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: Downward Spiral
“Oh God… Oh God… Oh God… This hurts! Have to concentrate. I have to concentrate. Think of his face. His face. His face. A little help here, please…” Sam thoughts were rapid and almost incoherent. He could see nothing but blue. White streaks were everywhere. It hurt his eyes, so he tried to keep them shut.
“His people are gone. (I know that feeling.) He’s alone. He’s hurting… Bad. That’s It! His Pain… Focus on his grief.”
“You’re doing good kid.”
“Was that me?”
“There he is!”
The TARDIS bucked and thrashed. It was all the Doctor could do to hang on. He swung the monitor up and turned a dial. Unintelligible readings flashed across its screen, but he knew what they meant.
“I don’t believe it. He’s followin’ me?”
The TARDIS squelched. He beat his fist against the console in frustration. The piston slowed down… and stopped with a thud.
April 15th 1960 – Melbourne, Australia
It was simultaneous. The TARDIS materialized in the alley just as Sam leapt in. He was holding his stomach. It did the Watusi, and he bent over… giving back Sheila’s coffee and Mrs. Feldman’s prize ham that he had before this mess started.
On the monitor, the Doctor was watching him wipe his mouth. “How – did – he – do – it? You can’t control something like tha’. It’s pure chaos.”
Sam was doing his best to breathe slowly when the door to the TARDIS opened. The Doctor looked out at him with a confused look on his face. “How?”
Sam looked up at him from the mess on the pavement. “Your pain calls me,” – breath – “I can’t help it,” – breath – “As of right now,” – breath – “you’re my mission.”
The Doctor’s face went dark. “Burn in hell.”
“Been there,” – breath – “did that.”
“See if you can follow me now, Bucket.” The door slammed shut.
Sam hung his head. “How in the hell did he know that nickname? I hate that name.”
The TARDIS started up again and disappeared. Sam was crouched still, concentrating. He stood up sharply and looked straight up. “He left the planet. How the hell am I …”
The energy enveloped him again. This time, electricity sparked and arced around him as well… and he was gone.
Sam was screaming at the top of his lungs. This was unlike any leap that he’d done before. It felt like he was being shredded alive. “Make it stop! Make it stop! Please God, Almighty, Make It Stop!”
He felt a hand on his shoulder and a voice in his head. “Calm down. Don’t fight it. Ride it. Ride his wake, Sam. Ride his wake.”
“WHO ARE YOU?”
“Open your eyes and see for yourself.”
Sam opened his eyes slowly. He thought that He was finally answering his prayers, but the face that he saw was his own. The lock of grey was all over his head now. His face was old. So old. “Dad?”
The face smiled at him. “Nope.”
“I’m you, Sam, some thirty years in your future. This is the only place I can talk to you. It’s usually brief, but this is a rather long leap.”
“Who’s been leaping me?” he rethought the question and corrected himself, “us?”
“Exactly. The landing’s going to be a bit rough.”
Sam materialized inside an ornate chamber. There were magnificent, golden tapestries on the walls. Plush, multi-coloured carpet covered the entire floor. If he didn’t know any better, it would have made a good stadium for a football game, possibly two. He saw the TARDIS in a corner way off in the distance. There were people everywhere. He looked down and saw that he was standing on the edge of some stairs.
Someone walking down those same stairs couldn’t avoid bumping into him. Sam pitched forward and fell thirty feet. When he hit the floor, the carpet depressed about a foot down, cushioning the impact.
His breath was knocked away, and he couldn’t move. As he lay there gasping, he felt several hands grab him from all over. Four of the wildly dressed people pulled him out of the carpet.
“Are you all right?”
“Sit down. Don’t get up.”
“Someone get some dihydrogen oxide.”
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” a female voice said to him. He was curled up, holding his stomach, and doing his best to get his diaphragm to start working again.
He felt an arm go around his shoulders, and the female voice was in his ear, “Breathe, c’mon now. You can do it. I’m so sorry. You came out of nowhere.”
“Wh… where,” – stuttered breath – “is the,” – breath – “doctor?”
“A physician?” A deep baritone sounded from his left, “I don’t think you need one. The floor is designed to… Oh. Him.”
A square glass of water was put in his hand as he looked up to see the Doctor walking up to him. His face was a mask of confusion and awe. Sam sipped at the water and noticed it’s distinct lack of flavor.
“How did… What did you… How…” the Doctor stuttered. He was dumbfounded. And, for one of the very rare times in his life, he was utterly speechless.
Sam looked at him from under his brow, “I already told you. You’re my mission.”
“Later.” He looked up and behind Sam, “Mr. President, I have to talk to you. It’s about the Daleks.”