointed to the jackhammer accusingly. “So you’re my earthquake.” Shaking his head, he sighed. Why does He insist on throwing me in at the most inopportune times?

        Figuring that he should at least pick up the jackhammer and put it in a safer place, he took a step towards the offending piece of hardware. However, he stopped as a movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he noticed a teenage girl hurrying towards the construction gate. The girl looked briefly to see if anyone had seen her and gasped at the sight of Sam watching her. Quickly, she rushed through the gate, prompting Sam to follow her, passing a dumpster as he did so.

        He had gotten no more than a couple of feet passed the dumpster when he heard a soft and desperate mewing from behind him. At first, he brushed the sound off as a cat that had become trapped in the dumpster. Knowing that the girl was probably now blocks away and that he would never be able to catch up to her without Al’s assistance, he turned back. Well, at the very least, I can help the cat out of the dumpster, he thought as he carefully lifted the lid and pushed it forcibly back in its hinge.

        However, with the dumpster now open, the peculiar sound that had caught his attention became much more pronounced, sending a chill down his spine. Looking in, he saw the small bundle of cloth shifting as the horrifying sound screamed beneath its folds.

        “Oh, my God!” Sam exclaimed, hurriedly climbing into the trash to retrieve the bundle and pull it out carefully. His green eyes quickly searched as he hurried into the open street with the bundle, looking for the girl who had caught his eye only moments ago. The girl was nowhere in sight, just as he feared.

        Carefully returning to the construction area, he held the bundle carefully as he unwrapped it to reveal a small bright pink face screaming for attention. A quick examination showed that the newborn baby girl seemed to be okay.

        “I don’t understand that,” a sad gravelly voice exclaimed to Sam’s right. “How can anyone just throw a baby – an innocent helpless human being – into a dumpster like everyone else’s garbage! The whole thing makes me sick!”

        “Al,” Sam said quickly, looking at him for help as the child squirmed in his arms. “What the hell is going on here?”

        “Isn’t it obvious?” Al questioned, gesturing to the baby. “You’re here to save that little girl’s life. It’s September 6, 1988, and you’ve leaped into Jeff Thornton, the foreman on this construction site for a new condominium community in New York City . According to Ziggy, little baby Jane Doe here originally wasn’t found until two days from now after the dumpster was emptied.”

        “Two days?!” Sam exclaimed, glancing at the child. “She was in that dumpster for two days?!”

        “Until you came along and pulled her out,” Al corrected. “How’d you find her anyway? I ran in here the moment Ziggy told me what you were here to do.”

        Sam exhaled slowly. “I saw a teenage girl running from the site and was going to see what was wrong with her when I heard something coming from the dumpster. I didn’t know it was a baby crying until I opened the thing up.”

        “Well, thank God you did,” Al told him. “Originally, Jeff didn’t see or hear anything. The poor girl died in that dumpster and Jeff, when he found out that he had been only a few feet away as the teenager threw away her own child… well, it shook him to his core. The whole thing ate him up so much that he spent the rest of his life pretty much to himself. No friends, no family… nothing. And he stayed that way until he died in 1999 – a freak accident while on the job.”

        “And now?” Sam questioned.

        “Now, history is wide open for change with this timeline. Anything could happen. But my personal suggestion is to get little Jane some help.”

        "I don't know about that name, Al. I think she looks more like a...Thelma." Sam tickled the baby's nose, causing her to squirm a little in protest. "Yeah. Thelma Louise."

        "After your mother," Al commented with a fond, warm smile.

        "I think it fits," Sam told him quietly. “After all, they’re both very strong ladies.” He paused for a moment to gaze at the child’s face before addressing Al again. “What about the mother?”

        “Worry about the mother later, Sam,” Al told him bluntly. “The baby is more important right now. You’ve got to get her to the hospital so that she can get checked out. After you do that, you’ll probably leap right out. I’m sure the hospital will make sure that she is placed with a good family.”

        Sam nodded slightly, though a thoughtful look clouded his face. Mentally shaking any questions that he had, he looked around again. Al was right; the baby had to come first in this instance.

        “So where’s Jeff’s car?” he finally asked the Observer.

        “Just outside of the gate,” Al told him after consulting the handlink. “He owns a red 1985 Toyota 4Runner. But before you go, you’d better let someone know that you’re going to be gone for a few hours and put someone in charge while you are gone. You’re the foreman here; you can’t just up and leave without doing at least that.”

        “Al,” Sam protested as he looked around. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to be walking around this place with a newborn in my arms, looking for my co-workers.”

        Al looked around as well. Seeing a figure a short distance away, he pointed to the figure. “What about him, Sam? He’s not doing anything that might hurt the baby and I’m sure that he knows the chain of command here.”

        “Are you sure?” Sam questioned as he started for the man standing thirty feet from him. “I mean that the baby will be safe over there.”

        “Hey, I know a little about the construction business, Sam,” Al assured him. “My dad was a contractor, remember?” As they came closer, Al practically froze in his steps as the man turned and smiled while Sam approached him. Closing his eyes, he shook his head slightly before opening them again to verify what he was seeing.

        “What’s up, boss?” the man asked, tossing a cigarette on the floor as he stuffed a pack of Pall Malls into his flannel shirt’s breast pocket. The man was about average height with dark brown eyes and curly brown hair. His olive complexion and the slight accent in his voice told that he had once been a resident of the Mediterranean . He looked at the small bundle in Sam’s arms, his eyes widening at the sight. “Where did the bambina come from?”

        Sam quickly explaining what had just happened at the dumpster, gaining a stunned look from the worker. When Sam mentioned taking the girl to the hospital to get checked over, the worker insisted on doing the driving.

        “Boss, she is too small to not be held or be in a baby carrier,” the man told him. “I know; I have two little ones, a boy and a girl. We need to make sure she gets to the hospital safely. I will drive; you hold her.” The man started away from Sam. “I will go tell Mr. Larry and then we will go.” When Sam started to protest that it wasn’t necessary, the man turned back to him. “Yes, boss, it is. Trust Gino, eh?” The worker quickly turned again and hurried away to do as he said.

        Sam smiled with appreciation as he turned towards Al. His face dropped slightly as he noticed the stunned look on his friend’s face.

        “Al, what’s wrong?” he questioned with concern.

        “Huh?” Al blinked for a moment, only then realizing that Sam had asked a question. “Oh. Oh, um… nothing. It’s just…” He pointed to the retreating construction worker. “My dad’s nickname was Gino. I guess that guy reminds me a lot of my dad. He even looks like him.”

        Sam grinned gently at Al’s words. “Looks like I’m not the only one seeing loved ones in other people’s faces.” He turned his attention to the girl in his arms. “I sure miss her, Al.”

        Al didn’t have to wonder what Sam was talking about or that the statement meant that his friend remembered that his mother had passed on. The statement and the sight of Gino returning to them caused his chest to tighten slightly with emotion.

        “Yeah,” Al commented, lowering his head. “I miss him.” He rubbed at his eye with his right thumb before raising the handlink. “Well, since Gino is going to make sure that you get little J… Thelma to the hospital, I’m going to go back and see if I can’t get more information on her future. I have a feeling you aren’t just here to make sure Thelma gets to a hospital.”

        Gino stopped in front of Sam with a smile. “Okay, boss. Let’s go.”

        Sam nodded in agreement to both Gino and Al. Sam followed Gino as Al opened the Imaging Chamber door and stepped through it.

PART TWO

Project Quantum Leap

Stallion’s Gate, New Mexico

9:31 A.M.

“I was afraid that little girl wasn’t going to make it. I can’t believe that a mother could do that to her own child, especially an infant,” Al stated as he walked down the ramp that led to the Control Room. Glancing over at Dominic Lofton, who stood behind the control console inputting data, he said, “What’s the world come to, huh?”

        “It’s quite a shame,” Dom added as he continued to check the data readings. “What the hell was that girl thinking?”

