The vortex spiraled open and the five unlikely companions tumbled out.  Logan almost fell, but somehow bounced herself right back up onto her feet, skilled at the art of the perfect landing.  She fought back the momentary pain that weakened her every slide since joining the timers, and immediately took in her surroundings - barren, dry, cracked ground, no plant life.  Seeing no imminent danger, she turned to her fellow sliders.

Maggie raised her hand to Logan, wanting a little help getting up.  Logan just looked right past her extended hand.  "You guys notice the strange yellowish tint to the sky?" she asked.  "And the solid cloud cover?"

Maggie sighed, dropping her hand.  She pushed herself up on her own, then helped Rembrandt up.  "Might be the amount of yellow light getting through the atmosphere.  We were on a world once where the sky was a purple color."

Wade was still sitting down, her arms wrapped around her chest as if she were out of breath.  "Anyone else having trouble breathing?" she asked.

Logan looked from Wade to the sky again.  Then she took a deep breath, feeling a slight sting.  Her eyes darted from the ground to the sky again, her mind dashing just as quickly.   Solid clouds, yellowish tint to the sky, dry ground and air, her ears funny from the pressure as if at a very low altitude, and the incredible heat.  "Sulfuric acid."

"What?" questioned Maggie.  "Are you saying this is that greenhouse effect thing?"

Arturo had noted the conditions also.  He wiped some sweat from his brow.  "No, Miss Beckett.  A great many factors must occur for that to happen, and it is incredibly unlikely.  I believe that this Earth simply formed differently, possibly with a slightly different orbit than our own.  I doubt there was ever any life here."

"So what's that mean?" inquired Rembrandt.

Logan rolled her eyes at him.  "Imagine the surface of Venus.  But this obviously isn't nearly as bad because we're still alive."

Listening to them banter over why this world was this way, Wade found herself really not caring.  All she cared about was the fact that her lungs burned.  "Guys, I can't breathe," she said worriedly.

"Nobody take any deep breaths," advised Logan.  "Try to breathe through your nose and relax.  This atmosphere could be fatal after prolonged exposure."  She started playing with the timers.  "And we have six minutes."

Wade laid down on the ground, feeling weak.  Her eyes caught on a few shapes off in the distance.  "You said there was no life here."  She pointed in their direction.  "Then what's that?"

Logan looked at Wade, then her gaze followed the path she was pointing.  "Oh my god."  One of the figures moved.

"We have to help," Maggie said, walking in that direction.  The others were hesitant to follow, but she didn't even look back.  When she got close enough to clearly see what exactly had moved, she spun back around.  "They're sliders!" she shouted, then rushed to them.

Logan and Arturo quickly joined her.  Rembrandt started to head that way, then turned back to Wade.  "Come on, Wade," he called to her.  She tried to get up, and he put his arm around her for support, then they began the walk over to the others.

Maggie looked down at the four people on the ground - herself, Rembrandt, Wade, and Quinn.  She knelt next to Rembrandt who was the closest, then checked for a pulse.  She found none.  "He's dead," she told Logan and Arturo.

Stooping, Logan put her fingers to Wade's neck.  Nothing.  "Her too."  She leaned over Wade and picked up the timer from beside a motionless Quinn.  "Thirteen hours and change."

"This one is alive!" Arturo announced, feeling Maggie's double for a pulse.  Her eyes opened and she looked at him.  Not able to talk or move, the woman just stared up into his face.

Wade quit walking when she and Rembrandt were almost to the others.  She was gasping for air.  "Remmy, I--" she didn't finish and collapsed, losing consciousness.

Rembrandt caught her and picked her up, carrying her the rest of the way.  He laid her down next to the other fallen sliders.  "How long?" he asked Logan.

She checked her readout.  "Three minutes."

Seeing that her double was still alive, Maggie decided to check Quinn.  She found a faint pulse, but he wasn't breathing.  She started to give him mouth-to-mouth.

"We have to take them with us when we slide," Rembrandt said.

Logan disagreed, shaking her head.  "Rembrandt and Wade are already dead.  We can't strain the timers by taking extra people."

"We take Quinn," Maggie said, her voice firm.  Then she continued trying to revive him.

Rembrandt sat next to his Wade, the heat getting to him and his lungs feeling like they were on fire.  He tenderly brushed her hair from her face.  Then he noticed that she was too still.  She'd also quit breathing.  He cursed, then put his lips to hers and blew into her mouth.

Logan watched him.  "About a minute," she informed, then looked at Maggie's double who'd passed out.  "We're dropping like flies."

Rembrandt continued mouth-to-mouth on Wade.  "Come on, don't do this to me," he begged her.  He tried to blow more air into her mouth, although he felt like he wasn't even getting enough for himself.  "Damn it, Wade, start breathing!"

"Okay, here we go," said Logan anxiously.  "Three... two... one..."  She activated the vortex low to the ground, then helped Rembrandt get Wade through it.

Arturo took Maggie's double and they disappeared into it next.  Logan turned to Maggie.  "Come on!"

Maggie was still trying to save Quinn.  Logan thought she was crying.  She shook her head at Logan.

Logan dropped to the ground and checked Quinn for a pulse.  "Maggie, let's go!  He's dead."  Quinn's heart had stopped.

"No!" screamed Maggie, putting her hands on his chest and beginning CPR.  "I won't abandon him again!"

"He's dead!" Logan yelled back, urgently looking from the wormhole to Maggie.  "We have to go.  Now!"  She grabbed Maggie's arm.

Jerking away, Maggie put her mouth to Quinn's once more.  "I can't let him die again!" she sobbed.

Finding no other option, Logan got a grip on Quinn's arm and tried to lift him.  With Maggie's help, they all entered the vortex right as it swirled shut.

-----

Upon landing, Logan collapsed.  She looked beside her for Maggie.  She was still on the ground, having lost consciousness.  The others were all down also, except for Rembrandt who was forcing himself to stay awake in order to keep breathing for Wade.

Fighting the blur that threatened to pull her into blackness, Logan made herself stand.  On legs that felt numb, she found her way to the phone booth she'd spotted a short way down the street.  She dialed 911, then passed out.
 

*****

What if there were alternate realities of Earth?  Same planet, different dimension.
A world where the internet is a way of life?
Or where the Russians rule America?
Or where your worst enemy is your own self?
Worlds where your dreams can come true, or your nightmares can haunt you...
These places do exist.  My friends and I have found the gateway to reach them!
Now the only problem is... finding a way back home....

Sliders - Infinite Slides
Based on the TV series 'Sliders'
created by Tracy Torme and Robert K. Weiss

*****
 

The hum of machines and a way-too-clean, antibacterial fresh smell greeted Maggie as she came to.  She opened her eyes and looked around her hospital room.  Logan sat on the bed across from her, staring at her.  "When this is behind us, you and I need to talk," she told Maggie.

"When what is behind us?" asked Maggie.  Her voice was slightly different and talking felt funny.  She guessed that it would get better in a day or so, or maybe just after she had a nice cool drink.  "And what would we possibly need to discus?"

