A Family Apart

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: This AU came about in a couple ways. 1) What if Lillian hadn't changed her mind and given the kids back and 2) Why wasn't Grandma Quinn notified? It's entirely possible that she could have known someone or done something to help! So this little story spins off the timeline at Cooper VS Quinn. Also, for the purposes of this story, Lillian's father isn't dead... yet. To be honest, it could be either way, because at times, they talk about him in present tense as if he's not dead. They know of the terms of the will, and Ethan figures that he'll kick the bucket at any time.

I'm a history nut. And I especially love fashion history. I have done and will continue to do research to try an assure historical accuracy, which was one of the things that they played fast and loose with on the series. My thanks to my beta readers, Jenni Debbage and Wendy Scott.

Chapter 1:

Backlash

"I am a great believer in found families and I'm not a great believer in blood. Although I love my family, even the ones I grew up with, to me I've always felt that the people who treated you with respect and included you in their lives were your family and the people who were related to you by blood might happen to be those people but that correlation was a lot less strong than society believes it is."

- Joss Whedon

Matthew watched as Ethan and Lillian drove away with his baby brother and sister. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right - Ethan had abandoned them twice, and even when he'd been around, he had not really been there. Sully had been more their father than Ethan ever had. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around his mother. She pulled away, into herself. "I need to go to the clinic," she said woodenly. "I have a lot of work to do." Without another word, she swiftly walked away.

Matthew turned to Sully. "What are we gonna do now?" he asked.

"Nothin'," Sully said bleakly. "Th' appeal was turned down."

Matthew stuffed his hands into his pockets. "But there's gotta be somethin'," he protested. "Colleen and Brian belong with us!"

Sully laid his hand on Matthew's shoulder. "I know," he said. "But there ain't." His hand dropped down to his side as if he couldn't support it anymore.

Slowly, the two men started down the street, Matthew kicking a rock that ended up there. "It ain't right," Matthew muttered. "He signed the adoption paperwork, and I was there when you and Dr. Mike filed it."

"I know," Sully was silent for a few minutes. "The paperwork's a mite different for you, 'cause you're of age, but he signed that, too, and can't change his mind... an' you need ta sign it, too. Ya also git to decide if ya wanna change your name."

Matthew took off his hat and wiped his face with a handkerchief, using the movement to disguise the fact that he had tears in his eyes. He'd been a Cooper his entire life; his middle and last names told the world who his father was. But at the same time... Ethan had never been the father any of them wanted or deserved. But ever since they'd moved to Colorado Springs in 1859 and Sully and Charlotte had become friends, Sully had been filling that role. It was Sully who'd taught him to be a man. Sully who took him hunting and fishing. Sully who'd given him advice about girls and taught him the right way to treat a woman. "If ya give me the paperwork, I'll sign it," he said finally, as he put his hat back on.

"It's at the clinic," Sully said. "we'll git it later an' send it in."

Matthew, who had already felt like crying, rubbed his hand across his eyes. "Colleen told me she screamed at Ethan that you're our Pa... an' it's true. Lillian can't never replace our mother... either one of 'em. Took me a long time to accept it, but Ma is Dr. Mike now. Lillian can try, but..."

"No, she can't replace her," Sully agreed. "Ethan made Michaela look like a bad mother as best as he could."

"Only sorta worked," he said gruffly. "Ma did more to take care of us in the last two years than Ethan did in the last seventeen," Matthew said bitterly. "She made sure we had what we needed even when it meant she did without. All those times she was workin' instead of bein' with us was so that she had the money to keep us; we all knew that... th' rest was tryin' ta make life better for us. And you've been a better Pa to us than he ever was; you're our father in every way that really counts."

"Ya gonna be okay?" Sully asked quietly.

"Guess so," Matthew looked at Sully and noticed, for the first time, the unshed tears in the older man's eyes. "You?"

Sully shrugged. "Your Ma and you kids are everything ta me," he admitted. "An' we're all hurtin' right now."

Matthew looked down again. "Does Grandma know?" he asked suddenly.

Sully shook his head. "Michaela didn't want to worry her," he paused. "I'd best go see to your Ma - she needs us right now."

