Before I begin, I just want to give an enormously HUGE thanks to all my readers and all those who have supported me in writing this story. Getting this done was certainly never easy, and at some points down-right near impossible. Thank you for sticking with me and this story. I want to give an extra big thanks first to Renny for being the best editor any duck could ever ask for (even if I have to put up with all your red tape) and also to Lynn for just being AMAZING, and for sticking with me, begrudgingly, after I killed their son. I'm SORRY! Ok, that's it; enjoy the final chapter.
Chapter 26: The Best Kind of Dream
Warm air from a hidden valley brushed the glittering mountain peaks far above, saturating itself on the snow laden inclines. Small droplets tumbled down from the white-layered confines and were picked up by the sultry breeze. Quickly the warmth dissipated from the wind, as cool watery beads mingled with air particles, weighing the current down. Down, down, it rushed; rolling across the rocky cliffs, pushing away the dry heat that lingered beneath the tree branches and brush. A descending whistle announced that the friction from the obstacles was causing the once roaring wind to whittle away; slowly becoming nothing but a cool breeze brushing across the face of a homebound soldier.
Sully shivered ever so slightly, glancing up towards the majestic peaks that loomed above. Other than the crackle of the wagon wheels against the dust on the road, the journey had remained silent. Sully did not mind; in fact he preferred it. He was dreading the time when Robert E. would at last ask for his name, ask why he set out to Colorado Springs in the first place, ask him anything. It was not as though Sully specifically distrusted Robert E.; how could he, when the man was graciously offering him a nearly no-expense necessary ride home? However, Sully did not feel he could express such things to a man he barely knew, despite the tugging feeling in his gut that told him there was a past history. He simply did not know if he could fully answer such questions to himself, let alone a near stranger.
Memories had returned to his mind, and yet he knew they were fragmented; scattered vignettes of events that surely entailed much more than the few words that were spoken. For instance, he knew his name, but not where he was born, where he was from, or where his biological family was. He knew where he needed to go, and yet the reason remained a simple magnetism in his heart and a memory of a promise made so long ago. But how long was 'long ago'? How long had it now been since he had set foot in this town he sought? And this woman, his wife, his 'heartsong'; Michaela. Who was she truly, but the object of his determination? Who was she, but his love? And perhaps the most fearful question that glided in and out of Sully's mind: If so much time had in fact past, who was to say that Michaela would still be there waiting for him? Especially considering he, Sully, was supposedly dead. So many questions, so little answers; he knew the person he was, but not who he was.
"Swing low, sweet chariot. Coming for to carry me home…" Robert E. sang to himself, breaking the silence and Sully's train of thought.
Letting out a soft sigh, Sully focused his attention away from the encumbering thoughts, and back onto the nature surrounding him.
"Sometimes I'm up and sometimes I'm down; coming for to carry me home…"
He became instantly entranced by the blissful environment, gazing at the sun beams which broke through the forest branches, casting heavenly shafts of light onto the forest floor.
"But still my soul feels heavenly bound; coming for to carry me home…"
The rays danced hypnotically with the subtle gusts of wind, which fled through the trees like a restless bee. Everything seemed so peaceful, so beautiful, so…
"So…ya got a name, sir?" Robert E. asked casually, glancing over at his traveling companion, his mind reeling as he tried to recall where he had seen such a marine gaze before.
Sully remained silent, suddenly too distracted to have heard the question at hand.
"Mister…?"
"Shhh…" Sully hushed the man and brought his hand up, silently telling Robert E. to stop the wagon.
Doing as he was instructed, Robert E. quickly pulled back on the reins, letting out a low 'whoa' to command the horses. "What is it?"
Sully placed his index finger against his lips, reinforcing the need for quiet. Peering at the wooded hall that encompassed them, he carefully stepped out of the wagon, shaking his head. After a minute of nothing, not the snap of a twig or fall of a leaf, Sully turned back towards the wagon and Robert E. "I'm sorry…I swore…I swore I saw…" But his voice failed to conclude as he looked up at the brown eyes that seemed to widen with each passing second. "Robert E…?"
"Look out!" The blacksmith cried out, yet it was far too late, as the handle of a knife came slashing toward the back of Sully's head.
Managing to duck just in time to miss a critical blow, Sully twirled around, coming face to face with a heavily tanned man. From the feather that adorned his midnight shroud of hair to the primitive axe and blade that were held at the ready in his palm, no one could mistake the man for anything but an Indian. However, what came to Sully's mind in the moments that followed was not fear or aggression, but a memory of a knowledge forgotten and unused for nearly a year.
"No! Hová'âháne! Nánéehove hóovéhe!" The words slipped across his tongue and through his lips before he dared to stop them. Only seconds would tell whether a memory could be enough to save his life.
"You came back…" She said again, more defiantly.
The young man finally acknowledged her statement with a slight nod, before dropping his gaze; ashamed of the tears that now streamed from his eyes. "I'm sorry…I should of…" He cut off, a sob choking the words in his throat.
Michaela embraced the man softly, as he broke down, crying into her copper locks. Slowly and soothingly she stroked her delicate fingers through his golden hair. "It's alright, Matthew…it's alright…"
His legs were beginning to buckle as he silently shook his head, still unable to speak as sob after sob was emitted from his gut. Michaela felt the young man slowly shifting his weight on her, and she knew she would not be able to hold her strength for much longer. "Here…let's go inside, why don't we…"
Still bearing most of the weight, Michaela led Matthew into the homestead, leaving the gun and candle out in the yard. Awkwardly, she used her free hand to search the heavily shadowed wall for the lantern. "There…" Michaela whispered when her fingers at last gripped the knob and light flooded the room.
Matthew finally released his weight from Michaela's shoulder as he stumbled to the dining table, sinking down into one of the chairs and burying his head in his hands. Michaela ran back outside momentarily to retrieve the gun and light source. Gazing down at the weapon, she felt a rock drop into the pit of her stomach as she considered the consequences that could have occurred had she not dropped the rifle when she did. She pushed past the emotion quickly however, realizing that another was in much greater need of her care; her thoughts of the "what ifs" would keep.
Bolting the door behind her, Michaela leaned the rifle back up against the wall and blew out the candle, "Here, let me get some water boiling and I'll make you a glass of tea…"
Matthew's cries had quieted now to an occasional sniffle, which again he tried to muffle behind his hands. But there was no hiding the tear raked flesh on his face, or bloodshot eyes which gazed up at Michaela as she handed him the warm cup of herbal tea.
"Thank ya…" Matthew whispered politely.
"Of course." Michaela took the seat across from him and began to sip at her own glass of tea. A beat of silence passed between the two, as neither knew how to begin. As it were, neither would be given the chance.
"Ma? Is everything al –" Brian's voice sounded from the top of the steps. He was suddenly cut off by Colleen's shriek.
"MATTHEW!" Brother and sister bounded down the steps to greet their once estranged sibling. Matthew smiled through the tears that were still forming in his blue eyes, embracing his little sister and brother as they threw themselves at him.
Michaela watched the scene from afar, collecting the two cups and bringing them to the sink to be washed. It had been so long since she had seen such a smile engross Colleen's fair face. It had been so long since Brian's playful laugh filled the house, lighting the room and sparking joy within all those present. It had been so long since she, Michaela, had cried out of happiness, out of delight, out of bliss. Turning away so that no one would mistake her tears for sadness and ruin the moment at hand, she proceeded to wash the glasses.