Logan looked at her.  "You said some things on the last world that--"

"Are none of your business!" snapped Maggie, glaring harshly at her.

Logan's expression changed and became just as unfriendly as hers, maybe more so.  "Fine.  We won't talk.  But you still might want to check on your friends.  I figured they're what you'd be concerned about right now."

"Where are they anyway?" inquired Maggie, her tone still cold.

Shaking her head in annoyance with Maggie, Logan decided to calm her temper for the time being.  "Look, the last thing we need now is for us to be at each other's throats."  She paused, then spoke softly.  "Max and Rembrandt have their own room, and we're roomies."  She waved a finger from herself to Maggie.  "Your double, Quinn, and Wade are all in the ICU.  Your double should be fine.  Quinn and Wade are still in critical condition."

"But I thought we left the other Wade on the last world," commented Maggie in confusion.

Logan looked down, breaking eye contact with her.  "I was referring to your - our - Wade.  She still isn't breathing properly.  Rembrandt is with her.  Whatever we were breathing on the last world affected her worse than any of us."  She glanced back over at Maggie again.  "You and your double came out okay.  Your lungs are different.  However, they're fairly certain that Quinn is going to die."

Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, Maggie was instantly up and headed out of the room.  "I need to go see Wade," she mumbled on her way past Logan.

-----

Rembrandt slowly rubbed his face.  He was tired.  He picked up Wade’s hand and squeezed it gently.  She was still unconscious.  She’d be alright, but the last world had been too close.

He closed his eyes for a long moment.  He’d passed out after the slide.  He’d just barely gotten Wade breathing again before everything had turned to black.  It had been way too close.  He could have lost her.  With Quinn’s death still heavy on his mind, the thought was unbearable.

"How's she doing?" Maggie asked, stepping up behind him.

He turned from Wade and looked at her.  "Better," he answered, still holding Wade's hand in his.  "They've upgraded her condition to stable.  She should wake up soon."

Maggie found another chair and pulled it over next to Wade's bed.  She sat beside Rembrandt.  "That's good."  She looked at Wade who was hooked up to oxygen and an IV.  A few more minutes on that world and she'd have been dead right now.  "And Quinn and my double?"

Rembrandt moved his head in their direction, and Maggie saw them across the room.  She gave Rembrandt's shoulder a squeeze, then walked over to them.  She was curious about her double, who was either sleeping or still unconscious, but was drawn to Quinn.  She stood next his bed and just looked at him.

Quinn was connected to a respirator and several bags of different colored liquid hung next to him.  Maggie knew that he was being kept alive, and that he wouldn't survive without the machines he was hooked up to.  She almost cried as she scooped his hand into both of hers.  She traced her finger absently along his IV line.

The tips of her fingers ran back and forth across his hand, then she trailed them up his arm.  She hesitated slightly as she pushed up the sleeve of his hospital gown, revealing his shoulder.  There was nothing there - no number.  The tears welled in Maggie's eyes as she remembered times with her Quinn before he'd been taken from them.

But he hadn't been taken.  She'd let him die.  She put her hand to her face and tried to stop her sniffle.  Why hadn't she done things differently?  Why hadn't she helped him!  Quinn had always said that they were a team, they looked out for each other, trusted each other with their lives.  That trust had been misplaced when he put it in her.  She'd failed him.  She'd chosen her escape over his life.

No matter how hard she tried to rationalize her decision, she couldn't.  She just couldn't do it anymore.  She was responsible for his death.  She should have saved him, then taken her chances.  They all could have made it out alive.

Her gaze returned to this other Quinn as her mind returned to the present.  She'd tried to make amends by rescuing him; a small atonement for a wrong she could never right.  "Please live," she whispered almost silently to him.

-----

As Wade woke up, she quickly took in the fact that she was in a hospital.  She sighed deeply.  Part of her was actually getting used to this.  “What happened this time?” she asked Rembrandt who was sitting in a chair beside her bed.  Her throat hurt a bit when she talked.

“Bad air on the last world,” he replied simply.

She nodded slowly.  “Everyone okay?”

He patted her hand.  “Yeah.  How about you, sweetheart?”

“I’m alright.”  She carefully sat up.  “The other sliders?”

Rembrandt looked across the room and she followed his gaze.  A brunette version of Maggie was talking to one of the doctors.  She looked tired.

“Her name is Meg,” Rembrandt told Wade as she studied the woman.  “She’s pretty shaken up right now.  She’s lost everything.”

“Everything?” repeated Wade.  “She’s the only one?”

A fly that was crawling across the wall suddenly became very intriguing to Rembrandt, but it flew away and he was forced to look back to Wade.  “We also brought Quinn.  His chances aren’t good.”

Sympathy for Meg suddenly washed over Wade.  She knew what it was like to lose the people you care about.  She continued watching Meg for a while before she noticed the doctor.  “Is that...”

“Doctor Steven Jensen,” Rembrandt finished for her.  “Yeah, it is.  He’s a good man, saved her life.  Yours too.”

Wade sighed again as she followed their conversation even though she couldn’t hear them from that distance.  They seemed comfortable with each other, like old friends.  Maybe him being here was one good thing about an otherwise sucky slide.  She still didn’t know if they could trust him, but he had saved her life, so perhaps he was okay.  Thank goodness for small miracles.

-----

Wade was watching her cup of ice chips melt as Maggie sat down in the chair Rembrandt had abandoned when he went to go find a snack.  She was torn between wanting to go check on Quinn and trying to forget they’d ever rescued him.

“You gonna be okay?” Maggie asked her softly.

Wade shrugged.  “I’m feeling better already.”

Tilting her head in the direction of Quinn’s bed, Maggie added, “I meant if you’re okay about him?”

Wade looked down quickly.  “I’m fine.”

“I know his double hurt you, and then we lost our Quinn,” Maggie said carefully.  “If you want to talk about it, I’m probably not the best person for the job, but I’m here.”

Toying with the edge of her sheet now, Wade shook her head.  “Quinn kept him from hurting me...”

“He almost killed you, Wade.”  Maggie leaned forward, trying to catch Wade’s eyes.

“And I almost died again today,” she replied.  “That’s how sliding is.  I’m used to it.  But I’m alive, and the man over there is a stranger, and everything is peachy, so I’m just gonna try to get some sleep now.”

Gently, Maggie rubbed her shoulder.  “Alright,” she said before getting up to go find Rembrandt and the professor.

-----

It was late evening when Maggie decided to head for the motel.  Logan had left the group sometime during the afternoon, offering to get them rooms for their three day stay on this world.  This was the first time they’d let her out of their sight, and the very idea of leaving Logan alone was starting to bother Maggie.

As she made her way thankfully to the room which Logan had rented, Maggie wondered if they could trust her.  She could just dump the rest of them on any world and leave alone if she felt so inclined.  Maggie hoped Max or Rembrandt had thought to get the second timer from her.

Upon entering the room, Maggie discovered Logan standing at the table.  “You look surprised to see me,” commented Logan.

“Well, you’re actually where you’re supposed to be,” replied Maggie, taking in the piles of various items cluttering the small table.  “What’s all this?”

