The Haunting

By Bratling

Disclaimer: Not mine. I hugged them, squeezed them, called them George, and then gave them back like a good girl. Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman belongs to Beth Sullivan, CBS, and A&E.

Author's Note: The result of watching second season's Halloween late at night and getting a "what if". I don't believe in ghosts, but in the DQ universe, they're canon, so... What if Abigail had been a more vindictive kind of ghost? And what if Michaela hadn't been the primary target?


"A ghost is someone who hasn't made it-in other words, who died, and they don't know they're dead. So they keep walking around and thinking that you're inhabiting their-let's say, their domain. So they're aggravated with you."

-Sylvia Browne


Sully pulled off his shirt, leaned back on his bedroll and sighed. He was tired. Michaela had been being obstinate about his wish to improve the homestead; to make it more comfortable for her and the children. At least to himself, he'd admitted that Michaela and the children were his family now. Not only did he love the kids as his own, but he was in love with Dr. Mike. He wasn't ready yet to act on it, but he knew the time would come. He stared into the fire for a few minutes before rolling over to look at the stars. The way he felt for Michaela was different than what he'd felt for Abigail. It was deeper somehow, richer. It was like... he'd found a part of himself that he hadn't known was missing until he met her.

Wolf started to whine, then got up and tried to move into the space behind Sully in the lean-to. "What's the matter, boy?" Sully asked, scratching behind the animal's ears.

Wolf whined some more and tried to make himself small as possible. It was then Sully noticed how quiet it had become. All of the normal night sounds that he'd become used to hearing had stopped. It was as if all the animals, aside from Wolf, had fled. Suddenly, Wolf stood up, turned so that he was facing outward, and stepped over Sully's body. He started to snarl at something Sully couldn't see.

Chills ran down Sully's spine. "Who's there?" he called. The fire went out, and the world around him darkened.

"You can't have her," a voice said, as if something caught by the wind. "You're mine, Byron Sully."

Sully sat straight up. He knew that voice. "Abigail?" he said weakly. The stars had gone out and the moon was hiding.

"You gave her my house, she can't have you, too!"

Sully felt a shiver of foreboding; he couldn't see his hand in front of his face. It was darker than it had been in the cave-in when he'd still been a miner. He rolled to his feet and started to run back to the homestead, grateful that he could find his way there even blind. "C'mon, boy," he said, motioning to Wolf.

Wolf whined, but trotted behind him at his heels.

Sully ran as fast as he could, jumping ravines and hurdling over branches. He missed a few, misjudging where they were in the total darkness. He skidded to a halt in front of the porch and ran up the steps. Without knocking, he burst through the door. "Michaela? he called.

"Sully," Michaela said, sounding relieved. She had been backed into a wall. There were scratches on her face and hands. Before either one could say anything else, the picture that had fallen once picked itself up and flew across the room.

Slowly, a recognizable shadow appeared. "Abigail," Sully breathed, shocked. With a few long strides, he crossed the room and stood protectively in front of Michaela.

"She can't have you!" Abigail pointed her finger at them. "She has everything else, and I have nothing!"

Michaela peered out from behind him. "You're gone," she said.

"NO, I'M NOT!" the ghost screamed. Her eyes narrowed. "Perhaps you will be." The temperature in the room dropped to the point that Sully was surprised that icicles weren't growing from the rafters. The curtain separating the children's sleeping area slid aside and the covers flew off Brian. The little boy started to shiver and pull in on himself when huge, angry, bleeding scratches appeared on his chest.

"MA!" Brian screamed, tears pouring down his face. "It HURTS!"

"Brian!" Michaela ran over to check her son. "Sully, get my bag!"

Without a word, Sully grabbed her bag and gave it to her before running outside to get water. He'd been around Dr. Mike long enough to know exactly what she'd need. He hurried back inside, poured some of the water into a basin, and brought it to her. She nodded her thanks, distracted by the bloody gashes on her son's chest. "He's going to need stitches," she said, trying to comfort Brian and examine his injuries at the same time.

