Previously On Quantum Leap

Sam has leaped into Nick Harris, the victim of a mob hit, and is seriously wounded. The only way Al can see to save him is to take his friend's place in history, which he does against the wishes of the Project staff. When Observer becomes Leaper with a major Swiss-cheese affliction, Al's daughter Victoria Jayne steps in as his Observer to guide him. To add to Al's confusion, a beautiful and mysterious blonde appears at Nick's door professing love. Who is the beleaguered Leaper going to trust? A 'ghost' with an attitude, or a Marilyn Monroe impersonator? 

Meanwhile, the doctors at the Project fight to save Sam's life and ultimately return Al home.
 
 

PROLOGUE

The quantum phasing vanished slowly in a twinkle, leaving Al feeling a little nauseous, unused to the strange effects that quantum leaping had on a person. As his vision cleared, he noticed a hulk of a man standing directly in front of him, giving him a glare that indicated that if he didn't say just the right thing, he was in for a whooping.

"Well, Corporal? What is it? Waiting for the corn to grow or are you going to answer me!?" the man bellowed at him irritatedly.

‘Corporal?!’ Al thought with a hint of shock. ‘Corporal?! I'm not a corporal! I'm a... I'm...’ He sighed mentally. ‘I'm in deep ca-ca.’

"Corporal, get this trash out of my face," the man ordered as he looked at Al. Another young man came up to Al and put his hand on Al's upper arm.

"Come on, Corporal Jenson. Let’s go." 

With confusion, Al obeyed slowly, sneaking glances over his shoulder at the man who has first assaulted his ears. He could have sworn that he saw Admiral stars on the man's shoulders. ‘Great. Talk about the role-reversal from hell.’
 
 

PART ONE

Before the Corporal took Al completely out of the room, he turned back to the man still standing at attention in the room. "Admiral Weitzman, is there anything else you need, sir?"

"Weitzman?!" The words were out of Al's mouth before he had the chance to stop them. He looked at the man with wide eyes.

The Admiral turned with one single solitary movement and glared at Al. He took several quick steps to meet up with him. "Do you see stars on this uniform, Marine?"

Al took a deep breath, forcing the sarcastic response he had in mind to the bottom of his lungs. "Yes, sir. Sorry... Admiral." ‘Holy shit,’ he thought. ‘Not only a role reversal from hell, but a fascinating twist as well.’

Admiral Weitzman's jaw clenched at the hesitancy in which his underling was having. "No man on the Arizona will forget the rank of a superior officer, especially one that has the audacity to mimic him behind his back when he is giving a speech. Put him in the brig until he can act accordingly. Or until he can remember rank."

Al forced himself not to smile at the Admiral's words. His face didn't need help though when he heard the Admiral's orders.

"Yes, sir." the Corporal said as he took Al by the arm again. "Come on, Corporal. You heard the Admiral."

Al gave a respectful nod to the Corporal, figuring that his best option was to go with the scenario until he could find out what he was there to do. Something about what the Admiral said, whose appearance was reminding Al more and more of the obnoxious Senator, made him shiver. He frowned when the Corporal opened the brig cell and closed it behind him.

The Corporal put his elbows on the bars and leaned toward the inner cell. "Now, will you please tell me, Thomas, why in the hell you want to make a jackass out of yourself and the Admiral as well? Was it worth it?"

"I'm not sure," Al answered after a moment. "Depends on the expression the Admiral had on his face." 

"I was there," the Corporal said with a shake of his head. "Either you’re a mental slug or you have the memory of one. He was as far from laughter as hay in New York. Nonexistent. You need to calm yourself, boy." He shook his head once more.

Al frowned at his expression, just then hearing the obvious Southern accent in his voice. The Corporal had spoken in the same manner as other people he knew when he was on the civil rights marches in the Fifties.

"Knowing the last name and the family traits, the guy probably had it coming to him," he muttered, walking away from the bars and sitting on the lone cot in the cell.

"Coming to him?" he asked incredulously. "You know, Thomas, I always knew that you had a goofball side to you, but saying the Admiral had it coming? You're just plain nuts!" He started to walk away, but stopped only to come back. "I suggest that you think about what you did and try… again… to apologize to the Admiral in hopes that you can redeem yourself before anything happens in the Harbor. God knows we need everyone available if something should happen."

Al huffed, not aware of his words or actions. It was a creepy feeling and he now understood what Sam must have felt when the residual crept in. "Come on, Bill, what could happen? You know all the fighting is on the other side of the world against those Nazis. This is just a damn babysitting job. Somebody had to liven it up. Guess it backfired, huh?"

The Corporal stiffened upon hearing the huff. "Well, I'm sure not the one in the brig. Am I, Thomas?" With that, Bill walked out of the room, leaving Al alone.

Al blinked at his own words, swallowing as he rubbed his hand through his hair. He exhaled before biting his lip. ‘That was just a little too scary for my tastes,’ he thought nervously.

The Imaging Chamber door slowly slid up, revealing a very worried young lady. She had brown hair and familiar puppy dog eyes. She stepped through the doorway and into the cell along with Al, letting the door close behind her as she punched in the code. "Admiral?" she asked softly.

Al turned his head towards the voice and looked at her curiously. He smiled at her gently. "Vicky, I'm your father, remember? You don't have to try to hide it. I remember you quite well." He looked around at the cell he currently occupied. "Though I don't remember brigs being this small."

Victoria Jayne Calavicci smiled at her father and looked around the small encasement. "I know you're my father. I wasn't sure if you'd remember me or not. But, as for your surroundings, Dad; you're on the Arizona, and they had to have smaller brigs in 1941."

Al looked at her with wide eyes. "1941? But I thought..." His voice trailed for a moment. "That's right. This would be within my lifetime, not Sam's." He looked at Vicky with concern. "By the way, how is he?"

Vicky quickly answered, "He's better." She didn't want to get into it with her father. He'd just worry and wouldn't do whatever he needed to do to get him back home. 

Al rubbed his face from forehead to chin slowly. "He's worse, you mean," he said softly, knowing that Vicky could never lie to him very well. "Damn. I need to be there." He shook his head at his inability to do anything for his friend.

Vicky took a step toward her father and knelt before him. She placed her hand on his thigh only for it to go through his leg. Sighing, she gently looked up into his face, finally getting his attention. "Daddy?"

Al looked at his daughter and gave her a weak smile. "I'll be okay, Victoria. I'll be okay." He turned his head, desperate to focus on anything other than his helplessness. "Okay, so it's 1941, my name's Corporal Thomas Jenson," he said the rank with distaste, "and I'm aboard the Ari..."

Vicky stayed where she was and listened to him intently knowing that he was hurting inside. "Dad..." she said softly trying to stop him.

He looked at her with question, suddenly silent.

Knowing that she shouldn't tell him anything, she couldn't help it when her mouth got the better of her. "Sam...." she started hesitantly. "Sam's stable. They lost him twice, but he came back. Mom wouldn't give up. She's been up almost 3 days straight now and won't go to sleep; says she has to be there for Sam. Donna is a zombie. Ziggy is having conniptions every five minutes, but other than that, everything is fine. I think that... I think that Ziggy told me just this morning that Sam finally regained consciousness. He wanted to leap back into you."

Al exhaled in relief of her words, not realizing that he had been holding his breath. He had been afraid for a moment that she was going to tell him that Sam was dead. But, the rest of what she told him was hardly better.

He interrupted her report. "Good. Now, maybe you can force your mother to get some sleep. Same with Donna." He started pacing in the small cell. "You tell her that Admiral Calavicci is given them both a direct order and remind your mother that I still outrank her."

"Yeah, like she'd take me at my word right now. She already barked at me once today. I know that Mom is exhausted, and you know how she gets. She was yelling at me this morning about my hair. My hair!" She sighed. "She won't listen to me, Dad."

Al frowned. "What? Did you want to dye it purple?" He tried to lighten the mood. "Or get a Mohawk?"

Vicky cocked her head to the side. "Do I look like the Mr. T type to you?" She asked placing her hands on her hips.

"Mr. Who?" he questioned with a frown.

"Never mind." Vicky sighed once more and pulled out the handlink. She pushed in the code and got an unpleasant squawk in return. She hung her head in dismay. "Ziggy says that I have to leave now. Says that since I'm not following the rules set forth by the Project that I need to leave the Imaging Chamber."