While shoving a few chocolate bars into a pouch on the backpack she was holding, Logan glanced over at Maggie who was eyeing her suspiciously.  “Just packing for when I abandon you guys and catch my plane for Hawaii.”  At Maggie’s glare, she set the pack on the table.  “I was kidding.  These are supplies for the next slide.  So, just you and me tonight?  ‘Cause I got two rooms.”

“No.  Max is coming later, but Remmy is staying with Wade.  They’re keeping her overnight,” she explained while gaping at all the junk Logan had collected.  Picking up a bag of M&M’s, she tore it open and popped a few into her mouth.

“Hey, those are emergency rations,” scolded Logan, snatching the bag away from her.

Laughing at the other woman’s idea of an MRE, Maggie decided that she must have never been in the military.  “If you plan for all the worlds we’ve been to, you’d also need parachutes, oxygen tanks, life rafts, fire extinguishers...”

“Look, from now on, we carry the essentials, okay?” Logan snapped at her.  “Food, water, flashlights, some medical supplies.  It’s amazing how unprepared you guys are.”

“We travel light, and we improvise.”  Maggie suddenly felt a bit sad as she recalled Quinn’s ‘drop everything and run like hell’ approach to sliding.

“Fine.  When we’re stranded on some god-forsaken world with no water, you can improvise yourself something to drink.”

Maggie’s mind returned to the present as she realized Logan was still talking to her.  “How did you pay for all this?” she asked with more ice in her voice than she’d intended.  She couldn’t help but feel that Logan had replaced Quinn in their little family.

“Are you always such a bitch?” Logan shot back, purposefully not answering the question.

“Yes, I am.  You’d think the two of us would get along well.”  Placing her hands on her hips, Maggie resumed glaring.

“Yeah, you’d think that.”  Logan grabbed the M&M’s and strolled over to the bed, flopping down and switching on the TV.

Sighing, Maggie followed her.  Logan simply flicked channels and turned up the volume.  Maggie seesawed between wanting to apologize and wanting to yell at her.  Shockingly enough, the apology won.

“Listen, Logan, I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting towards you.”  She paused before blurting, “I’m just still shaken up over Quinn’s death.”

The TV was muted as Maggie turned to leave.  “Because you think you killed him?”  Logan’s tone was surprisingly gentle.  The question was genuine, not a stab.

Freezing in her stride, Maggie spun back around, surprised and not sure how to respond to that, but she needed somebody to confide in, and that somebody certainly wasn’t one of the others.  “Yes.”

The honest response from Maggie stunned Logan more than the fact that she’d actually cared enough to sincerely ask the question.  Since when did she worry about anyone’s problems other than her own?  Maybe giving a damn was all part of the road to redemption.

"It's not your fault, Maggie.  You tried to save him," Logan eventually said, figuring her new slidemate deserved more than just a bad attitude from her.

"No, I didn't.  I let him die," Maggie replied numbly.  There was no way she was going to cry in front of Logan.  But even though she held back the tears, she couldn’t stop the words.  "I just left him to die."

Logan had trouble believing that.  "You what?"

Maggie put her hand to her face, wiping her eyes and trying to keep herself from sobbing.  "He was bleeding to death, in pain...” she confessed.  “And I let him die.  I just left him alone to die."

Guilty consciences were familiar territory to Logan.  "They would have killed him anyway, right?  You didn't have a choice," she said, understanding now where Maggie was coming from and actually trying to help.

"I shouldn't have left him."  She wiped at her eyes again, then gave up and just let herself cry.

Logan had never seen Maggie break down like this before.  Sure, it was only a few tears, but maybe the military bitch wasn't so tough after all.  "You've told us how he died.  There wasn't any other option.  So you left him.  So what?  Those few minutes saved our lives.  What would they have meant to Quinn?  He'd still be dead now."

"At least he wouldn't have had to die alone."

"You did the right thing, Maggie," Logan insisted.  "Forgive yourself and move on."

Shaking her head, Maggie looked over at the other woman through a layer of tears.  "I can't," she whimpered.  "I keep thinking that I should have tried something... anything.  He wouldn't have given up on me."

"He would if there was no other option," Logan told her.  "Quinn gave his life for you and the others.  He knew what he was doing.  You can't say he didn't know the risks.  And you can't say he would have wanted you to stay with him."

Logan paused a minute before continuing.  "He got to play the self-sacrificing hero, and you damn well know he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

Quinn had dragged them into this, and he’d ended up dying for them.  Logan frowned.  Forgiveness had a high price, and she had every intention of atoning for what she’d done, but there wasn’t a single soul on any world that she’d give her life for.  Part of her was glad there wasn’t; she didn’t need anybody but herself, and she wouldn’t sacrifice herself for anybody.  That’s how it had always been.  At least that’s how it was since she started sliding, and nothing before that seemed to matter anymore.  Yet something inside her wished she did have somebody that meant more to her than herself.

Remembering that Maggie was still watching her, Logan quickly finished their conversation.  “You've got to put this behind you, Maggie.  Accept that you couldn't have changed things, and in time the nightmares will go away, and you'll go on with your own life."

Maggie managed a nod.  She did need to move on.  It's what Quinn would have wanted.  But how could she ever forget what she'd done?  Those persistent nightmares would haunt her for a hundred years.  But maybe Logan was right, and eventually she would be able to sleep again.  As for forgiving herself, though, that part she wasn't so sure about.

-----

It was almost noon when Wade decided to get up.  She was actually learning how to get a good night’s sleep in a hospital bed, but she’d been awake and just lying there since fairly early that morning.  There really wasn’t any reason for her to get out of bed.  There was nowhere for her to go.  So she was just trying to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

However, her mind didn’t agree with plans of resting.  It kept wandering off and thinking about the past.  Sometimes Wade didn’t mind and would try to stay in those dreams, but more often she simply tried not to dream at all.  The last few slides were nothing but nightmares.

Rolling over, she propped herself on her elbow and finally allowed herself to glance across the room at Quinn.  She didn’t really want to look at him.  She kept telling herself that he’d be okay, but she never believed it.

Rembrandt and Arturo had both already checked on him today. She hadn’t felt like talking to anyone, so she’d pretended to be asleep while they were around.   Discussion would undoubtedly revolve around Meg and Quinn.  Were they going to continue sliding with the group?

That thought troubled Wade.  Sliding with another Quinn.  Having two Maggies wasn’t exactly her idea of heaven either, but Quinn was all she could think about.  She knew the others would vote to take him along.  But just having Logan around felt like they’d replaced the person she cared about with an inferior copy.

Getting up, she walked over to where Quinn was sleeping.  He looked like hell... but he still looked like Quinn.  Wade pulled a chair over beside his bed and sat down.

“Hi,” she said eventually.  “Um, I know you probably can’t hear me, but I thought I’d let you know that you can probably slide with us.  I can tell the others want that.  You can hear it in their voices when they talk about you.”

She sighed and ran her hands through her hair.  Looking at him almost made her cry and she had to remind herself that he wasn’t her Quinn.  "Okay, here’s the thing,” she blurted.  “I don't know you.  I really have no idea who you are.  But I had to come see you.”

