PROLOGUE

The anesthetizing effect of leaping settled down on him making him feel inebriated.  He waited for the sensation to pass as he relied on his senses to tell him of the place he’d leapt into.  His senses slowly began to come back to him.  He could tell from his body position that he was sitting down, his body leaning slightly forward.  He could feel a soft pressure between his hands as if he were holding onto something.  In addition to the area that surrounded him, he could smell the disinfectant spray that had recently been sprayed into the room.  He could also hear a constant rhythmic beep coming from the opposite side of the room.  At last, his vision cleared.  What he saw alarmed him.

Lying on a hospital bed was a beautiful brunette somewhere in her thirties, he assumed, who looked emaciated and vulnerable.  She was very pale except for dark bruises under her eyes.  Sam stood quickly and scanned the equipment reading all the data from the monitors that surrounded the head of the bed.

The steady beep that Sam heard came from a cardiograph monitor that sat on a table on the other side of the bed.  Its steady rhythmic beep alleviated Sam’s distress over the patient having heart trouble.    His eyes continued on their visual assessment.  An IV tree was dripping clear liquid into her system via an IV in her arm.  Respirator equipment to the right of the bed, pumped up and down as it sent air into her lungs, via a trachea tube that was down her throat.  Even as he scanned her body seeing the large bruises, the bandages and wrappings around her chest cavity, he could tell that she had been in a fatal accident and the only thing that crossed his mind was, ‘I’m too late.’

After his inspection of the patient, Sam sat back down in the chair he had been in and gazed upon the patient’s face.  As he looked at her, he was taken aback when he recognized her.  He studied her features for a few long moments as flashbacks slowly came to him.

“Brigadoon, Brigadoon,” a brown haired little girl said abstractedly as she leaned back on a couch, her head resting on the palm of her hand as she stared off into space.

“NO!  I REMEMBER!  I remember!  I saw her do it!” the same little girl now shrieking in a courtroom as she ran down to her mother, another familiar face, then a moment later, running over to him, hugging him tightly telling him,  “I’ll never forget you.”

Then an older version of the same beautiful child who was standing beside him, trying to reach him as she cried, “Sam Beckett, you have a daughter who is just as stubborn and bright as you.  Her name is…”

“Sammy Jo,” he finished.  Questions filled his mind.  What had happened to her?  What could he do?  How? Why?  Where in the hell was Al to answer his questions.  He sat there, her hand in his, caressing his daughter’s hand, wanting ever so much to take her pain away.  “God, please, what do you want me to do?”

PART ONE

May 21, 1996

Augustana Hospital

Chicago, Illinois

7:35 PM

Sam laid his arm on the bed and then rested his head against his arm trying to control his emotions.  He wanted to cry out.  He wanted to take revenge on whoever had hurt his daughter.  He wanted….  He wanted answers and the only person who could give them to him wasn’t about to show up when he wanted him to.  He slowly shook his head wondering when the holographic image was going to show up when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  He was so caught up in his own emotions to even look up, but the raspy voice that went with the hand snapped his head around to its source.

“I’m so sorry.  I came as soon as I heard.”  Beside him, touching him was Ex-Rear Admiral Albert Calavicci.

Not comprehending the sense of his friend’s touch, questions ran through Sam’s mind pertaining to his where-abouts, his name and the reason why he’d come to wherever he was.  He was about to ask these questions to the man who stood beside him; however, he did an abrupt turn as he heard the chunk-zoom of the Imaging Chamber door open across the bed from him.  He quickly overcame his abruptness of turning and took his daughter’s hand back in his and looked up at her face once more.  It pained him to see her this way.

Al, the holographic image, came out from the Imaging Chamber door, with a tight grin.  “Sam, you won’t believe the guy in the Waiting…” he stopped as he looked around the room.  His eyes grew wide in disbelief and sorrow as he remembered what happened to Sammie Jo, and at seeing himself standing behind Sam.  “Oh boy,” he said softly as he ran his hand over his mouth only to drop it to his side.

