From: "M. Cogburn" Date: Sat, 5 Dec 1998 13:50:45 -0600 Subject: Portraits Of The Past, Part 12 Chapter Twelve Sammy Jo looked down from her position in the observation booth above the waiting room floor watching Dr. Beckett's body as it lay on the metallic bed in the middle of the room. He was sleeping. Ziggy was monitoring his sleeping patterns on the monitor that Sammy Jo had been watching for the past twenty minutes. >From where she was standing, she could tell just by the bleeps emitting from the monitor that he was in REM sleep. He now was definitely dreaming. Dreaming of what, she could not imagine, but definitely wanted to know. Would Dr. Beckett's body dream of the conscious that belonged to Dr. Beckett or to that of Jason's? Whatever the case, the dream state was the one state that she wanted to conquer. He slowly began to move. The movements were slow, rhythmic and methodical. Very soon though, they began to become more erratic and the bleeps on the computer terminal began to go wild. Sammy Jo glanced at the monitor and grimaced. Another nightmare. A day ago, Jason began having terrible nightmares that woke him. He'd stay awake for the next couple of hours then and only then would he be able to go back to sleep. When asked about his nightmares, Jason would just look at Sammy Jo and Verbeena and shake his head without a word. Now, he was continually having them. Sammy Jo went down the long flight of stairs to the metallic bed. She looked down on her patient with a worried frown. Although the room was kept at an even temperature of seventy-three degrees, Dr. Beckett's body was covered in perspiration. She slowly reached up and moved the wet strands of hair from his face. He moaned lowly and she removed her hand not wanting to wake him. He was having these dreams for a reason. Whatever the reason, his conscious needed to deal with it. "No. Please, no. Don't." His words were spoken in urgent pleading tones. Sammy Jo watched in agony. She wanted to wake him but knew she couldn't. Although she hadn't really been introduced formally to Dr. Beckett, she had come to care for him. To see his body in pain, caused her heart to ache. As the nightmare state continued, he began to thrash out as it worsened. Ziggy who monitored his actions pressed the appropriate buttons to elevate the sides of the metallic bed so he wouldn't thrash himself out. Suddenly, the thrashing stopped. He lay still for a moment. Sammy Jo watched in anguish as his chin began to quiver. Tears slowly began to fall from his eyes. As his tears continued, he slowly woke. He sat up slowly, hugged his legs to his chest and laid his head on his knees. He said one word and Sammy Jo heard it only to sigh in response. "Margaret." * * * Sam tried to explain his actions to Margaret but she wouldn't let him. She would make herself busy and he couldn't make her sit and listen. So, he had gotten in his car and gone home so she could prepare for her date. When he pulled up in the drive way, Jason's younger sister looked surprised to see him. "What are you doin' home?" She asked as he got out of his car. "I can come home, can't I?" "Hey, it's a free country. So, she kicked you out, did she?" She taunted. "No. She has a date tonight." "And obviously, by the look on your face, it wasn't you." Sam glared at her then passed her to go into the house. Once more, he found Jason's mother back on the couch watching television. "Honey, what are you doing home?" "Margaret and I had a fight and besides, she has a date tonight." Sam flopped down on the couch beside her and sighed. "Do you want to talk about it? I'm a good listener, you know." Sarah said as she laid her hand on his. "Yeah, I know. It's just that . . ." Sam stopped in mid-sentence knowing that he couldn't tell her anything. He shut his eyes for a moment and sighed. "Thanks mom, but I think I need to handle this by myself." "Okay, honey, but you do know where I am if you need me." "Oh yeah, sure." Sam smiled at Jason's mother and lightly kissed her cheek as he stood and went to his bedroom. When he arrived at his room, he found Al hovering just above the bed. He shook his head and lightly grinned. Al turned his head toward Sam as he entered the room. "Well, how did things go? Did you find out why she's mad at you?" "Yes." Sam sighed. "She saw the encounter at lunch as I feared. She was upset about that. But, now, she's upset about something else." "What?" "Well, while we were talking about what was going on, Jason's emotions got the better of me and we kissed." "Sam." Al groaned. "I know, I know. It just happened. Now she wants to know what kind of game I'm playing with her. I tried to explain, but she wouldn't listen." "It looks like you're making things worse." Trying not to listen to Al complain, Sam went over to Jason's computer and turned it on. As he did this, Al's position changed so he could watch Sam more closely. "What are you going to do?" "Write in Jason's journal. Emotionally, I'm turning into Jason. Jason's emotions are so clear -- concise. It's like their my own. He keeps all of his emotions in his journal." Sam said as he flipped on the monitor and flipped through the disks to pick out the right one. Once he pulled out the disk from its resting