Matthew scuffed the toe of his boot into the dirt. "I know," he said. "I'll be along - after I send a telegram to Grandma, 'cause she needs to know." He didn't say it, of course, but he knew his grandmother knew people; people with, for lack of a better word, pull. If anything could be done to bring his siblings home, Grandma would help.

"Reckon you're right," Sully said quietly. "Elizabeth will want ta know."

Matthew nodded and started towards the telegraph office, but changed his mind and headed towards the Mercantile instead. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sully start back towards the clinic. It didn't take long for Matthew to purchase a few sheets of paper, an envelope, and a pencil.

He didn't say much of anything to Loren, who seemed to want to treat him with a kind of rough sympathy. Quickly, he headed to the post office and with a nod to Horace, used the counter to write the letter. He finished it quickly, folded it, stuffed it in the envelope, and addressed it. "I need ta mail this, Horace," Matthew said. "An' I need ta send a telegram to Mrs. Elizabeth Quinn, number 10 Mount Vernon Street, Boston, Massachusetts.

Elizabeth Quinn sat down heavily on the settee as she read the telegram. It mentioned a letter to follow that would explain everything in detail. But with the speed - or lack of it - of the mail, there wasn't time to waste. This could not stand. Colleen and Brian were Michaela's children - her grandchildren. It hadn't mattered to her after that first meeting that they weren't blood related. Part of her felt that those three were the only grandchildren she would have from her youngest simply because Michaela had put off marrying for so long.

Elizabeth pursed her lips, got up and went upstairs to the study where her desk was. After a few minutes of rummaging inside it, she removed a stack of letters, which had been bound together with a silk ribbon left from Michaela's childhood. She tucked them under her arm, stood, and walked over to her husband's favorite chair. She'd always felt closer to Josef sitting there, and she felt she needed his strength now. Surprisingly, their separation had been good for her relationship with Michaela. Josef had claimed that they were too much alike, and Elizabeth acknowledged to herself that it was probably true. Both were strong, opinionated, independent-minded women. With a little sigh, she opened the first letter and scanned it. She didn't remember, exactly, when it had been written - sometime during the first year Michaela had lived in Colorado Springs was as close as she could get.

After what seemed like hours, but was in reality only about 45 minutes, she found the letter. It was as she remembered. Quickly, she stacked the letters again and tied them together - it was quite a bundle - Michaela had written her on average of once a week for the past two years. The stack of letters contained her daughter's struggle to become her grandchildren's mother. All of it was there - Brian's accident, Colleen's frostbite, and even Matthew's courting of Ingrid. All their struggles, joys, and heartaches were in those letters. And the one she'd been looking for - Ethan Cooper's second abandonment of his family.

As Elizabeth pulled some of her personal stationary towards her, picked up her pen, and dipped it into the inkwell, she hoped that their old friend would be able to do something for her. After all, Mr. Chase and her husband, Josef, had been friends. She wasn't sure, exactly, where and when Josef and Sal had managed to become friends, but their friendship had been a firmly established fact when she and Josef had married. So much so that he was Rebecca's and Maureen's godfather. And since Sal was now a Supreme Court Justice, if anyone could help her, he would be the one.

"Dear Sal," she wrote. "It has been quite some time since you and your lovely wife visited..."

Michaela hurried into the clinic, shutting the door behind her. She wanted to scream and throw things. She wanted... she wanted to cry. It shouldn't matter so much. She hadn't given birth to them. Hadn't known what to do with them or even particularly wanted them to start with, and they'd only been with her for two years. But she'd fallen in love. They'd become so much a part of her that sometimes she looked at them and saw them as babies - her babies. In fact, sometimes she was a little jealous that Charlotte had had them from the beginning and felt cheated that she'd missed a huge chunk of their lives. Damn them! How could Ethan and Lillian do this to her? To the children.

And now... now she finally understood the Cheyenne mourning custom of cutting oneself. Now, she felt such pain and sorrow that it was almost too great to be borne. Her children had practically been ripped from her arms, and knowing that they were still out there - somewhere - almost made it worse. Instinctively, she knew that physical pain would be easier to bear than the emotional anguish. Physical pain was something she could do something about. This - there was nothing she could do, nothing she could fix. Her legs started to shake, so Michaela steadied herself against the exam table.