"What?!" Al exclaimed with the urge to rid out a couple of circuits from Ziggy’s mainframe. "That's ridiculous! I broke the rules right and left and she never locked me out!"

"Well, you are the Project Administrator when Sam's not here, and he's here now... and she says that she has to follow the rules." Another loud squawk came from the handlink. "And that if my little butt isn't out of here in less than two minutes, that she'll have guards come in and get me out."

"Well, what about my rules? No father should be separated from his child for more than two minutes at a time!" He took a step towards Vicky, his words a mere attempt to keep her there for a little longer. "And who the hell else is going to kick my butt back into gear?"

"I don’t know, Dad.... I wish..." Her words were cut short when Al saw her yank at her right arm, then at her left arm. "Take your hands off of me," she muttered under her breath.

Al saw two of his own soldiers, each holding an arm of his daughter. They blinked into existence due to the contact that they had with her. Vicky suddenly jerked free from them, one arm then the other blinking them out of his sight. 

"Dad, I have to go. I'll be back though. Okay? I'll be back."

Al took a deep breath and exhaled quickly. He looked at her firmly. "No, you won't," he said knowingly. He shook his head. "Ziggy's not going to let you."

Hearing his words, she stepped up to his image and suddenly the soldiers popped back into view as they grabbed her arms again. "Dammit, Dad. If I say that I'm going to be back, I'll be back. Count on it." She looked into his eyes with the same fervor that she had at eight years old when she had told him that she wanted to be a psychologist. "Believe me, Dad."

Al looked at her with commanding eyes. "You worry about your mother. That's an order, young lady." 

She heard his words and nodded. "Yes, sir." Straining against the soldiers, she tried to stay where she was.

He took a deep breath. "Don't worry about me. Now, go on," he said in a near whisper. "Go on!" he shouted at her, seeing her stubbornness. "Get the hell out of here! Don't let them drag you out! You walk out of here!" Al ordered.

The soldiers turned their backs to the image in the Chamber, and hooked their arms through Vicky's own. "Dad..." She said softly. "No... I can't go... I..." Even before she heard her father, the soldiers had already begun dragging her out of the room. Once succeeding in doing so, one soldier who still had hold of her arm took the handlink from her and turned back to the Admiral. Looking at his commanding officer, he mouthed, 'I'm sorry,' then saluted as the Imaging Chamber door closed.
 
 

PART TWO

Feeling desperately depressed at the whole situation and the display that played out in front of him, Al slumped onto the cot and slammed his head roughly against the wall, burying his helplessness in the pain that it brought on. He winced sharply at the headache as it grew. He opened his eyes to find that his surroundings seemed a little blurry, as if someone had put gauze over his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he started to lie down, then heard someone yelling.

"JENSON!" The voice came from the brig door.

He took a deep breath, then another, and another. Finally, he raised his eyes again to see who was yelling at him, his vision becoming slightly clearer but the headache as strong as ever.

The door of the cell opened and a young man came into the room. He peered down at Al very worried. "Couldn't you hear me calling, Thomas?" He asked softly asking him in a normal tone.

Al closed his eyes, wincing involuntarily. "Sorry. I guess I'm not feeling too well." ‘More like a steam train just went through your brain, Calavicci.’

The man placed his palm against Al's forehead, but didn't feel any fever. "Come on, let’s get you to the infirmary." He helped Al to sit up, then to stand by wrapping his arm around Al's waist.

"Infirmary," Al repeated, following the actions without thinking.

"Yeah... Infirmary. You're sick, buddy."

Al smiled seductively, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Good. Maybe Beth'll give me some tender loving care." His smile widened a bit before it became a tight grimace, his tensing body nearly causing the young man to fall to the floor with him.

"Beth?" the young man questioned. "Women on a ship?" he said as he groaned at the weight put on him. "Come on, Thomas, you have to help me here... I'm not as strong as you and Bill are." He helped him to stand back up and half-carried, half-walked him to the infirmary.

Once inside, he moved him to the bed. "Doc, he's having them again. He's got the headache again and not hearing anything. He’s delusional now. Says he'll see a woman in here."

Al closed his eyes, blocking out the light with his arm while being very grateful for not having to stay on his feet. 

The doctor came over to his patient, and slowly pulled back at Al's arm that draped over his face. "Look at me," he said softly motioning to the other to turn off the lights.

Al slowly focused his eyes on the doctor, glad that the overhead light was now off. The headache was diminishing now, a blessing which Al greatly appreciated. Still, there was still something wrong. He tried to focus on what that particular oddity was but was finding it difficult. Only after a moment did he realize that he couldn't feel his legs.

The doctor looked into his eyes with one of the little flashlights, which made Al only turn his head away. "What's wrong?" the doctor asked, seeing the frown on his face.

"It's too damn bright," Al said firmly.

The doctor lightly hit Al on his chin. "No. It’s not the lights. What's going on, Thomas? The last time you couldn't get up off the bed for four hours. What's wrong?"

Al shook his head. "I don't know. I mean, Vicky was here and then they took her away. Then this damn headache came and … " He hesitated, biting his bottom lip.

"And?" The doctor probed.

"I can't feel my legs," Al admitted, forcing himself not to let irrational fear to get the better of him. There was an explanation for all of this. Maybe his worn old body couldn't handle the stress anymore.

"Just like last time," the doctor mumbled as he wrote down the explanation on the chart. "All right. Here." He handed Al two pills, both the same size and shape. "Take this." He also handed Al a small glass of water.

Al looked at the pills with a questioning look. "Aspirin? Don't you have some ibuprofen somewhere in this place?"

"Ibuprofen? " The doctor asked as he frowned at his patient. 

"Yeah, you know, like Advil or Motrin or...." Al looked at the doctor for a moment before nodding at his terse expression, putting the pills in his mouth and swallowing them down with the water in the glass.

"Thanks, Corporal Jackson," the doctor said as he turned to the young man. "This is the second time that you've brought this man to the infirmary. What are you, some sort of hero or just an angel?" he asked lightly.

Al looked towards the Corporal and then towards the doctor, trying to focus on the situation. It was becoming easier but Al doubted that it was due to the aspirin he just took. It just seemed like it decided to go away.

Jackson smiled at the doctor. "I suppose you could take your pick, Doc. I was just going on guard duty."

The doctor laid his hand on Jackson's shoulder. "Well, I'm sure that your friend here is awfully grateful to you for your help. I know I would be."

"Yeah," Al said softly. "Thanks, Jack," he said, for lack of a better first name to give the young corporal. He rubbed the bridge of his nose gently.

The Corporal walked back over to Al. "Since when are we on the first name basis?" he asked as he leaned against the bed and added, "And who the hell is Beth?"

"Oh, Beth's my..." Wife, he nearly said before stopping himself, realizing just in time that he had to pretend that he was Thomas. "Poster girl?" he questioned more than stated.

"Poster girl?" a new female voice added. "That's not good, Admiral." This time, a brown-haired, brown-eyed woman stepped out of the Imaging Chamber door. She was older than Vicky and smiled at him. "I'm sure that Mrs. Admiral Calavicci wouldn't be happy with that." 

"So say you," Al muttered lowly, trying not to catch anyone's attention and failing miserably in the effort.

"So say I what?" Jack asked worriedly. "What are you talking about, Thomas?"

Al shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing," he repeated more quietly. "Can I go and get locked up again?"

The dark-haired woman brought up the handlink. "I should say not, Admiral," she said licking her lips. "You have leapt into Thomas Jenson, age 25, single, who currently lives in Hawaii."

"Hawaii," Al supplied at the same time as the new arrival said the word.

"You are on the Arizona and have currently been put in the brig for your outlandish behavior during a ceremony. It appears that Thomas decided that it would be a good laugh to make fun of Admiral Weitzman."

"Don't tell me," Al whispered. "He's the nozzle's father."

The doctor frowned at Al's words, going over to Al with concern. "Definitely suffering from some delusion," he whispered to himself, checking Al's pulse.

She lightly tapped the handlink to keep it running smoothly. "Admiral David Weitzman, Solomon’s father. "You're here…" she stopped and looked up at the ceiling. "Why is he here in 1941 in Pearl Harbor on a ship..." she asked to the ceiling.

"PEARL HARBOR?!" Al sat up quickly at her words, shock on his face as everything suddenly clicked into place. "Oh, no! And I'm on the Arizona! This can't be happening!"