        “She wasn’t,” Al retorted. “I’m just grateful that Sam was able to save her life.” He handed the handlink to Dom and accepted a newly charged one in exchange as he spoke. “Ziggy, I need some scenarios ran concerning this leap.”

        “What scenarios, Admiral?” the parallel-hybrid computer questioned, seemingly interested in what Al’s answer would be.

        “Projections on Thelma’s life now that she is safe and heading to the hospital for a thorough check-up,” Al clarified.

“I see that you have decided to use Grandmother’s name just as Father has chosen to do.”

        Al looked up at the spherical blue orb that housed Ziggy’s intellect with a slight frown. “Grandmother?”

        “Thelma Louise Beckett, of course,” Ziggy clarified.

        Al shook his head slightly. “Of course. Why do I bother even asking?” He sighed slightly. “Do you have any projections about this girl’s future?”

        “Thelma Johnson remained in various foster homes until she reached the age of sixteen, at which time she dropped out of high school and moved out of her foster parents’ home. According to the records that I could find concerning her, she is currently living on the streets somewhere in New York City .”

        “On the streets?” Al questioned with a paternalistic frown. “That’s no way for a teenage girl to live. Are you sure?”

“Of course, I am, Admiral,” Ziggy told him bluntly. “There are police records that indicate she has been arrested several times for vagrancy.”

        Al closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. “We can’t let that happen,” he said mostly to himself.  He thought for a moment before raising his head. “What about Jeff Thornton? What happens to him?”

        “Mr. Thornton’s history has not changed, Admiral. Apparently, he would have lived a rather lonely life regardless of Dr. Beckett rescuing the child from the dumpster.”

        A pensive look crossed Al’s face before he smiled slightly. Tipping his head towards the exit, he said, “I think I should go check up on the Visitor.” Al then took his leave, walking across the Control Room and towards the corridor that would take him directly to the Waiting Room. When he rounded the corner, he saw Ensign Sharpe standing guard.

        “Good afternoon, sir,” Ed said as he saluted Al.

        Al returned the salute. “How you holding up, Ed?”

        Keeping his gaze on the wall ahead of him, Ed replied. “Not one of my better days, sir, but not my worse, either.”

        Al chuckled. “Trust me, Ed, it’ll get better. How’s Christa doing?”

        “She’s at the library,” Ed said. “I guess it’s Book Day over there and she’s helping out a friend of hers.”

        Al nodded but then frowned at Ed’s words. “Ah, Ed, couldn’t every day at a library be considered Book Day?”

        Ed only smirked in response. The smirk quickly faded, however, into a grimace.

        “Ensign?” Al questioned with concern, touching his shoulder. “Ed?” he pressed when he saw Ed raise his hands to his head.

        “Get out of my head!” Ed growled under his breath, his eyes closed tightly. Swallowing, he noticed the look on Al’s face and slowly lowered his hands.

        “Ed, what’s wrong?” Al demanded softly. “I don’t tell me nothing. I know better.”

        Ed swallowed tightly before nodding. “It’s the nightmares, sir… Dad. I’m still having nightmares and…” He trailed off, not wanting to admit to his father-in-law that he was certain he was slowly going insane.

        Al’s eyes softened with sympathy for his youngest daughter’s husband. “Maybe you should go talk to Dr. Beeks again. It’s obvious you haven’t completely come to terms with what happened.”

        “Admiral, I…” Ed started to protest.

        “Don’t make me make it an order, Ed,” Al told him. “I’m calling Verbina to let her know that you’re on your way.” He gently took his shoulders. “And if you need more time off, it’s yours. Your job won’t be going anywhere.”

        Ed exhaled slowly and nodded again. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

        Al released his hold on Ed and gestured down the corridor with his head. “Go on. We’ll talk after you see Verbina.”

        Again, Ed nodded and slowly walked down the corridor that would lead to the elevator and Dr. Beek’s office.

        Al watched Ed for a moment before having Ziggy patch him through to Verbina’s office. Telling the psychiatrist that Ed would be at her door soon, Al then went up the ramp and stood before the retinal and palm scanners. After leaning down for the retinal scan, he then placed his hand on the small octagon scanner. After his identification was confirmed, the heavy metallic door of the Waiting Room slid open.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Project Quantum Leap

Stallion’s Gate, New Mexico

Office of Dr. Verbena Beeks

June 11, 2008

9:45 A.M.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” Verbena Beeks smiled at the young, tense Ensign as she closed the door and went over to her desk.  She saw the look of trepidation on him as he stood by her desk, looking about the office. She then gestured towards the chair on the other side of her desk. “Take a seat.”

        “Sure,” Ed replied a bit nervously as he slowly went over to the chair and took his seat. After taking a moment or two to get comfortable, he brought up a hand and ran it through his hair. “I-I don’t know what to say here, Doc. I just don’t.”

        Verbena nodded and said, “Let’s start at the beginning.” Shuffling through a thin stack of papers on her desk, she read them before continuing with the session. “The Admiral sent you to me because he said that you’ve been having those nightmares still, am I correct?”

        Ed bobbed his head. “You see, even before the hospital incident I was having those bad dreams, b-but then, afterwards it got worse. After the hospital, the dreams got even more intense, and then just a couple days ago I started hearing this voice.”

        Verbena asked, “And what does this voice say to you?”

        Ed licked his lips as he brought a hand on to the nape of his neck, rubbing at it nervously. “I-I try to block it out most of the time, Doc.” Leaning back in his seat, he sighed and then said, “This voice—it says horrible things to me. Like the voice in my nightmares.”

        Verbena wrote something down on her notepad. “Tell me, Edward,” she said as she continued to write, “what exactly does this voice say to you?”

        Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Ed closed his eyes as he swallowed. “The voice, alright, tells me that I ki-killed my daughter and poisoned my wife.” Ed’s eyes began to water; he blinked a few times to drive the tears back. “I recognize the voice yet I don’t, if that makes any sense. I mean,” Ed leaned forward in his seat and looked Verbena in the eye, “I can remember hearing this voice before but I can’t remember exactly when.”

        Verbena tilted her head slightly as she asked, “Is this voice male or female?”

        “Male. He sounds older, well,” Ed smirked as he shrugged, “older than me anyways. It’s been following me around these past couple days. What’s wrong, with me, Doc? A-am I going insane?”

        Verbena thought for a moment. “I think that we need to further continue this session before I come to any conclusions.”

        Ed exhaled slowly as he wiped at his brow. “Could this get me kicked out of the Navy?”

        “I won’t lie to you,” Verbena replied. “If you don’t receive the proper treatment then it could very well happen. However,” she said when she noticed Ed’s uneasiness quickly escalate, “I am certain that we can get to the root of your problems. Now,” she said with a pleasant, warm smile, “tell me, Edward, do you feel responsible for your daughter’s death?”

        Ed’s eyes went wide at first but then, after taking a deep breath, he settled back in his seat and said, “Y-yeah, well, a part of me does, anyway. I feel that I should have done something more to protect Christa, you know? I mean, I’m her husband, I’m supposed to protect her. Look at me now. I’m falling apart at the seams, I can’t focus on my work, and Christa’s even thinking that I’m troubled.”

        “It’s completely understandable,” Verbena told Ed. “In these past few months alone, both you and Christa have gone through such tragedy, let alone the rest of her family. I think the voices in your head are your mind’s way of trying to sort it all out.”

        “What do you mean?” Ed was confused. “The voices are telling me that it was my fault that the baby died.”

        “Exactly, you just got done telling me that you feel guilty for what happened to your baby. The voices in your head are telling you the same thing.”

        Ed rubbed his eyes and sighed. “So, Doc, do you think that this,” he said with a wave of the hand, “is some way of self punishment?”

        “It could very well be.”

        “Oh, great,” Ed mumbled. “This is the last thing I ne--” He abruptly stopped when he frowned, and then a moment later pinching the bridge of his nose.

        “What is it, Edward? What’s wrong?” Verbena was about to sit up when Ed held up a hand.

        “I’m okay, Doc, really. I-I just get a headache whenever I think about it all.”

