PROLOGUE 

 Sam was deposited into another life unknowingly. Even as he was settling into his host’s body, he came to realize that his hands were resting on a car’s steering wheel. A quick thought came to his mind. ‘At least, the car’s not running.’ Taking his hands off the wheel, he looked down at his attire and saw that he was wearing blue jeans, a T-shirt that read Budweiser, and a pair of white and blue tennis shoes.

Sam looked into the darkness that surrounded the car, which was parked in front of a large Victorian house. The wind whipped at the vehicle making it shudder. Lightning spattered across the sky throwing a startling light upon the house. Thunder clapped across the sky causing Sam to jump. As the clouds opened and rain began to pour down, Sam turned on the interior lights in the car to distract himself.

Safe in the car, he was able see who he was by looking at the reflection in the rearview mirror. His host had light green eyes, brown hair and, thankfully, an honest face. He experimentally smiled at the man in the mirror and on first impression decided that he was someone that he would probably like. Sam looked away from the mirror and put his hand to his right rear pocket, feeling for a wallet. Bingo. He pulled out the wallet and opened it and discovered it belonged to Lucas Winters. Glancing at the information there, he looked back up to the house through the rain and came to the conclusion that this house wasn’t Lucas’s address since the numbers didn’t match.

Sam frowned as he put the wallet back in his pocket. He decided that it was better if he went up to the house and took his chances as to where he was. At least then he’d be able to figure out exactly where he was. He opened the car door, locked it, then quickly jogged up to the door. As hard as it was raining, he was thoroughly drenched by the time he got there. He shook his clothes for a moment then ran his hands through his hair to shed the saturation from it.

As he stood at the door, a chill passed through him. He frowned at the sensation not understanding why he felt as if he should be running away from the house and not to it. Brushing the sensations aside, he went up to the door and knocked. The door lightly creaked open and his frown deepened. People didn’t go around leaving their houses open. Pushing the door open part of the way, he announced, "Hello? Anybody home?"

He heard a noise from another room, a whimper, and felt compelled to investigate even though his primal instincts told him to run. As he edged down the hall, he looked at the pictures that were decorating the walls. The pictures revealed three people that probably lived here; a beautiful brunette with dark blue eyes that sparkled for the camera, a dark blond-haired man with green eyes who was very muscular, and a blond-haired little girl with dark green eyes like her father.

He picked at the wet T-shirt sticking to his body. The house was very stuffy and hot, and he could smell a rancid sour smell as he moved further down the hall. He covered his nose with his hand, and breathed through his mouth to help ease his senses of the smell. Coming up to the doorway, he glanced to the left and saw an empty dining room. He continued on down the hall to the next opening and turned his head to the right; the hall opened into the living room and it was here that he found the shocking cause of the stench "Oh boy," he whispered as his heart sank.

PART ONE

 March 28, 1988

Austin, Texas

Sam choked back the nausea that crept up the center of his being. He blew out a shaky breath of air and blinked at the sight before him. Two bodies were lying in their own blood in the middle of the living room floor. From the looks of it, they had been dead more than a day or two. The smell that emitted from them was strong enough that it took him everything he had to swallow the nausea that overwhelmed him.

Before he did anything else, he went to the phone. He dialed 911 and waited only a moment before a dispatcher answered. After a quick explanation of what he’d found, he explained that he wasn’t sure what the address was. Once all the questions were answered, he sat the phone down as ordered and turned to look back at the bodies.

He went up to them and squatted down to assess what he could without touching the bodies. He didn’t want to contaminate the crime scene anymore than he already had. He couldn’t see where the young lady had been hurt since she was lying on her stomach, but her face was turned toward the couch, her eyes open. The man, however, was another story. Sam could tell exactly what happened to him. The gun lay maybe a foot away from the body, and the gaping whole at the temple told Sam suicide.

"Oh boy." He said softly as he shook his head. It was then that he heard it again.

A small whimper came from behind the couch. It was very weak sounding, like a sick or abandoned kitten. A slight rustle of cloth followed the sound, indicating that the source of the rustle was much larger than a cat but still small enough to make very little sound. Another whimper again touched Sam’s ears.

Sam turned his head toward the sound of the rustling. He cocked his head to the side and looked behind the couch to see the little girl from the photographs. He licked at his lips and ran the back of his hand under his nose trying to make the smell fade, knowing that it wouldn’t until he was out of the house. He slowly moved to the couch and pushed it out farther away from the wall to fully reveal the small young lady. She was sitting with her back up against the wall, her legs bent up, her arms wrapped around her legs. He could see the dark purple and blue bruises that lined her cheeks and her right eye. 