The doctor jumped at his shout before quickly urging Al to lie back down, his hands pushing against his shoulders.

"Alright, now, Admiral... you need to calm down and stop yelling out. The doctor is going to think that you’re nuts and put you in a teeny tiny cell with you wearing a straight jacket. Do what he tells you to do. Lay down. Lay down!"

Al slowly obeyed, his heart racing at the news. "What day is it?" he demanded firmly.

The doctor and Jackson exchanged confused looks, the doctor becoming increasingly worried.

"December 6th, 1941. In less than 24 hours, Pearl Harbor will be ...." She stopped knowing that he already knew.

Al was practically hyperventilating. "I've got to get off this ship. Everyone has to get of the ship!" He started to sit up rapidly again.

"Admiral, lay down!" she said quickly.

The doctor this time was less than gentle, forcing Al onto his back and restraining him on the table. 

"Didn't you hear me before, Admiral?" she said firmly. "LAY DOWN!"

Al breathed rapidly, trying to force himself to calm down. "I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay." He swallowed tightly, the urge to flee still in his muscles but being forced into inaction by sheer will power.

"He's delusional. Get the restraints. Now, Jackson."

The woman threw up her arms. "Great! Just great. You never listened to me before... and now here we go again."

"No," Al said, forcing his voice to be calm. "I'm okay. Honest. I just got a little... anxious."

The doctor looked down at him and exhaled, shaking his head. "No. I'm sorry, son. I'm doing what I think is the right thing to do." 

Jackson brought the restraints over to the bed and helped the doctor strap Al to the bed. Once strapped down, the doctor moved away with Jackson to talk to him silently in the corner.

"Dammit... why didn't you listen to me? I told you to lay down, didn't I?" she asked him as she stood over him.

Al didn't fight them as they put on the restraints, his logical mind telling him that passivity would be more likely to win them over than panic. Still, his Italian temperament found it difficult.

Al bit his lower lip. "I couldn't stop myself."

She threw up her arms and turned in a complete circle. "I'm sure that's what Thomas thinks too when he kills himself tomorrow before the bombing occurs."

Al looked at her with wide eyes. "What?" he whispered in shock.

"According to original history, Thomas Jenson killed himself with a sharp blade just before the bombing occurred. The only reason it was marked was because you're new best friend over there... Jack Jackson… he noticed that you weren't at your post."

"And he survived the attack, I take it. One of the few lucky ones from the Arizona to survive," he supposed. He was beginning to feel more than a little constrained in the restraints. He forced the panic attack down, beads of perspiration forming on his forehead.

"Actually, he died not too long after you did. The person that got Thomas Jenson's papers was Sister MacClowd." 

"Great, a nun," he mumbled.

"Yes... a nun," she remarked. "He was an orphan at the church where she raised him. She's not sure why he decided to take his life. She never pried into anything that he wrote. Said that it would be sacrilegious."

Al closed his eyes, focusing on her voice. "Sounds like a nun," he said plainly. "By the way, who are you?"

She opened her mouth to tell him, but stopped. "I can't tell you that. There are rules that I must follow and I plan on following them." 

"To hell with the damn rules!" he whispered vehemently. "Those damn rules took my daughter away from me!" 

She lowered her eyes from him and slowly looked up to the ceiling. "May I tell him?" she asked politely. Hearing a negative response, she frowned at him. "I can't tell you. I'm sorry."

His breathing began to become more rapid, evidence that another panic attack was making its way to the surface. He started to struggle against the restraints.

"Stop," she said calmly. "Stop it. You have to calm yourself down. Listen to me... if I tell you, they'll take me away too. Do you want that?"

"No, no," he whispered. "I'll sign..." He shook his head. "I mean, I'll try."

She frowned at his words. "Okay... you can call me Julianna. I... are you listening to me, Admiral?" she asked seeing him beginning to struggle yet again.

Al swallowed, his eyes tightly closed. "Let me go," he practically begged.

"Admiral, can you hear me?" she asked again, hoping that he wasn't mentally converting back to when he was in Vietnam. She had heard him talking about those days and it worried her greatly. 

He nodded quickly, almost desperately. "I can hear you. Let me go."

"Okay, listen to my voice, dear. I can't let you go... I can't even touch you." 

He struggled more desperately at her words, fighting to be free.

"Admiral... please... don't," she said softly. "Please...do you want to die earlier? Is that it? Do you want to die before Thomas does?" she asked hoping that he'd stop his movements.

He closed his eyes tightly, turning his head away from her. The only thought in his mind was trying get free of the restraints that held him down, that kept him from freedom. "I can't be here," he whispered. "Please..."

Julianna quickly went around the bed and tried to look into his eyes. "Come on, Al. Look at me. Talk to me."

Before Al could open his eyes, Jack came up to the bed and took the restraints off of Al. "You're coming with me, Thomas. I'm going to take you to your room. The doctor is confining you to your room."

"No!" Julianna said loudly. 

Al nodded at his words, even as Julianna shouted in protest. "Anything you want. Anything you want. Just don't put me in those restraints again." 

Julianna looked down at the handlink that spouted off the outcome of what just happened in the infirmary. She read it aloud so that he could hear the results. "Because he thinks you’re delusional, the doc here just put you in your own bedroom… confining you to four small walls, one small cubicle, one in which you will probably take your life tomorrow before an attack on Pearl Harbor."

Al didn't seem to care what she was telling him, especially after he stood up from the bed. He was beginning to feel much calmer, his breathing regulating to a normal.

Julianna sighed and brushed her hand through her hair. "WHY AREN'T YOU LISTENING TO ME, YOU POMPOUS ASS!" she finally yelled at him.

Al straightened at her words, looking at her with surprise. He forced himself not to answer for fear of being restrained yet again. However, the eye contact was enough to let this woman know that he was listening to her now.

"Because of what just happened here... you end up killing yourself... obviously because you are put in a tiny room that reminds you of Vietnam. And you take your life!" She stomped her foot. "I don't want that to happen... don't you understand that?" She walked ahead of them hoping that she at least gave him something to think about. 

Al’s mind was buzzing with her words, not fully comprehending why he would ever want to take his own life. Yet, he knew it had to be true. Why would she lie to him? He just didn't have any idea how he would keep himself from being put into that small room.

Corporal Jackson again wrapped his arm around Al's waist and helped him to his quarters. They were almost to the quarters when Admiral Weitzman stopped them dead in their tracks.

"What in the HELL is going on here Corporal Jackson? I had this man put in the brig just less than an hour ago and you have him out and about? What's the meaning of this?" he bellowed.

Al saw the man before him and, with wide eyes, nearly exhaled at the sight. Forcing himself into his role, he stood at attention before the Admiral and saluted sharply.

"Doctors orders, sir," Jackson said as he formally saluted as well. "He is to be placed in his quarters for observation. No visitation except for the doctor, sir." 

"Is this so, Corporal Thomas? Or is this another load of bull?"

"No bull, Admiral, sir," Al said briskly. "I was feeling unwell, sir."

The Admiral's eyebrow went up at the brisk words and how they were spoken. "Unwell. How so?"

"I had a headache, sir," Al answered. It felt odd being on the other side of the scrutiny.

"Just a headache? And you think that just a headache is enough to get you out of the brig?" he yelled at him hauntingly. 

"No, Admiral, sir," he answered briskly. 

"Then why the hell are you out of my brig?" 

"It was an extremely bad headache, sir. I was also having trouble seeing, sir. Corporal Jackson rightly believed that the situation required me to be put in the infirmary temporarily, Admiral, sir." He saluted the Admiral yet again, hating what he was about to say but knowing that it would be the clincher. "Permission to return to the brig as per your orders, sir?"

"Well, Corporal...." he started off but stopped, hearing him half way. "Pardon me, Corporal, what did you say?" he asked as he rubbed his ear lightly.

"Sir, you ordered me to be placed in the brig until you ordered me to be released," Al reminded him. "Permission to return as per your orders, Admiral, sir?"

The Admiral scratched his head thoughtfully. He had never heard of anyone asking to be put back in the brig. "Granted." He then continued on down the hallway. "Get that man to the brig, Corporal Jackson." 

