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X.O.X
Saturday, 15th May, 1869
One Day Later
X.O.X
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Michaela felt the blanket of darkness lifting slowly from her, as if she were rising upwards, through a dark misty fog, suddenly being aware of noises around her.
Opening her eyes slowly, she struggled to see through the blurriness. She could hear voices, they were familiar, yet seemed to be far away, echoing in her ears.
Michaela felt the pain in her lower body once again, drawing a sharp breath as she sensed the touch of flesh against her right hand. Pulling her hand away instinctively, Michaela felt a wave of nausea fall over her, her mind and body reliving the experiences of the last few days.
Fighting for breath, Michaela felt a tightness in her chest, a tingling down her arms as panic washed over her, her blood running cold. Caught in two worlds, Michaela heard a voice nearby, seeming to increase in volume.
Trying to push against the sights, sounds and sensations her memory was inflicting upon her, she heard the voice continue, feeling a hand touch her once again.
Desperately struggling to separate memory from reality, Michaela tried to move, this time a hand was placed on her shoulder, preventing her from moving. Her mind in turmoil, trying to unlock herself from the fear consuming her, Michaela suddenly comprehended the voice next to her.
"Ma? Ma, wake up," Brian whispered, squeezing her hand tightly.
"Ma, it's Colleen, it's all right, you're in the Clinic. Ma?" Colleen removed her hand quickly from Michaela's right shoulder, seeing the terror cross her face.
Michaela turned her head, allowing her eyes to settle on the two familiar faces, she felt the anxiety slip away slowly.
After several moments, her eyes adjusted, and she could be certain the voices were those of her children.
"Ma, it's just us," Colleen reassured, pulling Brian's hand from Michaela's arm, mindful of the negative effect it was having on her. The little boy turned in protest to his sister's actions, being quickly hushed.
"Colleen?" Michaela whispered, her voice hoarse and weak.
"Yeah, it's me, Ma. Everything's all right. The surgery's over, you're fine." Colleen consoled.
"Surgery?" Michaela queried, taking several moments trying to remember what had happened.
Colleen paused before answering, not sure if Michaela was quite up to processing any new information.
"Yeah," the young girl replied, opting not to elaborate any further; the details could wait. "Have you got pain?" Colleen reached for the Laudanum bottle by the side of the bed.
Collen administered the teaspoon of medicine following Michaela's affirmative nod.
Michaela looked between each of the children as she gradually allowed her breathing to return to normal.
"Brian, how about you go downstairs and get Miss Dorothy? Tell her Ma's awake," Colleen whispered, sensing Michaela needed a break from Brian. The boy slipped from the edge of the bed, making his way towards the door.
Brian looked back at his mother worriedly as he left the room.
"Ma?" Colleen repeated, showing her the small bottle.
"Thank-you," Michaela whispered, leaning forwards awkwardly to consume the liquid.
Colleen settled her chin in her hands, tilting her head as she watched Michaela lie quietly.
Michaela, now feeling capable of sound thought, attempted to piece together the fragments of memory. Much of it was blurred, however, she remembered moving, walking. Michaela also remembered holding something in her right hand. Narrowing her eyes slightly, Michaela tried to recall what it was. A scalpel. Yes. However, she was unable to put the vision into context.
Colleen noticed the troubled expression cross Dr Mike's face. Letting her arm fall back into her lap, the young girl leant forward slightly.
"Ma? Ma, what is it?" Colleen whispered.
"What day is it?" Michaela questioned, having lost all sense of time.
"It's Saturday, Ma. Dr Cassidy operated yesterday, and you've slept all night," Colleen replied, still not sure as to how much of the given information Michaela was actually comprehending.
Colleen watched as Michaela tried to add this information to the confused images swirling around in her head. Days didn't have any beginning nor end at this point, nor did a name she should have reacted to.
"Ma?" Colleen repeated, seeing Michaela's eyes glaze over again.