        Verbena held her gaze on the young man, not speaking her true feelings on the matter. Instead, for the time being, she felt it best to further explore the reasons behind the ‘voices’. “Exactly when did you start hearing this voice, Edward?”

        About an hour and a half later, the session had finished. Ed had left her office with a slightly clearer head. Granted, he still felt rather troubled but he knew that it wouldn’t all be taken care of with just one visit to Verbena Beeks.

        He told her everything that had been going on with him since the heartbreaking events that took place at the University of New Mexico Hospital. What he didn’t tell her was that, in the middle of the session, he had heard the voice talk to him. It was bad enough that the Admiral had thought that he was falling apart, but if Verbena Beeks thought the same thing, then she could very well send in a recommendation for separation from the Navy, and that was something that he simply couldn’t allow.

        Even as he followed the long, empty corridor back towards his post outside the Waiting Room, he could still hear the voice calling to him. Determined at all costs to block it out, he simply kept moving, even whistling a bit, anything he could do to drive it away. About a couple minutes later he had arrived at his post and properly relieved the previous guard, Corporal Henson.

        “Stay focused,” he told himself as he stood at the base of the ramp. Corporal Henson glanced over his shoulder as he walked away, obviously having heard the young officer. Ed held his gaze on the gray wall in front of him.

        Another hour had passed before Ed had fallen victim yet again to what one could consider a mental breakdown. The voice had returned once more. At first, it seemed as if it was nothing more than mere echoes, coming at him from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. And then, as the moments turned into minutes, the voice grew louder and more prominent. He held his breath as he closed his eyes, his heart rate rapidly increasing. Exhaling slowly he cracked open an eye, and then, when the voice had seemingly vanished, he opened his other eye. Stealing a couple quick glances to either side of him, he saw that he was still alone; the Admiral had yet to leave the Imaging Chamber. As his heart had reluctantly calmed back down, he was actually able to recollect his thoughts.

        There was one thought that was clear in his head, though he did not understand why it pierced all other thoughts so sharply. He didn’t know why but he had to get to the infirmary. It was absolutely imperative that he did so immediately. Looking around again, he noticed Ensign Pierce walking down the corridor away from him.

        “Bill!” he called out, gaining the ensign’s attention. Seeing Bill turn his head to see the source of the calling, Ed gestured him to come over. When his colleague was close enough to talk to without shouting, Ed asked, “Can you stand guard until my relief for lunch comes?” Getting a frown from Bill, Ed clarified, “Christa’s meeting me for lunch in the cafeteria at one and I’ve got a blazing headache. I want to go to the infirmary and see if Doc Lofton has anything to help. But I don’t want to be late for my lunch date.”

        Bill looked at his watch with questioning. “0100 is forty minutes away, Ed,” he pointed out.

        “Yeah, and have you ever been waiting for help in the infirmary at lunch time?” Ed pointed out. Seeing the hesitation in Bill’s eyes, he goaded gently, “Come on. I promise I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take you to an Isotopes game.”

        Bill exhaled slowly. “Okay,” he finally agreed. “But if we get caught by the Chief, it’s your ass.”

“Deal,” Ed agreed quickly as he stepped away from the Waiting Room door. “Thanks, Bill.” Then, without looking back, he marched quickly for the elevator.

        As he approached the infirmary, the voice returned yet again but this time instead of forcing it out of his mind, he listened closely. The voice was telling him to go into the infirmary, that the answer to his confusion was there. Images of pain and death flooded his mind the closer he got to the infirmary doors but Ed pushed the thoughts back almost instinctively, like it were something that he had to do on a daily basis for nearly his entire life. Right now, that past that never happened in the life of Edward Sharpe IV didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was for the voice to stop haunting him and for the world to finally become clear after so long.

        Walking through the infirmary doors, he looked around to see Nurse Melissa Henderson doing an inventory of the infirmary’s supplies. She raised her head when the door opened and she smiled gently towards the visitor.

        “Hello, Ensign,” she greeted. “What can we do for you?”

        “I…” he started, looking around the infirmary. “Headache,” he finally answered.

        Melissa gave him a sympathetic look and started towards him. “Let’s see what we can do to help you with those,” she told him as she gently took his arm and guided him to an examination table. She opened her mouth to ask the necessary questions but not a word came out when she felt a hand on her elbow.

        “It’s okay, Nurse,” Dr. Bremmer told her with a slight smile. “I will take care of the ensign. You go back to inventorying the supplies. Doctor Lofton wants a thorough account of everything before the end of the day.”

        Melissa hesitated before nodding slightly. “Yes, Doctor,” she replied and then gave the patient a genuine smile. “I hope you feel better soon, Ensign.”

        The patient nodded slightly to the nurse as she left. He raised his eyes to Roy Bremmer with expectation.

        “Now,” Bremmer started, tucking his hands into his lab coat. “What can I do for you… Ensign?” He gave the patient a knowing smile.

        Vaughn Rickar now knew what he had to do. Upon seeing the face of Roy Bremmer, he was able to pull out of the psychosynergizing that had been hindering him for the past few days, preventing him from completing the task at hand. It all made sense to him now; the voice he had been hearing was none other than Gillis Woods’. With his head on straight, he was once again in control. He would not fail Lothos twice. 

PART THREE

Project Alexander Holding Chamber

Somewhere in the British Isles

Sometime in the Year 2020

Ed Sharpe sat on the narrow examination table as he glanced down at the tight fitting black body suit that he’d found himself to be wearing. His memory riddled with holes, he tried to figure out how he’d arrived there in the first place. Nothing seemed to make sense to him as he swept his gaze across the red walls of the strange, yet oddly familiar room. He had been there before, that much he did know. Exactly when and how often was another question. Slowly he pushed himself from the table and stood there, the floor rather cold beneath his bare feet.  “Where the hell am I?” he mused to himself as he looked around the large, featureless room. Over to his left was a small ramp that led up to a heavy metallic door. Seeing no other doors or windows present he hesitantly made his way towards the door when it unexpectedly slid upward, casing Ed to stumble back in surprise.

        “Good evening, Ensign Sharpe.”

        Ed leaned back a bit, eyes narrowed, as he tried to see the person standing in the doorway. “Who are you?”

        “It’s a shame you don’t remember me,” the person replied in a cool, calm fashion. “But we all remember you quite well.” After a moment the door slid shut behind them.

        Ed watched as he saw two people step down the ramp. Both were male, although one was a bit older and slightly shorter than the other. He was dressed in dark slacks, a gray button up shirt and a long white coat, like the sort that doctors often wore. Next to him was a small silver cart that held what had appeared to be a variety of surgical instruments. Behind him was a taller man with dark wavy hair and who possessed an athletic build.

        “What the hell is going on here? How did I get here?” Ed’s eyes locked onto the silver cart. “What is this?”

        “Aren’t we just full of questions,” the older man replied.

        Ed forced himself to look away from the cart. He held his gaze on the man as a few memories had managed to seep through the holes of his mind. “You’re name...is Xavier, isn’t it?” Ed asked a bit hesitantly.

        “So you do remember me after all,” Xavier said with a smile. “I wonder what else you can remember.”

        “How did I get here?” Ed asked again as he gazed at Xavier.

        Xavier then pointed past Ed, to the narrow examination table. “Perhaps you’ll find the answer to your question over there.”

        With a furrowed brow, Ed took a few steps back as his gaze never left Xavier. When he lightly bumped into the table he steeled himself to turn around and lean over its reflective surface. When he saw the face of Vaughn Rickar stare back at him, Ed shook his head. “N-no. No, this isn’t...possible.” He reached out with his hand and lightly touched the glass, closely looking at Vaughn’s reflection. “Can’t be,” he breathed. He jerked a bit as Xavier’s face suddenly came into view next to Vaughn’s. Ed shifted his eyes as he got a much closer look at the other man.

        His white hair was neatly groomed, and he had about him an air of authority. His blue eyes gleamed as he stared into the mirror, and it was at that moment that Ed saw the hint of madness in Xavier’s eyes.