"Why didn't you contact us?" Colleen asked as she pulled away from the tight embrace.
Michaela turned back from her washing momentarily; yes, she had been wondering the same thing.
Matthew's gaze dropped almost immediately, and his feet began to shuffle lightly across the ground, clearly as ashamed of his negligence as anyone. "Well…I wanted ta….really I did…I just…" He paused, and surprisingly, he glanced towards Michaela addressing her more than anyone else. "…It's like you said Dr. Mike…I was runnin'…runnin' from the truth and all that hurt me…" Turning back to face his siblings, Matthew gulped and spoke slowly, "…what I didn't realize, is that by running from the pain, I was also runnin' from the joy…I forgot the one thing Ma lived so dearly by…ya can't run from your problems, ya have to face em…"
"…You have to live the life you were born to live." Michaela spoke quietly as she took a seat next to Matthew.
The young man gave Michaela a slight smile and nod, before turning back to his brother and sister. "I'm really sorry I left like I did. I'm sorry I let ya'll down…"
"Ya didn't let no one down, Matthew!" Brian quickly chimed in, tightening his loving embrace on Matthew's arm.
Matthew, however, could not see past the guilt that plagued his body and every thought and action that he pursued.
"Matthew?" Colleen's sweet voice penetrated the silent tension, her hand resting consolingly on her older brother's shoulder.
Michaela could see the torment that befell the young man, and wished she could make all the pain vanish from his heart. She knew what it felt like to lose everything; everything that was important, or seemed important; everything that kept a person strong; living, breathing for one more second of one more day. She knew what it felt like to suddenly realize that, in fact, there was more to live for; what it felt like to then recognize the mistake that one had made in pushing the good things so far away. And yet more than anything Michaela knew that for those who truly mattered, those who truly loved and cared, they would always come back, they would always make themselves attainable; they would always wait for 'ready'. Matthew was ready.
"Matthew…we're so glad to have you back." Michaela spoke softly and kindly, beckoning his eyes with her persistent gaze. He resisted at first, but soon succumbed. Aquamarine reddened by tears stared back, so sad, so confused, so exhausted from life. And yet, she still saw the hope for a new beginning, a second chance. "Why don't we all go up to bed now…Matthew's had a long journey and we all had a very…exciting day." Michaela spoke with a smile, as she stood up from the chair and put her hands upon Brian's shoulders.
"Ah Ma, I want ta hear 'bout Matthew's adventures!"
Matthew couldn't help the slight flinch which ripped through him upon hearing the intimate term, once solely reserved for the mother he mourned so much. Michaela empathetically pretended not to notice. "Not now Brian, we all need to be well rested for tomorrow. I'm going to need to head into town early for an appointment with Mr. Bray, and I'll need to have you up so I can give you instructions for what needs to be accomplished tomorrow…"
"Aw man…we have to get things accomp– ...accompished…" Brian whined. "…that's just another way of sayin' chores…"
"Brian! Dr. Mike let us have a treat by goin' to the dance tonight… you don't have any idea how hard that was for her…now ya need to hush up!" Colleen snapped, revealing her bossy side to a quite perplexed Matthew.
"Colleen!" Michaela placed her hand to her chest breathing coolly. "See, this is exactly what I was speaking of; we're all over-exhausted…now Brian and Colleen, please I need you to get back in bed."
"Yes ma'am." The younger children said in unison before they turned to give their brother one last hug and sluggishly crawled up the stairs.
Michaela let out a soft sigh when at last the second door clicked shut and the sound of scuffling feet died. Matthew remained in the same position, although his hands were now raking through his thick golden mane of hair. While he was quite accustom to the bickering between his siblings, never before had he seen Colleen address Brian, or anyone for that matter, with such a direct and reprehensive tone in her voice. Furthermore, never had he seen Michaela turn a brighter shade of pink or Brian become more silent. Something, something drastic had obviously occurred while he was gone, something that had completely altered the lives and personalities of those whom he held most dear to his heart.
"Brian has an extra cot in his room, if you wouldn't mind sharing…" Michaela's tender voice broke Matthew's reverie. "…however, if you were hoping for more privacy, which I certainly wouldn't hold against you, I'm afraid the only other place is the loft in the barn."
Matthew nodded, silently thanking the woman for her continued kindness and understanding. Michaela retreated momentarily to a side closet before returning with a small stack of blankets and towels in her arms. Handing them to the young man, she began to turn away, however she was stopped as Matthew placed his hand on her arm. "Thank you."
Michaela shook her head. "It's no trouble at all."
They stared at each other for a few moments, silently communicating through their gaze. Then Matthew broke the contact, dropping his head and shaking it slowly. "No…It is a trouble…I've been…I shoulda listened to you. I was wrong to have left like I did."
"Everyone has their own ways of grieving, believe me I know…" Michaela's voice broke ever so slightly, but Matthew failed to notice.
"No, I shoulda stayed with my family, taken care of them. Instead I…I left that burden completely on you and…" Matthew trailed off. "…I abandoned my family durin' its greatest time of need."
Tears renewed themselves in eyes of blue and green. Michaela grasped the hand that had prevented her dismissal, giving it a tight squeeze. "We all make mistakes, we all grieve and within that time do things that…that we would never condone or want to do. And yet, somehow, someway we all must find it in ourselves to move on. And more so, we must find it within ourselves to forgive our own actions."
Matthew could only shake his head as a second set of sobs threatened to rip open his heart.
"Yes…I know it's hard. And I know I have yet to forgive myself for what I have done over these past three months…" Michaela paused, her mind reflecting over all that had happened, all that she had seen and felt and done. "But, in order to fully move on, to fully push past the pain, we must tie up all the loose ends."
His blue-eyed stare finally rose again to meet Michaela's, greeting hers with slight confusion amidst the pain. Part of him wished to know what had happened while he was gone, and yet seeing the sorrow still confined within the forest of green and gold, he dared not ask.
"Now…I do think it would do us both good to get some sleep…" Michaela rose, releasing Matthew's hand, and walking towards the stairs. "I'll be heading into town around seven, would you like me to pick you up anything? I mean, of course you're welcome to come with me, but if you would rather sleep in…" The young woman rambled, finding she was thrown somewhat off kilter by the emotional wave that had engulfed her during the conversation.
Matthew shook his head. "No, if I need anythin', I'll walk into town. Maybe I can even take Colleen and Brian if they get their chores done in time."
Michaela gave him a slight smile and nod. "That would be wonderful. I'll have Katie with me, so actually Colleen's presence would be most helpful…"
"Katie?"
Michaela sighed, suddenly realizing all that Matthew had indeed missed while he was away. "Katie's my daughter…my baby…I had her over three months ago."
"Oh! Oh, well, congratulations…" Matthew spoke somewhat awkwardly. "…And how was Sully?"
Silence.
"I mean…I bet he was ecstatic! If only he could have been there…" Matthew's voice faded, seeing how incredibly uncomfortable Michaela appeared; he figured that the man's absence was still a difficult subject for the young mother. "Well, I'll see ya tomorrow then…"
Michaela let out an uncharacteristic high-pitched tone in response, before turning and again attempting to climb the staircase.
