Chapter 14:

Sully led Michaela through the maze of empty corridors to the back of the hospital, to the garden where they had first met. His hand at the small of her back, he guided her gently to the small, rusted bench in the centre and stood before her, waiting as she mechanically seated herself. She had still not spoken and Sully gazed worriedly at her blank, expressionless face. The fire that had ignited in her eyes as the pain poured from her soul had petered out, leaving behind two hollows that cast out darkened beams, dousing her whole face in shadow. The warm rays of sunlight that showered the garden seemed unable to penetrate the icy cage that surrounded her and as Sully watched, her body continued to shiver and shake. Hastily removing his fringed jacket, he placed it carefully around her shoulders, pulling the edges close under her chin in an attempt to shield her from the apparent cold. Yet she remained motionless, seemingly oblivious of her surroundings. Sully moved to sit beside her and turning towards her, he attempted to engage her attention.

"Dr Mike?" he called soothingly, as though speaking to a frightened child. She did not respond yet Sully detected a flicker of interest dart across her marble hewn features.

"Dr Mike," he repeated, this time a little louder, "are you alright?"

Slowly and very quietly, as though every word sapped the strength from her soul, she spoke, her voice tremulous as she continued to shiver despite the heavy jacket.

"Is…..is that…what they call me….?"

"Yeh," replied Sully, inwardly relieved that she had not entirely withdrawn into herself as she was so often prone to do, "s'what folks back in Colorado call ya"

Michaela gave an almost imperceptible nod and encouraged by her albeit meagre response, Sully continued.

"Ya always said your father thought you'd be a boy so he called ya Mike. The name sorta stuck."

"And what about you Sully" asked Michaela curiously, turning her head for the first time to meet his glance, "what do you call me?"

Sully dropped his gaze, his heart suddenly racing. The question was quite understandable, but he seemed at a loss as to the answer. It seemed ridiculous that something so simple as how they would address one another struck him so profoundly. Yet to Sully the very fact that he could address Michaela by her first name seemed to epitomise the deep trust that had existed between them, as friends and then lovers, and that set their relationship firmly apart from any other.

Thus it was with a distinctly heavy heart that Sully, without raising his eyes addressed the stranger beside him.

"I call ya Dr Mike too."

A protracted silence filled the garden as both Sully and Michaela sat side by side, two hearts overflowing with emotion, two minds struggling against the past and two souls trying unsuccessfully to shatter the impenetrable wall between them. As they sat, the sounds of nature filling her ears, a single tear crept down Michaela's cheek and dripped miserably onto the leather collar under her chin. Lifting her arm slightly to wipe away the moisture, she struggled to choke back the sob welling at the back of her throat. Her movements however, caught Sully's attention and he turned to face her again, his heart breaking as the sunlight illuminated the thin river glistening along the contours of her cheek. Sensing his eyes on her, Michaela forced back her tears and staring ahead at nothing in particular, voiced a question that had long been haunting her thoughts.

"Why did this have to happen to me? Did I do something wrong, that I'm being punished for?"

"Don't go talkin' like that Dr Mike," interjected Sully fervently, "You aint done nothin' wrong. Sometimes things happen in life that ya just can't control. But you're strong. You're gunna get through this. You're gunna remember."

"But how Sully, how can I possibly hope to remember?" asked Michaela sadly, her tear filled eyes rising to meet his darkened gaze, "There's so much I've lost."

Her voice trailed off, as several glittering beads, fuelled by her sorrow, spilled uncontrollably over her eyelashes.

Sully watched her thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again.

"The Cheyenne say that our first teacher is our own heart," he began softly, "Your heart remembers Dr Mike even if your mind don't. All ya gotta do is listen to your heart."

The power of his words, not least the gentle certainty with which they were spoken touched Michaela's heart and she stared at him for a moment before reaching up to brush away the traces of her tears.

"Tell me about Colorado Sully," she requested, smiling slightly "tell me about my home, please."