"Are you okay?" He asked as warmly and softly as he could.

Without a word but with fear plain in her eyes, she curled tighter into herself. She was shaking from head to toe, her eyes avoiding looking at Sam. Though filled with fear, her eyes were glassy, as if she weren’t completely aware of her surroundings.

Sam moved the couch a little further out so that he could get behind the couch as well while still hiding the bodies behind it. He sat down; his legs crossed and scooted in toward her.

She suddenly and quickly stood up and tried to get away from him, whimpers coming from her mouth. However, it was obvious that she had been in the same position for a long time because, even though they were earnest, her actions seemed cramped.

Sam caught her as she tried to tumble past him. He pulled her close to his body and began to coo at her. She pushed against him, but his calm and reassuring "It’s okays" were slowly becoming apparent to her. 

She no longer fought him but she was rigid in his arms, as if unsure how to take the caring that he was offering to her. She didn’t make a sound other than a slight whimper here and there as an indication that, although she knew he wasn’t going to hurt her, she didn’t completely trust him and she was still very frightened.

Sam softly ran his hand up and down her back trying to comfort her but at the same time assessing her health. He was positive that she was in shock and would have a difficult time ahead of her with psychological therapy as to what had been happening in the house throughout her life. He closed his eyes and sighed as he shook his head. The whole situation bothered him. If he had come sooner, he could have saved them all. The thought of being late nagged at him, bringing him to a tug of war with his emotions.

The Imaging Chamber door opened, causing the girl to start fighting to get away from Sam again, the urge to run apparent in her every action. Al stepped through the door and shut it behind him. The usual wild décor that adorned the Ex Rear Admiral Albert Calavicci had been pushed aside for something a little more casual and down to earth. He wore a pair of black slacks, a dark blue long sleeved shirt and loafers.

"No… shhh, shhh." Sam cooed at her trying to calm her down again as he turned to look at Al. Sam turned his head back to the doorway when he heard the sounds of the arriving Calvary as well.

The first thing that caught Al’s eyes were the two bodies on the floor causing him to quickly turn his head becoming instantly nauseous. "Gees." He whispered softly before stepping away from the bodies and more towards Sam, squatting down so that he could face his partner and avoid the bodies. 

"What’s going on here, Al? What’s the deal? I come into a house where there are dead bodies!"

Al cringed at his words before looking at the little girl with sudden sympathy. "Not here, not now, Sam. Let’s just get this little girl out of here. She’s what matters right now." He sighed, sadness in his eyes. "Poor girl." It seemed as if Al was hurting almost as much as the little girl by the way he spoke.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but wasn’t able to before he heard a bullhorn sound outside. "The house is surrounded. Come out with your hands up."

Sam sighed. He gently stood up helping the little girl up as well and lighted her into his arms. Without much struggle from her, he held her closely and turned toward the bodies and cringed again at the thought of her in the same room with them. Slowly he moved through the house, into the hall and out the door. When he appeared outside, he went to the porch swing and sat down, rearranging her in his lap, his hands in the open.

Al followed him out, again avoiding the bodies and watched as police officers approached Sam with weapons drawn while others went into the house.

"Al, I need everything you have on Lucas Winters." Sam said plainly. He knew that they would question him and he wanted to make sure that he knew the answers. Two officers came onto the porch and checked Sam for weapons as Al spoke.

The Observer pulled the hand link back up as he shook his head. "Right, Sam." After hitting a few buttons to call up the information, he began. "Well, from what we got here, you’re in Austin, Texas. It’s March 28, 1988, and as you’ve figured out, you’ve leapt into Lucas Winters. He is a thirty-five year old who helps out with Child Protection Services by being a Foster Parent and is also active in the FVPT in Austin. FVPT, Sam, is the Family Violence Protection Team. Ziggy ran a check on this guy and there’s nothing going on in his life that needs to be fixed that is of concern here. He used to be married but is widowed. He has helped out several kids through the system into adoptive families. Talk about a good guy, Sam."

Sam nodded, and waited until the house was cleared, and the two officers left him. He noticed that the storm had abated as he shivered in the weak wind.

"Al, run a check on the people who lived here. We need to find out who she is." Sam said as he looked down at her finally starting to cozy up into his arms.