The door to the Clinic opened, and then shut behind her. "Dr. Mike?" Grace's voice came from the direction of the door, but she didn't bother to look. "Michaela?"

"I lost them," Michaela's voice was barely audible. "Charlotte entrusted them to me... my babies. They're gone. He, they... took them from me!"

"I know," Grace's voice was quiet, and Michaela felt a hand stroking her hair. "I been where you are, Michaela," she said. "I had children that I loved and cared for taken from me and sold away. Didn't matter that they wassn't mine by blood - that I wassn't their mother - they was mine, an' I mourned 'em." Grace wrapped her arms around her, offering comfort.

Shakily, Michaela started to cry, and Grace's embrace tightened. "Let it out, honey," she murmured. "I been where you are. I know."

"I know they were Charlotte's first, but -"

The door opened and shut again and light-sounding footsteps crossed the wooden floor. Tears fell so fast and hard Michaela couldn't really see through them. She felt, rather than saw, someone settle on the cot next to her. Another arm wrapped around her shoulders and another hand stroked her hair. "The judge is a fool," Dorothy's voice said. "It ain't fair, an' it ain't right... but you don't have ta go through this alone. Grace an' me are here, an' Sully is comin' and we all love ya, Michaela."

Michaela didn't answer. She didn't know what to say. It didn't matter at the moment that she and Sully were to marry in a few months and then could start attempting to add to their family. Colleen and Brian wouldn't be there. She doubted Ethan and Lillian would allow it. "I want my children back," she whispered finally, tears running down her face. "I feel so helpless; I couldn't stop him. We never should've tried to adopt them... or we should have put those ads in the Boston Post and the Chicago Sun Times where there was no chance of his seeing them."

Neither Grace nor Dorothy said anything. Instead, they simply were there, lending support. The door opened again and this time, Michaela looked up with eyes that were still filled with tears to see Sully walking in. Wordlessly, he came over and opened his arms to her. She stood up and walked into them. He held her close, tucked her head under his chin and rocked her back and forth for a while. She knew he was crying, too, from the way he was breathing, and she could feel dampness of his tears in her hair. "I ain't gonna promise ya that everything's gonna be okay," he said hoarsely. "I ain't gonna say all th'things that people're gonna be sayin' ta us. But I love you. An' you, me, an' Matthew are still gonna be a family, an' we'll get through this." Grace and Dorothy must've felt as if they were intruding, because they left. The two of them lapsed into silence, holding each other and taking comfort from one another's presence.

Finally, after an indeterminate amount of time, they pulled slightly apart. Michaela pulled a handkerchief out of the pocket of her coat and used it to wipe away both of their tears. Sully drew her close again, and placed a loving kiss on her temple. "I promised Snowbird I'd go to the Reservation this afternoon to check on my patients there," Michaela said finally.

Sully nodded and released her. "I'll git Matthew and we'll hitch up th' wagon."

"Matthew will want to spend time with Ingrid," Michaela said.

"I know. But you an' me can go together, an' I'll tell Matthew he's welcome ta come along," Sully said.

Michaela reached for Sully's hand and threaded her fingers through his. Part of her was shocked by her own forwardness, but she didn't care - she needed the contact, the loving touches, just to remind herself she wasn't alone.

Sully must have sensed it - or perhaps it was because he knew her so well. He kissed her gently. "I ain't goin' nowhere, 'Chaela," he promised. "You git your bag, and we'll leave - together."

Michaela drew in a deep breath and nodded. It was a struggle, but with the ease of long practice, she brought her emotions under tight control, and then went to grab what she needed. While she was gathering, Sully left to go get the wagon. She wanted to start crying again, but she had years and years of training to fall back on - she'd been taught her entire life that one did not show emotion in public; it was improper and thus not done. Emotional displays had always been frowned upon and considered outside the range of proper behavior allowable in Boston society. She fell back on that now, just to function. Holding her bag tightly, she opened the door, hung the 'Closed' sign, locked up, and went to join Sully.

Somehow, they'd manage. Somehow, she would learn to live without Colleen and Brian. Somehow, she would stop missing them. Somehow, she would stop mourning them. Somehow, she would forget that for a far too short two years, she had been the mother to two wonderful, amazing, bright, intelligent children. Somehow...