Al relaxed his stance the moment the Admiral was out of sight. He didn't bother looking Julianna or Corporal Jackson, just knowing exactly what kind of expression would be on their faces. He took a slow breath, obviously a lot more comfortable with his current destination. He finally looked at Julianna, hoping the beautiful woman had something helpful for him. He was feeling rather tired from everything that had happened and was hoping that this leap would end soon.

Julianna motioned toward the hallway that led to the brig. "Go on, sir. I'm right behind you. We'll talk when we get there."

Corporal Jackson shook his head. "The doc will be pleased with this. Are you nuts, Thomas?" he asked as they started down the hall.

The older man looked at him with a shake of his head. "No. I just... I really don't like small spaces. If I'm going to be confined, I'd rather I had some breathing space."

Corporal Jackson nodded understandingly. "I guess you should have thought about this before getting on this tug, huh?" he said more than asked. 

Al laughed slightly at the comment, rubbing his temples with his fingertips. "I guess so."

"It's coming back, isn't it? Or did you lie to get out of the office?" Jack asked seeing Al's motions. 

Al swallowed tightly. "It's coming back, yeah. Even if it hadn't gone, I probably would have lied. I had to get out of those restraints." He looked at the Corporal firmly. "Promise me you won't let that happen again."

The Corporal swallowed as he looked at his friend up and down. "I can't promise that, Thomas. I ... I want to help you. I don't want to see you hurt." They had made it back to the brig and Corporal Jackson opened the cell door. "I wish that I could promise you that. But I can't."

Al bit his lip before nodding slowly. "I understand." He stepped into the cell, letting the door close behind him.

"I'll be back in a little bit to check on you. Need anything? I mean, other than a new brain?" He smiled lightly.

Al chuckled. "A pretty brunette named Beth, maybe."

The Corporal shook his head. "I'll do what I can, sir." He then walked away his steps echoing down the corridor.

Julianna stepped through the cell bars and stood inside as she read the handlink. "I doubt that he'll be able to bring her back 40 some odd years, sir."

"Yeah, well, it was worth a try," he said jokingly, exhaling slowly. "Julianna, what the hell is wrong with me? I don't get panic attacks; at least I don't remember getting panic attacks. I don't even know what I was panicking about." He put his fingers to his temple again. "Jeeze, my head’s killing me."

Julianna blinked at him, knowing that her half-sister had been taken away for giving him information that he had wanted. So, she decided to play it safe and tell him only what Ziggy told her too. She didn't want to be dragged away like Vicky. 

Julianna brought the handlink up and tapped on it taking a deep breath as the information was spit back at her. "Ziggy says that you're getting the panic attacks from the residual from Thomas, that he is having them in the future as well, but less sporadically. He's not in a small space."

"Lucky dog," Al commented softly..

"As for the headaches, I'm not sure what to tell you there. Perhaps you should calm down and take a nap? Take two and call me in the morning?" She smiled at him lightly trying to make the situation a little brighter.

"Why, are you a doctor?" Al questioned with a raised eyebrow. He lowered his hands from his temples, carefully looking at his surroundings.

"No, sir," Julianna said respectfully. "Just a concerned employee." 

"Okay," he gave her a small smile. "So, now what? How do I keep Thomas from killing himself when I've leaped into him?"

Julianna shrugged as she raised the handlink. "According to Ziggy, you have already saved his life. You stopped him from being in a confined space...his quarters. Here in the brig, he can't do that. He’s under supervision and has a somewhat more open space for him to vent his frustrations." She lowered her hand and looked at the man before her. 

Al stood and started to pace in the cage, glancing towards Julianna. "Okay, then, why am I still here?"

It bothered her that he was so wound up. She wished that she could just bring him home now and have both Sam and him back at the same time.

"I ... I don't know. And I don't think that Ziggy knows either." 

He frowned at her words. "Great. Just great. I'm in the brig of a ship that is going to be sunk in..." He raised his wrist to look at Thomas' watch. "Seven hours when the Japanese attack, my best friend is in the hospital, and you have no idea what I need to do to leap." He shook his head slightly, again looking at his surroundings. 

Julianna's head slowly lowered as she looked to the floor. She closed her eyes to his words and took a shaky breath trying not to let her emotions show. She was terribly worried about her father and she didn't know what she needed to do to get him home. She wanted to tell him exactly who she was and talk to him, but even that was against the rules. She ran her hand over her face before looking back up to him.

Al sighed sadly. "Now that history's changed," he started as he sat back down on the cot, "does Thomas survive the attack?"

Julianna hopefully brought up the handlink and punched in the question. "Yes. Yes, he does. And, according to this he saves about fifteen others along with him. That's good," she said trying to be positive.

Al looked at her with question. "And how does he do that in the brig?"

"Perhaps from good behavior," she supplied. "You're performance back there with Admiral Weitzman...."

"Admiral Father of a Nozzle?" he muttered in a low voice.

Julianna rolled her eyes. "Yes, him. I believe that the Admiral will give you a reprieve. He is due to come back around in about four hours. Perhaps you just need to wait until he comes back. Ziggy gives a 98.5 % chance that once you smooth things over with him, that Thomas will be able to get out of the brig and save those lives."

Al nodded slowly and exhaled, rubbing his hand over his eyes. "All right. I'll try to be a good boy." He lay on his back on the cot. 

"Good." Julianna said softly. "Perhaps you could take a nap while your here. Seems to me that you are due a good one, Al."

Al gave a weak smile. "Wake me before he gets here," he told her, closing his eyes.

"Will do, sir. I'm going back to see if I can get any other information from Ziggy. I'll be back before he comes back. I promise," Julianna said. "And… I'll give you an update on Sam."

"Thanks, Jules," Al whispered unknowingly. "You're a peach."

Jules smiled at his words. "Nighty-night," she softly said as she pulled up the Imaging Chamber door and quietly left her father in the past.
 
 

PART THREE

Project Quantum Leap

Stallion's Gate, New Mexico

Beth came up to her with worried eyes. "How is he? He was really scaring me for a moment, sweetie."

"He was scaring me too, but he's resting now. He has four hours before Admiral Weitzman comes by hopefully to reprieve Thomas."

Beth nodded. "Now, if only I can get the other patient to stay still...." she said in a low voice.

As the words left her lips, Sam stumbled into the Control Room and fell to his knees. He was deathly pale and gasping, but the concentration in his eyes said more than anything else.

The moment he came in, Beth hurried to his side to help him up. "Sam Beckett, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

He looked up at Beth as he stood shakily. "I need to leap back into Al. He needs to be home with you," he said softly, but the dark red stain beginning to appear on his chest through his shirt told another story.

She gave him a gentle smile at the sentiment and immediately noticed the renewed bleeding. "And you need to be in bed." 

Jules walked up and took Sam's body weight from the opposite side of her step-mother. "Come on, Dr. Beckett, you are in no way, shape or form ready to leap into Dad."

"But..." Sam started.

Beth steered him towards the door, leaving Sam no doubt as to her intentions. "No, buts, Sam. Al will knock your block off personally if you don't take care of yourself. You're opening your stitches." The concern on her face showed that she was trying hard not to yell at him.

"A little blood won't hurt," he remarked lightly as they dragged him down the hall, his feet barely touching the floor.

"If it were your finger, maybe that's true." She quickly put him on a gurney that had been brought down from the infirmary only moments before. "Stay down," she ordered firmly as she directed the gurney towards the elevator.

"You know..." Sam remarked as he lay there on the gurney trying to keep his eyes open. "If you treat Al this way, I can understand why he has those tendencies to be such a pompous ass."

"I treat him... and you... this way because you tend to be pompous ass," Beth told him with a glare. 

Jules smiled at the conversation between the two. "Don't forget stubborn," she remarked lightly.

"Yea... stubborn too." Sam said with a grin.

Beth nodded in agreement. "Which means that the next time you decide to go for a walk without my permission, I'll have you strapped down, Doctor. Dammit, Sam, you know better than to go gallivanting around in your condition."

Sam frowned and sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Beth. Won't happen again," he said softly. "Unless Al needs me," he added quickly afterward. He wanted her to know that he meant it too. For emphasis, he tried to sit up only for Jules to push him back down.

Beth frowned slightly and shook her head before leaning over and kissing his cheek. "Worry about yourself right now, Sam. Al will be fine and you won't be helping either you or him if you don't take care of yourself," she told him as the three of them entered the Infirmary. "Now, let's get you on the table and let me look at the damage."

