Chapter 18

Michaela had barely settled down in her bed in room 417 and asked the nurse to send Sully and Daniel in, when a demanding knock at the door was heard. Without waiting for a Come in, a middle-aged man entered the room, followed by a younger one.

Disregarding Sully and Daniel's presence next to Michaela's bed, the older man approached her from the other side, introducing himself in a curt tone, "Detectives Olsen and Smith. We have a few questions for you."

Whilst Michaela was too stunned to react immediately, Daniel instantly snapped, "Shouldn't ya at least ask if she's ready to answer any questions?"

Olsen only gave him a cold look. "Well, Mister, I'd rather ask you to leave now unless you've been involved in the events in the ER. This is a police investigation and…"

"What are ya implyin'?" asked Sully, beside himself with anger about the cop's attitude. "That she's planned to be threatened with a gun?"

Detective Smith silently sighed. Like always, his partner had managed to anger witnesses right from the start, and it would be up to him to pour oil on troubled waters. "We just need to know what happened from the moment on when the Currier brothers showed up at the hospital," he explained to Sully before he turned to Michaela, continuing, "Like: why did they choose you to do the operation?"

Michaela furrowed her brow, attempting to recall the scene at the parking lot. "There was only the younger man first. I think he'd heard Anthony addressing me as Dr. Mike," she at last said.

"What's his full name?" Olsen chimed in, his pencils hovering over a notepad, ready to write.

Growing suspicious, Michaela wondered, "Whose name? Anthony's? What for?"

"For our report, of course." Olsen didn't hide his indignation, "This Anthony might have been involved in the plot."

Sliding higher into a sitting position and simultaneously pushing the button that lifted the head of the bed so she could lean against it, Michaela glared at the detective. "He's an eight year old boy and I'm positive that he was just happy to see me again," she refused to give more away.

Yet Olsen insisted, "His full name, Ma'am."

Seeing the vertical wrinkle between the woman's eyebrows grow steeper, Smith knew that this path of investigation would be a dead end. Thus he stepped closer to his partner, telling him diplomatically, "It might be easier for Dr. Quinn if she told us what happened. We can ask for the details later."

Olsen gave him a short nod accompanied by a scowl and stepped back so it was Smith who continued the questioning. Directing his inquiring gaze at Michaela, the young detective said in a friendly tone, "Just tell us how Brent Currier approached you, what he said and so on."

Somewhat relaxing against her pillow, Michaela composed herself before she began to report, "I'd just said goodbye to Anthony and his mother when I heard a man asking me from behind whether I'm a doctor. I said yes and then pivoted in order to face him and ask what his problem was. I looked straight at the muzzle of a gun though."

Michaela paused as the moment of horror came back to her, and she felt a chill claiming her body, making her shake inwardly.

Not noticing her discomfort, Olsen chimed in again, asking suspiciously, "He pointed a gun at you in bright daylight and no one noticed?"

"That's enough," Sully said determinedly, reaching for the alarm button and pushing it. "You gotta go now."

His eyes had only been on Michaela, and he hadn't missed the way she clutched the cover in her hands so tightly that her knuckles became white. Apart from that her face had drained all color again and he recognized her trembling ever so slightly. He was sure that it was the shock her boss had been talking about earlier, and he wouldn't allow anyone to upset her even more.

Before one of the detectives could reprimand him, the door burst open, revealing the head nurse on the threshold. "All men out here," she commanded, her posture making clear that she wouldn't take any counter. "This is a sick bay, no interrogation room. Dr. Quinn needs to rest."

Sighing in exasperation, Olsen closed his notepad. Stuffing it into his jacket pocket he announced gruffly, "We'll be back later."

"Not today," said a new voice matter-of-factly.

"Sam…" Michaela breathed, looking relieved at the new arrival. Although having a hard time to keep her tears in check, a tiny smile crossed her face. This was the person she needed right now.

xxx

Sully had only agreed to leave for a few hours because Dr. Lindsay had asked him to do so. She'd taken him aside and explained that, in order to avoid any additional stress, it would be best for Michaela if she could go through the aftermath of the shock on her own first. This way she could allow herself to let go of the control she put on herself as soon as someone else was present. When he'd, even though hesitantly, agreed, she'd patted his shoulder suggesting he'd take a timeout as well and come to her afterwards so as to talk.