Wade gently pushed some hair from his forehead.  Why did she care so much about him?  “A part of me hates you for looking like him,” she confessed.  “For being him.  But you aren't, and I know that.  I just... I don't know really.  I don't want them looking at you like you're Quinn.  I don't want you in our group - at least not as him.  I couldn't handle that.  Maybe it's because I find myself doing it, and that's why I hate so badly to see it in the others.

“I just want you to get better and join us, slide with us... and be him because I need you to be--"  She paused, actually listening to what she was saying.  What was she doing?  She shouldn’t even be here.  She softly caressed Quinn’s cheek.  "Why do you have to have his face?"

-----

Wade was still sitting at Quinn’s bedside when a hand was rested on her shoulder.  “You okay?”

She looked up to see Maggie’s double standing behind her.  “What?”

“It’s Wade, right?” she asked softly, fetching another chair.

Wiping quickly at her eyes, Wade nodded.  “Yeah, it is. And I’m fine,” she blurted, feeling embarrassed that it was Meg asking her that question.  “Why shouldn’t I be okay? I’m fine. How are you?”

She sighed.  “I mean, are you okay?” she tried again, more composed this time.  She returned her gaze to Quinn.  “All this must be hard.”

“Yeah,” Meg answered a bit awkwardly.  “I just can’t believe they’re gone.  And Quinn is...”  She looked away, running a hand through her hair.  “I just can’t lose him.”

“Neither can I,” Wade said barely above a whisper, her eyes still focused on Quinn’s hand which she hadn’t even realized she was holding.

“You know his double, don’t you?”

“Yes.”  The answer had been automatic and Wade closed her eyes for a moment to fight back the wave of emotion it caused.  “I used to.  He died.”

“I’m sorry.”  Those two words were the only response Meg knew how to give.  It didn’t seem to be enough.

Wade turned to face her.  “So am I.”

Only silence followed as the two sat there together, staying with Quinn.  They couldn’t say anything to help support each other, but it was cold comfort knowing that they’d been through the same thing.

-----

Meg stayed in the ICU all day.  Wade had left hours ago.  Meg knew she hadn’t left the hospital, but the atmosphere in this room had caused her to flee.  The shared sympathy had become overwhelming.  They’d both lost people close to them, and all had been tragic and unexpected deaths.

Wade’s past was now familiar ground to Meg, yet it was a topic neither of them had been very comfortable discussing.  They were both still too numb to talk.

The Quinn that Wade had known had obviously died recently.  She was a mess of emotions that Meg knew she’d see reflected back at her if she looked in a mirror.  Wade’s face was an open book whenever she was in the same area of the ICU as Quinn.  The girl was crushed.

Meg wondered if she’d look so hopeless and alone when the reality of Rembrandt and Wade’s deaths really settled.  Right now all she could do was pray that she wouldn’t lose Quinn too.

“Can I offer you a cup of coffee?”

Turning, Meg noticed Doctor Jensen standing beside her, a cup in his outstretched hand.  She shook her head, as much to clear her mind as reject the offered coffee.  She motioned to her own cup which sat on the nearby table.

“I’ve had enough of that stuff to kill me anyway,” she said.

“I’ll admit it isn’t the best,” he replied, setting down his cup.  “Perhaps I can interest you in dinner instead?”

“No.  Thank you.”  She looked back to Quinn.  “I’m not hungry.”

He nodded.  “But you do need to eat something.  Get out of the hospital for a while, get some fresh air, maybe some real coffee.”

Meg smiled slightly, relenting.  “Sure.”  She couldn’t deny that the guy was charming, and fresh air and fresh coffee were too tempting to pass up.  He was right; it would probably do her some good.

Returning her smile, Jensen added, “My shift ends in about ten minutes.  I’ll be back then.”

As he left, Wade was re-entering the ICU.  “What was that about?”

“He offered me dinner.”

“And you said yes?”  Wade stared at her.

“Yeah.”  Standing, Meg brushed the wrinkles from her clothes.  “Why shouldn’t I have?”

“Because it’s just wrong,” blurted Wade.  “He’s not your husband.  Just because you know the face, that doesn’t mean you know the man.  This Steven is a totally different person, and you shouldn’t think that you can just--“  She stopped, realizing that the person she was angry at was herself and not Meg.

“I’m sorry,” Wade apologized suddenly.  She couldn’t believe she’d just said that.  “Just don’t expect him to replace what you lost,” she finished, trying to explain her little outburst.

Meg gave her a blank expression, blinking a few times and attempting to understand what the heck that had just been about.  “Wade, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about,” she eventually responded.  “I’ve never met Dr. Jensen before in my life.”

So this Maggie had never been married to him?  “I’m sorry,” Wade mumbled again, feeling like a fool.  “I just thought that...  I’m sorry.”

Shaking her head, Wade walked away.

-----

After Meg had left, Wade had taken her place sitting at Quinn’s bedside.  She leaned her elbows on the bed and propped her chin in her hands, sighing.

“I’ve been making a total jerk out of myself lately,” she told him, wanting somebody to talk to.  She decided to just pretend that he was listening.  “Ever since we brought you with us, I just...  Hell, I don’t even know.  But you’re doing something to me and I don’t know how to handle it.”

She glared at him, wanting him to just wake up and talk to her.  She was letting him get under her skin and he didn’t even know that she existed.  It wasn’t fair.  She needed to hear his voice again.  She needed her own Quinn back.

“I hate you,” she finally told him, getting up and leaving the room.

-----

It wasn’t even an hour later that Wade found herself standing back outside the ICU.  After wandering aimlessly, she’d unintentionally wound up back there.  Or maybe her destination hadn’t been so accidental.

She owed this Quinn an apology.  How could she hate him?  She couldn’t resent the man just for reminding her of a missing part in her own life.

As she was entering, an alarm started going off, causing her to run the rest of the way over to him.  She prayed it was one of the other patients who was in trouble, yet she knew it wasn’t.  Catching sight of the monitors that were displaying his vitals, she knew instantly that it was indeed Quinn who was the cause of the code.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, reaching him and pressing her fingers to his neck and feeling his pulse fade.  “You can’t die again.  Please...”

As his pulse disappeared, Wade spun around, her eyes searching for a doctor.  “I need help!” she shouted before turning back to Quinn.  She gently touched his face and cried, knowing that he’d stopped breathing before she’d even gotten there.  She choked back a sob.

“Somebody please help...”  Her yell turned into a hoarse whisper as she broke into tears.  She couldn’t watch him die again.

She sank to her knees as hospital staff finally rushed into the room in response to the alarm, then simply sat on the floor and started sobbing as the doctors failed to revive Quinn.

-----

Everything was still just a blur as Wade eventually registered Rembrandt’s voice.  He was asking her if she was alright.  She honestly didn’t know.

She shakily accepted the cup of water that he handed her.  She vaguely recalled him picking her up off the floor in the ICU and leading her out to the waiting room.  The past half hour was all hazy.  The only sharp image in her mind was of the sheet being pulled over Quinn’s head.