Al nodded understandingly and began his search. After finding out the names of her parents, Daniel and Merriam Bowen, he had Ziggy do a search of Birth Records finding out what the little girl’s name was. "Got it. Her name is Dawn Bowen." Finding more information about the little girl, Al shook his head sadly. "Oh Sam, she’s only five years old."

"What happens to her?" Sam asked as he once again laid his cheek on her hair.

Al tapped the handlink and his frown deepened. "Oh, no." Al sighed at the news that he read. "Dawn Bowen is an orphan, who eventually dies from AIDS when she is 18 years old. She became a prostitute; in and out of trouble since the age of 14." Al bent down beside Sam as he looked at the profile of the bruised little girl in his friend’s arm. "Sam, we can’t let that happen."

"I know, Al, I know." Sam gently rubbed her back, as he started to feel her begin to sob silently against him. Sam sat quietly with Dawn in his arms. Sam looked up into the face of a beautiful redheaded woman in a police officer’s uniform as she approached him. Her hair was pulled loosely in a ponytail behind her neck, strands of hair whisking about her face. Her green eyes sparkled at him as she pulled out a small spiral notebook from her pocket along with a pen then pulled up a patio chair and sat down in front of him.

"Alright, let’s see here. Let’s start with the easy information and then you can tell me about what happened here." She said as she readied her pen. After she finished questioning Sam about his personal information, and about what had happened and how he came upon it, she frowned. "I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to question Dawn."

Sam’s brow furrowed. "Question her?" He asked as he tightened his arms slightly around her. Dawn didn’t make a sound, but wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her head in toward his chest, keeping her eyes closed tightly. "She’s been through enough don’t you think Officer Baumgart? She has been through something very traumatic. I don’t see how you’d be able to get any information from her. She hasn’t said a word to me, and all she seems to want to do at the moment is be held, cry and be comforted."

Sergeant Baumgart looked tiredly at him. It was after all, 3 A.M. "Mr. Winters, do you realize that I’m going to have a ton of paperwork…"

Sam didn’t give her the chance to finish her statement. "Sergeant Baumgart, I’m sure that the FVPT will not be pleased at you questioning a young child after a violent scene. Since I am a registered Foster Parent with the district, I would like to get authority to take her back to my house where I will keep her until she is ready to talk. As you can see, she seems to be clamped onto me and won’t let go. Hence, it may be wise that you just verify that I can take her home."

Sergeant Baumgart uncrossed her legs, frowned and stood. "I’ll go check into it, but don’t be so sure of yourself, Mr. Winters." As she began to walk away from the porch, she turned back to him. "By the way, Mr. Winters, I wouldn’t leave town if I were you."

Sam pursed his lips at her words and turned to Al. Once out of earshot, he said, "I want to know everything about this Lucas Winters and the Bowen family. Everything. You got that, Al?"

"Alright, Sam, you don’t have to get snitty with me. I’ll go back and question Winters and see what we can dig up." Al called up the Imaging Chamber and noticed that Dawn jumped again as it sounded its clunk zoom. "Watch out for her, Sam. Don’t let anything happen to her." Al said worriedly.

Sam nodded back at Sam just as Sergeant Baumgart was coming back up to the porch with a grim face. Even before she got up to him, he knew that he had done the right thing in taking Dawn home to be with him. He’d get to the bottom of this if it was the last thing that he’d do, and he’d save her in the process.
 
 

PART TWO

March 13, 2001

Stallions Gate, New Mexico

Al stepped back into the Control Room and leaned against the wall for support. The scene he had walked in on disturbed him more than he wanted to admit. He had seen so many faces like hers before, and his heart went out to her. He closed his eyes and raised his face toward the ceiling as he thought about how her life must have been before this happened. He could just see how the bad must have gotten worse.

"Al?" Al slowly turned his head to the voice that had called him. Beth stood at the bottom of the ramp, her head cocked to the side, a concerned frown etched on her face.

Al straightened up and walked to her, placing his arms around her giving her a tight hug.

"Al, are you okay?" She asked quietly as she gave him a hug in return.

Al nodded mutely. Seeing that cute little girl bruised and hurting was a little more than he could handle. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and give her the love and attention that she needed. He pulled back from Beth’s hug and kissed her nose before looking over at the two technicians who were busy behind Ziggy’s Control Grid. Wrapping his arm around Beth’s lower back, he moved into the Control Room. Stopping at the center of the room, Al looked up at Ziggy’s power fluctuations in the crystalline ball hanging from the ceiling. "Ziggy," Al’s voice caught in his throat and he lightly coughed and cleared his throat. "Ziggy, I need a full history of any and everything reported on the Bowen family and on Lucas Winters."