Sam tore his attention away from Sammie Jo for a moment to look at Al.  Albert Calavicci, a short, slender man with an olive complexion, dark hair and dark puppy-dog eyes stood on either side of Sam.  Al, the observer, was dressed in an ornate yellow shirt, a black suit, a star talisman string tie and a matching yellow handkerchief in the coat lapel.  The other Al, dressed in a somber pair of black pants and a purple shirt, looked as if he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a couple of days.  He had black circles under his eyes, which were now filling with tears.

“Why did this happen, Al?” Sam questioned softly to both of them, but neither replied.  Each was caught up in their own emotions, choking off any kind of response that either could give.

The door behind them opened and a nurse came into the room.  She was dressed in a multicolored swirled top with matching bottoms.  A band pulled her shoulder-length black hair back and she carried a small tray that held only one syringe.  She gave a small warm smile to the men in the room as her eyes wanted over the figure of the woman on the bed.

All three turned to her as she came into the room. She blinked as she set down the tray then proceeded to inject the medicine from the syringe into Sammie Jo’s IV, then tossed the syringe in the disposal bin marked for it.  She placed her hand on Sammie Jo’s shoulder and patted her shoulder almost gently.  She then turned to look at Sam.  “You know, you could go home and get some rest.  I’ll stay with Samantha if you’d like.”

“No, I couldn’t.  I just got here,” Sam was surprised that he had let it slip.  “I don’t want to leave her.”  He wanted to be at her side when she woke, to let her know that he was here, in some sense of the word and to take care of her, that… that… that he would save her.

“You could.  I can tell by the circles under your eyes sir, you’re tired.”  She turned back to Sammie Jo and touched her hair, smoothing it out on the pillow on which it laid.  “Samantha is a sweet child.  She shouldn’t be here in this bed.  Her soul is kind and good, like her father’s,” the portly nurse turned and looked at Sam.

Al, the somber one, looked at the woman skeptically.  “And just how do you know Sammie Jo?” He cared very deeply for her and he didn’t want her to be used by some strange woman.

“Oh, Samantha and I know each other.  She always came to Dr. Pinkerton’s office when her family moved to Chicago.  I always gave her medication.”

Al’s eyebrows rose.   “Who are…?” he probed.

“Marilyn Anne Tenen,” she said plainly.

“I’m sorry, Marilyn.  I just can’t.  I know your intentions are good, but I can’t leave her,” Sam said softly.

Marilyn nodded in agreement.  “I know.”  Her face saddened as she glanced back at Sammie Jo.  “It’s hard to leave your daughter.”  She slowly smiled as she moved toward the tangible Albert Calavicci.

Al watched the woman before him warily.  He didn’t know what to expect from her and he didn’t want to be caught unaware.  That was one thing that the Navy had taught him, always being aware of those around you.  He straightened up as she approached.

“I’m sorry, sir, but visiting hours are over.”

“But…”

“Yes sir.  I know, but Mr. Mililani is her father and has permission from Dr. Pinkerton to remain in the room.  All visitors though, do need to leave.”

Al looked at Sam for reassurance.

Sam nodded.  He was glad he didn’t have to leave.  He did need to be alone, to think, to get answers from his observer.  He watched as Marilyn grabbed her tray; place it under her arm, then walked behind Al out of the room.

Once the door closed, Sam turned to his holographic pal.  “What in the hell is going on here, Al?  Why?  What has happened to Sammie Jo?  When am I?  Who am I?” he rattled.

Al raised his hand at Sam’s barrage of questions.  “One at a time, Sam.  One at a time.”  He took out the handlink and tinkered with the edges of it not wanting to call up Ziggy’s image immediately.  He knew that Sam wanted answers, so he kept it with what he knew.  What he remembered.  “You’ve leapt into Phillip Samuel Mililani, who is Sammie Jo’s step….”

The door opened causing Al to stop as he glanced to see whom it was who entered.  He looked back down at the handlink, but quickly looked back at the person again. 

“Phillip?” a feminine voice asked softly.  “How is she?  Any change?”

Sam looked at Al irritatedly.  He wanted answers and all of these interruptions weren’t helping.  He turned at the voice only for his mouth to open in awe.  He let go of Sammie Jo’s hand and stood seeing a woman before him… a woman that he hadn’t seen in a long time… and the same woman that he had loved dearly some time ago.  “Abigail?”

