Chapter 2

Michaela's entire world crumbled. She hadn't been feeling well that morning, hadn't felt herself for a few weeks in fact; but she had brushed the slight illness off as the physical manifestation of the stress and tension between her and Sully. Now the symptoms returned with a vengeance, and she had to turn away from him to keep him from seeing the nausea and lightheadedness that assailed her. It was as if her body itself was protesting the disillusion of a love she never dreamed would end.

Sully had seen the pain etched in his wife's face the moment before, and was going to take all that he had said back that very instant, but she had turned away from him. She had turned away their argument, just as she had done many years ago during their courtship when she had discovered that Catherine had kissed him. The pain of that instance mingled with the intense agony of this one, and he made a decision.

Turning his back to her, he climbed the stairs two at a time and quickly reached the bedroom he shared with his wife Instead of turning the doorknob and going in however, he slammed the door open with his fist, pushing it so hard that it hit the wall behind it with an earth shattering thud and nearly broke off it's hinges. He then stormed toward the bed and upon reaching it, removed his travel pouch from around the bedpost, and spilled its contents onto the bed. Turning, he opened the closet and removed all of his shirts, socks, pairs of buckskin pants, boots and moccasins, leaving they suits he'd worn for her behind as the only thing left of him in the wardrobe they shared. Facing the bed again, he placed the clothing in the pouch, When he finished, he moved to close the wardrobe doors, but decided to instead, leave the closet open so that Michaela could see his choice to remove his clothing, and essentially himself, from the most private space they shared. Satisfied that he'd made his point, he left the room, knowing that his next task would not cause him to feel anything but agony.

Crossing the hall, he quietly opened the door to his daughter's bedroom. Six-year-old Katie looked up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. She had woken up that morning to the sound of her parents shouting, but was too frightened to call out to them and had missed school as a result, it had seemed as though they were too angry to remember school, or her, for that matter. Now as her papa sat quietly in front of her, she could tell that something was wrong, and that whatever was wrong would take a long time to fix.

"Papa, I heard you and mama yellin' downstairs. She sounded real angry, and so did you, what's wrong?"

Sully gazed at his daughter for a moment before speaking. He loved their older children very much, but Katie was the image of everything he loved about Michaela and their life together, she had been created from the connection that they continued to share with one another.

At this thought, he stopped himself for a moment. He had thought of that connection in the present tense, and the slip made his heart twist with guilt because he knew that right now, his wife was downstairs heartbroken, and that she would sob herself to sleep tonight, and every night for a very long time because of the lie he had told her to protect himself.

Katie's small hand on his arm startled him out of his reverie, and he turned back to his precious, little girl, whose cheeks were now tear-stained, and whose fingers had gripped into his arm with an intensity and possessiveness that rendered him unable to speak for a moment.

"Papa" she cried plaintively, forgetting the question she'd asked him and merely needing to be held.

Sensing her need and recognizing the one in his own soul, Sully drew his daughter close, her small head coming to rest on his shoulder and her body tucked against his chest, as though she were a newborn. Once she was comfortable, both father and daughter took a moment to cry out their mutual pain in each other's arms.

As the minutes went by, however, Sully began to realize that the longer he was with their daughter, the better the chance that Michaela would come to speak with him and he knew they couldn't fight in front of Katie, he felt badly enough that she'd heard them yelling downstairs. He had to leave!

Swallowing hard, he tried to regain as much composure as he could before speaking, but was unsuccessful at completely erasing the tears from his voice as he said, "Mama and I love you very much, Sweet Girl. I gotta go away now, but I'll be back to see you—I promise."

At his words, Katie began sobbing in earnest.

"Papa, don't go! No! Don't leave Matthew, Colleen, Brian, and me! And Papa, don't leave Mama! Say you're sorry. She'll understand."

Sully pulled back and looked into his daughter's eyes. His heart was breaking, and he knew that if he didn't leave now, he never would. He disentangled himself from his daughter's embrace, and stood up from the bed.

"I gotta go now, Katie. I gotta go, Sweet Girl. I'll see you later. I love you."

Now, Katie was crying almost too hard to speak, but she managed to say, "I love you too, Papa," before her tears overwhelmed her.

The sounds of his daughter's pain were too much for Sully to bear. He quickly made his way to the stairs, and carefully surveyed the top floor, as though committing it to memory. Then climbing down the staircase, he walked to the door, not pausing to look back at his wife whose position had remained unchanged, opened it and beckoned Wolf to follow before shutting it definitely behind him.

The minute the door closed behind her husband, Michaela's world went black, and she collapsed to the floor.


This is my first fan fiction and I would appreciate any and all feedback, so please feel free to review the chapter and any subsequent chapters if you think they are of interest either here or be orginal and comment on the "Stand By Me" thread of the fanfiction section of the Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman forum The link to the thread is: http/forum.drquinn.us/viewtopic.php?t3949

Thanks, Corinna