"Yes Admiral." Ziggy’s sexy voice quipped.

Al looked at the lab technicians behind Ziggy’s console and nodded to them as they walked through the room. Turning his attention back to Beth, he quietly asked as he looked at the tiled floor, "Why are you down this way, dear?"

Beth noticed how Al continued to look down as he talked to her. She knew her husband too well. He mind was busy on what was going on with Sam and she knew that he needed to talk about what was going on with the leap. "What’s going on Al? Is it Sam?"

"No," Al said as he finally looked at her. "Sam’s fine. It’s the situation that he’s leaped into, Beth." Al took a deep breath as he stopped walking toward the Waiting Room. "There’s a five year old little girl named Dawn. She’s in shock right now. Both of her parents are dead; her father shot her mom then turned it on himself and she was there for it all. It looked like she’s been there for days sitting behind the couch, smelling death around her. God, Beth, my heart goes out to her. I wish there was something that I could do."

"Al, baby, it’s already done with. You can’t stop it from happening."

Beth said as she placed her hand lightly on his cheek. 

"I know, Beth, but I feel like I need to just hug her, you know?"

"I know, baby, I know." Beth said as she gave him another hug. As she pulled away she said, "I was going to come down here to see if you wanted to take an early lunch." 

Al lightly tapped her nose. "I’d love to, but I need to find out some more information for Sam. Another time?" 

Beth knew that if this little girl was on his mind that she wouldn’t see him for awhile. She could see that fatherly instinct come into focus as she looked into his eyes. Beth nodded as she smiled at him. "Go ahead." She lightly kissed his cheek and headed off back the way she had come.

Al watched her as she walked away realizing for the umpteenth time how his wife was the most caring, understanding woman that he had ever met. And here she was, married to an ornery, bull-headed, pain in the ass that loved every single cell in her beautiful body. God, do I love the way that she walks, he thought with a wicked gleam in his eyes. Licking his lips, he focused his attention back to the matter at hand. He knew what needed to be done. He needed to talk with Lucas Winters and see if he knew what the hell was going on with the Bowen family. Taking a deep breath, he headed toward the Waiting Room.

Al placed his hand on the security plate outside of the Waiting Room and only waited a moment before Ziggy allowed access into the room. He stood a second longer than necessary then proceeded into the room. 

The light blue room that was supposed to calm their visitors echoed the sound of the door as it closed behind him. Al had seen numerous people in the Waiting Room with a variety of emotions so he wasn’t surprised to see the aura of Dr. Beckett pacing listlessly in the room. It almost seemed habitual to see the four-step walk back and forth. It was calming to Al to see that some things never changed. He shook his head as he looked at the floor in front of the bed and wondered just how long it was going to hold up to that constant motion.

Al approached the man. He cleared his voice once more getting a hand on his emotions that were overwhelming him. "Lucas?"

Lucas turned to Al stopping his pace in his tracks. "I was told that someone would come in to talk to me. Are you that someone?"

Al grinned as he nodded to the question. He was always that someone who seemed to want the answers to everything. "Lucas, I need to ask you some questions, and hopefully you can remember enough to answer them for me."

"I’ll do what I can. It took me awhile to figure out my name for the lovely black woman who came in earlier… ahm, Dr. Becks, was it?" Lucas asked as he made his way back to the metallic bed. He turned and looked at Al as he leaned back against it.

Al followed him toward the bed. "Dr. Beeks," he corrected. "She’s excellent in her duties here." He commented as he placed his weight on his right hand as he too casually leaned against the bed.

"So…ahm… I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you?" Lucas questioned as he raised one eyebrow.

"You can call me Al. I run this joint." Al said as he twirled his left hand around the room. 

Lucas nodded at the information. "Ok. So, Al, what do you want to know? I’ll do the best I can to tell you."

"Good enough for me." Al said as he pulled the hand link out of his pocket. He punched the buttons making it come alive. "Ok, well, let’s first start with the Bowen family. What can you tell me about them?"

Lucas looked at Al curiously. "Bowen? I… wait, do you mean Merriam and Daniel Bowen?"

"Yes," Al said enthusiastically that he remembered their names. "Especially their daughter Dawn." 

"Dawn." Lucas said with a frown as his hand came up to his chin. His fingers stroked his chin as he looked thoughtfully at the floor. "Blonde-haired, green eyes – a beautiful little girl."

