Date: Sun, 22 May 94 12:13:05 EDT From: "Tracy E. Finifter" Subject: Meant to Be - Pt. 3 Message-Id: "Meant to Be - August 12, 1953" by Tracy E. Finifter Part 3 The next day passed relatively quietly, with no major disturbances on any front. Sam attended to Trudy, who spent much of the day either coughing or sleeping, while also taking care of Nurse Kerr's regular duties. Michelle took care of the other patients and Dr. Zimmerman made his daily rounds with another staff doctor also making his appearance, but only briefly. Not much was said between any of them. Sam noticed with satisfaction that the penicillin seemed to be helping Trudy, but it was going to be a little while longer before she was out of danger. Al had not shown up all day, and it was starting to make Sam nervous. Had he changed history already and if so, was it for the better or worse? He hated not knowing. He hated not having Al around. After checking Trudy again, he instructed her to take a nap and went back to the small desk where Michelle was already taking a break. He sat down to take a break as well, exhausted from a morning of running around. "So, what's so special about her?" Michelle asked. "Hmm?" "What's so special about Trudy?" Michelle repeated. "What do you mean? She's a patient here, in need of our help, and I'm just trying to help her," Sam stated simply. "No, no. That's not it. I've seen more patients come in and out of here than I can count, so have you, but never have I seen you so hung up on any one patient as you have been with Trudy. What's up?" Sam stretched out on the uncomfortable chair and considered the question. It wasn't something that he had really thought about, but now that he did, the answer was clear. "Well, you see," he started quietly, "I have this friend, a better friend than anybody deserves, I think." Michelle listened intently. "Over the years, he's been there for me, guided me, gave me the breaks I needed, and helped me get back so many things I've lost. I guess I'm just trying to return the favor." Michelle was touched by Sam's feelings for his friend, but was still confused. "That's really sweet," she said, "but tell me, how does helping Trudy Calavicci help your friend?" "It's kind of a long story, I guess." Sam stretched back even more. He was rapidly becoming lost in thought. "I just want to make sure that I take care of her when no one else can, as much as they'd want to. And I hope my friend understands that." "He does, Sam, and he appreciates it," Al spoke quietly from the doorway into the back room, "but you can't change what's meant to be." Sam looked at his friend, unable to vocally acknowledge him. Al just looked back and shook his head, holding up the handlink. Trudy was still going to die. *Impossible!* Sam wanted to scream. He was trying so hard to help her and was succeeding. He didn't want to hear otherwise, especially from the one person who's life would be most affected by his efforts. "I'm gonna lie down for a minute, Michelle," Sam said and went back to join his friend. "I asked you not to do this, Sam," Al said. His tone was hard to distinguish. It could have been hurt, disappointment, or any of a number of emotions directed at Sam, fate, time, or whatever. "I have to do my job, Al. I have to care for the people I meet wherever I am and Trudy is one of those people." "That's not why you're doing this and you know it. It's against the rules, Sam, and it's not going to work. The odds of her surviving the next few weeks have only gone up to 11%." "But they have gone up," Sam pointed out. Al took a pause. "Sam, I'm asking you one last time. *Please*, just let things happen as they should." "I'm just doing what I have to, Al. You know that. Even if she wasn't your sister, even if she was just a total stranger, I'd still be doing the same things. The only difference this time is that it's someone you know. But that doesn't change the situation. If I can't save her life, I'm sorry, but at the very least I can make her more comfortable." Al had no answer to that. Of course, he wanted so much for Sam to succeed, but he also didn't want to be heartbroken again if he failed. He lived through this once, he didn't want to have to live through it again. He lived through too many painful times more than once thanks to Quantum Leap, he just wanted to leave this one in the past. "Are you going to talk to her, at least?" Sam asked after a moment. "What?" "Talk to her?" "Oh, no, Sam. I couldn't, I can't..." "What do you mean you can't? You once told me that you would give anything to talk to your sister again, to tell her you loved her. Well now you can." Instead of immediately rejecting the thought, Al actually considered it, then dismissed it again. "I can't do it, Sam. I just can't." "Go on, Al," Sam prodded gently. "Maybe later, Sam," Al