He looked at her for a long moment.  She was still beautiful even though time had aged her.  She was dressed in a light blue dress that showed off her figure and the way that her dark hair was pulled up behind her in a twist only showed off her elegance more.  Sam went to her and pulled her into his embrace.

“Phillip?” she asked as she returned his embrace hesitantly.  “You’re scaring me.  What happened?  Did the doctor come back since I left?”

“Ahh… no… I don’t think so,” Sam said truthfully not knowing for sure.  He leaned back away from her, his hands still on her waist so that he could look into her lovely eyes.

“You don’t think so?” she asked a little upset.  “What do you mean?”

“I… I…” he stammered.  “I had to use the restroom,” he lied.  “He might have come in while I was gone.”

“Oh.”  She looked at him warily one thin eyebrow curving up slightly.

Sam looked at her apologetically, his heart warming at the sight of her.  He knew without a doubt that he loved the woman before him and just as before, he found himself wanting to hold her more.

Abigail glanced at her daughter then back at Sam seeing the warming look in his eyes.  She grinned back at him. 

“Sam?” Al asked as he saw the look pass between the two.  “Maybe we should go somewhere else to talk.”

Abigail leaned forward putting her hands behind his neck.  She lightly brushed her lips against his.  Sam took the invitation of her lips on his and he brought her closer, deepening the kiss.

Al cleared his throat, trying to get his friends attention back at the subject at hand: why he was here.  “Sam?” he crooned.

Abigail broke off the kiss and looked at him for a long moment.  There was something in the look that he gave that reminded her of Will Kinman, Sammy Jo’s father.  She blinked back at him and looked at Sammie Jo just beyond him.  “Phillip, this isn’t the time or the place.”

Sam blushed embarrassed of his actions.  He swallowed and ducked his head as he put his hands in his pockets.  He coughed lightly and turned toward his daughter lying in the bed.

Abigail brushed past him to move to her.  She placed a motherly kiss on her daughter’s forehead.  “I’m here, Sammie.  Mom’s here.”  Abigail wanted to be strong for her daughter, but even as she touched Sammie’s’ hair, her left hand came up to her mouth, playing with her lips as tears threatened to fall.

Sam went to her placing a hand on her shoulder trying to comfort her.  “I’m going to go for a walk,” he told her softly knowing that he had to get answers from Al.  Abigail only nodded a reply.

Al followed Sam outside the hospital room and tried to pick up from where he left off.  “Okay, Sam.  You’ve leapt into Chicago, May 21, 1996.  You are Phillip Samuel Mililani, who is Sammie Jo’s stepfather.  He’s a retired police officer, and from his track record, he was a damn good one too.”

Sam looked at Al with a sideways glance as he listened.  “And?”

“And other than that, Ziggy has no idea why you’re here.”

Sam sighed irritatedly and stopped to look at Al squarely.  He briefly looked down the hallway toward Sammie Jo’s room from hence he came.  “Could it be that my daughter needs me?  What happened Al?”

Al rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully.  He pocketed the handlink and sighed.  “I let her go home to Chicago to visit her mom and step-dad.  She was driving in the rain – a downpour from what EMS and police officers said.  A drunk driver hit her.  She hit the steering wheel with enough force to break five ribs, two of which punctured her left lung and collapsed her right.  EMS said she was barely breathing when they found her unconscious.  They…”

“When?” Sam asked concerned.

“A day ago,” Al said softly.

“Dad!” Sam turned at the calling to see a young man coming up toward him.  “Dad, where is Sammie Jo?”  The dark haired young man hugged Sam only to pull away quickly from him.

“Down there… ah….”

“Room 115,” Al supplied.

“115.”   As the young man sprinted down the hallway in the direction Sam had just come, Sam pointed to him and looked at Al.  “I have a son?”

Al thought at that moment to go ahead and tell Sam that he had a brown headed, bright-eyed brilliant son who seemed to be mimicking his father’s independence and optimism.  However, Al remembered the rules of the project and he backed away as he bopped up on his toes and sighed.  “Phillip has three of his own kids.  Daniel, the one that just breezed through here is the oldest.  Next in line is Alex and third, is Candace.  They are triplets and if I remember correctly, they will be arriving soon.”