"That’s her." Al nodded. "Do you remember why you were going to her house?"

"I remember Merriam calling me to come get her to take her to a half way house. With my involvement with the ahm… ah… oh yea, the FVPT, I know of some homes close to my house. She was going to take Dawn with her. Merriam told me that she and her husband were fighting a lot. I remember asking her if she had any family members to go to, she told me no." Al nodded as he punched at the handlink. The hand link squawked erratically at the imput causing Al to hammer it with his palm on its side. Lucas eyed the contraption in Al’s hand. "What is that thing?"

"Oh, ah…it’s a kind of fancy recorder that we have modified." Lucas’s mouth made an O and he nodded. "Can you tell me anything else?" Al wasn’t sure if this was going to be enough to help the little girl or not.

"That’s all I can remember right now, but if I remember anything, I’ll tell you."

"Thanks. Excuse me, will you?" Al motioned towards the door even as he began to walk away. He frowned. He didn’t like the information that he had just received. How was that going to help that sweet little girl any?

Noticing the frown that Al wore, Lucas said, "Something’s happened. What’s happened?" He popped up from the bed and cut Al off before he made it to the door. "What’s going on?"

Al’s frown deepened as he took a deep breath. He knew he could tell him the past, but as for the present and Dawn that was a totally different story. Al grimaced only to stand up straight, as military protocol seemed to be appropriate. "I regret to inform you that Merriam and David Bowen are dead. From the looks of it, David killed Merriam then shot himself. Dawn is in shock, and a little bruised but alive."

Lucas blinked at the news. He turned away from Al heading back toward the bed. He shook his head as he lowered himself to the floor. "That poor little girl," he breathed. He looked back at Al who had held his breath. "I’ll try to remember anything I can."

Al nodded then excused himself, leaving the Waiting Room. As he exited, he knew there had to be something that could be done. Something, anything. Sam wasn’t likely to pull anything from Dawn in the state that she was in, so how can he save her? "Ziggy?"

"Yes, Admiral Calavicci?" Ziggy chimed her voice precise and sultry all at once.

"What is the percentage of Dawn speaking to Sam about what happened say in the next week if Sam’s there that long?"

"Providing that Dr. Beckett is there a week, the percentage is quite low Admiral – fifteen percent."

"I was afraid of that."
 
 

PART THREE

After taking a short coffee break, Al meandered back to the Control Room. He knew that he had to get in contact with Sam with any information that they had. They didn’t have much more information than they had four hours ago. He sighed as he grabbed the hand link and headed toward the Imaging Chamber. All that they had found out was that Dawn Bowen was in the hospital at the moment with a bad case of pneumonia. 

He went into the tunnel-tornado effect and waited for the image to settle around him. Once it had settled he found himself in a house. "Sam?" 

"In here, Al." 

Al followed the voice finding Sam in a small room to the left where he was tucking Dawn into bed. She was sleeping soundly, her breathing deep and even. Al’s eyes softened at the sight. He lightly smiled at the scene, but he quickly turned away as he felt the tears begin to swell in his eyes. "Come on, Sam. Out here." Al said as he made his way back into the living room.

Sam made his way to the living room and shut the door to the room so that he and Al wouldn’t disturb her. "Okay, Al. You’ve been gone awhile now. What do you have?"

Al cocked his head to the side and looked down at the brown carpet. "Well, Sam, it’s not good." He licked his lips nervously. "Right now, Dawn is in a hospital with pneumonia. According to all the records, she went into two foster homes. The second one that she was in, she stayed there until she was twelve years old. According to police records, when questioned about her run-away, she told them that she was being ignored and went unnoticed most of the time. She believed that she could do better on her own – so she left. She ran away several times, always to be taken back to the home. When she was fifteen, she became a prostitute. She’s been in and out of jail, at least 15 times, since she was thirteen. It was when she was 17 that she found out that she had full blown AIDS. It’s a shame, Sam. It really is a shame, a beautiful girl like that."

Sam listened to Al, his head dropping at the news, only to raise it up to talk to Al. "How can I change things here, Al? I mean, there’s nothing that I can really do. She hasn’t talked to me since I got here, and I don’t think that she’s going to be ready to talk for awhile."

"I agree there, Sam. She’s been through so much. It’s no wonder that her life turned out this way."

Sam went to the nearby couch and sat down. He was tired and the yawn proved it as he stretched out his legs before him. "How long does she stay here, Al? I mean, with Lucas."
      "About a week, Sam. The FVPT wanted her to be around other children who she could relate with -- you know, those that have lost their parents and don't have anywhere else to go."