replied as he summoned the Imaging Chamber door. "There might not be much of a later," Sam said quietly, making a slight gesture towards the handlink. Al looked at Sam carefully before stepping into the door. In his heart, he knew Sam was right, but the past was the past, and he wasn't going to have anything to do with it. He knew if he stepped out into the main ward that Trudy would be able to see him, and he just wasn't ready for that. This whole time was a dream and she was a ghost, and the only thing left for Al Calavicci was the present, *his* present, back in a New Mexican desert in 1999. "Maybe later," he said again, and stepped back into his gateway to his reality. Sam closed his eyes and sighed. He had expected that, unfortunately. "Peg!" Michelle called from the main room. "Come in here!" Her voice sounded urgent and Sam rushed out to see what the matter was. He stepped out to see Trudy coughing the worst fit he had seen so far. Sam rushed over to help her, and was startled to feel her hand, it was hot. She was definitely taking a turn for the worse. "Is she going to be okay?" Michelle asked, visibly concerned. "If I have something to say about it, she will be," Sam answered. He eased Trudy gently back down on the pillow and took out his stethoscope. Listening carefully to her chest, he grimaced in frustration. "She still is highly congested, and she still has an infection. I want to increase her dosage of penicillin and I'll stay with her tonight in case she needs anything else." "You know we don't have that much more penicillin," Michelle informed. Actually, Sam didn't know, but he realized that an underprivileged hospital such as this might not have the resources he needed. "Well, I guess I'll have to make do with what we can spare," he said. "Okay, then. You're going to stay with her all night?" Michelle asked in amazement. Sam nodded his reply. "She must really be something special," Michelle commented. "Everyone is," Sam answered, and pulled up a chair to begin his vigil. Michelle gave a final, admiring glance at Sam. "Take care, then, Peg. I guess I'll see you tomorrow." Michelle gathered up her things as the next two nurses came in to start their shifts. _Tomorrow?_ Sam thought. _When was Michelle going to be hit by the car? Was that tonight, or tomorrow?_ His normally photographic memory couldn't remember when Al said Michelle was going to be in the accident. "Uh, Michelle," he called, "could you just get me a glass of water, please?" Better safe than sorry, he figured. Michelle, who had packed up all her things and stood in the doorway, stopped, set her things back down, and obliged. Sam thanked her with his sheepish smile and went back to watching over Trudy. At around two in the morning, while most of the ward was sound asleep, including Trudy, an exhausted Sam went back to the desk and struck up a conversation with one of the nurses on the overnight shift. Meanwhile, on the far side of the room, Trudy woke up again with a mild cough, but too quiet for Sam to hear. "Are you feeling okay there?" asked a gravelly voice from beside Trudy's bed. "I feel pretty sick," Trudy admitted weakly, "but Sam is taking care of me." "Yeah, well, Sam's a good guy. He'll take good care of you," Trudy's new friend agreed. "Who are you?" she asked. "I, uh, I'm your Uncle Jack," Al introduced. "I heard you weren't feeling well, so I thought I'd come by and seewhat I could do." Trudy yawned and Al took advantage of her closed eyes to wipe away a tear that had formed in the corner of his eye. She noticed anyway. "What's the matter? Why are you sad?" she asked, her voice total innocence. "It's nothing, Trudy. It's just, well, I haven't seen you for a long time, and well, I miss you." "I miss you too, Uncle Jack." Just then, she reached to hug him, and he stopped himself from trying to do the same. "I don't think that that's such a good idea in your condition, Trudy," Al cautioned. "I guess you're right," Trudy agreed and laid back down, again coughing slightly. The nurse Sam was talking to noticed Trudy's cough this time. "Sounds like your patient needs you, Nurse," she informed Sam. Sam looked up to see his friend with Trudy and answered without thinking, "I think she's in good hands." The nurse, of course not fully understanding, just answered, "Whatever you say, Peg. I got some work to do." Sam just sat staring at the scene on the far side of the room, inwardly happy that Al had decided to see his sister while he had the chance. He was not anxious to disturb the reunion that was taking place. After a few more minutes, Al noticed Sam watching him. A few minutes after that, he got up from beside Trudy and walked over to Sam. "She's really a special girl," Sam said. "Yeah, she is, isn't she?" Al agreed, and stared back at the far side of