        “Who is this?” Ed asked.

        “That, my friend,” Xavier explained, “is you.”

        “That’s not possible,” Ed quickly replied. The more he held his gaze on the mirror, the less sure he was about what little he could remember.

        “Tell me something, Edward. How does it make you feel to know that this man,” Xavier said as he gestured at Vaughn’s reflection, “is with your wife as we speak? You know, I hear he’s got quite a bedside manner.”

        Anger flashed in Ed’s eyes as he pushed himself from the table. “No! Stay the hell away from Christa, you hear me? Stay the hell away from her!”

        That only made Xavier laugh as he stepped back from the table and went over to his cart. “It’s already too late for that,” he told Ed as he then looked over at the other man who had stood next to Xavier. “Go ahead and get our friend here situated while I prepare.”

        “Of course, sir,” the man said as he started towards Ed.

        Ed quickly went around to the other side of the table. “Stay back,” he said as he held a hand up defensively. “Stay back!”

        “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” the man told Ed as he moved around the table.

        Ed quickly glanced around the room and found no apparent means of escape. As the bigger man approached him, Ed tensed his body and brought up his fists. When the man reached out and tried to grab him Ed leaned to the side and then swung his fist at the man’s face. Unfortunately, the other man was quicker and grabbed Ed’s fist. Twisting his arm behind his back, Ed was led back over to the table where he was picked up and thrown onto it a bit forcibly. From somewhere underneath the table top the man pulled out a thick, tan colored leather strap that went across Ed’s shoulders. After he’d fastened the first restraint he then went to the other end of the table where he pulled out another thick strap and then proceeded to retrain Ed’s legs.

        “What are you going to do to me?” Ed asked as the man then stepped back as Xavier approached him, with a scalpel in hand.

        “It’s really simple,” Xavier told him. “All you have to do is tell me what you can remember about Beckett and his Project.”

        “Not a chance,” Ed said defiantly. His eyes then locked onto the scalpel as Xavier brushed it up against his cheek. Ed could feel its razor sharp tip press against his sweat soaked flesh.

        “Have you ever wondered just exactly how your lovely young wife got those scars on her face?”

        “Y-you did that to her?” Ed stammered as his eyes followed the movement of the scalpel with such intensity, such absolute, heart stopping terror that nearly made each spoken word a struggle to speak.

        “Not me,” Xavier said, “but rather an associate of ours, and it was because of Beckett that she is no longer with us.” He then pressed the tip of the scalpel down on Ed’s cheek and very slowly and carefully pulled it back, leaving behind a thin line of blood. Ed screamed in pain as Xavier leaned back, carefully studying the paper-thin cut he’d just inflicted on Ed. He then went around to the other side of the table and leaned over Ed, bringing the tip of the scalpel against his other cheek. He studied Ed’s face, twisted with terror, for a moment before carefully drawing back the tip of the scalpel; Ed’s screams not fazing him in the slightest. After several moments Ed had stopped screaming. His face was bloodied and nearly drained of its color.

        “P-please,” Ed pleaded, his glassy eyes affixed to the ceiling, “s-s-stop, okay? J-Just stop.”

        “Not just yet,” Xavier said after a moment. “I don’t think you’re quite ready.” He then moved along the table and then reached over and brought the scalpel down on Ed’s chest where he started to cut at the fabric of the body suit.

        “No,” Ed breathed as Xavier neatly made a thin cut in the suit. He then ripped it open and brought the scalpel down on Ed’s bare chest. “Don’t, I beg of you. Please.” 

        Xavier said nothing as he moved the scalpel over his chest, stopping just above Ed’s sternum. The tip of the scalpel, which had no doubt been recently sharpened with razor thin precision, caught some of the light from the ceiling, gleaming brilliantly. The corner of his mouth curled slightly as he brought the scalpel down and over the left side of his rib cage. Xavier held his gaze on the terrified young naval officer, appearing like a scientist who was closely studying a specimen.

        “Oh, God,” Ed whispered. As unrelenting and gripping was the fear that held him captive, as much as he wanted to look the other way, his brown eyes were glued to the implement of pain.

        The tip of the scalpel pressed against Ed’s dampened flesh.

        Xavier’s burly assistant’s stance barely wavered as he stood beside Ed, watching him, his face void of any emotion whatsoever.

        Then, at that moment, the spacious Holding Chamber was filled with the blood curdling screams of Ensign Edward Sharpe the Fourth.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

New York City , New York

September 6, 1988

9:54 A.M.

Sam had forgotten the last time he had been in New York City and so he had also forgotten the traffic that plagued the great city all day long. In addition, the Leaper didn’t know where the hospital was, making him grateful that Gino had been the one driving to the hospital. It had taken a little under forty-five minutes to get to the medical facility, thanks to Gino’s seemingly remarkable ability to weave his way quickly but safely through traffic. Once at the hospital, it had taken another half an hour for the busy nurses to get to the little girl Sam held carefully.

        The two men sat in the hospital’s waiting area, their conversations focused on the newborn girl’s health when they did speak. They mostly remained quiet in their wait for a diagnosis on the girl’s well-being.

        “She will be fine, boss,” Gino told Sam for the umpteenth time, again noting the concerned look on the latter’s face. “Trust me. I know little ones.”

        Sam smiled slightly at Gino’s words. “As I said before, I won’t relax until I know for sure.”

        Gino nodded slightly. “That is what makes you good at what you do,” he commented. “You’re a good man. You take care of those you love, even complete strangers.”

        Even as Gino spoke, the Imaging Chamber door opened and Al stepped through the door. Hearing the last sentence, Al smiled slightly. “Looks like you and Jeff have a lot in common, Sam.”

        Sam looked up at his friend. After so many years together, it wasn’t necessary for him to actually speak in order for Al to know what he was wanting.

        “I went to talk to the Visitor,” Al explained, pushing buttons on the handlink. “We had a nice long talk about what he expects out of his life. What I learned is that he loves his job but he still feels unfulfilled in his life. That’s probably why he spent the rest of his life alone. He had thought several times of getting married but he just didn’t find any woman whom he felt a connection with and so…”

        “What about the baby?” Sam asked in a whisper, hoping that Gino couldn’t hear the question.

        “What name did you call her on the way here?” Gino questioned.

        “Thelma,” Sam replied.

        Al nodded. “Well, the name stuck, Sam. The hospital staff gave her the name Thelma Johnson. She is put in various foster homes until she turns sixteen and then she winds up on the streets. Picks up a criminal record too. Minor offenses but they are still on the books.”

        Gino turned towards Sam, a serious look on his face. “You named the bambina after someone special to you. That means you really care what happens to her, even though she isn’t your own child.” He seemed to think for a moment before continuing. “Perhaps you were meant to find the bambina to fill a hole. Who knows what kind of life little Thelma will have without a father or a mother?”

        “Um… Sam,” Al started, looking at the handlink. “Gino… Gino here is right. Apparently, you haven’t leaped because you need to get the ball rolling to insuring that Jeff adopts Thelma. Ziggy says that, if Jeff adopts her, not only will he be happy but also the accident that took his life won’t happen. Also, Thelma won’t wind up on the streets of New York . When I talked to Jeff, he told me that he always wanted children. I’m sure he’ll be a great dad for Thelma.”

        “The Lord has given you a chance to give that girl a home,” Gino told him plainly. “Every child deserves a home. My bambini are the best things that ever happened to me. I praise the Lord every day for having a guardian angel in human form near them, especially near my bambino, to guard them against hardships.” He seemed to pause thoughtfully. “Of course, sometimes… sometimes the Lord imposes hardships on us to prepare us for the worst to come, to strengthen our souls for events to come that we cannot avoid.” He seemed to look directly at Al as he spoke these last words, his eyes filled with great sadness.