"Yes, ma'am," he simply said. He turned from his side to his back and laid still as Beth began to move the bloodied shirt back away to look at the stitching.

Beth gritted her teeth at the sight. "Jeeze, Sam...." She grabbed a clean cloth and dabbed at the seeping wound. "You must be trying to get yourself killed."

Sam gasped at the touch. Moaning, he said, "I don't think that I've succeeded yet, though." His mouth moved slightly as he gritted his teeth together. "Can you press any harder, ya think?"

"If you really want me to, but I haven't even grazed the skin and I still have to put antiseptic on it and re-bandage it." She looked at him with sympathy. "Sorry, Sam, but you know it's going to hurt like hell." She carefully replaced the now bloody cloth with a clean one, this one well doused with antiseptic. 

"Oh... man..." he yelped at the antiseptic on his wound.

"Pain's good, Sam," she told him gently. "Let's you know you're still alive." She removed the antiseptic and started to wrap his torso with a large bandage.

"Oh... really... well... pain sucks," he said, gasping. "Dammit," he said as he arched his back to allow the wrapping to be passed through. 

She let him vent his frustration, finishing the job before making him stand and get into the bed right beside the gurney. "Yeah, I know it hurts, Sam, and I really am sorry. But you really are the one at fault. I told you to stay in bed."

As soon as Sam's head hit the pillow, he glanced at Beth with apologetic eyes, which then slowly closed as he drifted off to sleep.

"He really is that Boy Scout, isn't he, Mom?" Jules asked softly as she brushed at the gray streak in his hair.

"Too much of one," Beth sighed, smiling at the sleeping man. "Gotta love him for it, though."

Jules smiled at her mom, and lightly kissed Sam on the forehead. "Rest up, Dr. Beckett. You'll need it." 

Jules looked at her watch and gasped. The time had slipped by so fast and she needed to get down there to the Control Room. She ran through the corridors yelling, "Excuse me!" as she passed several technicians in the hallway. Once in the Control Room, she glanced at Gooshie. "Fire it up, please."

Taking the handlink, she headed toward the Imaging Chamber as she tried to control her breathing.

Gooshie nodded in confirmation, obeying the request immediately, and centered her on Al.

"Thank you," she replied before entering the brig.

USS Arizona

Pearl Harbor

"Dad..." she called softly. She immediately realized her blunder. "Al. Admiral Calavicci, wake up, sir. He's almost here."

Al was tossing and turning slightly in his sleep, his eyes opening at her call. He sat up abruptly, rubbing his face.

"That's a little too close to the time, don't you think?" He gave her a wry smile, his eyes looking worn. It was obvious that he didn't sleep well.

She was still trying to control her breathing as she looked at him. "I'm sorry, Admiral. Time got away from me." She swallowed. "But I made it, didn't I?"

Al nodded, standing to stretch his body. "How's Sam?"

"Stubborn," she relayed.

Al laughed at the terse answer. "Typical." His attention was drawn to the main door, revealing Admiral Weitzman and the ship's doctor on the other side.

"Remember... you need to be out of the brig," she said softly.

Al nodded slightly in a manner that only Julianna could see. He stood at attention as the Admiral approached his cell. "Admiral Weitzman, sir."

Admiral Weitzman looked at Al with scrutiny. He swallowed before saying, "At ease." He glanced at the doctor beside him. "Ah... the doctor here told me about what happened earlier, Corporal. Is there a reason for the outburst?"

Al took a breath, not exactly liking the idea of giving the Admiral any kind of fuel to use against him. "I was uncomfortable, sir."

"With what, Corporal?" he asked taking a step toward the cell, looking at him warily.

Al swallowed slightly before exhaling. "Sir, I do not like... confinement."

The Admiral's eyebrow rose with curiosity. "Is that so?" he asked. He cleared his throat. "Excuse me for saying so, Corporal, but you were confined to the brig. But, you asked to go back in. Do you see the problem that I'm seeing, son?"

Al forced himself not to frown at the choice of words. "But at least I can move around. Sir." He took a breath. "I'd like to apologize for my actions earlier."

Admiral Weitzman glanced at the doctor, then back at Al. "For what, son? For when you were in the doc's office or for the prank?"

Al's breathing was slowly becoming more rapid. It was barely noticeable but Al could definitely feel tenseness in his chest. He could have sworn the temperature went up by several degrees in the brig. 

Julianna stood back listening to the conversation. She was watching so intensely that the squawk from the handlink startled her. She looked down to the device, reading the information it was producing. "That can't be right. He's doing just fine, Ziggy." She looked back up at him and noticed the beads of sweat beginning on his forehead.

"For both, sir." He took a deep breath. "I regret causing any and all problems that my actions instigated."

The Admiral slowly nodded. "So, Thomas, are we done acting the clown? Or shall you spend the next couple of days in the brig to find out?"

Al's breathing was now becoming noticeable. "Quite done, sir," he said firmly. 

Julianna stepped up to her father and looked at him worriedly. "Don't answer me. Just nod. Are you okay?"

"Alright, then Corporal. I'll have one of the guards...." He stopped and looked at Al quizzically. "Are you alright, son?" He turned to the doctor and motioned to the desk. "Get the keys for me, will you, Doctor?"

Al nodded in response to both questions. Mentally, however, he was on the verge of screaming for release.

Julianna frowned. "Admiral, you look like you're about to go into another panic attack. Perhaps you should ask if you could sit down. Tell them that you aren't feeling well."

The doctor returned a minute later with the keys in his hand. He handed them to the Admiral, who in turn searched for the correct key to open the cell.

"Corporal Jenson, I'm just curious," the Admiral started. "If you were so phobic of small spaces, why are you on my ship?" 

"I don't know, sir," Al answered honestly, his eyes focused on the keys in the Admiral's hands. ‘Come on. Hurry the hell up. I've got to get out of here!’

"Admiral?" Julianna asked as she stepped in his line of vision. "Talk to me, sir."

"Well, perhaps you need to rethink when we get back to port," Admiral Weitzman said as he found the right key. "Aha. I knew that I'd find it eventually."

Al took a deep breath, trying not to grab at the keys to hurry the process up. It was becoming obvious that he couldn't hear his holographic Observer and that he was trying hard not to show his growing panic.

Admiral Weitzman slowly inserted the key into its proper fit. He turned the key and slowly opened the cell. 

The moment the cell door was open, Al rushed forward, desperate to get to out of the confines of the cell. He breathed erratically, trying to get through the brig's door.

"Doctor Henderson!" Admiral Weitzman ordered loudly.

The doctor quickly grabbed Al's arm to stop him, pulling him back towards himself and the Admiral.

Julianna quickly rushed out of the brig and met up with Al. "Stop... stop it, Al! You have to calm down!"

"NO!" Al screamed, struggling against the doctor. "I've got to get out of here!"

The doctor held tight, even though he knew that his patient was erratic and was breaking down in front of them. "It's a panic attack, Admiral. He was doing everything in his power in that cell to stay in control until you opened the door," he said as he fought against Al.

"AL! Dammit... Stop!!" Julianna said flustered. "Ziggy, he's not listening. He's... Thomas has taken over and Al's not listening. What do I need to do?"

"Let me go!" Al yelled firmly. "I can't be here. I can't!"

"Yes, you can!" the Admiral ordered. He walked up to Al and grabbed hold on Al's free arm. "As far as I'm concerned, Dr. Henderson, perhaps your right. Perhaps he needs to be confined to quarters and in restraints. He's no use to me like this."

"NO!" Julianna yelled at the order.

"NO!" Al screamed in fear. "No, I can't be in that small space! I can't!" He struggled hard against the doctor's hold. "LET ME GO!!"

Dr. Henderson nodded in agreement with the Admiral. "I would prefer the infirmary, Admiral. I can keep a better eye on him there. Besides, I have medicines there that I can use to keep him calm." 

"You mean keep him unconscious!" Julianna said with indignation. She looked at Al firmly. "You've got to calm down now! Your panicking is only going to make Dr. Henderson more determined to confine you! And you don't want that!" 

Dr. Henderson quickly called for assistance to restrain the struggling man. Getting the newly arrived guard to hold one of Al's arms firmly, he held the other arm and guided Al towards the infirmary. Al was trying hard to break free of the men as they came closer and closer to the small infirmary, knowing that the nightmares would return again once he was restrained. 