Sam shook his head. "I don’t know what else to do here, Al. I don’t."

"I know, Sam. I know."

March 14, 2001

"I know that you have had a hard time, Albert, but you have to realize that you need to be calm here. You just can’t keep running off and doing whatever you want to. Do you understand me?" The nun in the long black tunic wagged her finger at him. "This fancy of running off and joining who knows what and doing evil things…. I know that you know better. Don’t you know that you could be helping others instead of worrying those who are in charge of you? We care for you. Do you understand that son?" 

He had lowered his head to the crisp enunciated words that were being said to him. "I understand, Sister Mary."

"I certainly hope that you do. Your father wouldn’t have wanted you to act this way. You need to go to the monsignor and repent. Now."

Al quickly sat up in bed, his body soaked. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. His dreams of Sister Mary reminded him of his time in the orphanage. No child should be this way. There were good homes around, and good families to take care of those kids who needed their help. Why weren’t they helping?

He looked over at his sleeping wife and tried his best not to wake her as he slipped out of bed. He went into the bathroom and splashed water in his face. Looking up at his reflection in the mirror, he knew what he had to do. 

He quickly went to his closet and opened it up, searching for clothes to wear. He pulled out a somber looking pair of black pants and a dark purple and blue shirt. He dressed quickly. 

Before he knew it, he found himself outside of the complex, his stride long as he went to his car. Once in the car, he placed his hands on the wheel for only a moment before he turned the ignition and began away from the complex.

"Admiral Calavicci, where are you going?" Ziggy’s sleek voice asked as the car began to zoom down the road.

"Going to take care of someone. Ziggy, give me the fastest route to Austin, Texas." 

Al rolled into the parking lot of Lyndon B. Johnson Memorial Hospital, and took a deep breath. He wasn’t exactly sure what he would find when he stepped into her room, but he knew that he had to do something. What? That was the question of the day.

He walked into the hospital and went up to the information desk. He already knew the room number from Ziggy, but he knew he had to follow the rules of the hospital, just like any other person. "Ma’am, could you please tell me what room Dawn Bowen is in, please?"

The older woman looked at Al up and down before she said, "Are you a family member?"

Al bowed his head only to raise it up to her once more. The thought to lie was adamant in his mind, however, he quickly changed his mind. "No ma’am. I am not a family member. Just a concerned friend." 

The woman narrowed her blue eyes at him and pursed her lips at him. She glanced at the watch on her wrist. "I really shouldn’t send anyone up there now, but you still have about ten minutes before visiting hours end. She is in ICU, room 123. Take the elevator to the third floor and head right. You can’t miss it."

Al nodded to the woman thankfully and headed in the directions that she gave him. He stepped into the elevator and squared his shoulders preparing himself for what lay ahead. He waited only a moment before the elevator came to a halt. As he exited, another young couple began their way in. "She looks so bad, Doug. I … I hate to see Dawn this way. Oh, God, please be lenient and bring her some peace and comfort to get her through this ordeal."

Although Al had to some extent blown off all of his religious beliefs, he quietly said, "Amen." He was in total agreement there. If it was bad enough, then peace is exactly what she wanted. He slowly walked through the long corridor to the ICU and looked in the door that Dawn was in. Taking a deep breath he walked in.

The room smelled of alcohol. The constant beep of the electrocardiograph along with the whoosh of the air compressor giving oxygen to Dawn filled the room. The wires to the machines as well as the two IV’s going in her body made her look very small and breakable. Her coloring was pale except for the dark circles that surrounded her eyes.

Al rubbed his hand over his face and went to the chair that was by her bed. The chair squeaked as he sat down causing her to open her eyes and turn her head slightly to look at him. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she looked at him confused. "Do I… know you?" The question took longer than it should have, the words enunciated by pauses and heavy labored breathing.

Al could hear the phlegm in her system causing her to have so much trouble. He licked his lips as he began. "I’m a friend of Lucas Winters. I don’t know if you remember him, but…"

Dawn’s eyes brightened. "Lucas? Your Lucas’s friend?" 

"You remember him?" Al was thoroughly surprised that she remembered the man who had come into the house and found her. 

Dawn smiled. "I remember him." Dawn’s smile faded as her body became wracked by coughs. It took a moment for them to calm down. "I’m sorry."