The noise must have woken Colleen, because she came out from behind her own curtain, rubbing her eyes. "Ma?" she said sleepily. She must have caught sight of the blood because her eyes widened, "what happened?"

Sully took Brian's face in his hands and turned the little boy's head so that he was looking at him, gently wiping away tears. "Can you do something for me, Brian?" he asked.

Brian sniffed, still crying. "What?" he asked.

"Can you be brave for me and your Ma?" Sully asked quietly. The room had gradually been warming up, creeping back to the normal temperature.

"Yeah," Brian said, his breath hitching in his throat.

"Colleen, I need you to help me," Michaela said. She grabbed a bottle of chloroform from her bag and a rag and handed it over.

Quietly, Colleen accepted it and used it to put Brian to sleep. "Is he gonna be okay?" she asked.

Sully helped lay Brian down and without a word, started stripping off Brian's torn, tattered, and bloody nightshirt. Once he'd finished, he tossed it in a nearby laundry basket and stood up. "I'll go check on Matthew."

"Sully?" Michaela's voice stopped him.

"Yeah?" he turned around to face her.

"Thank you."

"Ain't nothin' ta thank me for," Sully left the room and headed for the barn. Quickly, he checked on Matthew, who was still asleep, walked outside, and sat down on the edge of the porch. "Abigail?" he said softly.

A freezing cold blast of air blew leaves past his face. He shivered a little, pulling his coat closer around himself. "Abigail?" he tried again.

She appeared in front of him, every detail of what he saw was how he remembered her, the first time they met. "She can't have you," the ghost said again.

"You're not my Abby," Sully said softly. "The Abigail I know would never hurt a child... let alone my son."

The ghost clenched her fists and glared at him. "He ain't your son!" she yelled. "He's hers. She's got everythin' and I've got nothin'!"

Sully swallowed, hard. "You're dead, Abigail," he whispered. "I've spent years mourning ya and Hanna. Now I'm finally starting ta heal, an' I've found me what I hope'll be my new family, an' ya wanna take that from me? That ain't fair!"

The wind picked up and started to howl. "It ain't fair?" Abigail glared at him. "What ain't fair is that ya gave my house ta her! What ain't fair is that I never got ta hold our daughter! What ain't fair is that Hanna never got to play on that horse ya started ta make for her!"

Wolf came out from under the porch where he'd been hiding and snarled at the apparition. Sully laid his hand on Wolf's back. "It ain't fair that you an' Hanna died," he agreed softly. "I failed you. If we'd had somebody like Dr. Mike, maybe ya would'a survived... but maybe ya wouldn't. I don't know. But I think th' two of ya could'a been friends."

"NO!" The wind began to blow again.

Wolf moved forward, walking between Sully and the ghost, still snarling.

"Easy, boy," Sully said. "Ya could'a. Maybe not. Th's two of ya don't have much in common... But Michaela and th' kids are my second chance, Abigail. We ain't even courted yet. I don't know if we'll ever git married an' be a real family." He rested his hand on the wolf's back.

"But ya love her," Abigail accused. "You're gonna forget all about me."

"Yes," Sully said quietly. "I'd die for her and those kids if I had to... but I'd rather live for 'em. I ain't never gonna forget ya, Abigail. Part of me will always love you."

Abigail's face took on a childlike appearance. "Ya still love me?"

Sully nodded slowly. "You're dead," he whispered again. "I can't spend th' rest of my life mourning you and Hanna. I don't wanna spend th' rest of my life bein' alone! You talk about not fair? How fair has it been for me? My parents dead when I was a boy, you and Hanna dyin', and now you're tryin' to take my future away. You can't do that, Abigail Bray Sully. You can't."

"You're right," the ghost said softly, with what looked like tears running down her face. "I'll leave you be." She faded from sight and disappeared.

Sully hid his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes. Fatigue settled over him like a blanket, but he couldn't leave; he had to know that Brian would be all right. Wolf finally settled down, bounded up the steps, and licked his face, bowling him over and climbing on to his chest like an overgrown puppy. "Stop it, boy!"