"Please... you've got to hear me!" Julianna was pleading, forcing herself not to cry at her helplessness to help her father. 

As she made the plea, the loud squawk from the handlink diverted her attention only barely, making her listen to what Ziggy was telling her. "What?!" she exclaimed. "No! He can't! What do you mean, yes, he can?! He's in no..." Her eyes darted between her struggling father and the Imaging Chamber door and then back to her father. She quickly went up in front of him, trying to get his attention. "Don't worry, Admiral. We're going to get you out of this. I promise." With that, she quickly left the Imaging Chamber to find a sensible solution to the problem at hand. 
 
 

PART FOUR

Project Quantum Leap

Stallion's Gate, New Mexico

Sam struggled with the Fermi suit, finally sitting down on the floor to put the darn thing on. He knew that he had to get to Al. He knew that he should be the one there, not Al, God love him. He finally pulled the snug suit past his knees and struggled to a better position to pull the rest of it up.

Beth was trying her hardest to talk some sense into the scientist as he dressed. "Sam, you are in no condition to leap. You're not even healed yet! Al wouldn't want you leaping like this!"

Using the Control Panel to heft himself up, he pulled on the remainder of the Fermi suit and turned to Beth, leaning against the Panel. "And he needs me, Beth. He's saved my ass more than enough times, especially now, but... I'm not going to leave him when he needs me. I can't. And it bothers me that you think that I should." He pushed away from the Panel, taking a shaky step. 

Julianna exited the Imaging Chamber as Sam finished adjusting the suit. "Dad's out of control," she said in a whisper to Beth. 

He turned to see Julianna words. "See? Al out of control is not a good thing." He started toward the Accelerator Chamber, taking a few steps then falling to one knee. Cursing, he hefted himself back up.

"Sam, listen to me," she said, going up to him. "I'm your doctor. I'm worried about you. Yes, I want my husband back and safe but not at the expense of your life. Besides, have you even thought about Donna?"

"I'll go," Julianna put in quickly. "Dad needs help so I'll go."

"No!" Sam said decisively. "You don't know the risks out there, Julianna. And I won't let you." Sam looked back at Beth with sadness in his eyes. "Beth, tell Donna that I love her, and I swear to God that I'll be back."

With that said, he went toward the AC, his steps shaky. The door slid open at his command and he stumbled inside. He crawled to the center of the room and sat down on the shiny disc embedded in the floor.

"That's what you said the last time," Beth said mostly to herself as she let him go, knowing there wasn't anything, short of knocking him unconscious, that she could do to stop him. Deep in her heart, she didn't want to stop him, anyway. She wanted Al home and safe.

"Gooshie!" He hollered from inside the room. "Do it!"

Gooshie hesitated at the command before obeying. "Good luck, Dr. Beckett," he told him as the Accelerator Chamber hummed. The energy punch from the leaping process struck the points in the room as it normally would and sent Dr. Beckett back once again to the past.

Almost immediately, Donna rushed in the room. "Where's Sam!?" she asked frantically, feeling the energy beginning to build in the air. The hairs on the nape of her neck tingled. "You... you didn't let him..." she stuttered in astonishment. 

"We didn't have a choice, Donna," Beth said sadly. 

"Dammit! You did too!" Donna said angrily. "You didn't have to let him go!" Hot tears quickly came to her eyes. "I didn't get a chance to say goodbye," she whispered softly as she placed her hands on the Accelerator Chamber door.

Beth took a breath and placed a hand on her back, shedding tears of sympathy for her. "I'm sorry, Donna." She whispered hoarsely. "He loves you. He promised he'd come home."

Donna lowered her head. Turning slightly so that she could see Beth, she said quietly, "Thank you." She straightened her shoulders, and began to walk out of the Control Room. On her way out, she placed her hand on Julianna and looked at her. "I hope Al's okay." With that said, she left the room.

Julianna bit her lip to keep it from quivering before she turned towards Gooshie. "Where's...." She was interrupted with a yell.

"LET ME GO! GET ME OUT OF HERE!" 

Beth and Julianna rushed to open the Accelerator Chamber door. The door was only partially open when Beth rushed in and hurried to Al's side. "It's okay, honey. It's okay."

Al pushed her away, his vision still focused on the men who had been at his side, pushing him down, fighting him with all their might to strap him into ... into... he couldn't remember, but he wasn't about to let anyone touch him again. "Get away from me," he hissed.

Beth bit her bottom lip, motioning Julianna to keep her distance. She pressed her body to him, hugging him tightly, not letting go even as he tried to pry her off of him. "Darling, it’s Beth. It’s okay. You’re home," she said gently, repeating it over and over again, as she clasped her hands together in an effort to not let go. 

Julianna crouched close by, knowing that there was little she could do but be supportive to her father and step-mother. "Come on, Dad. Don’t give up. I love you." She had never been the kind to say the words but now seemed like the right time and the right place to do so.

Al continued to pull at the person hugging him, not wanting to be held, and not wanting to be put down again. He slowly began to focus on her words, let alone the embrace and slowly, he wrapped his arms around her. 

Beth smiled with relief, leaning in to kiss her husband lovingly. "You're okay, now, sweetheart. No one will hurt you here."

Al turned his head to his wife and his once frightened eyes softened. "Beth?" he asked, confused.

She gently tightened her arms around him, brushing his curls with her fingers as she leaned her head against him. "It's me, flyboy," she told him gently. "I'm no dream."

He looked beyond his wife, and smiled. "Jules?" he asked softly, causing her head to come up at her name. "I love you too, sweetheart," he said softly as he brushed Beth's forehead with his lips.

He leaned his head on his wife's head and closed his eyes for only a moment. "Wait... where's Sam?" he asked as he looked around the room to find that he was in the Accelerator Chamber. "He ... he didn't..." 

"He did," Beth confessed. "He was insistent, despite my arguments."

"Ah... dammit," Al remarked plainly. He stood up quickly before marching out of the Accelerator Chamber. "Get the Imaging Chamber online, Gooshie." On his way by the wild-haired programmer, he picked up the handlink.

Gooshie smiled broadly. "Yes, sir!" He quickly went to work on getting the Imaging Chamber up and running.

"Dad... are you sure that you don't want me to go back for you?" Julianna asked as she came up to him. She wasn't sure if he should be going back to the place that had just caused him so many bad memories.

"Sam needs me right now, sweetie," Al told her gently. "The last thing he needs is to worry about how I am." He wasn't completely aware of his daughter's intentions.

Julianna looked at her father softly and put her hand on his arm. "But, Dad, they just tried to strap you down and keep you there. You don't need to go back into that environment again. It may not be the best thing for you to do." She gently took the handlink from him and looked at it in her palm. It felt so alien to her, but she knew that she'd use it again if the need arose for it.

Al was torn between his loyalty to Sam and his own feelings about the situation. Nonetheless, he took a deep breath. "I can handle it," he said with gentle firmness. But, for some reason he didn't understand completely, he didn't reach for the handlink in his daughter's hand.

Beth went up to his side and touched his shoulder softly. "Let her go in, Al. You need some rest."

"Dad, mind your wife," Julianna said softly knowing that she was doing the right thing. She turned away from him and started toward the Imaging Chamber. Going up the ramp, she looked back at her father and his wife standing near the Control grid. She smiled at them then looked at Gooshie before going in the room once again.

A minute after she had gone inside, Vicky came running back into the Control Room. She paused lightly before starting toward the Imaging Chamber. "DAD!" She rushed up to him and hugged him tightly. "You're home!"

Her rush up to him nearly tackled him, forcing him to regain his balance. He laughed gently. "Yes, sweetie, I home." He looked at her with worried eyes. "But you really worried me when you left like that."

She glared up at the disk overhead. "It's her fault, Dad. I was doing everything that I did a while ago, but she went ballistic. I don't understand either." She turned away from her father and put her hands on her hips. "So, Ziggy, are you going to tell me exactly why you're on you're on the rag?" she asked forcefully.

Al raised his eyebrows at her choice of words and looked at Beth with question. Beth merely smiled and shrugged.

"According to Senator Weitzman, the rules must me followed precisely or the Observer must be removed from the Imaging Chamber," Ziggy announced.

"Weitzman's dead, Ziggy," Al told her firmly.

"His orders before he died were programmed into my database and they are going to be followed, Admiral Calavicci," Ziggy stated more than melodramatically.