At that moment Colleen turned, as she had heard footsteps on the stairs. Michaela seemed not to have noticed.
"Well, how's everyone in here?" Dr Cassidy announced in his most pompous tone, as he strode into the room.
Dorothy followed closely behind the Doctor, gesturing with her left arm for Colleen to leave the room.
The young girl obeyed quickly, looking sharply back at Dorothy as Michaela remained oblivious to the happenings around her.
"I'll stay. It'll be all right." Dorothy reassured, as Colleen flashed another concerned glance in her direction. "Wait downstairs with your brother." Dorothy placed her arm affectionately on the girl's shoulder as she left the room.
Dorothy turned back facing into the room, as Dr Cassidy set his medical bag down authoritatively on the side of the bed.
Michaela focused on the medical bag only a foot away from her, seeming to be fascinated by it, as she raised her head slowly, the blank expression on her face remaining, however her eyes slowly widening in childlike curiosity.
"Now then, you've certainly had enough time to sleep that surgery off, let's examine you." Dr Cassidy sat down on the edge of the bed, retrieving his stethoscope and reaching forwards to rest the bell on Michaela's chest.
Dorothy frowned at his intrusive actions, stepping closer towards the bed in protest.
"Surely you could be more sensitive, Doctor," The older woman objected, receiving a furious glare from the male physician.
"Are you questioning my medical judgment, woman! I have dealt with these types of cases before, you know!" He snapped quickly; Michaela drew her arms towards her chest in self-defense.
"Don't be childish, now, you know I'm not going to hurt you," Dr Cassidy insisted, reaching for Michaela's wrists, as he placed a hand against her cheek to check her pupil reactions.
Dorothy, her breath held, watched the scene play out in front of her, however, could not restrain herself any longer, stepping to the Doctor's side.
"Really, I don't think," Dorothy objected, Dr Cassidy turning instantly in her direction.
"Don't tell me what to do!" He growled, his voice low and gravelly.
Dorothy sensed the built-up air rush from her body as she picked up the edge of her skirt and raced from the room, halfway down the stairs before she was aware of the hot tears stinging her cheeks like needle pricks.
Dorothy felt a hand on her shoulder, looking up, expecting it to be Colleen.
"What's wrong?" Olive had heard the commotion from the recovery room downstairs, joining her sister-in-law on the stairs.
"I just, that man," Dorothy brushed the tears from her face, glancing up towards the top of the stairs.
"Didn't come across as the tactful type?" Olive rubbed Dorothy's upper arm consolingly.
"You can say that again." Dorothy muttered, sighing as she collected herself.
"Want me to sort him out?" Olive raised an eyebrow, fully capable of dealing with bullies.
"Oh, I don't know. Can you just make sure Michaela's all right. He weren't being overly sympathetic, I mean, I tried to say something, but he wouldn't listen to me." Dorothy was frustrated that she hadn't been able to defend her friend.
"I'll deal with him, don't you worry. 'Sides you've been cooped up here for days, what do you say I sit with Dr Mike for awhile, give you a chance to get some rest?" Olive suggested, half expecting Dorothy to refuse out of mere pride. The red-haired woman must have been truly tired, she deduced when Dorothy posed no resistance.
"Thanks. Olive," she paused about to say something, however sensed the lingering tension in the air, and determined that the brunette had been as cordial as she intended.
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X.O.X
~.~
"Mi, Michaela," Sully turned his head, his eyes flashing open quickly, looking around the room with confusion.
"Sully, it's Robert E. Just stay still," Robert E. quickly moved from his chair across the room, to Sully's side, a hand steadying his movements.
"I, where am I, my head," Sully squinted, suddenly being aware of the ache coming from the back of his head.
"It's all right. Dr Mike had to operate on you, remember?" Robert E. frowned slightly, thinking that Sully would have already been told this.