the room where his sister had once again fallen asleep. And for the time being, nothing else mattered. Not Ziggy's odds or Sam's string theories. What mattered was that whether Sam succeeded or failed in trying to help Trudy, at least Al had one last chance to say good-bye to the sister he loved. "Thank you, Sam." "For what?" "For being a stubborn son-of-a-bitch." With that, he stepped back into the future. Sam went back to Trudy and remained with her until morning. When Michelle came in the next morning, Sam had fallen asleep in his chair. Michelle gently woke him up. "Peg? Peg, wake up, it's morning." "Huh?" Sam moaned groggily. Michelle pulled up a chair beside him. "How's the patient?" she asked. Sam bent over and took a close look at Trudy, who was still asleep. Placing his hand on her forehead, he said, "Well, her fever seems to have broken, she feels much cooler." "That's a good sign. You must be exhausted. Why don't you go in the back and lie down." "Did you get home all right last night?" Sam asked, changing the subject. "Just fine. Why do you ask?" "Just looking out for another special person," Sam answered, and leaned back in his chair. "Whatever," Michelle said as she dismissed the comment. "I'd better get these reports up to Dr. Zimmerman." _The accident must happen tonight,_ Sam thought, _otherwise I would've leaped already. Just as well, at least I have more time to take care of Trudy._ "And how is your patient doing this morning, Dr. Kerr?" Sam looked up in surprise to see Dr. Zimmerman towering over him. "Much better," Sam answered. The doctor's voice said, "Good," but his expression said, "I told you so." Frankly, though, Sam didn't care. Trudy looked to be getting better, and that was all that was important. By the time late afternoon rolled around and Sam and Michelle started packing up from their shifts, Trudy was visibly better. Al should show up at any time and give him the good news from the future. But Al didn't show up, and this worried Sam. Quitting time came around, and Sam was torn between his caring for Trudy, and trying to make sure that Michelle stayed ten minutes later. "You are going home tonight, Peg," Michelle ordered as the next two nurses started their shifts. "Yeah, yeah, sure," Sam answered, trying to stall Michelle as long as he could. "Listen, Michelle, how about you and me go to dinner tonight? I saw this great looking Mexican restaurant on the corner." "You mean Pablo's? Where we go every Friday?" Sam's only reply was a sheepish smile and a "Yeah, Pablo's." "Sorry, Peg, I can't tonight. I have a date, and I really have to hurry. Next week, okay?" "You can't let her leave yet, Sam!" Al cautioned, appearing once again out of nowhere. "Michelle, wait!" Sam yelled, with an urgency only he and the hologram could feel. "Can you just, uh... help me set up the dosages for Trudy, for the night shift?" Michelle hesitated for a second, and then set down her bag. "Okay, but let's make this quick." It took ten minutes, and Michelle was on her way. "That looks like it, Sam. The odds of Michelle getting hit are down to 15%," Al informed. "What about..." Sam started, but Al cut him off. "That's it, Sam. You did what your were supposed to do. As soon as Michelle gets home, which is about a five minute walk, you should leap." "Al..." Al knew what Sam was trying to get at, and cut him off before he could voice the question. "We don't know yet, Sam. It's going to take a few more days before anything happens one way or the other. But you're not going to be here because you're going to leap any minute now." "I'm sorry Al," Sam said sincerely. He looked back in Trudy's direction. He had wanted to succeed so badly, this was one mission he couldn't fail. What he hated, more than anything, was not knowing for sure what was going to happen. It made him feel helpless. "There are some things you just can't control, Sam, no matter how hard you try. But thanks anyway. I mean that," Sam couldn't find the words to reply. "I guess you're going to be leaping soon. I'll see you later," Al said as he summoned the Imaging Chamber door. "Al, wait! Where are you going?" The older man looked drained of energy. "There isn't anything left for me here, Sam. I'll see you later." He stepped though and closed the door. Sam was confused at Al's behavior, but then again this leap had taken a hard emotional toll on his friend. Sam knew that Ziggy could predict with reasonable accuracy the altered fate of Trudy, Al simply didn't want to know. There were a lot of things Sam didn't understand about his friend, but they didn't become any clearer as he leaped. * * * Keep Leaping... * Tracy E. Finifter + finifter@gandalf.rutgers.edu + New Brunswick, N.J. * * * * "I've got a strong urge to fly, but I got nowhere to fly to." * * -- Pink Floyd, "Nobody Home" *