"And Dr. Mike…" Michaela halted one last time, gripping the banister for support. "Thank ya."
The sweet smell of wooded mist filled her nostrils, taunting her senses; beckoning her to come, relax, break away from societal proprieties; urging her to enjoy the nature surrounding her. But Michaela Quinn was not one to drift from her ever busy schedule, especially when the reason was one of self-indulgence. Although disappointed in her own lack of spontaneity, Michaela smiled, giving the horses a soft nudge with the reins.
It had been a good night, despite the turmoil brought on by Daniel's presence; it had been a restful sleep, despite the strenuous questions which came with Matthew's arrival. Quite surprisingly, Michaela managed to, for the first time in months, sleep soundly through the night. What an amazing experience it was, Michaela thought to herself, to not be forced to relive countless images of her son's birth, and sub-sequential death; to not be awaken by her own cries and screams she witnessed the falling figure of Sully, shot down just as he extended his hand to her. To not dream of Sully's return, to not be convinced that she would wake up in his arms, only to find that the arms that surrounded her were her own, and the body that she pressed against for warmth, was nothing by a cold feathered-pillow.
A tear threatened to jostle her composure, but she quickly pushed the memories from her mind as they came around the final bend of the road. The sun's rays splashed upon Michaela's radiant face, warming her hands which had previously been shadowed by the tree canopies above. Squinting into the blinding light, Michaela scanned the meadow before her. Reverend Johnson stood on the steps leading up to the church. As she waved 'hello' to the minister, Michaela smiled and spoke softly to Katie. "We need to get you baptized, little one…"
Yet as the words left her mouth, Michaela's mind suddenly flashed back to a memory of Sully specifically revealing his wish to have their children, whenever they came into the world, also be inducted by Cloud Dancing and the Cheyenne people. The grin that lit her face quickly faded at the thought, but Michaela did not allow the sadness to overcome her. Instead she looked down at her daughter, offering a weak smile despite the pain which bound her heart. "And you also must meet your Cheyenne father…"
So preoccupied was she with her own thoughts, Michaela didn't even notice the various scowls she was receiving from several of the men she passed by on her way through the field. Likewise, Michaela failed to see the scattered huddles of women pointing at her and exchanging whispers of her name as she made her way down the bustling town road. It was not until the doctor began to turn past the Mercantile that she saw the sour glare plastered across Loren's face as she greeted the shop keeper.
An acidic stone fell deep within her gut as Michaela felt the icy glares that burned into her from all directions. Confused and uncomfortable, she dropped her gaze, jerking back on the reins to halt Bear and Flash. Hank's alluring laugh echoed from across the street, carried by the same force that seared her back, heart, and lungs with his penetrating eyes. Wanting nothing but to escape the cold atmosphere that engulfed her, Michaela jumped from her seat and quickly began to unhitch the horses from their tethered restraints.
"So Michaela…" Hank's voice broke the woman's concentration. "…a little bird said you had yourself quite a night last night."
Shaking her head, Michaela chose not to give Hank the benefit of her reaction. Clearly her presence at the dance last night had simply been a surprise to many of the town folk; which to be quite honest was a surprise even to her. Finally disengaging the last latch, Michaela tied the horses to the provided post and rushed to retrieve her medical bag and Katie from the wagon seat.
As she reached up into the front of the wagon, the shiver that ran down Michaela's back intensified as the whiskey indulged breath of two men coated her exposed neck. Michaela hugged Katie closer to her chest and tightened her grip on the leather-shelled handle of her medical bag. Turning slowly, she found herself face to face with Jake and Hank, looming like prison guards over her.
"Well, it didn't take ya too long to get over Sully did it?" Jake asked slyly, taking another sip from the bottle of whiskey.
The mayor's putrid breath sickened Michaela almost as much as the question he asked. "I beg your pardon?"
"No beggin' necessary, Michaela…" Hank smiled coyly, enjoying the fun they were having with her rattled emotions. "…but ya know, I did offer ya job when ya first came to town. Ya could've been makin' money off of this life style you've been livin'."
Michaela felt herself backing up to the wagon, perplexed and nauseous from the fumes and inappropriate inquiries. "Please, I don't understand! What are you talking about…?"
"No see…but what we'd really like to know…" Jake cut the lady doctor off, smiling first at Hank before looking back at Michaela. "…who kisses better, Sully or Daniel?"
Silence. Stillness. Waiting for the blow. Waiting for the fatal impact. Waiting…waiting.
"…Hová'âháne! Nánéehove hóovéhe!" Sully shouted again, not daring to open his eyes, which had reflexively flinched shut when he saw the blade glitter in the sun light. "Hóovéhe... hóovéhe…friend, I'm your friend…" He breathed, slowly opening his eyes.
The native man still held his weapon aloft, however it was not with the same aggressive stance which he bore before. Now he wore a look of confusion, his eyes following Sully's length, taking in the symbolic uniform, yet puzzled by his knowledge of the ancient language. "Étsêhésenestse?"
"Do not be tricked! This man is a soldier; he is waiting for our weakness to be displayed!" Another Cheyenne spoke in the native tongue from his position in the road, in front of the wagon.
The second Indian's words renewed confidence in the first, as he tightened his grip on the blade. "No! Hová'âháne!" Sully shouted again, continuing in the dialect he knew so well, but seemed so foreign. "Please, I am a friend to the Cheyenne. My name is Byron Sully; I fought for your rights back in Colorado Springs, before the Army drove you to the Cripple Creek Reservation…"
"Yes, this same Army whose stripes you bear now…" The Cheyenne warrior grasping the knife called as he made his third advance on Sully.
"No, no, no, no! Please, listen…I…I never wanted to join this Army…it was…it was…" Sully trailed off memories spilling forth like an unbound river. Abigail, Hannah, their deaths and his depression; his sniper training, his resignation, and then years later the letter that sparked everything…
He saw her tear raked face and shaking figure and took in a deep breath before rushing to catch her falling body. Michaela broke down; sobbing into her beloved's shoulder, soaking his shirt with her misery.
"Oh Michaela, what is it? Shh…I know…I know this is hard. I don't want to…God; I don't want to do this…" He whispered gently into her ear, as he held her trembling body in his arms.
Michaela shook her head and tried to catch her breath between sobs. "Then don't…please…please don't leave me…"
"I wish…you know I wish I could…but there's no way to get out of this. I'd be a wanted man if I didn't go."
"I know…I know…but…I love you…I couldn't bear to lose you, Sully!" Michaela cried, taking in short, heaving, gasps of air.
Sully cradled Michaela's head delicately in his hands and stared deep into her eyes, vowing his very soul to her. "I promise you Michaela…I will get back to you…I will do everything humanly possible to get back to you! I love you…we'll be together again…I promise you…"
"I promise…" Sully breathed, his fingers delicately stroking his bottom lip, which tingled with the memory of a distant kiss.
"How can we trust you?" The leading Cheyenne spoke quickly and sharply, now doubting of the sanity of the man before him as he seemed to have drifted into some sort of a trance.
"Cloud Dancing…" Sully thought aloud. "Cloud Dancing, is he still your Medicine Man?" His inquiry was met with suspicious glances and silence. "Please…is he…has something happened to him?"