        Both Sam and Al frowned at the Italian construction worker, confused by the man’s words. Al especially felt haunted by the man’s words and gaze, swallowing as he tried to comprehend what his words could mean. He was again reminded of his father, causing him to shake his head slightly against the thought. Maybe this guy is a distant relative or something. He raised the handlink to ask Ziggy for a correlation.

        Gino shrugged slightly as if he hadn’t said anything odd. He stood up and encouraged Sam to do the same. “Go to the nurse and tell her you want to adopt Thelma. No time like the present.”

        Sam hesitated, looking at Al for verification. Al barely raised his eyes from the handlink when he felt Sam’s gaze on him.

        “Go on,” Al encouraged. “It’s what you’re here to do, right?” He returned his gaze to the handlink as Sam went up to the nurse on duty. Sam heard Al saying something but his words weren’t clear to him. Since the words were not directed at him, Sam ignored them for the time being.

        A few minutes later, Sam returned to the waiting area with a gentle smile on his face. “She said she would make sure Child Services knows of my intentions.”

        “Excellent!” Gino exclaimed. “And the bambina is doing well?”

        Sam nodded, scratching the side of his head. “Yeah. The nurse said that she’s sleeping in the pediatric ward.” He raised a card that was in his free hand. “She gave me the name of the doctor in charge of her case.”

        “Then we should go,” Gino suggested. “I am sure that all will go well for little Thelma and for you as well.” He smiled gently as he started for the door.

        Al raised his head from the handlink, his eyes wide. “Um… Sam… Ziggy’s done some digging and there is no one named Gino working for Jeff Thornton.”

        Sam frowned strongly, turning towards Al. “What?!” he whispered in astonishment. “Maybe that’s just a nickname…”

        Al shook his head at Sam’s suggestion. “I checked for that. I even had Jules go into the Waiting Room and ask Jeff personally. No one with the name Gino worked for him.”

        “If that’s true, then…” Sam started as Gino reentered the hospital and gestured towards him.

        “Boss, are you coming? Or are you going to talk to invisible friends all day?” the Italian man laughed gently as he went back outside.

Sam and Al stared at the door before looking at each other, too stunned for words as Sam vanished in a flash of brilliant blue light.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Project Alexander Holding Chamber

Somewhere in the British Isles

Sometime in the Year 2020

The room spun madly like a rollercoaster ride gone awry. Small crimson droplets ran down either side of his face in a slow crawl, his eyes locking onto the cool white tile floor that was now spotted. Dark lines of crimson graced his torso and legs, streaking his nude body savagely. His entire body felt numb, like it was asleep. In fact, he was rather unaware of just exactly how much pain he was in. Fastened to both ankles were steel clamps, which in turn connected to a sturdy cable that hung from the ceiling, slightly to the left of the examination table. Stretched, contorted figures stood before him. One was studying him like some lab experiment, his nose nearly brushing up against Ed’s. The figure moved back a step when Ed’s mouth cracked open. His purple lips were moving, as if he were speaking, although no words were coming out. Then, somewhere from the foggy recesses of his mind, he saw the face of a beautiful young brunette…

“Ch-Christa,” he stammered as he held her hand. The more nervous he got, the firmer his grip was on her hand. “There’s something that I have t-to tell you. I’ve wanted to tell this to you for a long time, really. I mean, I knew it from the moment I saw you but I wanted to make sure that the timing was right.”

“What is it that you’re trying to tell me?” Christa asked as she took a step closer to him, her eyes gleaming as she smiled.

“Okay,” he said as he shrugged his shoulders, “I want to tell you that I…um, I think I love you.”

Christa raised an eyebrow and asked, “You think you love me?”

He quickly shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant. What I meant to say was that…” He stopped as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he exhaled, he said, “What I meant to say was that I love you. I’ve loved you since the day I first saw you. Look,” he said as he held up a hand, “I know that we’re going to be graduating here in about a month, and that you’re going to be going to college and I’m going into the Navy, but I wanted to tell you that…just in case, you know?”

“In case what?”

“You know----in case we don’t see each other after for a while.”

Christa smirked as she closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You know something, Edward Sharpe the Fourth?”

He nervously giggled. “What’s that?”

“I love you, too.” She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“Edward.”

The strong, commanding voice had pierced through the memory, shattering it into oblivion. His glassy, glazed eyes fluttered open and locked onto the figure that stood before him.

        “I’m giving you another chance,” Xavier said, “to tell us what we need to know. You do that and all this will be over.”

        “O-o-over?” Ed’s voice cracked.

        Xavier nodded. “Yes, it will. Lothos is very adamant about acquiring this information and far be it for me to disappoint him. Now,” he said as he walked around the Detainee, “please tell us what you can remember about Doctor Samuel Beckett and Project Quantum Leap.”

        Mentally, Ed screamed at Xavier, Go to Hell, you psychotic old man! Instead, he only managed a muffled garble.

        “Speak louder, please,” Xavier said. “I can’t understand mumbles.”

You better kill me then, asshole! I’m not telling you anything! Again, his lips parted but this time he managed to speak. “N-no.”

        Xavier shook his head. “Honestly, Edward, I took you for an intelligent young man, but I guess I was wrong. Have you not already learned that neither you nor Beckett nor Calavicci can possibly win? All you are doing is delaying the inevitable.”

        You all will pay for murdering my daughter! Even if it takes the rest of my life, I will make sure that this whole damned place, and everybody in it, burns to the fucking ground! And I’ll be there to watch it with a smile on my face! Ed’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. Xavier reached out and jostled him; the hinges creaked as the cable swung the near unconscious Ensign back and forth.

        “Stay with me,” Xavier said calmly. “I can’t afford for you to be fading on me now.”

        “If I may say so, sir,” Xavier’s assistant said as he watched the cable swing back into place, “perhaps we’ve gotten all we could out of him. He may be weak physically, but his will is strong.”

        Xavier glanced over his shoulder and said, “And just like the human body, it can be broken. I’m not quite finished with him yet; if he refuses to talk, fine, but I’ll make damn sure that he never forgets his visit.” Xavier then went over to his cart and got down on one knee. When he stood back up, he held in his hand a whip, neatly coiled. The tip was weighted and neatly sliced at the air as he cracked the whip. Satisfied, he calmly walked over and around Ed; standing so that Ed’s back was facing him.

        I swear, one way or another, I will kill you. Ed could see Xavier from out of the corner of his eye, and saw that his arm was pulled back. His eyes then flashed open as the tip of the whip came into contact with his back; the tip cut deep into his flesh. Xavier dragged the tip down his back about an inch before pulling the whip back. Ed’s scream of agony only came out as a bloodied garble. The pain and the fear were further pulling him into the void, and it was only there that he saw the beautiful young brunette.

“I promise you, sweetheart, that as long as we’re together, I’ll always be there to protect you. I love you, Christa Calavicci.” He kissed her on the cheek and embraced her tightly. “I swear it.”

The weighted tip slammed into his back once again, the strike was strong enough to shove Ed’s prone body forward, the cable rocking and creaking in the process. He squeezed his eyes shut as the tip, buried in his flesh, was pulled back. Blood ran down his back, splashing onto the ground, creating a small pool under him. Sweat, intermingled with blood, stung his eyes as he squeezed them shut. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then again, another strike from the whip, but this time it was along his spine.

“Eddie? I got something to tell you.”

“What is it?” He knew that whatever Christa wanted to tell him was important. In fact, he could tell by just the way she was standing there, smiling at him, almost giggling really. She couldn’t even stand still.

“You know how I’ve been feeling sick these past few weeks? Well, there’s a good reason for that.”

“Okay, don’t keep me hanging in suspense, tell me.” Even though he was pretty sure what it was that she wanted to tell him, he didn’t want to jump the gun, either. He wanted her to be able to deliver the good news.

“I’m pregnant!” Christa squealed as she ran into his arms. “I’m pregnant, Eddie.”

He closed his eyes as he held his wife, leaning back and kissing her on the forehead. “Now we truly can be a family.”