"Then we'll just have to delete them. We've never stood on protocol since he first visited the complex and I'm not about to start now," Al stated as he marched towards the Control Console.

Gooshie raised an eyebrow. He wasn't sure what the Admiral was talking about. "Admiral, are you okay? Ever since Dr. Beckett has first leaped, we have followed every bit of protocol that was written by Senator Weitzman." 

Beth nodded at Gooshie's words. "He's right, Al. We followed every bit. Don't you remember? We couldn't give out any information. Victoria gave out information and she had to come out. She knew better, but she did it anyway." 

Al frowned, stopped and looked at his wife for confirmation. 

Victoria shook her head softly. She didn’t understand and everything in her own mind was getting jumbled up. It was as if someone was erasing her own memory and replacing it. "You're right... Mom," she said frowning.

Al lowered his head thoughtfully. "Ziggy, how many times have I broken that rule?"

"Only once, Admiral, when you were giving Dr. Beckett his last name. After a week from the Project, you promised that you wouldn't give out any other information," Ziggy purred.

Al raised his head and looked at Beth. "I don't remember giving that promise. We must've changed history somehow because I remember breaking the rules right and left but never enough for Congress to get down my neck."

"Admiral, ever since Senator Weitzman put himself in charge over the Quantum Leap Project, he forced certain rules that had to be followed. One of those rules being that no one must know too much about their own history." Ziggy stated.

"I know that damn rule, Ziggy," Al said as he began to pace.

"I must warn you, Admiral, that you must leave if you cannot cooperate with the rules set forth at the Project."

Al sighed. "I'll obey the damn rule but it wasn't such a big deal before." He looked at the sphere above the Control Console. "I just want to know when history changed and how."

"History changed from what you remember, Admiral Calavicci, when Admiral Weitzman came home from the Arizona to his family and his son, Solomon. In the original history, Admiral Weitzman died aboard the Arizona. Apparently, you changed history when you had your attack. Admiral Weitzman was rather strict on his son, which led to how the Senator forced his way into the Project when Dr. Beckett and yourself founded it. He was rather adamant about the fact that certain rules must be followed and thus you have changed your own history. Had the leap progressed in a different manner, perhaps the history that you remember would be the same," Ziggy announced as she sighed.

"So, because Thomas and I freaked out on the Arizona, Admiral Father-of-a-pain-in-the-ass survived the attack on Pearl Harbor?" Al questioned with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Yes," Ziggy said bluntly.

"Plus, your daughter Jacqueline is now related to the now Senator. His son, Jeremy is your son-in-law," Ziggy said matter-of-factly.

"Weitzman doesn't have a son," Al pointed out with a frown.

Beth bit at her lip. "Then could you please tell me who is supposed to be coming over for dinner tonight?" she asked Al. 

"Let me guess," Al said, looking at his wife. "Jeremy." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. "Another bit of history changed."

Beth raised an eyebrow and sighed. "I guess so, hon. Jeremy has been nothing but a sweetheart to Jackie. He loves her so much."

Al dropped his hand and gave her a smile. "Then I'm glad that he's nothing like his father was." He turned his attention to Ziggy once again. "So, what does Sam have to do to leap?"

Ziggy was silent for a moment. "He must persuade the doctor that he isn't emotionally and physically unstable as well as change the Admiral's perspective on Thomas Jenson himself. Supposedly one of the reasons why the Admiral was so dead set on rules was because one of his men never actually gave him the courtesy of apologizing. Obviously, Thomas Jenson made quite an impression on the Admiral. He respected Corporal Jenson for his bluntness, his wit and his ability to work well with everyone," Ziggy supplied.

"But he didn't respect the fact that Jenson has a serious fear of enclosed spaces and of confinement," Al pointed out. 

"Actually, Jenson had episodes, but he hid them well. It was the last one when he took his own life," Ziggy reminded him. "You changed history when you had the Admiral take him back to the brig."

Al sighed and looked towards the Imaging Chamber with a bit of longing. He hated being on the outside of things, not helping Sam out with finding the solution. With restless energy, he began to pace, his eyebrows in a furrow of thought.

Beth went to him, stopping him from pacing. "Come on, baby. You need to rest, and this isn't helping you worrying about Sam. Julianna is going to take care of him. I... I want you to lay down for at least an hour, then you can come back and take control like you want to." She grabbed his hand and began to gently pull him toward the corridor leaving the Control Room.

He sighed slowly. "Ziggy, keep me updated," he ordered as he followed his doctor's orders.

"Yes, sir." 
 
 

PART FIVE

USS Arizona

Pearl Harbor

Julianna waited patiently for the Imaging Chamber to come back online and, when the swirling stopped, she gasped to see Sam strapped into the bed. 

She frowned as she stepped toward him. "Dr. Beckett?"

The straps around his wrists were enough to cause a small but silent panic before Sam remembered what he knew had been happening to Al before he leaped. He forced himself to remain calm and to think. That's why he leaped here, wasn't it? To do the job Al couldn't do because of his onslaught of Post-Traumatic Stress?

Sam turned his head to look at the woman before him with a slight frown. "Where's Al?" he asked quietly before quickly checking and verifying that no one was within hearing distance.

"Admiral Calavicci is resting at the moment, sir. He needed time to relax from the stress attack. He'll be all right after some rest. My name is Julianna," she finished.

"Jules," Sam corrected. "I remember you. You're Al's daughter."

Jules smiled at him. "I'm glad that you remembered, sir." She couldn't help the respect that she felt for the man in front of her. He had sacrificed so much coming back here to save her father. She was very grateful and impressed. 

"For goodness sake, Jules," Sam muttered. "What happened to calling me Sam? Corporals call me 'sir' and it drives me up the wall."

"I'm sorry, sir... Sam. You know how Dad wants us to be respectful. I... I want to thank you for what you just did," she said softly as she pocketed the handlink. 

Sam frowned slightly. "What did I just do?" He wasn't sure, but he thought he had been shot. He looked at his chest for verification; there was no indication of any gun wound that he could see. Then again, he couldn't see much strapped to a bed.

"If you can't remember, I can't tell you, si... Sam. Rules." She licked at her lips. 

Sam frowned at her. "It never stopped your father."

"Well, according to Ziggy, Dad changed history." She continued to sum up everything that Ziggy had just told them. "So...after you apologize fully to the Admiral, and make sure that the doc here thinks that you're sane and fit, you can leap."

Sam sighed. "Easier said then done, from what I can remember." He looked at her with question. "Did I leap into your father?"

"Sam... I can't tell you," she said as she winked at him. "I can't give you any information that could jeopardize the leap. I'm sorry." She hoped that he saw the wink. 

"How the hell can verifying something I think is true jeopardize the leap?" he questioned, seeing the wink and hoping that his supposition was correct.

"It's the rules, sir," she said simply. Her head whipped up as she heard Ziggy's voice above her. "What? What are you talking about Ziggy? I didn't use any body language."

She looked at Sam with a frown. "Ziggy is saying that I'm using body language to give you information."

Sam gave her a slight smile. "Well, I don't see any." It felt too familiar. Something about hieroglyphics came to his memory. 

She continued to look up, and began to walk in a small circle, her hands in the air. "No, Ziggy, I didn't. I ..." Suddenly, two young men grabbed Julianna's arms and she looked at Sam as she swallowed. "I guess I must leave, sir." She yanked her arms away from the burly men beside her, making them blink out of Sam's vision.

"But you didn't do anything wrong," Sam said, looking down at his straps and testing them.

"Obviously, Ziggy says that I have. So... I'll take my leave of you now, sir... oh… sorry, Sam. I'll get Dad. Okay? He'll inform you on any other changes." Directing her attention to the men beside her, she said, "Lay your hands on me again, and you'll lose a vital organ that you'll need for your sex drive."

Sam slammed his head against the cot below him, feeling more helpless by the minute. However, he couldn't help but smile at her threat to the guards. ‘Like father, like daughter.’ "Tell your Dad to be very careful with what he does," he said softly.

"Sure will, Sam." She smiled at him and took a step toward him, cocking her head to the side so that he could see her without raising his head. "Thank you, Dr. Beckett. If I could kiss you at the moment, I would." 

Sam's smile widened. "I think Al would have something to say about that." He looked her directly in the eyes. "You're welcome. But I couldn't have done any less."

