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Sam wasn’t quite sure where or when he was. A shitty motel, like the one he crashed at with Bunny, he guesses by the rock hard mattress and the putrid smell of smoke, the rock hard mattress and putrid smell of smoke being the only thing that manages to ground him as he shivers and stares. He shivers and stares and thinks until the corners of his eyes catch a flash of light, and Al appears in some god awful, loud and tacky printed Hawaiian shirt. The colors and joy conveyed with his attire don’t seem to translate to his face, his expression being one similar to Sam’s. His expression being one of sorrow and fading fear.
“You did it, Sam.” Al manages, his voice nearly breaking. “Good- good job.” Wonderful job, beautiful job, as beautiful as you, is what goes unsaid.
“Al.” Sam breathes out in response, like it was a prayer, like his name was the only lifeline he had. “I… I did it.” Al gently nods in confirmation, his eyes not leaving Sam’s hunched over and dejected form.
It wasn’t often when the two of them were blessed with quiet, much less quiet times alone. Sam’s journey and mission didn’t seem to allow for quiet, changing the trajectory of history didn’t seem to allow for quiet. Change history, leap, find out his duty in the new leap, change history, leap. Leap, leap, leap, but never home.
“What do I have to do now?” Sam straightens up, shoving down the very fresh memories of the last leap. He had a job to do, damn it, he can’t waste another second.
“Just…” Al’s breath gets caught in his throat, and he swallows before he speaks again. “Just rest for now, okay? I’ll tell you soon.”
Sam has a hard time accepting that answer, but under Al’s gaze he relaxes onto the hard ass mattress. He closes his eyes, before opening them again, and Al is still there.
“Promise?” Sam turns his head, getting a better view of Al and his tacky Hawaiian shirt. “You’ll tell me.”
“Promise.”
Sam tries to settle down again. He closes his eyes, breathes in, catching a whiff of the putrid smoke smell as he does so, breathes out, yet his mind doesn’t rest. He changed the world, the course of history, the lives of many people, and yet he is not at rest. The painful and fresh memories of the last leap replay in his head like a broken record, accompanied by the thought of home.
Where is home? Sam isn’t sure.
“Al?”
“Sam?”
“I wish I was home.” He confesses, his mouth going dry as he stammers out the words. His body shakes, almost as if the confession shocked and betrayed his own self.
“I know.” Al murmurs, and god he wishes there was more he could do. “I wish you were home, too.” With me, that again goes unsaid.
“Al?”
“Sam?”
“I wish I could touch you.”
“I…” Al breathes out, his eyes roaming over Sam as silence washes over them. “I wish you could touch me, too.”
Maybe next leap, Sam thinks, will be the leap home.