She could still hear the voices also.  Doctors yelling orders, swearing, somebody making note of the time of death...

Wade put her face in her hands, not caring if she’d dropped her cup or if Rembrandt had taken it from her.  They hadn’t been able to save Quinn.

Somewhere in her mind, her senses told her that Rembrandt was holding her now.  His shirt was soft and she leaned against him as she let herself cry.  "I miss him.”

He gently stroked her back.  “So do I.”

-----

Arturo joined Rembrandt and Wade in the waiting area.  He’d already been informed of Quinn’s death.

Wade was sleeping on the couch, and Rembrandt slipped away from her, careful not to wake her, and he moved to stand beside the professor.

“How is she?” Arturo asked.

“Still pretty shaken up.”  He rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn.  Glancing at his watch, Rembrandt realized just how late it was.  “I’m taking her home.”

Slowly, Arturo nodded.  It didn’t matter that home was actually rooms 12 and 13 of the Motel 12.  That was still better than having Wade spend another night at the hospital.

-----

Before leaving the hospital, Rembrandt went in search of Meg.  He found her talking with Dr. Jensen.  “We’re going back to the motel,” he carefully interrupted.

Meg nodded but didn’t say anything.

“You’re welcome to come with us,” offered Rembrandt.

“Thank you,” Meg said quietly, “but I’ll get my own room somewhere.  I want to be alone.”

“Okay,” Rembrandt reluctantly agreed.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Meg echoed.

-----

“How do we know she won’t kill us while we sleep?” Wade asked, glaring at Logan.

Grabbing her arm, Maggie dragged her aside.  “I know you’re upset, but can’t we try to just share a room for one night?  You really want to start a fight now?”

“No, I guess not.”  Wade sighed, looking around Maggie to Logan who was peeling an apple with her pocketknife.  “But I’m just not comfortable with her here.”

Maggie cast Logan an annoyed look.  “Just eat the skin.”  Logan shrugged and flicked the blade of her knife back in before slipping it into her pocket.

“And I’m asking you to cut her some slack, Wade,” Maggie pleaded, trying to keep the peace.  She was actually starting to like Logan.  And they’d all done things in their pasts that they’d rather forget.

Slack for the person who’d tried to kill her?  Wade wasn’t quite that forgiving.  She rolled her eyes at Maggie.  “Sympathy for the devil,” she mumbled, grabbing a pillow.

-----

A cold sweat coated Maggie as she jerked awake.  She slowly sat up and ran her hands through her tangled hair.  Why couldn’t she stop dreaming about Quinn’s death?

The clock read 4:38am as she reached over to flick on the small light beside her bed.  Logan was still sleeping and thankfully not up plotting their demise, but Wade’s bed was empty.  Apparently she wasn’t the only one with bad dreams.

Maggie started to head for the sink to get a drink, but she stopped as she noticed the faint light coming from under the door that connected her room to the guys’.  She leaned her back against the door and listened to the soft voices of Wade and Rembrandt.

Those two had started this crazy trip with Quinn.  They were the only ones from their original group left.  Maggie sighed, knowing that as long as she slid with them, she’d always have to live with the guilt of being the one who let their friend die.

-----

On the other side of that door, Wade and Rembrandt sat side by side on his bed.  She’d gone to his and Arturo’s room when her nightmare had kept her awake.  Maybe she’d ask if the girls could have room 12 next slide.  For some reason, she always felt more comfortable there.  All the rooms were basically the same, but there was just something familiar about 12 that Wade liked.  Perhaps it was just the memories of all the nights spent sharing that room with the guys on so many other worlds before Maggie had joined the group and they’d started getting an extra room.

She glanced over at the door that separated their rooms.  She’d never get used to having Maggie and Logan as roommates.  It was supposed to be just her, Remmy, the professor... and Quinn.

That was what she missed most.  The nights the four of them had spent in this room.  Arturo and Rembrandt’s soft snoring, the way she and Quinn would pretend to be annoyed at it - sometimes using their snoring as an excuse to stay up talking since neither of them could sleep over the racket, but she knew they both didn’t really mind.  Wade almost smiled at the memory.

“Penny for them,” commented Rembrandt when Wade’s silence stretched.

She looked over at him.  “I was just thinking about how you guys used to throw shoes at each other to wake the others up.”

“Remember the time Q-ball knocked the professor in the head with one?”  Rembrandt grinned.

Wade had to put her hand over her mouth to cover her laugh.  “And with the rock on Hippie World after the spider-wasps.  The professor was mad at Quinn for a week over that.”

“Q-ball never did learn how to throw,” chuckled Rembrandt.

“I can’t believe he used to play football,” added Wade.  “I can’t picture Quinn involved in any sports.”

Nodding, Rembrandt added, “He spent too much time in that basement of his.  He might have been good at basketball though.”

A smile flickered across Wade’s face.  “He wanted to have enough kids for his own basketball team, ya know.”

Rembrandt actually hadn’t known that, and as Wade’s smile faded, he wished it had never come up.

“I still can’t believe he’s dead,” Wade’s said softly, then paused for a minute.  “I should have been there.”

“Where?”  Rembrandt almost didn’t want to know the answer to that question.

She looked down.  “With him when he...”  She hesitated.  “It’s not fair.”  It was as if some ancient god had put out a decree on the universe saying that all Quinn Mallorys had to die, and she had the privilege of witnessing each one’s death except hers.

“I wasn’t there the only time it mattered,” she added.  “How come I was forced to be with this one when he died, but I wasn’t allowed to be there for him?”

Understanding what she meant wasn’t difficult.  Rembrandt also wished he’d been with their Quinn when he’d died.  He wished he hadn’t died at all.  “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

“It just can’t be real, Remmy.”  Wade wiped her eyes as she started to cry.  She seemed to be crying a lot lately.  Her life had become a bad dream she couldn’t escape from.  This couldn’t be real.  “So why can’t I wake up?  I just want to wake up...”

-----

Having slid down the door to sit on the floor, Maggie pulled her knees to her chest, then she put her face in her hands.  She’d only caught a few small pieces of the conversation in the other room, but she’d already known what it would be about.

Quinn was dead.  Not just some other Quinn - they’d all been through that before, seen doubles die - but this was their Quinn.  Remmy’s Quinn, Wade’s Quinn, even Max’s Quinn now... her Quinn.  The only Quinn she’d ever really known.

He’d been such a part of their group.  The others all had such tight relationships with him.  He was like a leader, brother, son, close friend, best friend...  Maggie thought about Wade for a moment.  Perhaps she needed to add boyfriend to that list.

Sighing deeply, Maggie ran her hands through her hair.  Whatever Quinn was, she’d been the one responsible for his death.  By not trying to save him, she felt as though she might as well have killed him herself.  Sliding had rules; and if rule one was improvising, then rule zero had to be that you never leave anyone behind.  Maybe it was an unspoken rule, but they all knew it.

No one gets left behind.  How many times had she heard that in her life? It didn’t mean anything, just something people say until they’re actually forced to act on it.  And then they turn the other way, run away, save themselves.  Or at least she had.