When he opened his eyes, he was presented with a small crimson pool just beneath him. The room rocked back and forth, appearing to him nothing more as stretched images. He could hear the whip crack and, as his body swung backwards, connected with its tip. Searing, white hot pain flowed through his veins as he was pushed further and further into the Darkness. Christa… I’m so sorry. I’m truly sorry. I failed you.

PART FOUR

Project Quantum Leap

June 11, 2008

1:03 P.M.

After Al had left the Imaging Chamber, literally seconds after Sam had leaped, he found himself haunted by the face of the mysterious Italian construction worker named Gino. The more he thought about the mystery man, the more he found similarities between him and his father. There were, of course, the obvious physical similarities he had noticed before. Now that the leap was over, though, Al was finding even more eerie similarities. Like the fact that the Gino Sam met smoked Pall Malls and kept them in his breast pocket. There also was this Gino’s seeming affection for the word bambino, meaning “little one”, and all its appropriate genders and pluralizations. And there was the obvious deep faith the man had. All of these things, but especially the man’s appearance, reminded Al so much of his belated father. But Dad died in 1944, Al told himself. He couldn’t possibly be him.

          What bothered Al most was the one statement that Gino had said, almost as if he were addressing Al: “Of course, sometimes… sometimes the Lord imposes hardships on us to prepare us for the worst to come, to strengthen our souls for events to come that we cannot avoid.” What exactly did the whole thing mean? It was almost as if Gino had been giving them a warning of some kind. And what did he mean about Sam talking to “invisible friends”?

        Al pushed the confusion away, deciding that the issue could be reviewed at another time when his head was clearer. He looked at his watch and then made a quick call to Julianna, telling her that he would meet her in her office.

          “The results from the diagnostic that Chief Fulton and I ran on the security system upgrade came back,” Julianna told Al as the two left her office and then rounded a corner. She was reading information off of a clipboard as the pair made their way down one of the corridors that would lead them to the elevator. They were on their way up to the cafeteria for a late lunch to discuss the recently upgraded security system. “Everything’s fully functional. With the upgrades that are now installed, we stand a much better chance of detecting any intruders.”

        “That’s good news,” Al commented. “We can’t afford to have any more, ah, ‘instances’. I’d hate to think what would happen to all of us if Lothos were to gain the upper hand again.”

        Julianna nodded. “I’m glad that Verbena was able to offer the help that both Ed and Christa needed. Nobody deserved what happened back at the hospital; thank God that Sam had shown up. I can’t even begin to think what happened the first time around.”

        “So far things have been quiet around here,” Al said. “Doctor Bremmer has yet to figure out exactly just what the hell that stuff was that Leaper had pumped into Christa. He says that he’s never seen anything like it before, neither has Aurora .”

        “What I don’t understand,” Jules told him, “is how this Leaper came into contact with the toxin. Somebody had to have supplied him with it, but who? Maybe he somehow brought it back with him.”

Al shook his head. “I don’t think so, Jules. Something’s telling me that whoever created the toxin is not this Leaper but someone else. From what little I remember about Sam’s Leap to the University, this Leaper is just one of Lothos’ puppets. He may have pumped that crap into Christa, but he didn’t make it. I’ll tell you one thing, though. When I catch the son of a bitch that did this, and I will, there will be Hell to pay. I’m going to throw them into the deepest, darkest hole with not even a snowball’s chance in hell of getting out.”

Just ahead of him, Vaughn saw both the Admiral and the Captain walking by; the corridor that he was in connected with the one where they were at. With a smirk, he strode down the corridor. Enough time had been wasted; it was time for him to make his move. He had been fortunate enough that Lothos had sent him back after his screw up at the hospital. Rarely, did Lothos ever give second chances, but for some reason, unbeknownst to him, Lothos was willing to grant him just that. Hell, he didn’t even receive much of a punishment when he had failed to kill Beckett, but that’s not saying that Lothos wasn’t displeased. Lothos did warn him that if he failed him a second time then he would be punished. This time, however, the target wasn’t Beckett but Calavicci. With Beckett out there somewhere in the timestream, Lothos had decided that it was best to strike at Calavicci first.

When he reached the end of the corridor, he turned right. There, standing at the other end was his target. Quickly looking over his shoulder to make sure that nobody else was present, he started towards the Admiral. Just a few feet from where the Admiral was, his Observer, Gillis Woods, blinked into view.

        “I did a perimeter check,” Gillis said, “and the coast is clear. If you’re going to make your move, then now’s the time.”

        Vaughn nodded. “Calavicci won’t know what hit him,” he murmured in agreement.

        “Have you gotten in touch with your contact?” Gillis walked beside Vaughn.

        “Yeah, I did. He tells me that the Admiral is out for blood for what happened to his precious little girl. I have to admit,” Vaughn added with a smile, “that this assignment has been a bit more, ah, ‘enjoyable’, if I may say so.”

        Gillis held up his handlink and pushed a few of its glowing blue buttons. “Lothos says that your odds on killing Calavicci and the Captain are ninety-seven percent, given that you act now. The only other person that’s even near by is Christa Sharpe, which is why your odds are only ninety-seven; she’s really not much of a threat.”

        “As much as that bitch has gotten on my nerves,” Vaughn commented, “I have to say that it hasn’t been all bad. She sure as hell made the downtime more bearable.”

        Gillis glanced up at the ceiling and then said, “I’d be careful what I say around here, Vaughn. That damned computer of theirs has ears all over this place. If she hears you talking like this, she could alert the Admiral.” He pushed a button on the handlink. “Lothos gives that a ninety nine percent chance. What ever you do, Vaughn, don’t screw this one up. Last time, you had Beckett right where Lothos wanted him, and you failed. This time, Calavicci is practically a sitting duck.”

        Vaughn sighed. “Don’t worry, Gillis. I got this one covered.”

        Gillis stood there as he watched Vaughn head towards the Admiral and the Captain, a single brow raised. “You sure as hell better.” He glanced down at the handlink and pressed a button, and less than a moment later his image vanished.

        Al and Julianna were about a few feet from the elevator when Julianna caught a movement out from the corner of her eye. She turned her head and saw Ed walking up to them. She frowned when he failed to stop; he was walking beside them, looking straight ahead.

        “Ah, excuse me, Ensign,” Julianna said, “but what do you think you’re doing?”

        Al glanced over and furrowed his brow. “Ed, I know that you’re still under a lot of stress and all, but I hope you haven’t forgotten about protocol.” When Ed failed to acknowledge either one, Al stopped, turned, and faced Ed. “Ensign?”

        Julianna stood there, watching Ed with a curious eye. Something wasn’t right and, after a quick glance at her father, she knew that she wasn’t the only one who thought that. “Eddie?”

        Ed looked over his shoulder and then past Al and Julianna. Then, with a curl of his upper lip, he quickly grabbed a handful of Julianna’s hair at her scalp before slamming her head into the nearest wall two times. The seasoned SEAL didn’t have time to react as her head swam. Her hands went up to try to release the man’s grip on her but Jules found it difficult to move as nausea started to set in from the concussion she knew she undoubtedly had.

        Al took a hurried step, attempting to defend his daughter, but stopped when he saw the man draw a gun and aim it at him.

        “Who are you?” Al asked as he held his gaze on the man who appeared to be Edward Sharpe the Fourth.

        With a vicious smirk, Vaughn answered him. “Let’s see Beckett save your ass now.”

        Al’s eyes lowered with growing hatred. “You’re the one that killed Christa and Ed’s baby. Where is Ed?” Al asked with a slow burn scowl.

        Vaughn shifted his body. “One second.” With quick, fluid reflexes, he jerked Julianna’s head around, bringing her face up close to his while keeping an eye on Al. “I owe you one,” he sneered to the SEAL as he then slammed her head into the wall one final time. Vaughn released his hold on her hair, allowing Julianna to slump to the floor, unconscious. He then spun around and now had the Beretta pointed straight at Al’s heart. “Okay, now getting back to you,” Vaughn said as if nothing had just happened.