Wolf sat back and gave him a canine grin before getting down and curling up beside him on the porch. Sully sat up leaned against the hitching post. He loved Michaela. He knew that. It had taken him a long time to admit it to himself, but it was true. He hadn't even told her... not in so many words, anyway. It was just-in his dreams, he could see them together sometimes. All of them, and a couple more children, and little girl and a little boy... both with her eyes. It was a good dream; one he was willing to fight for. One he was willing to sacrifice for.

Sully sighed, stood up, and went inside. Colleen and Michaela were bandaging Brian up. "Is he gonna be okay?" he asked softly.

"He'll be fine." Michaela washed the blood off her hands.

Sully walked over and caressed Brian's hair. "She ain't comin' back," he said abruptly.

"Good," Michaela shivered, so he opened his arms and she moved into them for a hug.

"So what happened?" Colleen asked again.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" Michaela asked softly.

Colleen bit her lip. "They're just stories, aren't they?"

"I useta think so," Sully said.

"Me, too... but not anymore." Michaela murmured.

Brain began to stir. "Ma-Mama!" tears began to run down the little boy's face. "It hurts!"

Sully kissed Michaela's forehead. "You go sit in the rocking chair and I'll get 'im," he said.

Tiredly, Michaela walked over and slumped into the rocking chair. Sully carefully picked Brian up, mindful that any wrong movement would tear the stitches.

Brian opened his eyes a little. "Sully?" he choked out.

Sully kissed the little boy's head. "I'm here."

"I want Mama," Brian said tearfully.

"I'll take you to her," Sully said soothingly. He gently put Brian on Michaela's lap, and the little boy snuggled into her, wiping his tears on her blouse and laying his head on her chest so that he could hear her heartbeat.

"It hurts, Ma," he said.

"I know, sweetheart," Michaela said. "Colleen put some willow bark tea on to brew. It's going to be okay-it won't even leave a scar." Her arms came up to wrap around the child, holding him close to her.

Sully reached out and took her right hand in both of his and kissed it. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Michaela looked up at him, tears shimmering in her eyes. "It's just-"

"I know," he said. "When they hurt, you hurt." He felt that way about both Michaela and the kids. He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. "Did Colleen help clean your scratches?" he asked softly.

She nodded.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple, then hesitated and kissed her again-a soft, chaste kiss on the lips. "I'll go help Colleen clean up."

Michaela smiled a little, and then refocused on Brian. Silently, Colleen brought over a cup of tea, seemingly deep in thought, and Michaela coaxed Brian into drinking it. In the meantime, Sully helped Colleen clean up the mess. Working together, they stripped the bed and remade it.

"You should go to bed, Colleen," Sully murmured. "You've got school tomorrow."

"It's really gone?" Colleen pushed her slightly tangled blonde hair over her shoulder and yawned.

"It's gone," Sully said reassuringly. "It ain't coming back."

"Good." Colleen climbed into her bed.

Sully pulled up the blankets and tucked them around her. Colleen curled up on her side and her breathing started to deepen. "Sully?" she said, sounding half asleep.

"Yeah?" he smoothed her hair back from her face.

"I wish you were my Pa."

Sully leaned down and pressed a kiss into her hair. "Me, too, Colleen, me, too." He went back into the living area, drawing the curtains closed behind himself. Quietly, he crossed the room, picked up the empty teacup, and went to wash it out. It only took a few minutes to do, and in the meantime, both Michaela and Brian had fallen asleep. Briefly, he thought about putting Brian to bed, but decided against it.

Sully pulled the extra quilt off the bed and covered them with it, then let Wolf in. Wolf curled up next to the banked fire as he secured the door and turned down the lamps. He grabbed another blanket and settled down next to Wolf to keep watch over them. Even if he and Michaela only remained the best of friends, in his heart, this was his family. And he would keep them safe.

End.