"How do you know of our Medicine Man? What do you want with him?" The warrior asked.
Sully shook his head, seeing that they still did not understand. "No…I was a translator for the Cheyenne….a…while ago…" Sully hesitated to give an exact time as he, himself still was unsure. "Cloud Dancing, he was a…he saved me long ago, when I was nearly dead. He is my Cheyenne brother. Náhevésenéhenôtse. Please, if you bring me to him, he will confirm this story and more."
Sully grew silent as he watched the two warriors look back and forth at each other, wordlessly deciding on whether to believe him or not.
"We will bring you to Cloud Dancing…"
"Hahoo"
"But…" The other Dog Soldier interrupted Sully, not hesitating to reveal the reflection of his hand crafted blade. "…should your story be incorrect, or should you show any signs of hostility, you will be killed without question…first your friend, then you…"
"No…" Sully looked up at Robert E. who was still in the wagon, staring at Sully with disbelief, unable to understand a word of the conversation thus far. "No you have to let this man go…he has done nothing to the Cheyenne, and recall that he has been at the whip of the white man as well…please, grant him safe passage…"
Silence, then "Fine…"
"Thank you…I'll just say goodbye to him…let him know I'll be leaving…" Sully spoke in a soft voice, turning back to address Robert E.; however, the man was quicker to speak than Sully.
"My God almighty…" Robert E.'s eyes stared straight into Sully's, disbelief written in every inch of his face. "What is Michaela gonna say when she finds out you're alive…"
"Michaela…" Sully breathed, hearing for the first time, another human speak her name. "Michaela…you know Michaela…"
Robert E.'s face contorted into a look of amusement and utter disbelief at the same time. "Do I know Dr. Mike? Sully did you get a bump on the head or somethin'?" Silence. "Sully you don't know who I am, do ya…?"
Sully shook his head. "I'm sorry Robert E. I…I know I've met you. I know we were friends, but…"
"No…it's ok…this war's been hard on everyone…even without a bump on the head, not so sure I'd remember all my friends when all my eyes could see was the dead from battle…I'm sorry…"
Again Sully shook his head, oppressing the memories that Robert E so clearly defined, forcing himself to regain his focus. "It's fine…Robert E. I'm goin' with the Cheyenne, I'm gonna meet with Cloud Dancin'…they're grantin' ya safe passage to Colorado Springs, but I need ya to do me a favor when ya get there…I need ya to tell Michaela I'm comin'…I need ya to tell her I'm gonna get to her…I promise…"
"Sully…what…"
"Time to go." The Indian soldier spoke in the native language, grabbing Sully's dislocated arm roughly, causing the man to scream out in pain.
"Sully!" Robert E. cried.
"Go!" Sully grunted through gritted teeth, the pain still searing the ligaments of his arm. "Go and tell Michaela…"
Robert E looked one last time on his old friend, so different yet so much the same. Finally nodding in acceptance of his task, the dark skinned man whipped the reins onto the horses' backs, and was off like a bolt of lightning down the dusty road. Letting out a painful breath, Sully looked up at his detainees only to see the blunt form of a rifle butt coming down on his already injured head. Inevitable, inescapable blackness.
"Let us begin…Oenikika"
His eyes opened, slits of dim light peering through his lashes. Two course yet tender hands rubbed gently against his temples.
Ééma émaome.
He twitched with the shrill cry, before relaxing into the furs beneath him.
Heséeo'ôtse.
Smoke, or was it fog, or mist, rain, steam…it smothered him.
Énaesëtse….
Sage…sweet grass…cedar…and tobacco. The smell detoxified him.
Vé'ho'ôtse. Étsêhetâho'hova.
Whether he was conscience or not was undeniably impossible to tell.
Mónêhé'še…?
I promise you, Michaela…
What do I say in such a letter…
We regret to inform you…
Oh but there is so much to say…
How much I love you…
Lieutenant Byron Sully…
My Heartsong…
That your husband…
I hope you can forgive me…
It should never have been told in a letter...
Knocked down telegraph lines…
I blame myself for her death…
Brian and Colleen…
Don't know where to begin…
Come back to me…
You promised…
So many joys…
Experiencing melancholia…
Né'áahtovêstse…
I promised Charlotte I would take care of them…
Has been shot in action…
Dear Sully, tragic events have occurred…
It was her last wish…
Michaela refuses to contact you…
I was so afraid…
Hová'âháne…
I can't bear to think of you in such awful conditions…
I wouldn't blame you if you were upset with me…
What's the point in life if you can't live it…
Three week's time…
I've known about this since the day before you left…
Maybe even sooner…
I can't help but think of you and where you are…
Closer just a little…
Come back to me…
I'll be able to release you from your duties…
Storm in Denver…
Bang to the death…
I suppose I'll start by telling you…
Connection broken…
Bang to the light…
My love for you is so unlimited…
But it is necessary that you know that…
You know what they say Lieutenant Sully…
Bang to all that was once believed, that was once stood up for…
I have something very special to tell you, Sully…
We apologize for this inconvenience…
About 'red at night, sailor's delight…
You created a new life in me…
Sully…
Never dropping his gaze from the blood-red sky as dawn breeched…
But Sully…
Mé'êševoto…
What's more is that…
I'm pregnant.
All my love, Your Michaela.
Bangto the end of being…
And the world swirled and blinded, crushed and pounded; confusing and disorienting him, until it all fell with a mighty blow.
"Mónêhé'še?"
"Nákâhaneotse…" Sully rolled onto his side, away from the medicine man and released the contents of his stomach onto the steam quenched ground.
"Népévomóhtâhehe, néséne?" Cloud Dancing asked quietly, as the young man relaxed onto his back again.
Breathing in and out the deep fumes of the sweat lodge, Sully spoke in a gruff voice, "Nápévomóhtahe. Náováxe…"
"What you saw was not a dream. It was the return of your spirit; the memories which hid deep within you…"
Silence followed the medicine man's statement. "Étatóne'xove? Since I left…" Sully reiterated. "How long has it been?"
"A full cycle of the seasons…"
"One year…I've been gone for…"
"Yes…"
Silence again. "She gave birth…I…I should have been there."
"There is nothing you can do now to turn back time…Dr. Mike is a strong woman, both in body and spirit. But, she will need you soon. You must go to her at that time."
"Tóne'še ého'oesta?"
"It is late, the moon is still on the rise…you cannot travel while so weak…" Could Dancing placed his hand on Sully's shoulder as the man attempted to rise.
"Náaseohtsétáno! Let me leave!"
"You will leave at dawn tomorrow; you will have our fastest horse to take you." Sully relaxed back into the furs at the instruction of the medicine man. "For now, you must rest, my friend. The spirits will look out on Dr. Mike, until your time comes."
"Michaela…" Sully breathed, his sight blurring. The disorienting effects of smoke and exhaustion interwined, and sleep soon overcame the man.
"What?" Her lungs began to yield as the crowd of people swelled.
"Why'd ya do it, Dr. Mike…" Loren's voice peaked through the multitude of sneers. "Dorothy was yer best friend! And ya went and broke her heart…"
Michaela's ragged breaths came short and sharply into her heaving chest, as silent sobs began to overwhelm her ability to take in air. "I don't understand…there was nothing….nothing happened…"
"Are ya callin' Dorothy blind?" Jake asked accusingly.