        Al swallowed, glancing at his unconscious daughter before focusing solely on the man in front of him. “Where is Ed?” he asked again.

        Vaughn shrugged. “Don’t worry about your precious little ensign. Lothos is making sure that he’s well taken care of.”

        “What else do you want from me? You’ve already ruined the lives of my daughter and her husband and you succeeded in killing my granddaughter. What the hell else is there, pal?”

        Vaughn chuckled. “First of all, I’m not your pal. Second, I’m here on business. You and Beckett have done more than sabotage Lothos’ plans. I guess you could say that I’ve been…given a second chance.”

        Al took a step forward, keeping eye on the weapon. “What’s going to be different from last time you tried? You couldn’t do it then, what makes me think you can do it now?”

        Gillis’ holographic image came into view, standing next to the Admiral. He glanced at Al and then at the crumpled form of Julianna. “Looks like you learned from your mistake,” he commented as he pushed a few buttons on his handlink. “Lothos says the odds have gone up two percent now that Captain Blaize is out of the way. Now all that’s left is Calavicci.”

        “Admiral,” Vaughn began to say when he thought for a moment and then asked, “Do you mind if I call you Al?” When the Admiral only glared at him, Vaughn said, “Do me a quick favor and tell Ziggy to deactivate the alarm. No doubt that bitch of a computer has already alerted Fulton .”

        Not taking his eyes off of Vaughn, Al said, “Ziggy, deactivate the alarm immediately. Tell Fulton to stay back; I got this one handled.”

        “As you wish, Admiral,” Ziggy replied with a sigh.

        “Good,” Vaughn said. “Now we can finally get down to business. Kneel,” he ordered, gesturing towards the floor below Al with his free hand.

        Al raised an eyebrow at the order. “What?”

        Vaughn gave him a slight smile. “Kneel,” he repeated. “Lothos isn’t happy anymore with just having you killed, Al. You have really ticked him off and he wants an apology.”

        Al huffed a sick laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

        “Lothos wants to see you humiliated before you die,” Vaughn told him firmly. “And what Lothos wants, Lothos gets.”
        Al lowered his eyelids and raised his head slightly, straightening up dramatically in defiance. “Like hell he does,” he growled dangerously. “If you’re going to kill me, then get it over with. There is no way in hell I’m going to apologize that megalomaniacal bastard!”

        Vaughn tisked slightly at Al’s words and then said with confidence, “I think you will do exactly what he wants you to do.” He shifted his aim from Al’s chest to the chest of his eldest daughter, who lay just to Vaughn’s right. “There is one thing that I have learned well enough and that is a father will do anything to save his children. I will count to five, Al, and then I will pull the trigger.” He paused, looking into Al’s eyes, pleased with the growing terror there. “One… Two…”

        “No!” Al exclaimed, interrupting the count quickly as he reached out a desperate hand. “I’ll do it, damn you!” He swallowed at the smile on Vaughn’s face before repeating. “I’ll do it,” he repeated before slowly going to one knee.

        “Both knees,” Vaughn instructed. “Make sure you say it nice and loud so Lothos can hear every word.” Seeing the slight confusion on Al’s face, he clarified. “Lothos sees and hears everything. Time and space are not obstacles.”

        Al obeyed, bring his other leg down so that both knees were on the floor. He took a deep breath, his eyes focused on the gun aimed at Julianna. “I apologize.”

        Vaughn rolled his eyes. “Ah, come on, Al! You can do better than that! Look in my eyes and be contrite with your words. You’re Catholic, aren’t you? You know how Confession works. You say what you did wrong and then ask for forgiveness.”

        Al glared at him. How dare he compare this atrocity with the Sacrament of Reconciliation! Still, Al knew that Vaughn was right; he would do anything to save Julianna’s life, even beg for forgiveness from the Evil that had done nothing but harm him and his family.

        Al forced himself to put on the appropriate look and took a deep breath, looking into Vaughn’s eyes. His fists clenched tightly as he spoke. “I apologize for interfering with Lothos’ plans. Forgive me.” Seeing Vaughn shake his head slightly, Al felt panic welling up in his chest. God, he’s going to shoot her! “I’m sorry! Forgive me!” he practically shouted, his tone pleading for his daughter’s life. “Please,” he said in a near whisper.

        Vaughn smiled at the expression on Al’s face. “Much better,” he told him, shifting his aim back on Al. “Unfortunately for you, your apology is not accepted.”

        Having hid in one of the corridors, Christa had seen the entire situation unfold. She had been on her way to the cafeteria to have lunch with her husband when she saw who she thought was Ed following her father and sister. She was shocked to see her own husband turn on her father and viciously attack her sister. Now, this man wanted to kill her father after humiliating him. To top things off, she heard all too clearly that this man had been the one who had poisoned her and murdered her child. She had to do something but fear had held her back, preventing her from protecting her family, although the streak of revenge she felt surged through her like an electrical current. She then crouched down, lifting up her pant leg, revealing the ankle holster and its possession. Carefully, she withdrew the object. For a moment she simply stared at the silver Derringer, the gun that Ed had given her back when they were at the shooting range. Taking a deep breath and holding it, she quietly stepped out from her hiding spot.

        “You know,” said Vaughn, smirking at the kneeling Al, “ever since that day in the hospital, I wanted nothing more than to be the one who puts a bullet in your head.”

        “I’ll tell you something,” Al spat as he stood up slowly. “Ever since that day at the hospital, when I learned that it was you who killed my granddaughter, I wanted nothing more than to pay back the favor.”

        Vaughn shook his head as his curled index finger tensed on the trigger. “This can go on forever, and ironically, time isn’t something that I have a whole lot of.”

        Gillis’ eyes lit up. “This is perfect, Vaughn, absolutely perfect. You got him right where you want him. Finish him off.”

        “Enough talk.” Vaughn’s eyes narrowed as he took aim.

        Just past Vaughn, Al caught sight of Christa sneaking up behind the Leaper, Derringer at the ready. Gillis caught Al’s expression and followed his gaze.

        “Damn it!” Gillis shouted. “Look behind you!”

        Vaughn stole a quick glance over his shoulder and saw Christa standing just a couple feet behind him, weapon aimed. “Again with this crap,” he said with a frustrated sigh. “Don’t you people ever learn?” He turned his body in such a way that if either Al or Christa made another move, Vaughn would get a clear shot. “What do you think you’re doing there, honey?” he asked Christa with a chuckle.

        “Why did you kill my baby?” Christa asked as she kept the gun aimed at Vaughn; her arm shook slightly as her eyes heavily watered.

        “It’s all part of the job,” Vaughn said.

        The more she stared at the man, who looked exactly like Eddie, the more difficult it was for her to pull the trigger.

        “Come on now,” Vaughn said to Christa, “put the gun down.” He took a side step towards her, smiling at her in a way that Ed would often. “Please, sweetheart, listen to me.”

        Al’s eyes moved between Vaughn and Christa, watching the interaction. When Vaughn started to try to convince Christa to put her gun down, he knew that this was probably his only chance to end this in their favor.

        “He isn’t Eddie, Christa. Shoot him,” Al ordered plainly, his eyes meeting Christa’s. “Shoot him!”

        “Shut up!” Vaughn yelled at Al, shaking the Beretta in his hand threateningly. He turned his head slightly to look at Christa, his gun still firmly aimed at Al. “Honey, trust me. Put the gun down.”

        Christa was torn; she knew that the man who stood before her wasn’t Eddie, but some stranger who wanted to kill her father. Then again, she found it rather difficult to act when the face of her husband, smiling at her, was all that she saw.

        “That’s it,” Vaughn said gently, “that’s a good girl. Just lower the gun and everything will be all right.”

        Gillis was reading data off of his handlink. “So far, so good, Vaughn, you’re getting to her. All you have to do is get the gun away from her. Lothos says you do that then the odds of accomplishing your goal will go up to a hundred.”

        As Vaughn got Christa to lower the gun, Al made his move, but unfortunately he only managed a step before Vaughn, while looking at Christa, pointed the gun at Al. “I got my eye on you, Al,” he sneered.