"Dr Mike? Michaela," Sully pushed against Robert E's arm once again, a vague traumatic memory coming back to him.
"She's upstairs, Sully. Please, just calm down," the Blacksmith begged, looking between the injured man and the doorway for any sign of support, should he need it.
"Robert E.," Sully spoke, slowly identifying more certainly the man by his side. "Robert E. something's happened, what's happened? How'd I get here?" Sully continued, a dark reality pressing in on him, although he wasn't able to recall exactly what it was.
"I'll talk to you, just promise you won't go moving around, or I'll have to get Matthew back in here." Robert E. waited until Sully nodded in agreement, before taking a breath and recounting the events of the previous few days.
"Well, after we found Dr Mike Wednesday morning, Wolf," Robert E. gestured to the animal panting softly next to the edge of the bed, "came back into town and we went out looking for you again. Took two days, but eventually we found you. You were hurt bad, Sully. At the bottom of a cliff, unconscious. We figured you were gonna die for sure but Dr Mike operated on you later Thursday night," Robert E. trailed off, sensing that Sully wasn't really as concerned with the details of his own rescue as he was that of Michaela's.
"But, is she, she's all right?" He queried, phrasing the question hopefully, an abhorrent reality nagging at him, however hoping he was merely confusing events from many days prior. Sully inhaled slowly, waiting for the eventual reply.
"Sully, I didn't wanna be the one to have to tell you this," Robert E. watched the man's face crumple.
"I was thinkin' maybe it weren't true. That I'd imagined it somehow," Sully's voice was soft and weak.
As Robert E. prepared for the imminent movement that was to follow, both men turned at the sound of a male voice.
"Let's see what shape you're in today." Dr Cassidy made his presence felt instantly, resting his arm casually on the door frame as he took several steps into the room, approaching the bed, side and shooing Robert E. back towards the door.
"Out of my way, man." Dr Cassidy reached a hand to the bandage around Sully's head, carefully removing it, a challenge considering he was hell-bent on attempting to get to his feet.
"Will you just calm down, let me examine you," Dr Cassidy ordered, Sully extremely reluctantly obeying by at least ceasing his physical protest.
"Dr Mike, is she awake?" His voice was stronger, Dr Cassidy delicately exposed the sutured wound at the back of Sully's head.
"Was a few minutes ago, not exactly lucid, but awake." He had no comprehension of Michaela and Sully's friendship, aside from the fact that she wasn't married to him.
"I, I have to see her." Sully pulled away from the Doctor's grasp, groggily dragging his feet to the edge of the bed.
"Now listen, you'll stay here until I've finished inspecting your injuries. God only knows what kind of a mess that woman managed to make. Absolute miracle you're alive at all." Dr Cassidy felt the incision site, feeling the small circular hole in his skull, underneath the surface of sutured skin.
"My, my, aren't we determined. Another successful trephining procedure. Probably done purely to settle the score with me over that rider." He muttered under his breath, replacing the bandage and quickly checking Sully's vital signs.
"Now can I?" Sully inched towards the edge of the bed, barely waiting for the exasperated nod before getting unsteadily to his feet and moving quickly from the room.
"He's wasting his time," Dr Cassidy shook his head with resignation, as Robert E. followed Sully out into the corridor.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Olive brought the glass to Michaela's lips, brushing her hair from her face softly.
"Sorry I didn't get up here sooner. Dorothy was right, that man has no manners. What did he say?" She placed the glass on the small table beside the bed, at a loss as to what action to take.
Having helped Dr Mike drink several sips of water, Olive firmly believed it was time for someone to get her talking.
"Dr Mike, you gotta say something. Please?" Olive gripped the woman's hand securely. Whilst there was no visible response, Olive could not have known the degree of mental angst being inflicted upon her friend.
Unbeknownst to the children, Dorothy, Dr Cassidy or Olive, Michaela had been more than aware of everything going on around her. From the moment she'd pictured the scalpel in her hand, memories of the previous day had flooded back into her mind.