Brian and Colleen stood on the back of the caboose, watching the tracks under the train. "Ethan don't care 'bout us," Colleen said softly. "Neither does Lillian; not really. Bet it's about money. Usually is with him."

Brian looked up at her. "I want Mama," he said. "I want Sully an' Matthew."

Colleen crouched down and hugged her little brother. "Me, too," she said. "Ethan an' Lillian aren't our parents and nothin' they can do will change my mind."

Brian swiped his arm across his face. "I wanted him ta come back," he whispered. "I prayed for it... I wish God had said no." His lower lip trembling, he looked at Colleen. "I think I'm mad at God," he said finally.

A sudden lurch threw Colleen against the railings, Hastily, she stood up. "Don't be mad at God, Brian," she said. "This ain't God's fault; it's Ethan's and Lillian's. If you wanna be mad at somebody, be mad at them!"

Brian looked down at his feet and scuffed the toe of his shoe into the metal grating. "I guess," he said. "What are we gonna do? Runnin' away didn't work so good."

"We didn't have any place to go." Colleen tucked her hands under her arms. "Ma and Pa said that them takin' us away wouldn't do any good," she said slowly, an idea still forming. "An' we didn't have a real good plan to run away before... What if you'n me get some sort of work until we can manage to buy tickets to Boston? I've been savin' up, anyway to help pay my way through college.. you know Ma's been givin' me money for helpin' in the clinic."

"I've got a little money; that mechanical bank Grandma gave me is almost full," Brian admitted, "an' th' one Miss Olive gave me is full, but I bet it's nowhere near enough for train tickets. And they'd look for us at Grandma's!"

"So we don't go to Grandma's house... We go see Aunt Rebecca instead. Uncle Richard's a lawyer, ain't he?" She held tight to the railing.

"I think so. But we don't really know Aunt Rebecca," Brian protested.

"Remember, I was havin' tea at the same time as Ma and her sisters," Colleen reminded him. "Aunt Claudette, Aunt Marjorie, and Aunt Maureen were givin' Ma a hard time, but Aunt Rebecca wasn't. She might help."

Brian stared at the passing countryside. "I saw tears in Mama's eyes, Colleen," he said softly. "We made her cry."

Colleen shook her head. "No, they did," she said. "It's you'n me against them, Brian. We can't breathe a word of our plans to anybody, or they'll stop us."

A look of determination came over the little boy's face. "We can do this," he said. "Ma says that if you put your mind to something..."

"Anything is possible," Colleen finished. "Let's get inside 'fore we fall off the back of the train." Together, they walked inside, determined that somehow, they'd go home. Home to their real family.

Michaela and Snowbird walked through the village, stopping occasionally to talk to patients or check on someone's condition. "Something has happened, Michaela," Snowbird said softly. "I can tell by the way you both look."

Michaela swallowed, hard, closed her eyes, and wrapped her arms around herself. "The children's father showed up and took them away."

Snowbird looked a little confused. "He has divorced you, then?" she asked. "I thought you were to marry my husband's brother."

"I am." Michaela shook her head and a wry smile crossed her face. "I never told you how the children came into my care," she said. "Their father abandoned the family when Brian was a baby... and when their mother died two years ago, she gave them to me."

The confusion on Snowbird's face cleared. "So you have lost all three..."

"Matthew is of age," Michaela said softly. "Ethan couldn't make him leave."

"I, too, have lost children," Snowbird said quietly.

"I know," Michaela swallowed, hard, remembering Walks On Cloud's death. "I was there when One Eye murdered your son."

There was sorrow in Snowbird's eyes. "He is not the first child I have lost," she said. "But someday, I will see all of them again. Your children - they are still alive?"

"I hope so," Michaela said. "I won't know until I get a letter or telegram from them - if Ethan allows it. Sully and I were trying to adopt them, to make them ours legally," she said. "He agreed... and then changed his mind," she finished bitterly. "And now we've lost them - I've lost them." She stuffed her hands into her pockets. "I don't trust their father."

