Title: A Leap Through Time
Fandoms: Doctor Who / Quantum Leap
Paring: Prior to ‘Rose’ / After ‘Mirror Image’
Spoilers: Sam’s alone, The Time War
Author's note: I'd like to apologize for getting this out so late. I've been having a time of it lately. I have my first appointment with the Rheumatologist this Friday. Hopefully, I'll get the right medication the first go around.
“They sent you?” Sam’s face was awash with confusion.
“Yeah. It was a long time ago... Back when my hair was curly and my favorite things were jelly babies.”
The Doctor’s face was almost permanently twisted into a frowning scowl. He stabbed at the keyboard rapidly. “Mind you, don’t touch anythin’,” he said as he spun a dial and pulled a lever.
The TARDIS central column began rising and falling. Sam took two steps back with his hands up. He looked at them when they started to faintly glow blue. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
The Doctor began wandering around the console, flipping this and that. “It’s the best I can do. Just don’t touch the controls, and we should be fine.”
“Where are we going?”
“Don’t distract me. I’m trying to counter your being in the TARDIS.”
Things bleeped and warbled as they went through the time stream. Whenever something bleeped a warning, the Doctor would fiddle with something to counter whatever Sam’s presence was disrupting.
As for Sam, he did his best to become as unobtrusive as possible. To him, the Doctor was a blur of motion. Every once in a while, he literally blurred with after images. Those were the times that the Doctor would curse, adjust something else, then come back into focus. It was making him nauseous again.
Other things were blurring as well. Shadow images of other people working the TARDIS controls. It would get worse when the Doctor got out of focus, then subside as he came back. He caught himself counting the shadow shapes. He could make out at least eight distinctly different shapes in addition to the Doctor. Then, all at once, everything went blue.
“Doctor, I can’t see!”
“We’re almos’ there, just hol’ on.”
‘Doctor, what is that?’
‘Hey, I think I see someone.’
‘Master? Unauthorized person in the TARDIS.’
‘Is that a ghost?’ ‘Don’t be silly, Peri.’
‘Get away from it Jamie!’
‘What is tha’ thing?’
‘Oh how interesting, I wonder what you are.’
'Hey kid, the first time's the worst.'
“Sam? Sam, wake up. We’ve arrived.”
The Doctor was kneeling over Sam’s prone form. He didn't like what he saw. Sam was sweating profusely, and trembling all over. He took his pulse and frowned deeper. Sam's heart rate was through the roof.
Sam held on to his stomach. "I... I think I'm going to be sick."
The Doctor held his hand in front of Sam's face. "How many fingers you see?"
Blinking rapidly, Sam said, "Twelve."
The Doctor wasn't prepared for this. He had been too busy with trying to make sure the TARDIS was all right, that he didn't even think of what effect being in it was doing to Sam. "Ok, we need to get you into the infirmary."
Sam groaned as the Doctor helped him sit up. His head was swimming, and he felt like he was going to throw up at any minute. He looked around and tried to focus on the Doctor. It was difficult, since his eyes were slightly crossed.
“Be one with yourself.”
“Tha’s very Zen.”
"I'm not kidding," Sam closed his eyes again, "One of you is bad enough. Three of you is just too much."
"Oh be quiet."
The Doctor stood him up and half carried him into the corridor. Sam kept his eyes closed, trusting that the Doctor wouldn't run him into anything. He began unconsciously rubbing his left eye when it started throbbing, and did his level best not to puke all over the Doctor, especially when he steered him around corners. A fleeting thought of the 'Widowmaker', the horse he rode to win the heart of one Texas 'lady', went through his mind. This was worse than the bucking.
Through the relentless pounding his head was being subjected to, he finally managed to squeak out, “When are we?”
“Back when I found you in 1941.”
“Great. I always wanted to be in a war. Hey, I thought I found you?”
"Isn't someone going to -urp- notice this Police Box?"
"We're not exactly where we're supposed to be."
Sam stopped, halting them both. He kept his eyes closed, though. "Where are we?"
