Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The familiar crackle of blue light… then Sam Leaped.

Those days, over two years after leaving that bar in Cokesburg, he was never sure if he had Leaped into someone else’s body or as himself. As he nearly fell forward onto the green grass, wet with the spring rains, he caught himself and looked down. Good thing he hadn’t tripped, since he was in a black suit and tie over a white shirt with shiny black shoes.

Sam strained to think back to the briefing he had gotten, in that nothing space between Leaps. Al saw him less and less those days, so that mysterious briefing was often all he had to go on. All Sam remembered was being told that he would be attending a funeral in Section 60, whatever that meant.

As Sam walked forward, he caught sight of a huge white house, built like a Greek temple with six columns out front. He stopped to check a display nearby. It was holographic which told him that this was some time in the future, but he didn’t know how far.

The holographic display, blinking in its struggle with the surrounding spring drizzles of Northern Virginia, told Sam that this was the Lee Mansion, once belonging to Robert E. Lee before he left and soldiers from the Union took over the property, burying the first casualties of the Civil War in Lee’s backyard.

Sam looked around the area now, really looked. “Oh boy. I’m in Arlington National Cemetery.” Al had dragged him here a few times, years before, on one of their fund-schmoozing trips to DC. Sam remembered Al going to the section of the cemetery reserved for Vietnam veterans and spending an afternoon with some of his old Navy buddies.

He straightened his tie, and started walking. Soon, he saw a horse-drawn hearse plodding down one of the roads going through the cemetery. Sam picked up the pace alongside the driver and called out, “Excuse me, I’m supposed to be at a funeral today in Section 60. Are you going there?”

The driver called down, “Yes, this is the procession for Admiral Calavicci, who is being buried in Section 60. If you will please, go behind and follow with the rest.”

Had he really Leaped that far forward...? Sam was sure he had misheard, somehow. “Excuse me? Did you say Calavicci?”

“Yes. Now, please, join the procession.”

Sam numbly trailed back and joined the procession of people, which included naval officers and four vaguely familiar women dressed in black with their families. His plain black civilian suit stood out among all the decorated naval uniforms, but nobody paid him any mind. They continued the march down to Section 60 from the Lee mansion in the spring drizzle.

The hearse arrived, and a group of sailors picked up the casket and carried it over to the hole in the ground. As the group of naval officers shuffled around the grave and the families talked among themselves, the cannons were set up. Looking at the families, Sam finally recognized the four women that had looked vaguely familiar to him in the procession: they were Al’s daughters. They had probably set up the funeral.

Sam stood there, watching the ceremony with his hands folded behind him. What was he doing here? He wondered. It didn’t seem like he wasn’t here to right a wrong. Did this mean that he no longer would see Al while Leaping?

The soldiers in charge, stone-faced Marines in dress blues, fired the cannons. Sam counted as they fired. Thirteen blasts. That would be fitting of Al’s two-star rank, wouldn’t it?

As the military band launched into “Taps,” Sam studied the families. He had memories of them from this timeline, but he didn’t actually know them too well. Ruth, Sharon and Maxine were all here with their families, but Polly was still alone.

The band wound down with their melancholy tune and quietly departed. After a time, so did the naval officers and Al’s family, as Sam was studying Al’s headstone. It had a cross above the inscription, which read:

“Oh Al,” Sam said to the headstone. “I’m sorry…” He trailed off. It had been thirty years since their project had started, hadn’t it? Surely it had been shut down long ago and Al had moved on with his life. The headstone stood next to a few other headstones, ones that Sam recognized as having belonged to buddies of Al’s, buddies who had died when a plane crashed into the Pentagon, over twenty years before. That had been a terrible day with terrible consequences, but it was untouchable.

“Excuse me,” a voice said from besides him. The voice belonged to Polly, a petite dark-haired young woman. “John, is that you? I hoped you and your mother would come today… But no, that can’t be, you look too old. But Uncle Sam is dead, so you can’t be him either…”

Dead? Sam had Leaped into the future before, but he hadn’t heard anything about his own death. His throat nearly closed before he regained his composure and mussed his bangs in an attempt to hide the white streak in his hair. “Uncle Sam? I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m related to you… Al was an old friend of mine.”

“Oh! Then you know about Dad’s friend, Sam Beckett, the physicist, right?”

“Um, yeah. I’ve been told I look like this Beckett a lot. It’s a shame he’s gone, isn’t it?”

“Dad always thought Uncle Sam was alive and out there somewhere. My apologies. My name is Polly. I don’t know how much he talked about me compared to his other daughters, but I’m Al’s youngest.” Sam thought he could see tears standing in her eyes. She quickly wiped at her eyes. “Anyway, what brings you here?”

“I’m Thomas,” Sam said, thinking of his brother. “Someone tipped me off that his funeral was today.” His eyes were still fixed on the headstone. “I lost contact with him a while ago. Did you arrange all of this?”

“I did. Dad said he wanted his remains at sea, but he was always too scared to write his will. When we discussed it, my sisters thought we should bury him in New Mexico. But I thought he deserved full military honors, after all that he’s been through, and it will give us a place to visit. And he’s closer to the Atlantic than the Pacific, so he’ll be more at rest here. We’re also planning on bringing Mom here at some point too...”

“Thank you.” Sam reached out to grasp her hands. “Truly… thank you for setting this up. He does deserve it.”

Polly fidgeted, then she looked up. “Do you want to grab some lunch, reminiscence about Dad? I know a great deli, somewhere that my dad loved, but it’s in northeast DC.”