"I…I swear…" Michaela spoke between sobs, clutching Katie even closer as the child drew tears as well.
"Well, Michaela…I have ta say, we were all wonderin' where Katie got hair so thin and fair…" Hank said casually, his head falling to the side slightly as he gave a waywardly grin that made Michaela vomit a little in her mouth.
A hand grabbed Michaela's arm roughly, her eyes darting from the horrid blue to meet with voracious brown. "So what's a man gotta pay to get a kiss from this adulteress?" Jake whispered as he leaned in, cheers from the surrounding men pushing him onward.
Just as Michaela's hand was about to fly, a wisp of red hair caught the doctor's attention, and she quickly pulled away from Jake's grasp to catch the woman. "Dorothy…" Michaela touched her friend's arm gently.
Dorothy however turned from her. "I've got nothin' to say to you."
Michaela shook her head, trying to think of what Dorothy could have seen that made her think that she and Daniel had…had… "Dorothy, I don't know what you saw last night…but I swear to you, nothing…nothing happened."
"Well, you could have fooled me Dr. Mike." Dorothy pulled away from the young woman and began to walk away. Yet then she paused, never bothering to turn back and face Michaela. "I saw everything I needed to…from the look in his eye, to the deep lean he made in towards you…"
Michaela's teeth ground in her mouth, now frustrated and bitter with Dorothy's clear ignorance of the situation. "If you had bothered to look at my face you would have seen the tears raining down my cheeks at that moment…he came to console me after a…a misunderstanding we had…don't you see, we're just friends!"
"Oh don't play innocent with me, Michaela!" Dorothy spun around walking towards Dr. Mike, one sour step in front of the other. "All these years you spoke of your innocence and lack of…courage in these fields…well, fool me once shame on you, fool me twice…"
"The only fooling that is going on here is within your own mind…" Michaela spat, tears running unceasingly down her face without restraints for dignity. "I won't tell you again, nothing happened…"
"Oh please don't bother telling me again, Michaela!" Dorothy sneered back. "I wouldn't want you to have to lie again! But then I guess you'd be used to it, seeing as your 'melancholia' from Sully's death has clearly been an act, you've just been waiting for the next kind chap to come around so you can rouse him up too."
Michaela swung her hand up, stinging the flesh on Dorothy's cheek. A slight 'oh' echoed from Dorothy's lips and through the crowd, as Michaela stared venomously at the woman before her; her nostrils flaring. "Don't ever say anything like that again…I died that day." Her body shook with the thousands of sobs that longed to be released. Silence lingered throughout the street, as Michaela walked back towards the horses. Rotating Katie into a one armed grasp, Michaela grabbed hold of Flash's rein and untied it as quickly as she could with her free hand; her body still trembling violently. Without another word, she began to lead the horse down the street.
Her mind was blank yet whirling at the same time, as the tears continued to cascade from her evergreen eyes. Looking up momentarily, Michaela caught Grace's eye. The woman walked from her café, having seen the last part of the fight from afar and internally knowing that her presence was needed. Their gazes met, and Grace knew. "Ya take a nice ride, and ya be careful, ya hear? This will all blow over, just you wait." She embraced the sobbing doctor.
Michaela nodded weakly, her mouth opening slightly; however words would not sound as the dizziness within overwhelmed her.
"Let me take Katie…ya go and get some fresh air, and I'll pack ya up a nice basket dinner for when ya come back, ok…?" Grace spoke softly, seriously concerned for the woman's health, but knowing that what she needed was a moment to release the clogged energy that bound her to this state of nothingness.
Michaela merely nodded again, handing the cooing child over to Grace before turning to face Flash again. Her fingertips brushed gently across the mare's soft coat, grazing the coarse mane hair as she looked forlornly at the animal's bare back. She had never ridden alone without a saddle, and the memory she had of her one excursion involved a person she could not bring herself to think about in her current state. Yet desperate circumstances called for desperate measures. Michaela grasped Flash's mane tightly between her fingers, using the nervous energy her to throw herself over the saddle. If she was uncomfortable under the eyes of the town previously, riding bare back did nothing to help the situation. Still, she nudged the horse gently and gripped the abrasive fibers even tighter.
Had the tears not blinded her eyesight so, had her need to break away not been so great, Michaela may have recognized the blacksmith in the wagon, which barreled into town before she turned and sped into the woods.
Rough, thick fibers absorbed the sweat that gathered on his fingers as he clung to the horse's mane. Faster and faster he pushed the mare through the trees, winding in and out of thickets and brush. Never pausing, never breaking. His mind was clear and focused; the memories which had once been nothing but wisps of dialogue now were absorbed fully.
"You still have much to remember. The spirits showed you only what you needed to see, the rest will come when the time is right." Cloud Dancing had spoken the wise words before he left. Instantly Sully knew that it was true, as some periods of his past still seemed to be missing; however, he felt so alive and refreshed with the memories he had received, that he could hardly control his excitement.
The wind rippled through his heavily soiled shirt, which clung to his chest, holding precipitation he had released in the sweat lodge. Sully basked in the cool, rich feeling; freedom calling, home beckoning. With each turn and bend of a tree, the path before him became more and more recognizable. He knew where he was, and yet he didn't; but all the same it didn't matter because he was so close…so, so close. He could taste it in the air, the anticipation settling with the humid dew. He could smell it in the trees, the way they urged him onward, leading him to his destination. He could feel it in his soul, which soared above the clouds in a rush of exhilaration. He was so close, so close…
Tears mingled with a soft layer of dust, which flew up from the ground and settled on her face as they tore down the unbeaten path; no knowledge or care for their destination. All she wanted was to get away; away from the torture and agony, from the fear and loneliness, the pain and the lies. Faster and faster, Michaela pushed Flash, desiring more than anything to feel that exhilarating flying sensation, as she once did during her rides. More than anything, she wished for freedom from the cursed cloud which had hung over her for the past year; to just forget it all…everything since she had come from Boston. Yet no wish was granted.
Spontaneously, Michaela pulled Flash's neck to the left, steering the mare further into the darkening woods. "Come on Flash…keep going girl." Michaela breathed as Flash was forced to dodge the trees at a quicker pace. Something within her pushed to keep going, leading her like a moth to the flame; never quite reaching a destination she so longed for, a destination that burned and healed her all at once. Light broke through the trees up ahead, and she pushed Flash onward. Concentrating so intently on those broken sun beams ahead, Michaela failed to see a low-hanging branch until it was much too late. A sharp blow to her head, followed by the fearful sensation of falling filled her, as Flash continued to ride without her companion.
Michaela's terrified screams echoed across the forest, drowning out the dissipating sound of hooves upon the forest floor as Flash vanished into the developing darkness of the woods. Landing with a painful 'thud,' Michaela groaned out of her misery, which had now become both physical and emotional, as she lay breathless among the soft pine-needles and leaves. She held her chest in her arms, trying to catch the air that had so suddenly been blown from her. Slowly and painfully, the sweet forest air began to flow through her deprived lungs, allowing blood to resurface in her pale cheeks. Michaela sighed softly, gazing up at the canopies high above her.