“Triplets?” Sam breathed.  He ran his hand over his mouth and was about to speak again, when Marilyn appeared at his side.

Marilyn smiled at him.  “You felt like coming out after all.”  She saw the wavering impish look that she was given and she glanced down at the floor for a moment.  “It’s going to be okay, Mr. Mililani.”

“Will it?” Sam asked thought thinking of Sammie Jo on the bed helpless and in the hands of the doctors in the hospital.

“Yes,” she nodded understanding how he felt and patted his arm gently. 

“I appreciate your concern, Marilyn.”

“My prayers are with you.”  She then turned and walked down the hallway toward the nurse’s station.

Al dug out the handlink from his pocket.  “All right, Sam,” he said as he shot a glance at the woman walking away from him.   “I’ll go back and get some information for you.  I’ll be back ASAP.”  Al then pulled up the Imaging Chamber Door and vanished as he stepped through the light.

Sam nodded then rubbed his hands over his face.  He needed to talk to someone and the only someone that he could talk with was in the hospital’s waiting room.

PART TWO

November 23, 2005

Stallions Gate, New Mexico

5:35 PM

As Al stepped back into the Control Room, the room took on a helter-skelter spin for a brief moment then settled down leaving him with an instant headache.  He shook his head slightly as if to clear the pain from it.  He slowly put his hand to the wall as he felt the dizziness slowly disappear.  He took a few hesitant steps then paused as he blinked and took two slow deep breaths to rid himself of the nausea he now felt bubbling up.  He swallowed and wondered what was wrong with him.

“Al?” a very concerned voice asked softly.  “Are you okay, Admiral?”

Al looked up into the concerned face of Tina Martinez-O’Farrell.  Tina’s head was cocked to the side, her full lips pursed in worry.  He smiled at her.  “Yeah, I’m fine.  Just a dizzy spell.”  He pushed himself away from the wall and went to the Control Room with Tina fidgeting at his side.  He approached the Control Grid and carefully placed the handlink into its assigned spot.  “Ziggy?  Any chance that we can find out what is going on back in May 21, 1996?”

“At the moment,” Ziggy purred at him, “I’m accessing newspapers and archives in the Chicago Area.  I’ll come up with some information for you when this feat is accomplished.”

“Great,” Al supplied then he turned his attention to the people who had gathered around the Control Grid.  Dominic, who for the most part was beginning to get used to his job; Tina was grinning as she chomped on her gum enthusiastically; and the third person was somebody he didn’t recognize.  He frowned as he studied her.

The woman stood about five foot seven, had a beautiful full lips, green eyes and long brown hair.  He couldn’t remember right off hand her name; however, he turned back to Tina with a quizzical expression.  Almost with a definite nod to the woman, Al asked, “Where’s Sammie Jo?”

“Sammie Jo?” Tina asked just as quizzically back to him with a furrow in her brow.

“Yeah.  I want to talk to Sammie Jo about the retrieval program she’s been working on.  She said she thought she had it almost completed.”

“Al, are you okay?” Tina asked as she blinked at him and stopped chewing her gum so adamantly.  “You know that Marilyn has been working on the retrieval program.  She’s been working very hard on it and…” Tina glanced at the woman who was now frowning with worry.

“If you’ve had someone else working on it, Admiral, we could compare notes and possibly be able to bring Dr. Beckett home,” the brunette said with concern.

Al’s head whipped back around to the other woman and her name magically appeared – Marilyn Hines.  He had hired her – he realized and quickly began to feel his memory refilling with how Marilyn and Gooshie had worked so hard on Ziggy to make the earlier retrieval program work.  ‘No,’ Al’s mind argued with him.  ‘That was Sammie Jo!  Not Marilyn Hines.  Wasn’t it?’  Not understanding what was going on, Al looked up at the circular orb above him and asked, “Where is Dr. Samantha Josephine Fuller?”

The room fell instantly quiet for a moment before Ziggy’s voice floated down around him, “Admiral Calavicci, Dr. Samantha Josephine Fuller died on May 23, 1996.”