place; he plugged it into the computer. Once he got to the right screen, he typed in: Thursday, March 28, 1996: I was wrong. I let my emotions get the better of me and I was wrong. I let her down. I would have never let her down. Sam closed his eyes as he suddenly began to type more rapidly. Al watched in awe and in silence as the words that came to the screen were directly from Jason and not from Sam. In my arms she died. I am there watching as she dies in my arms and I can't do anything to stop it. It hurts so bad . . . I want to be there to stop this madness and they won't let me. I'm trapped here and I can't get to her -- to save her. God, please save her. Please let him save her so that I can show her how much I love her and want to be with her. Please. If needed, take my life for hers. Just let me have this chance to let her know how much I care for her and how much I want to be with her. I just want that chance. As soon as Sam stopped typing, Al remarked, "Sam, look at what you typed." Sam sat still with his eyes closed with his hands still on the keys as if he were still about to type. "Sam . . ." Still no response. He began to type again but this time not as fast as before. It was at least even and rhythmic. Help me to ease the pain. Help me to help her in her time of need. Days have come and gone but still one thing remains the same. I'm still here to help. Sam slowly opened his eyes only to be startled by Al. Al's face was before him looking at him quizzically. "Sam, what's wrong with you. You seemed like you were in a trance." "Well, I . . ." Sam read the entry that was on the screen. "Did I write this?" "You typed it in, but I don't know if you thought it up." Al said as he bit his lip. "There has been something that I haven't told you." "What?" Sam asked frowning. If Al hadn't told him something it would be bad. Sometimes worse than bad -- horrible. "Well, since the twenty-sixth, Jason, huh, he has been having these nightmares about something or somebody. He won't tell us anything." "But he has now." Sam responded amazed that his emotions had totally connected with him the moment he began to write into he journal. "He's scared that he won't have the chance to tell her that he loves her, that they won't be able to spend the rest of their lives together. He is so terribly worried about her that his subconscious has taken over the problem. Once this resolved, the nightmares will vanish." He turned to Al and looked at him squarely. "I'm connected with Jason's emotions now. Mine have been pushed to the side, and all I feel now is Jason's emotions for his family, friends and especially Margaret. The emotions for her are the strongest. Just like the emotions I had for Donna before she left me at the alter." Al shut his eyes and clamped his jaw shut and nodded. He hated it when Sam thought of the past that wasn't the true past. Al hated not being able to tell him that he was married to Donna and that she was waiting for him to come back home to her. "Al . . ." Sam began quietly. "I . . . I love her, too." * * * Margaret had just finished putting the finishing touches on dinner when the doorbell rang. She quickly went to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. She still looked decent. Makeup on correctly and her hair lightly curled. As she walked back through the living room, she turned on the radio lightly then stopped in front of the door. She took a deep breath then opened the door. Brian stood before her with a grin. "Hi." "Hi, Brian. Come on in." She stood back for him to enter. He came in grinning from ear to ear as he produced a handful of flowers from behind his back. "These are for you." "Oh, Brian, you shouldn't have." She graciously took the flowers from him and smelled their perfumed fragrance. "Let me put these in a vase." She went to the kitchen to find her mother's vase then said, "Make yourself comfortable. Dinner is just about ready." Brian looked around the living room and noticed all the pictures on the wall so he decided to begin his tour at the memorial. He looked at each picture of her loved ones and smiled. "Who's the woman in the middle?" Once the vase was in hand, she looked at it perplexed. The woman in the middle? "Oh, that's my Aunt Margaret." She said quickly understanding what he was looking at. "I was named after her. Too bad she didn't know it." She remarked offhandedly. "What?" She died in the Vietnam war. She was a photographer." She explained. Brian nodded all though she didn't see him. He continued his tour. He began to look at the portraits she had done, and questioned, "You did these?" "Yes, but those were done quite some time ago." Margaret replied as she put some water in the vase. She placed the flowers in the vase and quickly arranged them. "These are gorgeous. Thank you." "Oh, your welcome." Brian followed her voice and smiled when he found her. "So, what's for dinner?" He asked as he bit his lip making him look gorgeous in her opinion. "It smells wonderful." "I hope it tastes that way myself." Margaret remarked more to herself than to him. "Oh, I'm sure it will. Is there anything I can do to help?" * * * New Mexico 1999: 10:45 p.m. Al awkwardly approached the sleeping figure on the metallic bed. He