"That was beautiful, Michaela…" she panted, closing her eyes in a tight wince as she attempted to rise. The action was futile, for she quickly discovered that her ankle was broken. Slumping back onto the cold, heartless ground, Michaela returned her gaze to the sky, cursing her foolishness and futile desires. "How could I ever think of being free…why did I ever believe such a thing was possible…" She chastised herself, weary from the endless disappointment and failure.
A distant rumble, followed by the ever-so-slow progression of pattering upon the dust ridden terrain alerted Michaela to the approaching storm. As rain drops fell rapidly form the heavens, Michaela remained in the same position, allowing the tears from the sky to cleanse her face; a particularly large drop fell directly on Michaela's left temple, causing her to wince. Bringing her hand up to touch her head where the branch had left its mark, she winced again; withdrawing her fingers, Michaela watched as the rain rinsed away the blood from the tips.
"Wonderful…" Michaela laughed satirically. The smile soon faded from her lips, leaving her face impassive to what could soon be her fate. Falling back onto the soft mud, Michaela closed her eyes allowing the quickening rain to drench her; skin, clothing and all, hoping that she might simply sink into the forest floor and forever be forgotten.
"Grace!" Robert E. jumped from his wagon seat, never bothering to release the horses. Running to his wife, he saw Katie sleeping in her arms. "Grace…where's Dr. Mike?"
Grace shook her head. "She went out for a ride…she'll be back soon. Oh, you missed quite a scene from the town today. How was your trip?"
"No…no time for that." Robert E. panted.
Hearing the tension and urgency in his voice, Grace stopped stirring the soup she'd been brewing and looked up towards her husband. "What's wrong Robert E.? What happened?"
The blacksmith looked left and right to see if anyone was eavesdropping. Gently holding his wife's arm, he led her to the small alley way between the café and the clinic. "I was riding back from Denver and I came across a man walkin' to Colorado Springs. He was a soldier, beat up real bad. I offered him a ride, and he took it…"
"Ya offered a stranger a ride? A soldier none the less? Robert E. we've still not fully won our freedom in these states…It's a good thing Colorado is sidin' with the Union but…"
"Just listen to me…let me finish." Robert E. interrupted his wife's chastising, again looking around for potential listeners. "The man looked familiar, yet he was so different, I would have never thought it was him until…"
"Until what?"
"Two Dog Soldiers stopped us about thirty miles back up the road…the man…the one I picked up, he knew Cheyenne…"
"It was a trap then?"
"No, no ya don't get what I'm sayin'!" Robert E. sighed. "The soldier, he spoke Cheyenne, and I knew I'd seen those blue eyes before, I just didn't think it was possible…"
Grace shook her head. "You're not makin' any sense Robert E.; what was possible?"
"The man…it was Sully…he's alive."
The sweet smell of rain filled his nostrils as he rode through the woods, allowing his senses to take him where they willed. There was something uncannily familiar about these trees, something he could not quite put his finger on; it was as if they had recently visited him in a dream. Pondering as he rode, Sully absorbed his surroundings, feeling overwhelmed with an emotion which seemed to spring from the branches and latch onto his mind and soul, pushing him onwards towards some unknown source.
Nudging the horse ever so slightly in the ribs, Sully sped through the trees, feeling the forest guiding him to his destination. Soon falling into a swift gallop, dodging in and out of trees and branches, Sully followed the constant pulling of his heart until he suddenly came to a halt. Before him stood a small wooden structure in the clearing; simple yet sturdy in design, hovering over discarded piles of soft furs and wool blankets.
An eerie feeling consumed Sully, as he jumped from the back of his horse and slowly approached the lean-to, grazing his fingers over the wood methodically. "I've been here before…" he said in a hush. "…so long, but not so long ago…"
An icy breeze broke the humid fog as it whipped past Sully, bringing with it a terrified scream that chilled him to the core. Thunder instantly followed the frantic cry, jerking the man from his reverie. The shriek had triggered a fear and power deep within him, as if he recognized that voice, as if it was someone he knew once, someone he cared for.
The tingling sense that his presence was needed suddenly filled and empowered him. Without a second thought Sully took off through the trees, leaving his horse in the clearing and racing in the direction in which the cry sounded from.
His temper was fuming. How could she do that to her best friend, how could she do that to someone so kind, so understanding? "Dorothy!" Daniel stomped into the Mercantile.
Dorothy turned from her dusting, yet upon seeing the man she rotated back. "I don't want to talk to ya right now…"
"Well you're lack of desire to talk certainly didn't stop ya from tellin' the entire town about somethin' you've got no understandin' about!" Daniel shot back.
The mercantile became dead quiet, all eyes fixed on Dorothy for her response. When none came Loren stepped forward. "Now listen here…I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if ya don't keep your voice down."
"Yeah? And are ya gonna ask her to leave?" Daniel did nothing to lower his voice. "She certainly didn't keep her voice down this mornin' in front of the whole town! Ya went and took out your blind jealousy on that poor woman, when ya should have been upset with me!" He paced the floor slightly, biting his tongue so as to prevent the venomous words which threatened to break through. "Ya know…you can be a real nice lady, Ms. Jennings; and I've definitely enjoyed the time I've spent with ya these past few weeks. But if this is how ya treat your friends, I'm sorry…I don't want no part of it. I'm gonna be leavin' on the next stagecoach out of here. As much as Michaela needs all the friends she can get, somethin' tells me my presence isn't exactly the most desired of company."
With that Daniel turned on his good leg, and limped down the wooden steps.
"Wait!" Dorothy's voice stopped the man in his tracks. "You're right…what I did was wrong, and I'm sorry."
Silence lingered between the two for a few minutes before Daniel spoke quietly, never turning to face the journalist, "It's not me ya should be apologizin' to, it's Michaela." Daniel took another step into the road, only to nearly be knocked over by Colleen, who bound up the steps towards Dorothy.
"How could you do that to her, you witch!?" Colleen shouted at the already distressed woman, causing Dorothy to cower even more so into herself.
"Colleen!" Loren exclaimed. "You should be ashamed of yourself talking to your elder like that!"
"I don't care how old she is! She acted like a child today from what I've heard in town…" Colleen's voice was becoming increasingly high-pitched as tears swelled in her eyes and muffled her words. "Ya have no idea what you've done, do ya?
"I know Colleen you're angry, and ya got every right to be…" Dorothy began weakly.
Colleen wouldn't have it. She could not watch this woman, who had given her adopted mother so much grief, try and insinuate that she 'understood'. "No, with all due respect, Ms. Dorothy, ya can't even begin to know! Ya were never there! Ya were never there to hear Dr. Mike's screams in the middle of the night when she woke from a nightmare of Sully's death. Ya were never there to see her completely break down because she dropped the silverware on her way to set the table for dinner. Ya were never there to see her refuse to pick up her own daughter, simply because she feared that if she grew attached to her, Katie would leave just like everything else that she cared for seemed to. So don't go tellin' me ya know somethin', cause ya don't! Ya just don't!"
"That's enough Colleen." Matthew's voice broke the intermediate silence which clung to every living creature in the store.
"I just want ta find my Ma…" Brian spoke softly, tears now forming in his own eyes. "…I don't want ta lose a second Ma!"
Matthew ruffled his brother's hair, and looked back up at Loren and Dorothy. "Do either of ya happen to know where Dr. Mike is?"