The long, black cloak flapped behind him as he made his way surreptitiously down the corridor, pausing every so often to glance into the side rooms, evidently looking for someone. Yet as he passed several rooms without discovering what he sought, frustration began to impress itself on his features. Turning a corner, he noted a well dressed although somewhat rotund gentleman standing alone, writing steadily in a file balanced precariously in his hands. Hastily removing his brushed top hat, the stranger stepped forward, preparing to accost him.

Dr Davis looked up from his notes to see a tall gentleman walking towards him. He was passed middle age, the curling hairs at his temples already heavily speckled with dusky grey. His eyes were a piercing slate under the furrowed brow and despite the creases about his mouth he would undoubtedly have been denoted a handsome man. Even as he curiously surveyed the man before him, the young doctor could not control the frown that darkened his own features. The gentleman seemed strangely familiar.

"Excuse me; I am looking for Dr Quinn. I was told she would be here."

The gentleman's accent was pure when he spoke and clearly reflected the elegance of an upper class upbringing.

"She's not here at the moment" replied Dr Davis, somewhat warily, "I expect she will be back later in the day."

Disappointment immediately coloured the stranger's features but he did not allow it to bow him.

"I see" he said quietly, slowly replacing his hat, "I am very sorry to have disturbed you."

Pulling his cloak tightly around himself and squaring his shoulders, he set off back down the corridor. He had barely gained the corner however, when the voice of the doctor drew his attention and he stopped.

"If you tell me your name Sir, I could inform Dr Quinn of your visit on her return."

Glancing back momentarily, he replied "William, Dr William Burke" before turning aside and disappearing from sight.

The midday sun extended its temperate rays over the occupants of the small garden, engulfing them in a cocoon of comfort and warmth. Silence had once again fallen between them as they sat, motionless beside one another, strings of the past pulling strongly on both hearts.

Michaela was the first to stir. She had listened intently as Sully patiently recounted the memories of her home town, the townsfolk who inhabited it, her patients, her friends. Yet with each passing minute, she had found herself sinking further into despair. Her mind had staunchly resisted her every attempt to pry it open, to delve into its darkened midst until finally she had abandoned hope, simply allowing the waves of despondency to crash unhindered against her soul.

The stillness of the garden seemed almost deafening and in an earnest attempt to curb the frustration building up within her, Michaela clenched her hands into tight fists and without thinking, plunged them into the pockets of Sully's jacket. Her right hand immediately collided with something hard and cold, nestling comfortably against the soft leather lining. Curiously her fingers closed over the object, barely registering the flat, polished surface before withdrawing it from the darkness and as the sunlight gleamed along the brass surface, her eyes widened in surprise.

"I'd forgotten 'bout that."

Sully's voice broke into the torrent of thoughts that were suddenly raging uncontrolled through her mind.

"I picked it up right before I left Colorado. I don't really know why but I figured maybe you might wanna have it with you."

Michaela did not seem to heed his explanation. As if in a reverie, she ran her hand lovingly over the carven words, her eyes dark with memory, a sad smile forming on her face. It was many minutes before the words came, quiet at first and laced with long suppressed grief.

"It ….it was the day of my graduation. I waited in the hallway for so long, hoping, praying that maybe Mother had changed her mind, that perhaps she would come. Or at least send one of my sisters. I heard the professor in the hall stand up; he began to call out the names. I forced myself to go back inside, to follow my friends onto the platform, to collect my certificate. But it meant nothing to me. I had no-one to share it with, I was alone. And then I heard his voice behind me and there he was, standing tall and proud, smiling so happily. He held me close and told me that he had never doubted me, that he had complete faith in me as a doctor, as a daughter. He gave me this."

Sully stared down at the small, brass shingle held tightly in her hand and his eyes travelled across the well remembered words carved into its surface:

M Quinn, MD

"Thank you Sully," whispered Michaela, finally raising her tear filled eyes to meet his, "thank you so much for bringing it back to me."