Initially, he had automatically refused, but now he was glad that he'd changed his mind. It was early evening when he left the room of the psychiatrist, feeling a different person. Not only did he finally understand why his legs had refused to cooperate after his accident, but he had also learned from John, his physiotherapist, whom he'd called before the session with Dr. Lindsay, that within the next few weeks, he should be able to walk normally again. This would demand a lot of exercises though, but of course he didn't mind. He couldn't wait to tell Michaela, wanting to show her that he was back to his old self.

As he eventually rolled along the hallway towards Michaela's room, he heard brisk steps approaching him from behind. Not paying attention to them first, he continued on his way yet when he heard his name being called, he stopped. Looking over his shoulder he recognized the head nurse who'd just caught up with him.

"Mr. Sully," she said somewhat breathlessly, "you need to make Dr. Quinn eat something. She refused to have lunch, and I guess that's not the first meal she skipped lately. It's not my place to tell her off but someone should…"

As the alarm light above one of the sickbays turned red, she gave Sully en encouraging look before she hurried to her next task.

There was no question that Sully would comply with the nurse's wish. He knew about Michaela's eating habits from the time when she moved in with him: all she needed to prepare her meals was a coffee maker and a microwave, and she only ate when she remembered that she hadn't done it for a while. If he had dealt with the consequences of his accident like an adult and listened to Michaela instead to his anger and frustration... But it was useless to dwell on things he couldn't change anymore and thus he'd rather start with taking care of Michaela right away.

Clearing his throat and straightening his back, he braced himself for whatever awaited him behind the door to her room before he knocked at it.

"Oh, thank goodness it is you," Michaela welcomed him, sitting on the bed as he entered. Without pausing she continued, "The police claims they still need my bag with my cell phone in it, and since our dear head nurse refuses to allow me to go to a stationary phone, I haven't been able yet to call the Lawson's. Could you please inform them that I need to stay here tonight? I really wonder how they will cope. Zack is far away from…"

"Hey," Sully rolled closer, reaching for her fidgeting hands on the cover, stilling them, "Myra and Hank will do fine."

Carefully pulling her hands from beneath his, Michaela glanced at him. "That's rather wishful thinking. Zack had fits every single night since he arrived…"

"Michaela," Sully interrupted her, his voice serious.

Somewhat startled by his tone, she stopped talking, looking at him.

Seeing that she would listen to him now, Sully continued, "I know ya feel responsible, for this boy is kinda your patient. But right now, ya gotta help yourself first." He waited a moment so his words could sink in, not knowing that Sam Lindsay had used the same phrase when she'd talked to Michaela earlier.

Michaela acknowledged that they were right. It was easier for her though to think of others. This way she didn't have to hear that menacing voice anymore that asked her if she was a doctor. For a moment she wished she could hide in Sully's embrace from the world, but of course that was out of the question, and not only because they weren't so close anymore.

Although she didn't reply as she sank against her pillow, Sully was sure she agreed with him. Thus he allowed his tone to get lighter as he said, "I'll make ya a deal: I'm goin' to call Hank if ya promise to eat in the meantime."

Although he gained a scowl in response, he smiled at her, pushing the wheels of his chair so he rolled backwards to the door, promising, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

And so he was. He suppressed the grin that threatened to light up his face when he saw that she'd at least eaten the vegetables and was nibbling on an apple when he returned to her room.

"Myra says hello," he reported instead, "and that ya don't have to worry. They will manage." After a short hesitation he added, "And Dr. Alvarez assured me that it's all right when I spend the night with ya."

With that, he immediately earned another glower. Michaela couldn't speak right away because she was still chewing on her apple. Yet as she'd swallowed the bite, she said dryly, "I'm in a hospital, even in the department where I work. I'm perfectly safe; there is no need for you to stay."

Sully, however, didn't budge; he was determined not to leave her with a difficult night ahead. Her repudiation, however, gave him a slight idea of how she must have felt when he continued rejecting her.

"I understand if ya wanna get even with me," he said quietly, "but…"

"That's ridiculous," Michaela didn't make a secret of her annoyance as she cut him off, "you can't compare your refusing my help and excluding me from your life with my not wanting you to spend the night in a wheelchair."

Sully didn't contradict, in the contrary. Much to Michaela's astonishment, he agreed. "'Course not," he said, guiltily looking down at his hands he'd clasped in his lap. "I know there's no excuse for the way I behaved. But," at this point he looked up at her again, "if ya let me, I'd like to explain."