"There is still hope," Snowbird said. She stopped and gestured towards Sully and Cloud Dancing. "I have seen the same look on Cloud Dancing's face when we lost a child." She seemed to hesitate for a few minutes. "Because they are men, there are some things they do not understand - they are not women; they are not mothers."

Michaela's eyes strayed towards Sully. "I know he loves the children," her voice was soft, almost inaudible. "The adoption was his idea, and he's been a good father to them, but -"

Snowbird laid her hand on Michaela's shoulder. "It was you who made them clothing, took care of them when they were sick or hurt, taught them, cooked for them..."

"Sometimes with mixed results," Michaela admitted wryly.

"They love their children, but they are not mothers, " Snowbird said, "we are."

"Mothers without children," Michaela murmured.

"Our children are gone, but that does not change what and who we are," Snowbird said gently. She wrapped her arms around Michaela and hugged her. Michaela hugged her back. "We have known much loss, you and I, but we are still here."

"The government has done the both of us more harm than good," Michaela muttered. "I just wish that they could see that we have more in common than we have differences."

The two women stood in silence for a few minutes. "So how many horses did he offer your family for you?" Snowbird asked finally.

For a second, Michaela didn't know what her friend was talking about, but then she remembered the Cheyenne custom of giving horses to the family of the bride. It was, she supposed, a form of bride price. "He... didn't," she offered finally.

Snowbird frowned. "Cloud Dancing gave my father six horses for me. You... your family should receive at least seven, maybe eight!"

"I doubt my mother would understand... or know what to do with the horses," Michaela said. "And why should he offer more for me than Cloud Dancing did for you?" For the first time since the children had been taken, she felt like laughing, at least a little.

Snowbird didn't answer that one. Instead, she shook her head and smiled. "The horses should go to your father's people."

Michaela smiled, too. "Uncle Teddy wouldn't know what to do with them, either."

"Men!" Snowbird crossed her arms over her chest.

A thought crossed Michaela's mind. "I wanted to make Sully a gift for the wedding, but..."

"It is not the kind of sewing you have done before, is it?" Snowbird asked.

"No, it's not," Michaela admitted.

Snowbird smiled. "It is sometimes best to keep busy. Come, I will teach you," she said. "I will teach you what you need to know to make a wedding present for my brother-in-law... and perhaps more."

"Are you sure?" Michaela asked hesitantly.

"Cloud Dancing adopted Sully as his brother," Snowbird said quietly. "They could not be closer if they had been born to the same mother." She hesitated, and then continued. "You are my friend... a very good friend, and I see no reason why I should not do the same... sister."

"Thank you!" Michaela gave Snowbird a tentative hug. "I used to have only one sister that accepts me... now I have two."

Snowbird started towards her tipi. "First we need to ask my husband to catch a porcupine for us for quills..."

Michaela welcomed the distraction of planning. She had found a balm there, and while she was still devastated by the children's... abduction, she felt better able to cope.

"Haáahe," Sully reached out and clasped his brother's arm.

Haáahe," Cloud Dancing returned the gesture. "It did not go well," he stated..

Sully dropped to the ground. "No," he said. "They ain't dead, but it feels worse than losin' Hannah... Maybe 'cause I bin helpin' raise 'em... longer history with them than with my baby." He pulled one knee up and rested his arm on it. "We lost 'em, anyway, sure as if they were."

Cloud Dancing dropped down to sit beside him, and the two men sat in silence. They didn't need words - the presence of their brother was enough. They sat together for some time until Sully broke the silence. "Michaela's with Snowbird. Figured she could use another woman ta talk to."

"It will work out, my brother," Cloud Dancing said quietly.

"Spirits tell ya that?" Sully asked, looking off into the distance.

"No," Cloud Dancing's answer was soft. "I have not asked. But I have faith. You and Michaela are their family."

"I know." Sully picked up a stick and started to break it into small pieces. "I'm tired of my family being taken from me."

"We are still your family, little brother," Cloud Dancing said gently. "And you will marry Michaela." He clasped Sully's shoulder and Sully clasped his in return.

"Yes." Sully fell silent, his hand dropping from his brother's shoulder. The two men sat quietly, listening to the world around them, saying nothing. The silence spoke for them, providing much needed salve for their aching hearts.

TBC...