Almost as instantly as Ziggy had uttered the words, Al’s mind seemed to explode with memories that he had not had before.  Memories of a funeral for the lovely woman who was Sam Beckett’s – his best friend’s – daughter.  Instant pain and anguish filled his heart and he immediately turned to Dominic with his finger pointed directly at him.  “I don’t care how much energy it drains, keep that lock on Sam.  I want to get back to him in any possible emergency.  You hear that Ziggy?  Monitor him with that… that… whatever meter-thingy-ma-bob you have and just let me know.  Okay?”

“Yes, Admiral,” both Dominic and Ziggy replied simultaneously.

Al turned, gave an apologetic look to Marilyn then quickly strode out of the room, his mind set on one specific place – his office.  He knew he could find answers there.

May 21, 1996

Augustana Hospital

Chicago, Illinois

8:00 PM

Sam walked into the hospital waiting room to see Admiral Albert Calavicci sitting down with his elbows on his knees and his head supported in his hands.  Giving a somewhat heartsick smile, Sam walked over to him, sat beside him then cleared his throat hoping to get Al’s attention so they could talk.

Al sighed worriedly and glanced to see who had sat down beside him and saw Mr. Mililani, Sammie Jo’s stepfather.  He wanted to get up and walk away quickly but his manners where two stubborn to let him.  “Mr. Mililani, I…” Al started.

“Please, call me Sam,” Sam responded almost to casually.

Al lopsidedly grinned at him as he thought of Sam Beckett for a brief moment.  “Sam?” Al looked at him a bit skeptically.

“Yes, I like to go by my middle name, Samuel… Sam,” Sam covered up his own flub.

Al nodded understanding.  “Sam, I’m sorry that I let her come.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, I…”

Sam’s emotions quickly got the better of him and he quickly put his hand on his best friend’s shoulder.  “It’s not your fault, Al.  You were not the drunk driver.”

Al nodded slowly.  “True, but I was the nozzle that approved her to go on the drive in the first place.”

“Yes, you did.  You were the one that approved her to come up here to visit us and we are so appreciative of that, Admiral.  Being able to spend time with our daughter is very important to both Abigail and myself.”  Sam knew the words were the ones to say because he honestly felt them.  “We really appreciate what you’ve done to help our daughter out.”

Al searched Phillip’s face for a long moment as his brain forged through all the information he knew on Samantha Josephine Fuller and her mother Abigail.  Knowing that he couldn’t say anything about the project, he said, “All I did was ask her if she wanted a job.”

“You’re right,” Sam answered.  “It was a job that you felt assured that she could do and deserved, or you wouldn’t have offered it to her so freely.”  Sam stepped aside as he felt Phillip’s presence take hold of the conversation.  “Sammie Jo is even so wrapped up in her work that we see so little of her now, and don’t you worry, Admiral Calavicci, Sammie Jo hasn’t told us anything about whatever is going on in New Mexico.  That girl can blab when she wants but she’s so clammed up, we could probably open her mouth and get a pearl one of these days.”  Sam grinned as soon as the words came out then turned to see Al smirking then make a somewhat of a gurgling sound before he began to laugh.

Both men laughed for a moment and let loose a moment of tension from what had brought them together.  Sam had never felt more at ease and he so wanted to tell his best friend whom he was.  Yet, instead, to keep up the charade, he asked, “So, maybe you can tell me, Admiral…”

“Call me Al,” Al blurted out quickly.

“Al… tell me what do you do that is so dreadfully important in New Mexico,” Sam finished just curious to find out what Al would say to those who didn’t know about the Time Traveling experiment.

“Well, it’s a government funded operation that’s top secret, Sam.  Beyond that, it’s all I can tell you.  I’m sure that Sammie Jo told you all that she could.”

Sam nodded as Phillip re-emerged from somewhere in the recesses of his mind.  “Well, Al, I can tell that you are taking good care of our Sammie Jo.  She looked very healthy – uh – relatively speaking, of course,” Sam said softly.

“You have one hell of a daughter,” Al said just as softly.

“I know,” Sam answered.  “I know.”