Averting her eyes, Michaela sighed. How could she deny him his wish when he approached her this way? Apart from that she knew, that his wanting to talk about his feelings was a large step forward in his healing process. And last but not least, she would be distracted from her own troubled thoughts.

"Alright," she eventually responded, settling into a more comfortable position, "I'll listen."

Running his hand through his hair, Sully contemplated how to begin. One thing was for sure: if he wasn't totally honest, he'd never get a chance with Michaela again. Hoping he would find the right words, he finally began, "When I saw ya lyin' on the floor… bleedin', all I could think was that I had to get to ya. Ya were so white and still and the thought I've lost ya for good was too much to take. I needed to be with ya, but there were all those cops so I couldn't move the wheelchair. I had no choice but walk, and so I just managed the few steps that brought me to ya."

"Wait," Michaela stopped him, bending forward animatedly so she could have a better look at his face, "did I understand right that you were walking?"

Seeing the excitement in her eyes, Sully sat straighter. "Only a couple of steps and then I fell," he affirmed sheepishly. "But when Dr. Lindsay asked us to leave for a while, I dialed John and told him what happened. He said we only need to rebuild the muscles, and then I'm as good as new. I'll see him in the morning, getting some crutches which means I can get home."

Seeing Michaela's expression harden, Sully wished the last words hadn't escaped him. But now that they were out, he hurried to give her the promised explanation.

"That day when I fell," he resumed his speaking, watching her reaction, "I'd planned proposin' to ya in the evenin'. But then the accident happened and I couldn't do it."

Michaela was fidgeting with the fabric of her cover again, avoiding Sully's eyes. She had decided to let him talk before she gave him her sight of things. However, learning that he had wanted to marry her already back then made a lump grow in her throat. She was positive that she wouldn't have rejected him that evening, and for a minute she wished she could turn back time. Yet of course she knew that that was silly. They should be thankful that they had seen sides from each other during the last weeks they'd never known before. This way, the disappointment came in time for them to realize that they were not meant to be a couple. At this thought, a deep sadness overwhelmed her and tears stung her eyes.

Sully, not taking his eyes from her, noticed the tears but knew better than to try to compose her, no matter how badly he wanted to do it. He rather continued, "And then I lay in bed all the time with nothing to do but think. And I started to believe that somebody'd wanted to tell me that I had no right to be happy again, that I had no right to ask ya for anythin' 'cause I would only ruin your life, too."

Although Michaela didn't respond, Sully could tell that she listened, trying to understand. Drawing courage from that fact, he told her that he'd seen how exhausted she'd been all the time and that he hadn't wanted to be a burden for her. "I know now that I've been wrong, that I only saw things from my side," he explained, his voice hoarse. "But I ain't gonna make the same mistake twice, I promise."

Feeling his expectant gaze, Michaela finally reacted. "Sully," she said, running the fingertips of her right hand along her brow as if to wipe away an unwanted thought. "I know you mean what you say, that you believe that we can master the next problem better. I fear though that it doesn't work this way. We can't live together, always being careful to not upset the other one. We would just bottle up our emotions and one day, they will burst free for you can't pretend to be someone else all your life."

Sully knew she was close to telling him she would move out, putting not only an emotional distance between them but a spatial too, but he would do anything to not let that happen.

"Alright," he said quickly. "You are right. As I said, I've made a terrible mistake but I've learned from it. All I'm asking for is to give us another chance."

As she opened her mouth to interject him, he added, "When we lived at the house just as friends, everythin' worked fine, remember?"

Michaela had to admit that he was right. Swallowing back her contradiction, she nodded mutely.

Encouraged, Sully suggested, "How 'bout we start over at this point? Bein' friends, sharin' a house?"

This thought was very tempting, and Michaela let it sink in. She had considered buying a condo but not contacted an estate agent yet. Staying in her apartment for now would gain her the time she needed to find herself the right object. And not to forget: she wouldn't have to leave Wolf right away. Actually, she could think of some more advantages, and after a few minutes, she gazed at Sully whose eyes had never left her face. "Just friends?" she asked.

"If that's what ya want," Sully agreed.

For the first time in weeks, Michaela truly relaxed. She'd never had a better friend than Sully. It would be good to have him back.

Their renewed friendship, however, would be tested soon.