Loren shook his head and looked away, ashamed of the part he had played in the morning's uproar. Dorothy, on the other hand never allowed her tear-reddened gaze to drop from Colleen's, who was still staring daggers at the middle-aged woman. "'Kay, well we'll just be goin' then…" Matthew walked up to Colleen, placing his arm around her shoulders. The fair-haired young lady resisted Matthew's lead initially, emitting a slight "no" as she scuffled her feet to the steps; however the process was futile, and she was forced to accompany her brothers down the stairs and through the bustling streets.
Silence still rang within the mercantile, as Loren continued to sweep softly, refusing to look at Dorothy. The woman in turn, never gazed at the shop keeper, and furthermore, never dropped her gaze from the place in which Colleen had once stood. She merely stood there, hollowed and void from the experience, never flinching or bothering to move as customers weaved in and out of the store. It was then, in that moment, that Dorothy realized the severity of what she had done. She had pulled the last straw.
The gentle rhythm of the drizzling rain soothed Michaela's aching head, yet did nothing for the pain in her heart, as she lay on the bed of mud and leaves. "Sully…" She breathed; her mind drifting from one heartache to the next as she stared up at the vast, grey nothingness.
"Sully…" Michaela spoke again; the name much more defined. Rolling onto her side, she gritted her teeth. "Sully!" Beating the ground, her tears mixed perfectly with the rain water; all eventually soaking into the soft terrain. A sob broke through her, and then another, and another. "Sully!" She cried, pushing past the pain in her ankle to rise.
Lifting her head to the sky, Michaela watched as lightning suddenly illuminated the darkening clouds. "I HATE YOU!" Her shrill scream was lost to the clap of thunder which shook the ground. Anger filled and tormented every nerve of her body. No longer did sorrow or self-pity overwhelm her outlook. No longer did moving on or forgetting offer a sense of peace to her soul. Now such emotions had fallen away, deep inside her, allowing a rage she did not realize she was capable of to consume her. "SULLY!" She screamed, before taking off in a hobbling sprint.
Fueled by the anger within, Michaela did not notice the pain that seared her leg with every step she took. Faster and faster she ran, dodging past oak and pine, seeing nothing but the destination before her. She was so close. So close. Harder and harder she pushed herself, her legs barely keeping up with the fury which drove her. So close, so, so close. Faster, harder; quickening her step, pushing up from the ground with every muscle she could spare. Running, sprinting; from love, from hate, from sorrow. Onward, closer, so much closer…
Her ankle finally gave way, and Michaela came crashing to the ground, in a drenched huddle.
- - -
She did not see him standing beside the Pine; her focus was far too intent on that spectrum of light; hope that so quickly vanished. But he saw her.
His breath caught.
Squinting into the orbed glare, he watched as a shadowed feminine figure split the blinding light, approaching him in a methodical, yet graceful sway.
"Closer just a little…"
Just as the figure came close enough for her eyes to sparkle as brown and green specks through the darkness, she suddenly halted her approach…
She stumbled. Her hobbled sprint suddenly blended into a graceful fall; like the thousands of raindrops around her, she descended onto, and then into the moist terrain.
His pulse stopped.
Her body lay crippled in the puddle; mud splattered across her features. Her limbs submerged into the ground at odd angles, giving the effect that she was, like a tree, sprouting from some unseen seed in the ground. That her roots had broke from the terrain to, for just a moment, gather the sunlight and rain that would bake the ground.
As he gazed at her soiled copper locks, his heart beckoned him to run to her, to hold her, to put his mind and soul at peace. Yet he could not move, he could barely breathe; his legs were brimming with lead and his head was aching with a dizzying exuberant sensation. He just stared.
- - -
Michaela lay face down in the sludge; her arms sprawled out beside her broken body. There was no hope in her muscle, no strength in her heart. The soft mud felt so cool beneath her, so comfortable, so relaxing to simply think just for a moment that all the pain could be over; all the misery could sink from her mind as she slowly and effortlessly disintegrated into the midst. She may have lain there for eternity, left to fall into the earth from which she'd come, had two arms not gathered her crumpled body from the muck. Michaela's eyes flashed open, and she looked upon the face of the man carrying her.
Ocean, meadow, sky, forest. A meeting of all, nature's perfectly adorned miracle.
"I'm dead…" a voice, not of her own spoke. "…I've died, surely I must have."
His arm, broken and disjointed, began to tire as he walked.
"No…I can't die…Katie…no…" Her breath shortened.
He stopped walking, and kneeled down, the rain falling over his battered features. "You're not dead…"
She shook her head, staring everywhere but his eyes; they pierced her soul, her heart, her spirit. "No…you're here, I can't be alive…"
"No…I'm here."
"No!" Her voice cried out, pushing away from her rescuer. "No! I…I won't believe it, I can't! Katie…oh God, I've left her…and Brian and Colleen…oh God what have I done…"
"Why can't you believe me?" He urged.
She sat in dreaded silence, before looking up, straight into his eyes. "Because I'm tired of being fooled. I'm tired of the dreams…of you, begging me, pleading with me, always telling me it's truly, honestly, fully you. I'm tired Sully. I'm so tired of waking up in my bed, believing so earnestly that you are lying beside me; only to roll over onto an empty pillow…"
Tears, rain, dust, and pain; all melded into one on both faces, both hurt and crippled faces.
"I can't dream of you any more…you have to go…" She whispered, her eyes dropping to her drenched skirt.
Silence.
"No…you won't dream of me any longer. You won't have to…" He touched her chin, leading her gaze up to meet his. "Look at me…"
She was lost in that gaze, that perfect, beautiful gaze. How her heart longed to believe, just one last time. She shook her head slowly, never dropping the stare. Then, her eyes moved, absorbing the features of his face; the scar, the bruises. She looked down his body. The hand which had touched her was blackened with injury and grime. His shoulders were mismatched; one bloodied from a deep wound, the other disjointed from a fall. Again she looked up at his face. Slowly her delicate hand rose to touch the scar upon his cheek.
He closed his eyes, basking in the sensation of her gentle touch; reveling in the feeling of her presence.
Her fingers traced the cool line until it reached his ear. There they continued their wandering path through his thick locks, stopping only when they reached the ends, before flowing up to the roots and descending again.
"Michaela…"
Her name, his voice; how long had it been since she'd heard them in unison?
"Michaela…"
She stopped the threading motion and looked completely into his gaze. And there, only there, she was home.
"I promised you, I'd return…"
She shook her head sadly, tears spilling forth at an unprecedented pace. "I'm so sorry, I doubted you…"
"No…I'm sorry." He took her hand which had been held aloft at his face and held it lovingly in his own. Their hands and gazes were solidly entwined as they sat breathless, unable to speak, unable to express what could not be expressed in words, symbols, or sounds.
"Sully…" She barely breathed. "…is it you…?"
"It is…" He reached up, just skimming the flesh of her face.
Her eyes closed. "I swear if this is a dream…"
"Well, it's the best kind of dream…" Subconsciously leaning, beckoning, pulling.
Her eyes flashed open, seeing his face a breath from hers. "What…?"
Their breaths, their tears, their glances; waiting to be mixed, waiting to be molded, ready to blend into one masterpiece. "…It's one that came true."