"Don’t apologize, Dawn. It’s okay." Al lightly put his hand on hers. "I want you to tell me something, Dawn. And I need a serious answer here, ok?" Al watched as Dawn nodded at his words. "If there was anything that you could have done differently in your childhood … and mean when you were young, very young, what would you like to change?"

Dawn turned her face away from him, her eyes looking up to the ceiling as her eyes began to well with tears. Taking a deep breath, she roughly got out, "So many things… but if I could turn back time… I would… want Lucas as my Foster Dad. They took me away and… I wanted to stay."

The door of the room opened to reveal a nurse coming in with a tray of medicine. She looked to Al, her voice stern, but her look soft. "I’m sorry, sir, but you’ll have to leave now. Ms. Bowen needs her rest, and she won’t get that talking to you."

A single tear slid down his cheek as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. Looking down into her face, he said, "Maybe she just did."
 
 

PART FOUR

March 16, 2001

Stallions Gate, New Mexico

Having stepped back into the Project, Al asked the air, "Has Sam leaped yet?" 

"No, Admiral. He has not." Ziggy’s voice chimed. "Nice to see you back, Admiral Calavicci."

"Thank you, Ziggy. Please get the Imaging Chamber online. I’ll be there in a few minutes." Al said as he entered the elevator to take him deeper into the project.

"Yes, Admiral."

Al’s footprints echoed in the corridor as he hurried down to the Control Room. Knowing now that Dawn wanted to be with Lucas saved a lot of things in her life. She wouldn’t have to run away, she wouldn’t have to be ignored or felt deprived. She wouldn’t have to be a prostitute and end up having AIDS. He would do anything that he possibly could to save her.

Picking up the hand link at the station, he headed toward the Imaging Chamber and opened the door. As soon as the door opened, he found himself in a meeting.

Sam was sitting at the dining table with three other people at the table. Papers were spread out around to everyone, and Sam looked as lost a cute little puppy dog in Central Park – dead meat. He was cradling his head in the palm of his hand, his eyes focused on the papers in front of him.

"So, you see, Mr. Winters, that Dawn would be better off if she would be placed in a home where other children in her circumstances could relate. I’m sure that you see the importance of her relating to others around her." An older woman stated with a lilt in her eyebrow as she looked over her bifocals at him. It was obvious that she was doing her level best to talk to him as if he was a moron.

"I see your point, there, Mrs. Henkins." Sam nodded.

"No, Sam!" Al said drastically as he shook his head. "No. Dawn wants to stay here with you… I mean, Lucas." He pulled up the hand link and hit the buttons quickly pulling up the information. "If she goes to that other house, she'll get worse. There are too many kids in that facility, I promise you that."

"Just for argument sake here, Mrs. Henkins, how many kids are at this particular home… ahm… the Kenmarks?"

Mrs. Henkins leaned back in her seat. "Well, I believe that there are ten children there at present. I really don’t see your point, Mr. Winters."

"And, uhm, how many beds are there? Ten?"

Mrs. Henkins closed her eyes as she took in a deep breath only to let it out exasperatedly. "If you must know, there are eight beds."

"Then why on earth do you want more kids there when there aren’t enough beds to hold them all?" Sam asked forcefully. "Don’t you see that with that many kids that there is an opportunity for children to fall in between the cracks?"

"Mr. Winters, what are you suggesting here? Are you suggesting that we don’t take good care of the kids in our facilities?" Another elderly woman sitting to his right perked up.

"No ma’am. I’m not saying that at all. I’m just saying that with the ratio going on there, that there is a more than fifty percent chance that someone is going to drop in a hole. I have had my foster care here for…"

"Four years." Al supplied seeing where Sam was going with this.

"Four years. I have been an excellent foster home. I haven’t had any problems in those four years. Now, I suggest that Dawn stay here with me in my care, where I can bring her out of herself, and keep her were she can have a chance here."

The third person at the table remained quiet as she placed her head into her palm and steadied her gaze on Sam. She pursed her lips and took in a deep breath – finally saying, "I think that is a very good consideration. Mr. Winters is more than capable, and he had worked with the girl's mother."

"Well, I don’t know." Mrs. Henkins remarked hotly. She didn’t like the fact that this man had outwitted her when it came to her job. 

The door in the hallway opened and a little face peered out from the door. She looked at the ladies sitting at the table and frowned. She then slowly moved away from her room and headed toward the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, she opened up the refrigerator door and pulled out a Coke. She held it up and looked at Sam. 

