Disclaimer: Quantum Leap and all related characters are owned by Bellasarius Productions and Universal. No profit has been made off of the writing or distribution of this piece of fiction.

What Doesn't Kill Us…

Washington, DC was experiencing a spell of cold and wet weather. It may have been the beginning of March but winter still had its hold on the city. Since they'd arrived in DC two nights ago, a steady rain had been covering the city. At times it was a hard downpour and other times, like now, it was just a slow and steady mist. Looking around where they were standing, Al thought the weather fit in quite nicely.

He and Sam had arrived in Washington two nights ago to meet with the full Congressional committee that oversaw the Project. In just the past couple of months since the committee was last out at the Project things had grown by leaps and bounds and Al had come to Washington with Sam to beg for even more money. They'd met with the Committee yesterday morning and had been able to secure the additional funding that they needed. Originally, they'd been scheduled to depart yesterday evening but Sam had talked Al into delaying their departure by a day.

If Al had his way, at this moment he'd be nice and warm and dry in the hotel – preferably with a little female companionship. Sam, though, had talked Al into accompanying him on an early-morning walk to the National Mall. Every other time they'd been to DC, Sam had always made the trip by himself. Al was flattered that Sam felt secure enough to invite him along this time and didn't turn down the invitation – even if any other sane person would have considering the weather.

Their walk ended where he knew it would – The Vietnam Veteran's Memorial. Al had visited the Wall many times himself previously and had even attended the dedication of it. On far too many of its black marble panels he was able to find the names of men he knew and had counted as friends. Sam, though, was interested in only one name on one panel.

They walked down to the memorial in silence and when Sam reached the panel etched with the names of those killed on April 8, 1970 he stopped and knelt down in front of it. He reached out and his finger traced over a name that he was now on eye level with – Thomas Beckett. With his head bowed he kept running his fingers back and forth over the name as if trying to commit the very feel of the engraved letters in his memory.

Al silently stood watching Sam until he finally murmured something – Al wasn't sure if it was "I'm sorry" or "I miss you" before he rose to his feet and turned to face Al. He silently nodded his thanks to Al before turning and walking out of the Memorial.

Neither of them said anything until they'd left the Wall behind them and were walking in the direction of the Washington Monument. "Thanks for coming with me, Al," Sam finally said.

"Anytime, Kid." Al looked up to the sky which had, if possible, grown grayer and pulled the collar of his coat tighter as the wind picked up and the rain came down heavier. "Maybe we should head out of this weather now, head on back to the hotel."

Sam also pulled his coat tighter around his body and looked thoughtfully up at the monument in front of him before turning to answer Al. "You go on ahead. I think I just want to walk for a while. Take some time to think."

"What, you can't think in a nice warm, dry place?" Al chuckled. "C'mon, you should head back to the hotel with me. This cold and wet isn't good to be out in unless you're trying for another case of bronchitis and please, don't do me any favors 'cause you were no treat the last time."

Sam smiled sheepishly at the reminder of the illness he'd suffered through just a couple of months ago. It was during his illness that he'd first confided in Al the nature of his brother's death and that was why he'd asked Al to accompany him today. "Don't worry, Al, I'm not going to get sick just because it's raining out. You don't have to mother me, you know. I do have a one who can do that just fine."

"Yeah, Sam, I know you have a mother to do it. Remember, she's the one who made me promise I'd look out for you since she's not around and there's no way I'm going back on that. Your Mom's one tough lady and I don't want to be tangling with her."

Sam only laughed at the description of his mother. "You just need to get to know her better, Al, then you can work around her."

"Oh yeah, like you do that so well."

"Well," Sam answered with a laugh, "I'm still working on it myself. Seriously, Al, go on ahead. I'll be fine. Trust me."

"Fine, Sam, but when you're hacking up a lung again don't think I'm not going to say 'told you so' 'cause I am. I'm going to see if I can catch a cab and get somewhere warm and dry."

"I'll see you back at the hotel then," Sam replied.

Al turned to head toward Constitution Avenue to look for a cab while Sam started to cross 17th Street heading toward the Washington Monument. Al turned to look back to Sam and saw that the younger man was crossing the street with his head tucked down to keep the rain off of his face and his hands in his pockets. In that position he was unable to see the car that came speeding around the corner headed right at him.

"Sam!" Al yelled out in warning.

Sam had partially turned toward Al when he heard his name yelled. Unfortunately, Al's warning shout didn't come with enough time for Sam to get out of the way of oncoming car.

Al watched sickened as the car struck his friend; his body rolling up the hood of the car and striking the windshield with enough force to shatter it before rolling off to land in the street. The car kept going without any hesitation.