Quinn wouldn’t have.  She’d seen him honor that rule a hundred times, but she never truly knew what it meant until she broke it.  The good of the many meant nothing when it came to sliding.  Sliding meant beating the odds, fighting ‘til you had nothing left but getting up and pushing on anyway, all for one, never giving up, putting your own life on the line for your friends and knowing they’d do the same for you... and then somehow you got out alive, everyone made it to the next world... and nobody got left behind.

Great time to realize what that meant.  Getting up, Maggie walked back over to her bed.  As she lay down, she glanced over at Logan.  They truly had a rag-tag team of misfits now.  And it was her fault.  The old professor had died on her world, shot by her enemy.  Then she’d left Quinn to die, and without him, they were forced to slide with their worst enemy.

She certainly hadn’t done right by them, and they’d only been trying to help save her world.  When would they learn not to do good deeds for strangers?

Maggie sunk her head into her pillow.  She really didn’t want them to ever change.  She needed them to change her.

Although, with all the regret she was feeling now, perhaps they already had.

-----

That morning, Maggie met Meg for breakfast.  It was a quaint little coffee place, unfamiliar but almost cozy.

Maggie broke off a piece of her bagel and popped it into her mouth.  Meg wasn’t eating anything, just playing with her napkin.  Maggie didn’t think the two of them had much in common.  It didn’t matter.  There was still some kind of connection between the two women that made them comfortable with each other.  Doubles could be complete opposites, but they were still the same person, changed only by the choices they’d made in their lives.

Wade had once told her that she felt connected to all her doubles.  Maggie supposed she understood that.  Maybe that’s what had compelled her to call Meg.

“I heard you had dinner with Steven last night,” commented Maggie, curious as to whether it had been a date.

Meg nodded slightly.  “Dr. Jensen is a good man.”

“I know,” replied Maggie.  “I married him.”

“Really?” Meg asked in disbelief.  Then she laughed a bit.  “So that’s what Wade was talking about the other day.  I never considered that his double might be your husband.  How long have you been married?”

A bit uncomfortable with the question, Maggie shifted in her chair.  “We were only married a few years before he died.”  She took a sip of her drink, hoping to hide how awkward she felt.  She thought she’d gotten over his death long ago.

Absently, Maggie glanced down at her finger where her ring used to be.  She didn’t even remember where her wedding bands were.  She’d taken them off the first time she’d cheated on her husband.  Now that she thought about it, she truly regretted not having them anymore.

“He helped figure out what to do about Quinn’s funeral,” Meg mentioned after neither of them had talked for a couple minutes, using death as a morbid segue in their conversation.  “It normally takes a while with this world’s system.”

The ceremony was going to be in the afternoon before the slide.  “I’m really sorry he didn’t make it,” Maggie said.  “I’d hoped that he would.  Our Quinn had a real knack for bouncing back when we thought we’d lost him.  Well, until a few worlds ago...”

“I never really thought he’d pull through this,” confessed Meg.  “Quinn gave up when Wade died.  The two of them were engaged.”

Meg sighed deeply.  “You’re still not over it, are you?” she asked Maggie.  “Losing Quinn.”

“No.”  Maggie studied her double, wondering how much to tell her.  “I have nightmares about it whenever I close my eyes.”  She set her unfinished bagel back on her napkin and pushed it away, no longer hungry.

“I was hoping last night would be the only one.”  Meg had had bad dreams also.  “I just kept watching them die.  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep again.”

Never closing her eyes seemed like a good idea to Maggie, however impractical.  “In my dream, everything is almost unreal.  Like it’s in black and white or something.  Except the blood.  That’s always so red.  I wake up, and for a few seconds, I can still see it on my hands.”

Maggie shuddered, her mind returning to that hallway.  She could still see Quinn lying on the cold floor.  His blood had been everywhere.  And she’d let him bleed to death.  She tried to shake away the image.

“This isn’t going to just go away anytime soon, is it?” Meg asked, already knowing the answer.

Getting up, Maggie chucked her trash in the garbage can.  “I doubt it.”

-----

After she’d parted ways with Meg, Maggie headed back to the motel.  It was a short walk, so she took her time, enjoying being outside.  The day was nice, and she needed a chance to let her mind drift.

Sighing deeply, she slipped off her jacket and tied it around her waist.  The morning was warming enough that she no longer needed it.  She fiddled with knot of the sleeves until her stroll placed her outside the Motel 12.

Digging for her key, she made her way to the room she shared with Logan and Wade.  She let herself in and tossed the key on the table.  “Where’s Wade?” she asked, seeing only Logan who had taken the back off the television and was messing with the wires.  She opened the door that connected to the other room and found it empty as well.

“They went out,” Logan replied, removing part of the VCR and tossing it on the bed.  “Late breakfast, early lunch, something like that.”

Maggie perched herself on the edge of the bed.  “You didn’t go with them?”

“Wasn’t invited.”  Logan shrugged, then started to put the entertainment center back together.

“What’s wrong with the TV?”  Maggie untied her jacket and laid it on the bed beside her.

Logan glanced over at her.  “Nothing.  Just borrowing a few parts.”  She retrieved her backpack from the couch, then shoved her stuff into it, topping it off by dumping in the batteries from the remote controls.

The room was silent for a moment before Logan blurted, “Maggie, can I borrow your coat?”

That request puzzled Maggie.  “I don’t think it’ll fit in your pack.”

“Just for today.”  Logan gave her an almost pleading look, but then it disappeared.  “Never mind.  Forget it.”

The day was only getting hotter.  Maggie studied Logan as she quickly attempted to busy herself with something so the conversation would be dropped.  Maggie glanced at her jacket, then took note of the chair in which the others had all piled theirs.  Hers was navy, and the chair held two blacks, a dark brown... and one white.

So that was the problem.  The shirt Logan was wearing was a light yellow.  She was totally screwed for attending a funeral.  “Sure,” Maggie replied casually, noticing the look of relief on Logan’s face as she agreed.  Her own outfit was a very deep maroon, so she had nothing to worry about.  “Just make sure it still has a zipper when you return it.”

Logan gave her a quick smile.  “Whatever is in the pockets is fair game then?”  She paused and broke eye contact before adding a rushed, “Thank you.”

Not seeming to want to discus the topic further, Logan grabbed a pack of cards, then flopped down on the other bed and started spreading them in piles on the sheet.

Maggie looked over at her.  “What’re ya playing?”

“Solitaire.”

“Wanna deal me in?”

Logan raised an eyebrow at her, but then began making more stacks of cards.  “Two person solitaire.  Well, whatever floats your boat...”

They played quietly for a few minutes - Maggie constantly wondering if Logan was cheating - before conversation resumed.

“Logan, there’s something I need to know,” Maggie stated bluntly.  “First, did you just put an eight on a six?  And second, you never told us how you escaped from Base the first time.”

“Yes, I did.”  Logan picked up the eight of spades, then shoved all of her cards into a pile and began shuffling them.  “I was on a mission.  Another group of sliders happened to slide onto that world while I was there.  I stole their timer and used its clean signature to avoid being tracked.”

