AN: This story begins differently than a story I would normally write. It was born from two things, a comment by Joe himself, where he said his idea for a reunion movie would be that M&S had 'grown apart', divorced, and were living apart from each other. That, of course, was unacceptable to me. But one day a comment was posted in a thread on the US forum about the second movie, where a member mentioned that she hated the end of the movie because it left us with a vision of an 'inconsolable Michaela'. That struck a chord with me. If she was inconsolable...even beyond her wonderful Sully's power to comfort her, then...

So now, I present...

TRAGIC MISUNDERSTANDINGS

By Linda Ellen

January 2014

Even the most magnificent of loves, the most remarkable joining of hearts, can fall prey to a misunderstanding if they are not careful. Be diligent, lest the unthinkable happen...

PROLOGUE

On a high cliff in a picturesque setting, a lone figure stood staring down at the majestic waterfall and the sparkling water of the large pond into which it fell.

Waterfalls reminded him of her. As did standing on the edge of a cliff. As did the shrill call of a hawk to its mate...

Everything reminded him of her.

He swallowed, gritting his teeth against the now familiar pain...the pain of the memories, the longing...the love he had thought was a gift from the spirits. The song of his heart he had thought would never end.

Some days were worse than others. Some days the agony was more than he could bear and all he wanted to do was hole up in a cave somewhere wallowing in his misery. Some days he could go about his work, concentrate on his responsibilities, and not have something unexpected cause his breath to catch, his eyes to fill, and to suffer that feeling of a giant hand reaching inside his chest and squeezing his heart – like it was doing just then. Some days he could almost function. He could almost breathe.

But the nights. Oh the nights. They were still torture. Not once in all this time had he actually gotten a full night's sleep. Not once had he enjoyed the beauty of Yellowstone, or being one with nature and sleeping under the stars, as he had before he knew her.

She haunted him. Her face, her eyes, her voice, her scent, her touch...and the memories of thousands of nights of the most incredible loving any couple could ever experience together. Standing there, he truly didn't know how much longer he could go on without some relief - without something changing.

But it was beyond his control.

He had prayed to the spirits many times over the months, and even tried performing a vision quest, but it was like they had turned their backs on him and refused to answer his agonized pleas. He felt alone and bereft – more so than he ever had, because now he knew what he was missing. He had gone from being the happiest man on earth to the most miserable soul to ever draw breath. His arms ached to hold her. His lips longed to meld with hers. He wanted so badly to hear her voice again call his name in that special way that only she could. But above all that, his soul felt empty, left in shambles as if its most essential part had been savagely ripped away.

Nothing can take her place. Nothing ever will. That thought made a shiver course through his body, in spite of the sunshine bearing down on his head and the warmth of his buckskin jacket.

The beauty of the waterfall faded from his sight as images arose to the forefront of his mind and he allowed himself the pleasure and pain of reminiscing. The sight of her beautiful hair flowing in the breeze as she ran, laughing, and he pursued...the image of her lying beneath him, her eyes so full of desire, as he made passionate love to her...the memory of her holding their daughter, nursing her at her breast, and the look of amazement she sent him as their eyes met...pictures of her standing proud in front of one crowd or another, delivering a heartfelt plea, her beauty, her passion and poise breathtaking to behold...

Who knows how long he stood there, staring down unseeing at the roiling water below. The rustling of the wind in the leaves was not needed to cover the sound of silent feet approaching. Another lone figure stopped within reach, staring at the buckskin covered back, and wondering why his presence was not immediately acknowledged. Puzzled, the figure smiled indulgently.

"Haho, my brother," a very familiar voice murmured from just a few feet behind him. Sully sucked in a breath and whirled to find the beloved face of Cloud Dancing smiling that familiar serene and heart-warming smile.

"What are you doin' here?" Sully rasped, even as he stepped forward and enveloped his brother in a fierce, almost desperate hug.

Cloud Dancing returned the embrace, momentarily clasping his younger brother tightly in his arms before stepping back to gaze into the familiar blue eyes. The Indian's smile immediately faded, however, when he saw up close the same thing he had seen in his vision. He had hoped and prayed that the vision had been wrong, but quite obviously it had not been. The medicine man's eyes now took in the condition of the man who was closer to him than any brother. Sully's sky blue eyes were bloodshot, their expression one of acute agony. His hair was long and straggly, as if he had totally stopped caring about it, and even contained wisps of gray. His beard had grown long and wild. His clothes were dirty, stained, and ripped in places – and hung loose on his frame. Cloud Dancing was greatly alarmed, and he wondered why the spirits had not spoken to him sooner, before things had gotten this bad for his friend.

Schooling his features, the Cheyenne spoke softly, "The spirits told me in a dream that I was to find you. They sent me here. They told me that you are hurting..." he paused as Sully closed his eyes and turned his head. Gripping his friend's arms, Cloud Dancing urged him to meet his eyes. This time they were guarded with self-preservation. "What has happened, my brother?"

Sully clamped his lips, unsure if he could even talk about it without breaking down - and right then, the last thing he needed was to break down again, for he wasn't sure he would have any strength left afterwards. But he knew if he opened his mouth, Cloud Dancing would see through any ruse.

"When Dorothy and I saw you before the snows fell, and I questioned you about the sadness in your eyes, you told me you had been unwell. When I pressed you for more, you would not speak of it. When we were last in Colorado Springs, Loren Bray said that you are often away on work for your government...what is it, Sully? Why are you away so often?"

Sully shut his eyes once more, his control over his emotions crumbling like dust. Oh why did Cloud Dancing have to pick a day to come and find him when he was at the bottom of the well? When the pendulum of his emotions was at the farthest swing?

"Sully! Has something happened to Michaela? To Katie, or Brian?" the concerned Indian demanded, giving his friend's arms a firm shake.

Finally, Sully took in a deep breath and opened his eyes, meeting the black, piercing gaze of his friend. What Cloud Dancing saw then in the blue depths made him suck in a breath. Never had he seen such pain in those eyes - not even when they had first met so long ago, when Sully had been at the end of his rope, half dead in the woods and mourning his tragic action and the death of his first wife and child.

Swallowing dryly, Sully opened his mouth, but at first no words came. Then hoarsely, he whispered, "Michaela...she sent me away."