glanced up at the observatory booth and Sammy Jo nodded to him signaling he was in REM sleep. He wasn't sure what Verbeena Beeks wanted him to do. She told him to get Jason to talk about his dreams but he wasn't sure how to go about it. The expression on his face was of extreme confusion. He couldn't understand why Jason would keep having the nightmares or how they would help to solve the problem that could occur in Margaret's life. Ziggy gave a ninety-one percent chance that the nightmares and the problem were connected. Until they learned how Margaret dies, they couldn't set a specific date. Whenever Al saw Sam last, he decided not to tell Sam about the many predictions that Ziggy kept coming up with of Margaret's life. About every two hours, Ziggy would tell a new date, time, and reason of Margaret's death. So far, he gave over fifty different death situations over the past few days. This leap was getting stranger and stranger. Jason's nightmares and Sam's inconsistency with women seemed to be unexplainable. Jason's emotions transferring to Sam, however, could be explained -- mind merging. It had happened before. Now looking down on his best friend, all Al could think about was trying to get his friend back. Jason presently sat up with a yell startling Al backward a couple of feet. Jason sat panting trying to catch his breath, then quickly he jumped off the bed and began walking around the room. His adrenaline was soaring and his heart racing. With every turn that he made around the bed, his body began to shake. Suddenly, he collapsed to the floor. "Jason?" Still startled from the yell Jason had roared, Al recovered quickly when Jason fell to the floor. He quickly went to Jason as well as Sammy Jo. Jason was quivering. Half of it was from the adrenaline and the other half was from crying. "Call Verbeena." Al remarked. Sammy Jo left to do what he requested. "Jason, what is it? What are you dreaming about that makes you get this way? I know that it's about Margaret." Jason's head shot up at the mention of Margaret's name. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it as he began to rock himself back and forth. "Come on Jason. Talk to me buddy." "He's in shock, Admiral." Ziggy said monitoring the situation. "Margaret." Jason said as he kept rocking back and forth. "No." Al sat down on the floor beside him and watched concerned. He ran his hand over his face worriedly. Having Jason go into shock changed the impact of the leap. If Jason doesn't recover to some extent, Sam couldn't leap. Jason looked at Al and suddenly said something that made Al's neck hair stand on end. "So much blood." Jason's chin began to quiver. "So much blood and so little time." Al's eyes widened. "What?" Tears cascaded down Jason's cheeks and he bowed his head slowly. "I got there too late. She . . . she . . . she was just laying there." Jason was breathing heavily fighting the urge to cry but crying anyway. "Blood was everywhere. Oh God." Al sat silent. He wanted Jason to finish but he didn't want to push him. He shook his head slowly just trying to be there for Jason. Jason's hand came up to his face and he touched his temple. "She had a wound near her temple. She was still alive, so I took her to the emergency room, but by the time we got there she . . . she was gone." Jason finally broke down and sobbed. Al closed his eyes as he realized that Ziggy's last prediction of Margaret's death had her dying from a head wound on Sunday. Verbeena finally arrived with Sammy Jo in tow. Once they were there to comfort him, Al stood and went toward the door. "Where are you going, Admiral?" Verbeena asked frowning as she stooped down to Jason. "I need to talk to Sam." "What about . . ." "Talk to Ziggy." Al exited the room and went to the main power grid to get the handlink. He grabbed the handlink from its place and looked once at Gooshie. Knowing Gooshie would understand his actions, he started toward the Imaging Chamber Door. Gooshie programmed the Imaging Chamber and presently Al found himself back in front of Margaret's house. "Am I centered on Sam, Gooshie?" "Hey Al." "Oh good. I'm glad you're here. We need to talk." Sam looked at Al curiously. Al then quickly told Sam what Ziggy had been predicting and what had been happening with Jason. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" Al hemmed and hawed for a moment. "Well . . . we didn't want to worry you." Sam sighed then knocked on the door. Without waiting for a response he opened the door. He stuck his head in. "Hello?" He went ahead and entered the house. He was shocked when he saw Brian coming out of the bathroom without his shirt on. "Jason. What are you doing here?" Brian asked as he grabbed his shirt off one of the chairs that circled the dining table, and stuck his arms into the sleeves but didn't button it up. "My family is kind of having problems and Margaret was kind enough to let me stay over here." "Good, Sam." Al commented as he eyed Brian closely. "This doesn't look good. I have a bad feeling about this." "What are you doing here?" "Remember, I had a date." Brian replied. "Margaret's wonderful. Has she done you, yet?" He asked as he looked at a picture on the wall. "What!?" Sam and Al both asked at the same time