        It was at that moment that Christa noticed the madness in his eye. She then also remembered how she blamed Eddie for what this man had done, and here he was again. First, he had murdered her daughter, had taken Eddie away from her, and now he was trying to murder her father. She brought her arm back up and, while keeping her eye on her father, she said to Vaughn, “And I got my eye on you, asshole.” Just as Vaughn turned his head, Christa squeezed the trigger.

        As the Leaper crumpled to the ground, next to Julianna, Al ran over to his daughter as she dropped the gun, staring in horror at the fallen Vaughn.

        “No!” Gillis shouted. He went over to Vaughn and knelt beside him. Blood had stained his shirt and trickled down his chest from the gunshot wound that just above his right breast. “Lothos! He’s dying, Leap him out! Leap him out!”

        As Vaughn lay there, bleeding and near death, his entire person was covered in an aura of red light. The electrical temporal energy ran down his body, disappearing in a radiant flash of red. Less than a second later, an unconscious and wounded Edward Sharpe the Fourth took Vaughn’s place. Ed’s eyes cracked open, and for a moment had no idea where he was.

        “Ch-Christa?” Ed could make out two blurred shapes; one in particular was coming straight towards him.

        “Eddie? Is that you?” Christa knelt beside the man whom she hoped was her husband. Just before she was about to call back to her father, she noticed something that horrified her to no end. His back, arms, and legs were suddenly covered with deep bloody cuts and dark bruises; they appeared out of thin air, it seemed. Blood ran down from his wounds and onto the floor. What was worse, though, was the bleeding hole in his chest, the same spot where she was certain she had shot the Leaper. “Daddy!”

        By that time, Al had already been standing behind her. He had seen exactly what Christa had seen, but for Al that was telling that Ed had indeed returned to them.

        “Daddy,” Christa sobbed as she covered her mouth with her hands, “I killed him! I killed my husband!”

        “Ziggy! Get Doctor Lofton down her ASAP!” Al carefully kneeled beside Christa and gave her a quick hug before pressing his palm against the gunshot wound to try to squelch the bleeding.

        “I’ve already alerted Doctor Lofton,” Ziggy informed him. “She should be arriving within the next two minutes.”

        “Ensign Sharpe may not have two minutes!” Al yelled. “I want an EMT down here now!”

        It was at that moment that Julianna stirred. Moaning, she brought a hand over to the side of her head that had been injured. She gingerly touched it, then immediately winced in pain. After a moment she looked over and saw Ed, bloodied and battered, crumpled on the floor next to her. “Ed?” she breathed in disbelief. She then looked up and saw her father verbally comforting her sister, his hands pressed against Ed’s chest; lying on the floor just behind them was Christa’s Derringer. Julianna scooted closer to Al and Christa.

        “What the hell happened?” she asked Al, whose attention was solely focused on Ed’s still form.

        Al didn’t seem to hear her words. “Come on, Ed,” he murmured desperately. “Don’t give up on us!” Raising his head, he finally noticed that Julianna was conscious. “Are you okay? You’re bleeding!”

        Julianna quickly checked for the injury that Al had mentioned, discovering some blood just under her nose and on her lip. There was also a cut just at her hairline. “It’s nothing.” Seeing Christa sobbing beside their father, Jules quickly went to her and pulled her into her arms. “He’s going to be okay,” she assured. She didn’t know yet exactly what had happened but Jules had already figured out that they were in a life and death situation with Ed and Christa needed someone to hold her.

        The two minutes that Ziggy predicted to Al felt more like an eternity as Al continued to put pressure on the worst of Ed’s wounds. The sound of running feet filled their ears as Aurora Lofton arrived with an Emergency Medical Team. Not too far behind them was Doctor Roy Bremmer.

        “Get him on the stretcher,” Bremmer said as he pointed at Ed. “Get him to the infirmary.”

        The EMT wasted no time as they moved past Al, Julianna, and Christa. They carefully lifted Ed onto the stretcher. Al turned and watched as they rushed him down the corridor, with Bremmer following.

        “Is everyone else all right?” Aurora asked.

        Al nodded. “I am but Julianna may have a concussion and Christa’s in a state of shock.”

        “What about that blood?” Aurora questioned Jules, who brushed off her attention, assuring her that it was minor. Aurora then turned her attention to Al, who had taken over in comforting Christa. “And you?” she asked with concern, gesturing with her head to Al’s chest.

        Al looked down at himself upon her gesture. “It’s not mine,” he informed her. “I’m fine.”

        “Okay,” Aurora said with a nod, “Doctor Bremmer’s got Ensign Sharpe, so I’ll take them down with me.” She, with the help of Julianna, eased Christa from her father and led her down the hall.

        “It’s going to be all right,” Julianna said to Christa. She quickly glanced back over at Al. I thought the nightmare was already over. Was I ever wrong, she thought to herself.

        Al tipped his head and then looked back over at where Ed had been lying. He stood there, staring at the bloody sight. Once again, Lothos had come after him and failed. Al knew all too well that with failed attempt that Lothos had on both he and Sam, the more that only fueled Lothos’ desire to try and try again. He turned his back on the sight, and walked down the corridor, steeling himself to not look back. As he came up onto the elevator, he stopped, sighed, and leaned against the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut as they heavily watered. When he opened them, a few tears had managed to escape. In more than one way, Lothos had already won. “Where the hell are you, Sam?” he whispered.

EPILOGUE

Al stood by his daughter’s side as she sat next to the bed. She held the hand of her comatose husband as she cried softly. He gently patted her on her shoulder as his gaze fell on the bloodied, bruised, and beaten body of Edward Sharpe IV. In his mind, still rather fresh, was the encounter three days prior that he had with the Leaper whom had Leapt into Eddie. At first he couldn’t make sense of things but when ‘Eddie’ had struck Jules and then pointed a gun at him, it was then that Al had realized his worse fears had become reality.

“Babydoll,” he started to say when Christa looked up at him, wiped at her watery eyes, and then fell into his arms.

        “Daddy,” Christa said in between sobs, “I don’t want to lose him. If I hadn’t had shot him...I...I don’t want him to die.”

        Al smoothed back the hair on Christa’s face. “Shhh. It’s not your fault, Christa. You only did what Ed wanted you do in the situation.” He glanced over at Ed’s prone body, noticing the gunshot wound that had been left behind during the Leap. Al knew that Christa had shot the Leaper, however the wound was transferred to Ed when he’d Leaped back. “You handled yourself rather well,” Al told her. “If it hadn’t been for your intervention then Jules and I may not have survived. You saved us, Babydoll.”

          “I shot Eddie,” Christa said. “I don’t ever want to touch another gun as long as I live.”

        Al consoled his daughter, holding her tightly and whispering to her that everything would be all right.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He found himself standing in the doorway of a rather peculiar establishment. He wasn’t exactly sure just how he had arrived there in the first place, but there he was, dressed in his Naval uniform and standing before several of its patrons. They simply looked up from their drinks and conversations and smiled at him as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. After sweeping his gaze across the strange place, he found that it was a tavern of sorts. The place looked modern but had a rather ‘classic’ feel to it. He likened it to that of one of those retro cafes. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a large glass window that took up the majority of the wall. According to the large yellow lettering on the window, he was at Al’s Place. Outside was a picture perfect day; the sun high in the clear blue sky. Looking down at his hands, he saw that the cuts and bruises were gone. Gone, too, were all the other cuts that graced his face, arms, and legs. He looked, and felt, like a brand new man.

        “H-how did I get here?” Ed Sharpe mused out loud as he took a step inside. When he looked over at the bar, he noticed a rather stout looking bartender wiping some glasses with a white dish rag.

        “Good afternoon, Edward,” the Bartender greeted him as he continued to clean the tall glass. “Please, have a seat.”

        Once again, Ed looked all around him; the patrons continued about their business and drinks. He then glanced back to the large window. “Oh, man,” he mumbled to himself.