PART THREE

November 23, 2005

Stallions Gate, New Mexico

Project Quantum Leap

Al rubbed his temples as he walked down the corridor toward his office.  He couldn’t understand what had happened to cause the timeline change.  What had Sam changed so violently to have Samantha Josephine Fuller, his own daughter, wiped out of history?

He sighed and rubbed at his face with his hands.  He was getting too old to have this problem and he wasn’t sure how he was going to correct history this time.  He’d question Ziggy on it and hopefully she’d have an answer for him. 

He turned the last corner to go to his office when a small body ran smack into him.  Stumbling toward the wall, Al’s eyes popped open to see Stephen Beckett, his hands full of electronics.  “Stephen… what the…”

“Oh, Uncle Al, I’m sorry.  I wasn’t watching where I was going.  I’m sorry, but… you know,” Stephen said his eyes brightening with excitement, “I maybe able to come up with a new concept for the handlink.  I mean, you can see just the top half of Ziggy.  I could make it to where she’s a fully integrated holographic person to interact with.  Cool, huh?”

Al half-listened to the young Beckett before him and frowned as he looked at the electronics in his arms.  He slightly shook his head but knew that giving Stephen any negative words would destroy his spirit.  “Sure, kid.  If you can do that, you go ahead.  But you know the rules, right?”

Stephen’s face even brightened more.  “Sure do!  So, I can go ahead and try?”

Al smiled at the young man standing before him, his eyes so full of excitement and wonder.  No matter what happened, he didn’t want Stephen to think that he didn’t care about whatever the kid was working on.  Reaching out to shuffle his hair, he said, “Go for it.”

“Thanks, Uncle Al.”

Al stood back as the young man grinned up at him and hurried down the hallway.  Sighing, he shook his head wishing that he had the boy’s energy before he opened the door to his office and shut it behind him.

“Ziggy?”

“Yes,” the hybrid computer purred down to him.

“Who is Marilyn Hines and what happened to Sammie Jo?”

“I already told you, Admiral.  She died May 23, 1996.”

“No…. No, no no… no,” Al shook his head adamantly.  “She was here up until Sam leaped into Phillip Mililani and you know that you hunk of bolts!  Don’t you?”

“I remember her,” the hybrid computer answered back softly.  “I don’t know what Dr. Beckett has changed but his presence already made the outcome as they are now, Admiral.”

“I don’t like this outcome, Ziggy.  What do we need to do to change it back?”

“I do not know, Admiral Calavicci,” the hybrid computer answered back softly.  “As soon as I can tell what Dr. Beckett has changed, I can only…”

“Only what?” Al demanded of the parallel hybrid computer.

“Speculate.”

Al’s jaw opened and he glanced up at the ceiling as his eyes slightly widening at her answer.  “Ziggy,” he said when he was able to formulate words once again.  “For Sammie Jo and Sam’s sake, do the best speculation you can.  If anyone can do it, you can.”

May 21, 1996

Augustana Hospital

Chicago, Illinois

8:45 PM

Sam and Al had talked for another thirty minutes before the rest of Phillip’s family showed up demanding to know where their sister was.  After a brief introduction, Sam excused himself from his best friend and returned to room 115.

Daniel, Candace and Alex stood on one side of the bed looking down at their older stepsister with tears brimming their eyes while Abigail sat on the opposite side reaching out to hold Sammie Jo’s hand affectionately.

Sam went to stand behind Abigail and gently massaged her shoulders.  “Have the doctors come in yet?”

Abigail nodded.  “Dr. Hilliard said that she could wake up at any time,” Abigail said wearily with an intake of a gasp.

“That’s good,” Sam replied softly giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze.

“… within the next year,” Alex finished his mother’s sentence and immediately got the back of his head clipped by his brother, Daniel.

“What?” Sam asked a bit surprised as Alex let out a squawk from being smacked so smartly.

“Quit it,” Alex ducked his head.

“You started it,” Daniel retorted back.

“Will you two stop it?” Candace questioned with a shove at both of them.  “Sammie’s hurt and you two are…”

“Stop it,” Abigail said softly, her eyes on her first born.  Slowly though, her eyes made it over to her other children who were still rattling off at each other, beginning to shove and push at each other. 

“I did not.  I was telling dad what the doctor said.”