She glanced up at Maggie.  “I know what you’re going to say next and the answer is yes.  I have been cheating this whole time.  And I did strand them there.”

It was an honest answer.  More than Maggie had expected.  “Thank you.”  She held out four cards to Logan.  “I have all the sevens.”

-----

Rembrandt shifted uncomfortably in his chair.  “I should probably go after her.”  He gazed out the diner window.  “She barely touched her meal.”

Arturo sighed, noticing that Rembrandt’s own plate was still full.  “Neither did you.  You haven’t eaten much of anything since we lost Mr. Mallory.”

“None of us ate last night,” he replied.

Arturo took a sip of his drink.  “You know that isn’t what I meant.”

Wrong Quinn.  Rembrandt was fully aware of that.  “Wade took Q-ball’s death pretty hard.  I’m just trying to look after her.”

“Have you ever thought about how this has affected you?” Arturo asked pointedly.

“Of course I have!”  Rembrandt paused.  “Perhaps not as much as I should.  Quinn was a good friend, but I can’t afford to let this get to me.”

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Have you?”

Arturo picked up his cup then set it back down without drinking anything.  “No.  Quinn was like a son to me, and I’ll grieve for him as one.  You haven’t mourned his passing at all.”

“You think it doesn’t tear me apart that he’s dead?” Rembrandt asked, a hint a anger showing in his tone.  “I do care about what happened to Quinn.”

Nodding, Arturo replied, “I think you care too much.”

“Fine.”  Rembrandt got up.  “Then you tell me how the hell I’m supposed to deal with this.  While you figure that out, I’m going to go make sure the others are alright.  The last time we lost someone, it almost destroyed us.  I won't let that happen again.”

-----

Why wasn’t it raining?  Wade frowned at the sunny afternoon.  It was truly pleasant, and she hated it.  Birds chirped happily in the trees, and the air was fresh and clean.

It was one of those days to smell the flowers and enjoy just being alive.  Except almost everyone gathered here was dead.  Wade shivered against the warm sunlight.  In her mind, it was overcast of drizzling.  Nature could have at least provided her that, she thought.

She glared up at the cloudless sky.  Ironic that it was so perfect outside when the purpose of this meeting was death.  The others would arrive soon.  She was the first; she’d been here for hours.  They were putting Quinn’s body beneath the ground, and the earth seemed eager to welcome him.  She shook her head in disgust.

Of all the days of the year, today was one that should have had rain.

“Beautiful out, isn’t it?” Logan’s voice asked, almost cheerfully but not quite, shattering Wade’s silent thoughts.

“Peachy,” she spat back in annoyance, abruptly ending any hope of civilized small talk between the two.  With that, Wade strutted off to find Meg and the others.

Shrugging, Logan followed, wary to keep several paces behind the upset Wade.  She didn’t think she’d ever understand that girl.

-----

“I told him about sliding.”

“You did what?”  Logan’s tone was as if she were talking to a small child, but her suddenly clenched fists implied that she was about two seconds away from having her fingers wrapped around Meg’s throat.  “I know I missed part of this conversation!”

Wade crossed her arms over her chest.  “Care to fill us in here, guys?”  She looked expectantly to the others, waiting for a rational explanation of the discussion she and Logan had just stumbled into.

“Come on, twin sisters who are both named Margaret?”  Meg glanced over at Maggie.  “Yeah, that was gonna fly.”

“You couldn’t have said we were cousins?” Maggie asked obviously.

Logan felt herself relax slightly, almost hoping Maggie was going to drop-kick her double halfway across the cemetery.  They might have been having an important talk without her, but at least none of them seemed happy about what was going on.  Sliding was something you didn’t discus with strangers.  And however different her new traveling companions were, she prayed that they knew that.

Meg groaned.  “He’s a doctor, not an idiot.”  She paused and looked at the group.  “Besides, I’m staying here.  Steven has offered to help me find a job.  I’ll be okay.”

Wade was about to speak when Logan pre-empted her.  “Thank God!  One of you is really quite enough.  Um, no offense of course, Meg.  Timer strain and all that...”

Logan turned away and started messing with her hair, not looking directly at the others in an attempt to avoid any trouble from her little outburst.  She thought she saw a flicker of a small grin brighten Wade’s expression for a second and wondered what she’d been about to say.  Perhaps she wasn’t the only who didn’t want Meg hanging around.

“You sure?” Rembrandt asked Meg, actually caring about just ditching her on a strange world.

Giving him a slight smile, she replied, “Yeah, I think I am.”

Rembrandt nodded.  “Alright.”

And that simply they were back to being five.

-----

After the brief service for Quinn had ended, Rembrandt fell into stride beside Maggie.  “Something troubling you?”

“He’s single, he’s a doctor, and my double snagged him.”  She sighed.  Meg hadn’t been more than two feet from Steven the entire time.

“And you’re jealous?”  Rembrandt raised an eyebrow at her.

“Hell yes,” Maggie shot back.  “I mean no.  It’s just that seeing them together...  Well, I wouldn’t want a normal life anyway, so what’s it matter.”

“It’s okay to miss him.  Missing people seems to be the topic these days.”

“That’scertainly true,” agreed Maggie.  “I’m just getting tired of seeing the same people on so many different worlds, and so many times the same people have ended up together, but we always end up alone.”

Maggie glanced over at Wade who was standing by herself.  For the first time since Quinn had died, she actually thought she might understand how Wade felt.

Wade looked across the cemetery at Maggie who was watching her.  She was standing on the opposite side of Meg and Jensen.

Meg and Jensen - they’d found each other in the midst of tragedy.  Perhaps some things were destined to be so on every world.  She’d lost track of the number of times her doubles had been married to Quinn.

Feeling depressed, Wade watched the new couple.  The two of them were able to hold onto a glint of happiness.  Wade had forgotten what happiness was.  She turned away from gazing at the couple.  She envied them.  In a time of what seemed like only death to Wade, they were starting a new life.

And Meg had trusted him from the moment they’d met.  No suspicions, no fear of betrayal....  Wade wondered when she’d lost the ability to trust.  These days, she always expected a stab in the back.  The fact that this slide hadn’t turned into a bad made-for-TV movie surprised her.

Finding herself staring at them again, she determinedly looked away from Meg and Jensen, then strolled over to Maggie who was no longer with Rembrandt.

Maggie welcomed Wade’s company.  “Sucks sometimes, doesn’t it?” she commented.

“Yep,” Wade sighed.

They simultaneously returned their gazes to Dr. Jensen and Maggie’s double.  “One of these days, it’ll be us.”

Wade tried to smile.  “One of these days...”

-----

It had been an hour since they’d buried Quinn, but none of the sliders had left yet.  The graveyard was empty except for them.

Wade had needed some time to herself, so she’d wandered off on her own.  Meg had said a few words at the ceremony.  Wade almost did as well, but she knew that it wouldn’t have been right.  She would have been saying things that were meant for somebody else.  And screw the whole, “He’d want us to be happy,” crap.  She would have gone for something more along the lines of, “This sucks.”