as their mouths dropped open at the comment. They glanced at each other then back to Brian their mouths open-ended, shocked. "She did me tonight." He turned to Sam once more. "Has she done you?" "Why you sorry son-of-a . . ." Al replied hotly as he glanced back at Sam wondering what he was going to do. Sam roughly grabbed Brian by the shirt then threw a punch that landed squarely on Brian's jaw. He was about to draw back again as Margaret walked into the hallway from her bedroom. She rushed into the room with her hands and face splotched with paint. "Sa . . . Al . . . Jason!" Brian stumbled backward and leaned against the wall. "Brian are you okay?" "Yeah, I think so." Brian said as he gingerly massaged his jaw. "What's going on?" "What's going on? What's going on? I'll tell you what's going on. Lover boy here just said you two had bingo-bango-bongoed and was just asking Sam if you two had bingoed yet." Al explained quickly with his hands waving in the air. "What!? What's going on?" Margaret repeated as she glanced between the two of them but there was no response. "What's going on Sa . . Jason." "I know it's none of my business what you two were doing but . . ." "You're right. It's none of your business." Brian replied dropping his hand. "But . . . it became my business when he asked if you and I had sex yet." "What?!?" Margaret asked outraged. Brian looked indignant and his mouth dropped open. "I did not." "You did too. He did too." Al said as he stepped closer to Margaret. Now, Sam's mouth dropped open. "Then what else could you be talking about when you say has she done you yet?" Brian smirked as he realized how it sounded. "Look at Margaret. She's splotched with paint. Could I possibly be talking about being painted?" Sam opened his mouth to respond but blinked back a response. "Brian, I'm sorry." Margaret went to him. Brian shook his head and grinned. "It's okay. I see how he took it. You throw a good punch though." Brian looked at Margaret who stood before him with a grin. "I didn't want the night to end like this." She looked down at her hands and used the towel she had over her shoulder to wipe off some of the paint on her hands. She glanced back up at him and half-grinned. "I know." He looked at his watch and nodded to himself. "Curfew is in twenty minutes; just enough time to walk me to my car and for me to drive home." He grinned as he ran his hand through his short brown hair. "Okay." Margaret went to the door and opened it then followed Brian after she glared at Sam and Al. Al whistled a short note. "She's not very happy with us, is she?" "You think?" Sam asked sarcastically as he sat down on the couch. Margaret and Brian walked slowly and silently to his car. Margaret leaned against his car and made sure that her hands didn't touch the car because of the paint on them. "I really enjoyed your company tonight, Brian." "And I yours." He slowly moved closer to her. He had waited so long for this moment. To be close to her, to hold her in his arms and caress her. He had watched her from afar for so long and now, the time was here. "Well, I'm glad. I'll come by tomorrow when your portrait is dry and I'll give it over to your family." "Okay. That's fine." Brian stood within six inches of her and the closeness made them both nervous and excited at the same time. Brian got even closer to her but she quickly brought her hands up before her. "Brian, I don't want to ruin your shirt." She said worrying before the fact. Brian raised his hand and gently wiped some paint off her cheek as he said, "It's an old shirt. Plus, I don't think I'd mind too much if it was new." Although he had wiped off some paint, he didn't remove his hand from her face. He gently caressed her face and moved in to kiss her. He softly kissed the cheek that he didn't caress then leaned back to look into her eyes. She blinked softly and slowly began to smile as he moved in to kiss her sweetly on the lips. She still didn't want to get him dirty so she kept her hands out away from him until the kiss ended. As he pulled away from her and grinned, he said, "Well, I better go." Margaret nodded mutely. "See you tomorrow at lunch?" Margaret smiled. "Yeah, lunch." He quickly gave her one last peck then opened the car door. "Until tomorrow." Margaret smiled at him and watched silently as he closed the door, started the car and drove away. Once she waved her good-bye, she sighed and turned having to go deal with Sam and Al. Once back at the house, she entered with her head held high and faced the two of them together. "Now . . ." "Look, I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me. I thought that . . . that he had . . ." "I know what your saying Sam. I do appreciate it that you defended my honor. I appreciate both of you. But right now, I'm going to go get cleaned up then I'm going to go to bed. I'm not mad -- amazingly enough. So, good night." "Good night." They chimed and watched as she left their presence. Once the coast was clear, Al looked at Sam surprisingly. "He must have given her a douzy." Sam silently glared at him. "Well, at least your back on her good side." Al commented pointedly. "Yeah, well, we'll see what happens tomorrow." Sam said as he nestled himself a spot on the couch.