Sam nodded and smiled at her. Without saying a word, he motioned her to come over to him. Cautiously she walked over to him and stood beside him as he put his arm around her back. "Tell us by nodding your head, sweetheart. What is it that you want? Would you want to go to another foster care or stay here with me?" Sam repeated the information in two questions.

"Would you want to go to another foster care?" Dawn quickly shook her head negatively and emphatically. "Would you rather stay here, with me?" Dawn looked at Sam and smiled at him only to climb into his lap and hug him close. She laid her head against his shoulder and answered, "Stay."

The ladies sitting at the table looked at each other knowingly. They knew that they in good conscious couldn't take this child away from someone that wanted her, and someone that could take care of her. 

Al stood back watching the scene and smiled to himself. This was what he really wanted to see. The little girl safe in someone’s arms who would really take care of her. That in itself was enough to make his heart warm and make it beat even stronger.

"Then, this meeting is adjourned." Mrs. Henkins said briefly. They packed up their belongings and stacked up the paperwork neatly in front of Sam. "We will need to get this information about Dawn as soon as possible."

"Yes ma’am. I’ll get to it immediately so that I can have it back to you on Monday."

"That’ll be fine." Mrs. Henkins smiled at Sam. "Good luck, Mr. Winters. We wish you and her the best."

Sam nodded to her and stood, placing Dawn on the floor as the women stood. 

"Come on ladies, let’s go out to eat." Slowly they filed out of the house leaving the three of them alone once more. 

Dawn looked up at Sam and pointed down the hallway back to her bedroom, then headed back. 

Al pulled up the hand link as it squawked at him. "Sam, you changed history, yet again. Dawn doesn’t runaway. She doesn’t get involved with prostitution or with any gang-related activities as before. She is an A student in high school and is about to go to Texas A&M to go to school to get her degree. You did it Sam. She’s saved. So… get ready to leap there, Sammy-boy." Al looked down at the hand link and started the punch in the sequence of buttons to exit the Imaging Chamber.

"I really wish you wouldn't call me that, Al. I'm not a kid anymore."

"True… true... but lets not argue that... just get ready to leap." 

"Ah, Al?" Sam questioned hesitantly as he frowned causing his eyebrow to wrinkle quizzically.

"What?" Al turned to Sam and looked up at him.

"I don't feel it." 

"What?" Al asked again raising an eyebrow warily at his friend. "What do you mean you don't feel it."

"I usually feel it coming on. You know... the next leap." Sam twirled his hands around each other as he talked. "But I don't feel it. You know... the little tingle.... It’s not coming. What's going on, Al?"

"I don't know, Sam. I don't know."
 
 

EPILOGUE

 January 1, 1979

Somewhere near the British Isle

If one had been walking down the corridor, the sealed doors that were on either side of the wall would not have hinted what was inside the doors, except for the small numbers at the top of the door. It was in one of the doors that screams could be heard. Screams of release - screams of pain, torture and pure hatred.

The sounds echoed down the hallway letting passerby's know that there was some existence of pain in the project.

"Get this thing out of me - do you comprehend that you ignoramus! I can't push anymore and if you think you're going to tell me to push again, you ass, I'll make sure that you have a boot print on your forehead before you leave!" Her panted words turned into a groan then into a long agonizing drawn-out moan as another contraction heightened inside her abdomen.

The doctor stopped to grab her hair and yanked her head back sharply to get her attention, as if the labor pains she had weren't enough to do so. "Listen to me. You either push or you can keep that child in your womb. Your choice. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" His voice told her that he would do exactly as he threatened. "Now, push hard," he ordered firmly.

The woman narrowed her eyes at him. Bearing down and pushing, she said through her teeth, "I'll get you back for this, you pompous ass." However, knowing that her body couldn't take much more of the torture that it was enduring, she pushed with everything that she had, yelling out as she did so. "I NEVER want to see this thing - EVER!"

The doctor eased the child from the woman's womb, ordering her to push one last time to get the shoulders out. The moment the child was free, he wrapped it and carefully and methodically removed it from the umbilical cord. "Do you want to know whether it's a boy or a girl?" He asked bluntly.

Lying back on the bed, drenched in her own sweat, she curled her lip at the man standing between her legs. She rolled her eyes at him and turned her head to the side. "I don't give a damn what it is as long as it's not near me."

The doctor raised an eyebrow at her words, not really surprised by them. "As you wish," he replied, handing the child over to the closest nurse. He turned and looked at another nurse. "Tend to her," he ordered bluntly before following the nurse that had the crying child in her hands.