I am sooooooooooo… sorry about not getting this chapter up as soon as I said, but there were complications in RL and of course the holidays where I spent as much time as possible with my family since I rarely get to see them. But here it is! Late but as promised! I hope that ya'll enjoy it!

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Chapter 24: Hafta Get Better

"Abby… Abby!"

Michaela wrung out the cloth she was using to cool Sully's forehead. The Cheyenne hunting party had found him two days ago; Michaela had only been able to send Walks on Clouds back to Myra with the message that she would be staying for at least a few more days. Her friend had spent the first day lying unconscious and then the last two days with a raging fever, delirious. He had cried out for his parents a couple of times, Hanna and herself as well, along with the names Will and Daniel – she did not know who they were – but mostly he called out for Abby. She ran the cooling cloth over his fevered face and neck.

"Abby! Abby, no! Don't go!" He tossed his head and his hands jerked on the skins. "Please!"

Michaela reached out a hand to smooth back his hair, a gesture hindered by his movements. "Shh…" she tried to sooth, knowing it was fruitless. "It's going to be alright, Sully." She blinked hard.

"Please, Abby!" His movements became a bit less violent. "Please!"

The doctor swallowed hard.

Sully had apparently worn himself out once again and was falling fully into unconsciousness once again, as he had been doing the last couple days. His head lolled to the side. "Abby…I'm…sorry…"

Michaela hung her head; tears rand down her cheeks to drip off her chin. It was killing her, watching how one of the few people in her life she had truly gotten close to was tortured by grief and self blame, especially over something that was not his fault.

The flap lifted; the copper haired woman looked up.

Cloud Dancing and Snow Bird took in Michaela's tearstained face and Sully's slack form. Their friend needed a break, she had been taking care of their patient near constantly leaving only to relieve herself; she even ate in the teepee.

The Cheyenne woman stepped forward. "You have visitors. Do not worry," she said quickly, "I will sit with Sully."

Michaela looked like she was going to argue but then she seemed to deflate and nodded. She rose, a little unsteadily from sitting so long, and followed the medicine man out.

The Cheyenne man lead her to the creek first, handing her a cloth; she looked at it in confusion for a moment but then realized that he was giving her the opportunity to wash up before facing whoever had come to see her. She smiled at him gratefully as she accepted the cloth and knelt down by the water.

Once she had washed her face and removed as much evidence she had been crying as possible she stood and followed Cloud Dancing toward the entrance to the camp.

Myra and Robert E. were standing next to the wagon, Hanna in the young woman's arms; they seemed unsure as to where they should look or how they should act.

Myra's eyes landed on Michaela and lit up. "Dr. Mike!" She quickly made her way toward the older woman.

The blacksmith relaxed and moved forward as well.

Michaela hastened her step and met them midway, her arms held out for her Goddaughter.

Myra gently placed the baby in her friend's arms. "Someone was missin' ya, so we thought we'd come out."

The doctor cradled the girl close, kissing the soft black curls on top Hanna's head; she cooed delightedly. She then turned back to the other woman and pulled her into a hug. "Thank you."

The hug was returned wholeheartedly. "Well, we were also kinda worried 'bout ya. Bein' gone so long and not tellin' us how long ya'd be gone for."

Michaela pulled back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you; I'm just not sure how long this is going to take."

"We just wanted t' check on ya. Not really knowin' what you're doin'; we was worried about ya."

The doctor's face melted into a grateful smile; sometimes she forgot that there were people who worried about her, but she was always thankful for them and the occasional reminder. She reached out a hand and clasped one of his. "I'm sorry about worrying you."

"S'all right, Dr. Mike. We know someone musta been hurt real bad here for ya to only send a message," Myra assured her. "Who is it?"

Michaela became very quiet, not sure how to reply.

Robert E frowned worriedly. "Dr. Mike, somethin' wrong?"

She bit her lip. "It – it's Sully."

The blacksmith jerked back in shock while Myra frowned thoughtfully for a moment before realization entered her expression.

"How – " Robert E's voice caught so he had to clear his voice. "How is he?"

Michaela held Hanna closer. "Not well. A hunting party found him badly beaten, lying in a creek," his jaw clenched, "he came down with a fever less than a day later." She bit her lip. "He's not doing very well."

"Can we see him?" he asked.

She nodded, leading them over to the teepee. Snow Bird looked up at their entrance; Michaela made quick introductions.

Robert E knelt down beside his friend; one of the first and only people to treat him as an equal, he placed a hand on Sully's shoulder. "Sully, ya listen good. Ya gotta get better. You're scarin' Dr. Mike and your little girl needs ya. So you just put any thoughts of dyin' outta your head, ya got it?" Sully's head tossed slightly, giving no other indication he heard.

Cloud Dancing appeared at the entrance of the teepee. "Dr. Mike, Snow Bird; Grey Eyes has made lunch."

"I'll stay here with Sully, so you can eat, Snow Bird." Michaela lowered herself next to Sully. "I can eat here."

Myra noticed the look the Cheyenne couple shared. "Well…I can stay with him, Dr. Mike," she quickly offered. "So you can eat."

"But Myra, aren't you hungry?"

The younger woman was already shaking her head. "I got t' eat before we left." She decisively sat down beside the sick man and took up the cooling cloth and wiped his forehead.

Michaela bit her lip indecisively. "Are you sure?"

Myra smiled up at her firmly. "Positive. Now ya go eat."

Michaela allowed herself to be drawn out of the teepee.

The petite woman sat for a while in silence contemplating the fevered man, curious about the father of Hanna, whom many of her friends spoke so highly of and missed so much. Right now it was difficult to tell much due to his badly beaten face and body; he looked very little like the man in the wedding picture on Dr. Mike's mantle. But somewhere in his face still visible was an innate kindness and goodness, showing the honorable man her friends described.

Myra wrung out the cloth and ran it across his forehead. "Mr. Sully…Sully…" she began, stumbling over her words slowly, "I-I know that…ya don't know me. I'm Myra; I'm friends with Dr. Mike and I help her take care of Hanna. She's a great little girl; we all love her lots and Dr. Mike is a great Ma to her, anybody'd tell ya. But I know she and the others really miss ya." She bit her lip and leaned closer to him, lowering her voice slightly. "Dr. Mike says ya ain't doing too good and she's real worried 'bout ya. And Hanna needs her pa. Ya hafta get better. And I still need to meet ya for real; everyone talks 'bout ya and I want to get to know ya like they do. I think we'd be real good friends. So ya gotta get better."

He sighed in his sleep.

Myra and Robert E left with Hanna to make it back to town just before sunset.

Sully's fever broke that night.

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Did any of you really think I was going to kill Sully? I love 'im and M'chaela too much. ;P Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think!