It truly, without a shadow of a doubt, royally sucked.  Not your average speech for a funeral, but maybe it should have been, though.  Because what was there to be happy about?  That somebody you love died?  Real Kodak moment there.  Yeah, get on with your life, okay sure... but why today?

If it was her who’d died, she had to admit she’d want everyone to be crying their eyes out.  At least that way it seemed like you were missed, that somebody gave a damn.

Definitely not the appropriate thing to say at a funeral.

Wade absently felt herself walking across the large cemetery and was drawn to stand under a familiar tree.  Her fingers hesitantly traced the bark.  She then leaned against it as a tear slipped down her cheek.  They’d just buried Quinn, so why couldn’t she seem to be able to bury hers?

Rembrandt joined her, leaving her some space but standing close enough for her to know he was there.  “You going to be alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just saying good-bye.”  At least she was trying to, but the part of her that didn’t believe in good-byes was refusing to let her.  She didn’t want to accept that Quinn was really gone.

“Mind if I join you?”  He knew she meant for their Quinn, not the one who had died yesterday.

She blinked back the tears as she nodded that it was okay.

It was only a few minutes before Arturo and Maggie were both standing with them.  They let the silence stretch for a while before Maggie finally spoke.

“I never really knew what family was until Quinn brought me into your group,” she started.  Her relationships with her father and husband had been almost as much a part of her military career as her rank.  The USAF had been all she’d ever known, but she’d never felt like part of a group.

“I never had the chance to thank him for that,” she continued.  “He saw something in me that I didn’t know was there.  Who’d have thought Maggie Beckett would become a team player.  I started this journey thinking revenge would heal whatever was broken inside me.  But it didn’t.  He did.  I don’t want to know what my life would have been like if I hadn’t met him.”

Arturo nodded solemnly.  “When I first began sliding with you all, we all had wounds that needed healing.  The loss of people we cared about....  We each had walls built up around us, refusing to let anyone in, afraid of replacing what we’d lost.”  He stopped as he let the memories run through his mind.  “I didn’t see when it happened, but eventually those walls dropped, and we learned to appreciate each other as ourselves, not replacing those we’d lost, but filling the empty spaces with new friendships.  The struggles we faced brought us together, and Quinn was truly like a son to me.  I never imagined anyone could affect me like that again, but somehow that boy did.”

Rembrandt looked at the three people with him.  An Air Force captain, a science professor, and a brilliant computer tech... his family.  And he couldn’t have asked for a better one.  But now they were gathered for one purpose, and there were things he wanted to say.

“It was an accident that pulled me into this.  I can’t believe I was upset about losing my car.  That was a small trade for everything I received in exchange.”  He reached over and took Wade’s hand.  He’d never expected to wind up such friends with the three strangers who’d drawn him into their science experiment and then into their lives.  Now two of them had been replaced by two new, and one that they were just learning to trust.

He glanced over to where Logan was standing alone.  It would definitely take time, but she was one of them now, for better or worse.  “Q-ball’s mistake was the best thing that ever happened to me,” he added.  “I just hope he knew that.”

Wade remained silent.  She’d started all of this with her eagerness for adventure.  She dove into something without understanding or realizing what any of it meant.  The adventure she’d found was more than she’d ever dreamed.  And it was all because of Quinn.  How could she say anything that would express what she felt?  There weren’t any words for the pain Quinn’s death had caused.  She could talk for a thousand years and never say how much he’d meant to her.  So she said nothing.  The journey wasn’t over.  She couldn’t say good-bye.

The single rose, which Wade had held throughout the ceremony, was gently laid on the grass at the base of the tree.  She touched her hand to her lips and kissed her fingers, then she softly rested her hand on the petals of the dark rose.  After a moment, she stood and walked away.

The others watched her go.  Yet before following, three more roses were placed not on a grave but on ground that held only roots... in the shade of a tree which stood in the center of a cemetery that on another world was called Golden Gate Park.

-----

Logan watched them go, feeling strangely left out.  The reason for their private gathering had been clear, and it was something she’d never be a part of.  Quinn had been their friend, and she’d been nothing but his enemy.  Yet what use was fretting over a past that couldn’t be changed?

“The others have gone?” Meg asked her.

Logan nodded before turning and focusing her attention entirely on Meg.  “Still staying behind?”

“Yeah.”  Meg held out her hand to her.  The others were Logan’s group, not hers.  “Thanks for the rescue, but this is where I get off.  Sliding has already taken enough away from me.”

That couldn’t be argued, but Logan hoped sliding would bring her a different fate.  She shook Meg’s hand.  “Maybe someday it’ll give something back.”

-----

Later that night, Wade finally got her rain.  Clouds hid the moon, and thunder and lightning shook the dark sky before breaking it apart in a frightening, however strikingly beautiful, downpour.  At least the storm was beautiful to Wade anyway.  It was angry, wild, and yet somehow serene.  And it fit her mood perfectly.

Silently, Wade slipped from the room and exited the building.  When she’d reached the back of the Motel 12’s grounds, she allowed herself to fall to her knees and just scream out all the frustration and anger that was pent up inside her, needing release.

Her desperate cry was covered by the crash of rolling thunder as the storm slowly moved on, leaving only gusts of pouring rain in its wake.  Torrents of cold wind whipped around her, tossing her hair and chilling her, but she didn’t care.  She wished the flashes of lightning would never stop.  There was something almost peaceful about the storm.  Nature was crying with her and it just seemed right.

She’d finally let him go, and it hurt more than if the world had just ended.  She would have moved heaven and hell if it could have brought him back - Lord only knows how many times he’d managed to do it for her - but no matter how hard it was to accept, there was nothing she could do but grieve.

She stayed there as the still pouring rain soaked through the layers of her clothing, causing her to shiver amongst the shaking sobs, and she cried over her life and life in general, over the past, and over the future... and she cried for the friend she’d never see again.

-----

It was almost dawn as Rembrandt sat on the small bench outside the Motel 12.  Wade glanced over at him, then returned her gaze to the ground.

“You’ve been out here all night?”

She nodded.

Taking off his jacket, he draped it over her shoulders.  “Thank you,” she said quietly, wrapping the coat tightly around herself.

Rembrandt leaned back and sighed deeply.  “This sucks.”

Wade just blinked as she turned to face him, then she actually smiled.  “My thoughts exactly.”  Somebody else saying those two words helped her more than if a thousand people told her everything would be okay.  Because it wasn’t okay.  It hurt.  Maybe it was a bizarre form of mental healing, but to Wade it was the best kind of therapy.  Rembrandt felt the same way she did, and that was enough because she didn’t have to face this alone anymore.

He gently pushed some damp hair from her face, then put his arm around her.  “The slide’s in about an hour.”

“I know,” she replied.

Standing, he held out his hand to her.  After a moment, she took it and he helped her up.  Then she let him lead her back inside.

The wet footprints they’d left behind slowly faded as the ground dried.  The storm had moved on.  As had the night, being replaced by a rising sun which brought with it the warmth and light of morning, and the promise of a new day.
 

THE END