“I know what you were doing. You’re wrong…”

“She’ll wake up.  She’s gotta wake up…” Candace said as she brought her right hand up to her mouth and fidgeted with her lip like her mother.

“I said, stop it,” Abigail raised her voice appropriately but the boys had already turned to each other and were nose to nose.

Sam couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but he quickly snapped to and crossed around the hospital bed, split the boys apart and held them at arms length.  “You will stop this nonsense right now,” he demanded of them.  “Do you hear me?”  The boys dropped their eyes and nodded before he dropped his hands and took a step toward the bed.  “Now, what did the doctor say?”

“They don’t know when… or if she might wake up, Dad,” Candace said softly.

“What?!” Sam exclaimed a bit too loudly.  He then moved away from the bed, and began to pace a four step pace at the foot of Sammie Jo’s hospital bed.

“Phillip…”

“This doesn’t make any sense.  How can a couple of broken ribs, a punctured lung and various contusions make them say…?” Sam stopped muttering to himself, turned to look at his daughter looking so frail and weak in the bed then glanced at the family around Sammie Jo’s form.  “She’ll wake up, but right now, I know some children and a very worried mother who will be going back home to…”

Refusals immediately began to erupt in the room.  Sam looked at each one of them in turn before he took in a deep breath and gave his pronouncement.  He held up his hands for them to quiet down and once they did, he said, “Listen, Abigail, you know how you need your sleep, and you three know how your mom gets when I’m not at home.  Now…”

“I’m not leaving, Phillip,” Abigail proclaimed adamantly.

“Oh yes you are, and do you know why you are going?” he asked as he approached her.  Abigail raised an eyebrow at him wondering what reason he was going to give.  Her eyes immediately began to water as he said, “Because Sammie Jo is my daughter and she needs her daddy right now.”

“Oh Phillip,” Abigail said softly as her bottom lip began to quiver.  Those words meant more to her than she knew since he wasn’t her biological father.  She slowly stood up from the chair and moved to him to hug him tightly to her.  “I love you,” she told him softly before placing a kiss under his earlobe.

“I love you, too,” Sam said softly and reveled in the kiss that he had just received.  He looked over at the three standing beside the bed and slowly pushed Abigail away from him as much as he hated to do it.  “I know that you… all of you don’t want to leave Sammie Jo’s side, but it’s not going to help with all of us exhausted. Go home, get some sleep and I’ll keep watch tonight.  Tomorrow, we’ll switch out.”

Abigail nodded her head and held out a hand to her children.  As they started toward the door, Sam watched as the Daniel gave Alex another smack against the head for his words earlier.  He gave them a fatherly look of disdain, which made Daniel immediately apologize then watched as they left the room. 

Sam then turned back to Sammie Jo lying so helplessly on the bed and he licked his lips and did what any other doctor would do.  He checked all the machines, all the monitors, as well as the IV’s.  Once satisfied that they were all fine, he settled back into the chair that Abigail had vacated.  “Wake up, Sammie,” he whispered softly as he propped himself up on his elbow on the side of the chair.  “It’s all I want… just… wake up.”

PART FOUR

November 23, 2005

Stallion’s Gate, New Mexico

Project Quantum Leap

7:35 PM

“What do you mean you have no idea?” Al snapped sharply up at the ceiling of his office.  He had waited two and a half hours to get some iota of information from Ziggy and she still had nothing substantial to go on.  “There’s got to be something!  Something!  Tell me what the newspapers/archives said about Sammie Jo.”

Ziggy remained quiet for a moment before she began to give the information she had gathered from the Chicago area.  “In the Chicago Sun-Times dated May 24, 1996, it reads:  Fuller, Samantha Josephine died May 23, 1996 at age 29.  Her mother, Abigail Fuller-Mililani, is her only surviving family member.  Samantha gave generously and selflessly of her time and resources to support her fellow man and will be missed by all who benefited from her love and care.  Funeral services will be held at Parkside Chapels and Cremation Services 5948 Archer Avenue in Chicago on Sunday, May 26, 1996 at 2:00 PM.  Arrangements by Jeff and John Sutton.”  Ziggy paused then added, “The other article that I have, Admiral is the autopsy report.  According to it, Samantha Fuller died of a massive heart attack attributed from an air embolism as a result of the injuries sustained in the automobile accident on May 20, 1996.”