Jules smiled at his words. "Well..." She started, but one of the guards said something to her and she turned to him. "Like I said, touch me, sir, and I'm going to dislocate something from you. Give me one minute." She turned back to him. "I know that you would do anything for Dad. And I hope you know that this family will do anything for you, Sam. We love you and want you back home." She blew him a kiss and started toward the door, pulling it up with the handlink. "Come back soon, Sam." With that said, the door closed between them.

Sam watched her leave, suddenly feeling lonely. He tested the restraints again, finding them quite firmly in place. With a sigh, he waited for an opportunity to come and release him.

Doctor Henderson came into the room and looked at the now calmer Thomas Jenson. "So, Thomas, how do you feel, now?" he asked warily.

Sam wanted to get a sarcastic remark to the question. How was he suppose to feel, imprisoned on an infirmary bed with restraints? He could understand how Jenson would be having panic attacks under these conditions. He seemed to remember that Al didn't like being confines either - all those years of living in a cage as an MIA. 

Despite his instinct, Sam answered as calmly as possible. "Much better, sir. In fact, I'd like to return to duty as soon as possible."

Dr. Henderson nodded slowly. "I see," was his response. "So, ahm, Thomas, do you want to talk about what caused this little tantrum?"

Sam frowned slightly. "Tantrum?" He looked at the doctor with discerning eyes. "I wouldn't call it a tantrum."

"Then, what would you call it, Thomas?" He raised his eyebrow as he came over and sat down beside him. In his hand, he held a syringe already prepped with a clear liquid.

"An uncontrollable response to certain stimuli, in this case, enclosed spaces," Sam told him firmly, his eye on the syringe.

"Ah... I see," Henderson said as he lightly tapped the syringe with his fingers. "Why haven't you told anyone that you don't like enclosed spaces? Why are you on a ship with tiny rooms if you don't like enclosed spaces? Why are you scared of those tiny, small rooms, Thomas? Why?" he taunted.

Sam looked at him with a frown. "Does it matter that much?"

"I want to know why a Marine, who before had an exceptional career, would fall into this decline. Headaches, numbness, and a fear of enclosed spaces all of a sudden? I want to know."

Sam thought about what the doctor said. "Sounds like maybe TIA mixed with claustrophobia. Maybe even some kind of psychological reaction," he muttered mostly to himself.

"Who's the doctor here, Corporal?" he asked a little perturbed. "I know that you need help, son. That's what I'm here to do." He raised the syringe and shot some of the medicine in the air to clear out the air bubbles.

Sam's eyes widened at his actions. "You can't help Thomas... me... by filling me with drugs. If you want to help, take these restraints off and let me go find a specialist to find out exactly what's wrong."

The doctor wiped Sam's arm with a wet alcohol swab and glanced at him with anger. "I'm the only specialist on board, Corporal."

The door of the infirmary opened, and Jack Jackson opened the door. "So, how's the patient, doc?" he asked casually seeing Thomas quite calm, and the Dr. Henderson almost fuming. "What's going on? What..." he asked as he saw the syringe in the doctor’s hand.

Sam's head turned towards the newcomer, hoping that this person might be able to actually help. "The doctor thinks that I need to be sedated rather than helped."

Corporal Jackson frowned. "Doc, Admiral Weitzman said to use that only if he was acting totally wild. He's calm, sir."

The doctor quickly turned away from Sam with the syringe and threw it in the trashcan, irritated. "I know what I was doing, Corporal. I don't need you're assistance or the interference of the Admiral."

"Thomas, how are you doing, buddy?" Jackson asked, keeping an eye on the doctor.

Sam sighed slightly, leaning his head against the table. "I'd be better if I wasn't restrained."

"Hey, doc, when was the last time he thrashed about? Huh?" Jack asked as he looked at the man who was now pacing to the side of the room.

"About 10 minutes ago, but I'm not trusting him, Corporal. He hammered the three of us who tried to keep him restrained."

Sam closed his eyes, an image of Al struggling against three men in his mind. "Oh, Al," he whispered in an inaudible voice. He took a breath, turning his head towards the doctor to listen to the conversation.

"Well, doc, I'm going to let him out of the restraints. I think that he is going to calm down." He began to loosen the straps on Sam's feet and looked up at Thomas. "Besides, if he is going to act out, he'll do it in here anyway, and I can take him down. I've done it before, and I'll do it again," he said to the doctor.

"Thank you," Sam said as Jackson started on undoing the restraints.

Corporal Jackson finished undoing the straps and helped Sam to sit up. "So, are we calm now, bud?" he asked clapping Sam on the back with his hand.

Sam smiled and nodded. "Much better, thank you. Definitely have to get a better job, though." He grinned widely at the man.

"Doing what?" Jack asked as he grinned. "Watching the those little dainty Hawaiian girls doing their little Hawaiian dances?" he asked as he tried to do an impression of the Hula.

Sam laughed slightly. "Sounds good to me."

Jack laughed at himself. "Okay... so... doc, can he go? Or do you want him to stay longer and just bug ya?" 

The man looked infuriated. "Get the hell out of my office, both of you. I don't care where you go, just get out!" he hollered.

At that moment, the Admiral opened the door to the infirmary. Sam followed Jackson's lead and quickly stood at attention, having to jump down from the bed to do so. He looked at the Admiral with curiosity, his features slightly familiar.

The Imaging Chamber door also opened to reveal Al as he quickly entered the room. "Sam... Sam... make sure that you..." He stopped as he saw the Admiral and that Sam was already standing at attention. "Never mind, you're already doing it," he said admiringly.

Sam glanced at Al but quickly looked back at Admiral, his jaw set, knowing that he wasn't going to talk until he was asked to do so.

Al looked around carefully, now that his concern had been taken care of. He shivered slightly before going to Sam’s side again. "Don't say anything, Sam." 

Admiral Weitzman warily looked around the room, upon entering it. "What is the hollering for, Dr. Henderson? Is there a problem that I need to be aware of, sir?" he asked as he raised an eyebrow to him.

The doctor looked at the Admiral with wide eyes. "No, Admiral, not at all. Corporal Jenson was giving some lip. I was just setting him straight."

Al frowned at the response. "And I thought Weitzman was a nozzle."

Admiral Weitzman frowned as he looked back to Sam. Instead of addressing him, he said, "Is this correct, Corporal Jackson?"

Jackson remained ramrod straight as he answered. "No, sir. Corporal Jenson was quite calm, sir."

Al pushed some buttons on the handlink - or more like punched them in. He was still a little upset about finding out why Ziggy had Julianna pulled from the Imaging Chamber. ‘It was only a damn wink, after all!’

"Calm?" Weitzman asked. "He wasn't giving lip to the doctor?" 

"No, sir," Jackson answered. "Just the opposite, sir. Dr. Henderson seemed to be angry with Corporal Jenson for no apparent reason."

"Sam, this guy Henderson doesn't like people stepping on his toes and you did big time by just being you. In other words, you one-upped him and he doesn't like you now."

"That's a lie," Dr. Henderson stated dramatically. "He just told me to shut the hell up, sir, before you came in." 

"Is that so?" Admiral Weitzman asked as he turned to the doctor, his frown prominent. He turned back to the two men before him. "Corporal Jenson, please tell me what you were doing before I came in."

Al swallowed at the Admiral's words. "Now, Sam... be careful, you want the Admiral on your side. Tell him exactly what happened."

Sam frowned at the doctor's words. His eye grazed over Al, as if saying that he didn’t need to be told that but was still grateful for his presence.

"Corporal..."

"Jackson." Al supplied quickly.

Sam took a breath. "Corporal Jackson came in to see how I was doing, sir. He caught Dr. Henderson before the doctor could give me a sedative, despite my being calm. Corporal Jackson then released my restraints. I was just about to leave when you came in, sir. The doctor was screaming at us to leave immediately."

Al shrugged. "Close enough," he said as he walked over towards Dr. Henderson. He pointed at him with disdain. "This guy gives me the heebie jeebies, Sam." He shivered again, obviously having a problem with his surroundings.

Admiral Weitzman nodded, then turned to the doctor. "Again, Dr. Henderson, is there a problem that I need to be aware of? Is there something wrong with Corporal Jenson? Do I need to be aware of any medical problems with this man?" he asked throwing a thumb Sam's way. "And let me remind, you sir, that I don't care for liars."

Al nodded in response to