Ignition. A breath shortened, and then dissipated, until nothing stood between them. Not air, not distance, not time, not memories. Love. Love was all that stood; secure and brilliant, resilient and formidable, potent and lasting. Lips locking, tears crushing, wind encompassing, rain drifting, time stopping. Love.
There was no one, no time, no place; nothing. There lay only them, only their love, only that kiss.
Suddenly, Michaela pulled away breathless, tears still pelting down her rosy cheeks. "I'm not the same woman you left…not the same one you married. I'm so sorry, I just…I wouldn't blame you if you didn't love me anymore."
A surprised grin crinkled across his mouth, as Sully cupped her face with his hand. "Michaela, I ain't the same man that left ya a year ago either. We've both been through so much; we were bound to change with the world around us. But the thing is…" He took Michaela's hand in his free one, kissing her fingers gently. "Come what may, whether there's a thousand miles seperatin' us, or a decade between when I last see your smile, I will love ya until the end of time."
Smiles and tears mingled on her face, and Michaela suddenly was lost for words and actions. "Hold me…" the words drifted from her lips, without consciousness. "Hold me like you did before any of this ever happened…"
Slowly and carefully, aware of both of their injuries, Sully gathered his wife into his arms, holding her like he'd never let go. "No, I'll hold ya like it did happen; closer, tighter, longer."
They lay in each others' arms for an eternity, or was it merely a millisecond; little did it matter as time was not of an importance to either. They had found each other; two hearts had become one, two lovers star-crossed, two soul mates together. Together was all they needed; together was all that mattered.
Epilogue:
Hours would pass and eventually those who were brought together by destined fortune would have to return to the world that they both wished to forget. In the coming moments, Sully would be reunited with friends and family from his past; memories pouring forth as if from a pitcher to a glass. The image of Brian and Colleen running towards him, embracing him, crying and laughing all around him; the steady handshake from Matthew, which soon became a hug as well; all these memories, all these happy times, so kindled in Sully's heart. Yet the one that Sully hoped he never forgot, the one he treasured, and would hold onto for eternity, was the introduction that followed.
"Sully…" Michaela's voice was hoarse and light from sobbing and the cold rain that still loitered on her skin, as she turned to Colleen and picked up the infant from her loving grasp. Turning to her husband, Michaela limped forward slowly, carefully, cautiously; as if the moment before her would somehow crumble into dust if she treaded too harshly. "Three months ago, I gave birth to two beautiful children. A son and a daughter…"
Colleen began to walk forward, hearing her mother's voice crack, yet Matthew quickly put his hand on the young woman's shoulder. She must do this on her own.
Sully looked from child to mother, overcome with emotion, wanting nothing more than to engulf both in his arms. Yet he was held back by the nagging in his heart which warned him that more needed to be said; more needed to be put to rest.
"I never could tell you…it was so difficult to admit to myself, but…" Michaela continued despite her body's reluctance. "…I didn't want to hurt you, we'd already been through so much pain. But I feel I must tell you now. Sully, our son…your son, he died in labor."
He was numb, so numb as he stepped slowly towards his wife. Tears were raining down all faces present, but not a sound was heard; all waiting for one reaction, one word or phrase. Michaela, whose gaze had been fixed squarely on the ground, slowly looked up into the eyes that she had so longed to see. There, she found acceptance, there she found love, there she found rest.
"Who is this?" Sully whispered, bringing his hand up to graze the rim of the baby's bonnet.
Michaela let out a single weak laugh amidst the tears. "This…this is our miracle; this is your daughter, Katherine."
His tear swollen eyes leapt from the child to her mother momentarily, joy filling him as more memories entered his mind. "Katherine? Like my…"
"…Your mother, yes. Katherine Elizabeth Sully; we call her Katie for short." Michaela confirmed. Seeing the yearning look in his eye, she asked quietly. "Would you like to hold her?"
Sully looked up quickly, fear and yet excitement battling inside of him as he slowly nodded. "Yes…"
In that moment of first contact, it was as if the entire universe had ceased to exist; there was no question, no words. "She's her Daddy's little girl." Michaela sniffled, her grin widening with her eyes. Michaela broke her gaze momentarily with Sully to wave over Colleen, Brian and Matthew. The children ran to their mother, hugging and rejoicing in the new found joy of life.
Life is a state of mind and a state of being; it can be taken and given without hesitation. Love however, is much more complicated; it is everlasting and forbearing. Love cannot be given so easily and certainly it cannot be taken away without the breaking of one's heart. Love creates life within those who it affects; fills it and defines purpose within it. Love fuels life. Without love, what is life?
Nêhe'še!
Fin!
END!
Please, please share your thoughts and critics with me! Whether it be here, at the DQ forum, or via email () Please! I'd be so grateful to hear what you thought of this chapter, any chapter, or the story in general! And of course, thank you for reading!
Extended/Alternative ending:
The following was written for humor's sake and nothing else. The idea came one night, probably at 3 in the morning as I vented my frustrations with certain characters to Ren. From that discussion we joked about an alternative ending which eventually grew into a promise to write said ending and post it following the final chapter. The grammar is intentional, as it is a running joke between Ren and I; I apologize if this bothers you as well. Read at your own risk/humor.
How I was about to end CWM:
"Michaela…"
Her name, his voice; how long had it been since she'd heard them in unison?
"Michaela…"
She stopped the threading motion and looked completely into his gaze. And there, only there, she was home.
"I promised you, I'd return…"
She shook her head sadly, tears spilling forth at an unprecedented pace. "I'm so sorry, I doubted you…"
"No…I'm sorry." Slowly, Sully lowered his head, his breath coming in short, painful quakes.
"Sully?" Michaela breathed, horrified as she watched her husband fall into her lap. "Oh God, Sully; what's happening, what's wrong?"
She held his head in her arms as he looked up first at the falling rain and then to her. "I promised I would come back to you…"
Tears pelted effortlessly down both faces. "And you did! You did come back. Oh Sully, what's wrong, tell me please what hurts, let me fix it!" Michaela sobbed, seeing the light slowly fading from his eyes. "Please don't leave me Sully…"
But he shook his head, entranced by her beauty. "I came back…I promised…I love you Michaela, until the end of time." He spoke with his final breath, using the last bit of energy he possessed to proclaim his undying love.
"Sully!" Michaela's screams echoed off of distant cliff hangings; her terrified voice rebounding to her ears, torturing her, choking her.
Rain continued to fall from the heavens, blanketing the woman as she knelt in the mud, her dead husband in her arms.
Just kidding! No seriously I was about to do that though! Aren't you glad I'm not that mean!
Ok seriously people, this is the end. I love you all. Thanks for the great times!
Peace, Love, and all things Ducky,
Penny/Wind dancer/ (really truly) Aspen
PS: This story is dedicated to my favorite penguin in the whole wide world! The following is a testament of that love.
(Sung to "favorite things" for the Sound of Music)
Logging onto msn to find ren there, on the forum at 2am without a care...typing out stories with her pal renny, these are a few favorite things for penny!...talking to renny at four in the morning, Shouting out random-crazy things without warning, PICK AXE, and NAILS, and don't forget CANES!... i'm so sor-ry this whole song is so lame! When I'm thrown off of the forum, when I'm feeling sad...I simply remember my Kindred spirit, and then I don't feel so bad!