Al closed his eyes, his face blanched from Ziggy’s words.  He couldn’t believe what he had heard.  “I remember both timelines, Ziggy.  She was fine previously.  This just doesn’t make any sense.  Dammit!”  Al’s fist slammed into his desk.  “I’m missing something.  What am I missing!?”

Turning his back on his desk, Al rubbed his face with his left hand then with one thought in mind headed for the door.  As he headed down the corridor for the Waiting Room, Al prayed that Phillip would have some idea to help him out.  He had to have something… right?

In the few minutes that it took for Al to get to the Waiting Room, he already had several questions for Phillip that he wanted answers to.  As the door swished open, Al quickly scanned the room to see Phillip Mililani in Sam Beckett’s aura sitting on a chair, his head bowed as it rested in his left hand.  The way that his body seemed slumped in the chair made him look submissive and despondent.

Hearing the door open, Phillip looked up and immediately straightened up in the chair, his head coming up, his jaw tightening and he glared at the man who entered.  Swallowing, he readied himself for whatever would come his way and licked at his lips as he assumed that the one approaching him was the one in charge.  He glanced back at the door and his jaw twitched in despair as the door shut.  Clearing his throat, Phillip ran his eyes over the man then said forcibly, “Let me see her.”

Al frowned, his whole frame of mind wiped clear of what he had wanted to ask by Phillip’s demand.  “Who?”

“My daughter.  She’s hurt and I understand that you want answers,” Phillip said his jaw tightening as he tilted his head defiantly.  “Do what you want to with me, just don’t hurt Samantha.”

Al blinked.  He was more than a little shocked at what Phillip was saying to him but he completely understood where the man was coming from, especially being a retired police officer.  Al raised his hands in a pacifying manner.  “You’ve got this all wrong.  Sammie Jo is in Augustana Hospital.  She hasn’t been removed and we didn’t kidnap you or her, sir.”

Phillip fixed Al with a patronizing leer.  “You’re holding me against my will.”

“Yes sir,” Al responded, “and with good reason.”  Seeing the challenging glance, Al supplied, “You are in a top secret project, Officer Mililani and…”

“I don’t have clearance?” Phillip queried back.

“That’s right,” Al said with a wave of his hand.

“I don’t believe you.  Sounds too much like a pile of bull if you ask me.  A top-secret project with top-secret clearance and you’re holding me against my will.  Sounds like kidnapping to me.”

Al’s demeanor wilted.  “Come with me.”  Al walked toward the bed that stood in the middle of the room and glanced back over to see Phillip still seated.  “I just want you to take a look into the mirror.  That’s all.”

Phillip slowly stood up and made his way over toward the bed and watched the man before him warily.  “A mirror?”

“Yes, sir.”  Al pointed to the mirror and stepped back ready for the shock that he was sure that Phillip would go through.

Phillip leaned forward still looking at the man before him then peered down into the mirror.  He blinked several times and touched his face watching the reflection as he did so.  “Okay,” he said plainly as his hand came up to touch the small white patch of gray over Sam Beckett’s brow.  “What kind of project is this?  You explain that to me, and if … if I can remember, I’ll let you know what you want to know.”

Al nodded.  “Fair enough.  Mr. Mililani, you are currently involved in a Time Travel experiment.”  That information brought Phillip’s head up and his eyes peered back at Al guardedly. “This experiment allows Sam, that’s who you see in the mirror, to trade places with you in the past to help solve problems that have occurred.  Once that problem is fixed, you’ll go back.”

“Does… this guy, Sam, know what’s wrong?”

“Yes and no.  That’s why I came in here to ask you about your life and your family.”

“And you are?”

“I’m Al.”

“Okay, Al.  Ask away, but I’m not sure if I can remember anything.  I seem to have holes in my memory,” Phillip answered.  He glanced down at the mirror before him once more and with a shake of his head turned back to Al.

“That’s natural around here,” Al answered with a half-sigh.  “Alright, let’s just start off with what you remember about you