The Doctor's lips pursed, "Uhm... the Sea of Tranquility."
"Don't worry about it." He nudged them forward again. They were just a few feet away from the infirmary. "Armstrong wont be here for another couple of decades, yet."
"-urp- ... Well, that's comforting." It was then when he realized just how much the Doctor reminded him of Al... Minus the womanizing talk of course. While he was feeling bad before, thinking of his old friend brought him down several more notches.
"Here, lie down." The Doctor helped him onto the medi-table.
Sam's stomach rolled again with the motion, and he wasn't able to hold it back any longer. He felt the Doctor turn and aim his head right before he erupted. It wasn't much. All the puking he did before had him pretty spent. However, his stomach tried to get rid of its' contents anyway, even though he was more than empty.
The Doctor was almost frantic. Sam was turning several shades of blue, only it was his skin tone this time. Plus, he was almost to the point of convulsions. He found what he was looking for and jerked Sam's shirt tail out of his trousers. He pressed a device that resembled a sonic screwdriver against Sam's stomach. The hiss of a drug entering him was brief, but it did what was needed. Sam's retching ceased almost immediately.
"What was that?" Sam asked rather breathlessly.
The Doctor had the swing arm of the medi-table over Sam now. The readouts on it were scrolling rapidly. "A mild sedative. I don't want you going into shock." The Doctor didn't like what he saw. The quantum resonance around and through Sam was disrupted badly. It was almost as if someone was playing two notes at the same time that were one half step apart from each other.
"I'm supposed to be helping you," Sam muttered.
"Do me a favor, and save me later. Right now I want you to lie still and do what the doctor tells you to do."
"Sure. No problem."
"I'm going away for a minute, I need to get something."
Sam heard the Doctor's footsteps going away. He opened his eyes, in the hopes of being able to focus, and squinted them shut again. Everything was in triplicate still.
"Dammit, this sucks."
The Doctor entered the room pushing a cart. It had a pyramid shaped device on it the size of a soccer ball. He pushed it right next to the medi-table and switched it on. It started to glow a faint blue, as did Sam.
"Never thought I'd 'ave a use for this thing."
Sam started to feel better rather quickly. He chanced opening his eyes again and was surprised that he only saw one Doctor. "Whoa... What is that?"
The Doctor was monitoring the readings on the arm. "A quantum resonator. I confiscated it from someone on Cestus Three that was trying to do what you did a very long time ago."
"That was before I fell out of favor with my people. I hadn't even had my first regeneration yet." He sighed inwardly in relief. The readouts were stabilizing.
"What'd you do?"
"To 'fall out of favor' I mean."
"I got worried about you lot, and went against orders." He grinned, "Haven't looked back since."
"So, Earth's your pet project?"
"Sort of, yeah." He still wasn't looking at Sam. The telemetry readings had nearly his full attention. He was feeling more and more relieved by the second, as the readings stabilized. It wasn't perfect yet, but it was a damn sight better than it was.
He looked down at him, "Because of people like you. Nowhere in the universe has more creative thought escaped."
Sam half smiled, "Escaped?"
"What else would you call it, when utter brilliance comes from the most hideous of a warlike people?"
Sam thought about that for a minute. "OK, you've got a point." He'd averted plenty of 'warlike natures' in his leaping and understood completely what the Doctor was talking about.
"So, what's the verdict... am I going to live?"
The Doctor blew out a breath. "Yeah." He looked down at him again, "Don't do that again, would you please?"
"Hey now, this was your idea."
"So, can I get up now?"
"Sure, go right ahead."
Sam sat up and fell back on the bed again, wincing. He groaned his dissatisfaction. "You did that on purpose."
The Doctor smirked, "Sort of, yeah. You're going to be here a while. Might as well sleep it off. Don't worry, I wont take us anywhere."
"Oh, thank God." Sam's head fell back onto the cushion. "It feels like I haven't had any sleep...." he yawned, "...in days."
The doctor grinned a bit, and threw a blanket over him. "That's the sedative talking. Good night Sam."
Sam's response was snoring.