Sully. He'd been alive all along. Michaela had felt the overwhelming, guilt wash over her, turning her blood cold at the very realization. She's thought him dead from the moment her eyes had landed on his motionless form at the bottom of the cliff. Not wanting to believe it, she'd called his name; however, when there was neither movement nor reply, her worst fears were confirmed. From that moment on, Michaela had resigned herself to the belief that he truly had died in that fall, and with his death, so died her hopes for a future with him.
Vividly remembering the events that followed, Michaela wished she had done something differently.
Had I known Sully was alive, I would never have let them take me from the cliff. I would have fought to remain with him. I might have found a way to escape. Why did I let him drag me into the tepee; I should have resisted.
The inconsolable regret pitted in her stomach. All that time he'd been lying there, unconscious. All those days.
Olive studied Michaela's blank expression, knowing she somehow had to get through to her. Wanting to physically shake her by this stage, Olive squeezed her right hand tighter, repeating her name.
"Dr Mike, you don't say something soon, that Doctor's gonna send you away. Come on, I know you can hear me," Olive increased the volume and pitch of her voice.
There was a long pause before Michaela finally spoke, "Olive? Did I perform surgery?" Michaela looked down towards her right hand.
Waiting several moments, Olive realized she had to be honest.
"Yes. Thursday night, when the men brought Sully home. Apparently, he was bleeding in his brain, like Brian had, and you insisted on operatin'." Olive relayed the information, Michaela nodding in receipt of the information.
"Is he all right?" she whispered, after a significant silence.
Olive smiled quickly, nodding, "more worried about you than himself, as usual." She watched as Michaela's face fell.
"He knows?" she struggled to find her voice, once again looking away.
"I'm sorry, Dr Mike, we didn't have no choice," Olive frowned, hearing footsteps in the corridor.
Just as Olive turned in response to the noise, Sully appeared in the doorway, still gripping the frame after his long climb up the stairs. Although physically weak, his spirit had pulled him on, he knew he had to see her.
Noticing Olive sitting beside the bed, Sully's eyes quickly met Michaela's, she was the one to break the glance, lowering her head and turning away. Olive looked from the fire in Sully's eyes to Michaela's dropped head, deciding to leave them alone.
"I'll wait downstairs with the children. Sully, sit down." She rose to her feet and left silently; Sully remaining perched against the doorframe.
After several moments, Sully crossed the room, the only sound being his bare feet sliding across the wooden floorboards, taking a seat beside her bed. Michaela remained perfectly still, as he glanced from her hands, which were laying in her lap. His eyes narrowed when he took in the purplish-blue color of her bruised wrists. Looking quickly up to her brushed hair plaited down her back, Sully realized he couldn't see her face.
Her eyes.
He needed to see her eyes.
"Michaela, look at me," he whispered, wanting to reach out and hold her, wrap his arms around her frail shoulders as he had several days earlier. He couldn't, as much as he wanted to. Sully was about to repeat his request, tilting his head slightly as he heard what almost sounded like her voice, only smaller, thinner.
"I can't," she replied, lowering her head further to her chest, still at a forty-five degree angle from him so he could only see the back of her head and right ear.
Her response hit him like gunfire, he'd expected tears, silence, but not that. Feeling the guilt push up from his stomach, Sully studied the floorboards for several moments.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what to say. There ain't nothin' I can say can make things right. I just wish I coulda stopped it, I woulda done anything, I," Sully felt the tears land on his cheeks, knowing that mere words would never be able to undo the hurt that he had allowed to happen.
He too was replaying memories in his mind, wishing he'd done something differently during the struggle with One Eye. If only he hadn't been able to get him off-balance. Sully shook his head, knowing that trying to turn back time was pointless. He swallowed; it was the here and now that mattered, nothing else.
"Michaela, please. Look at me, talk to me." Sully felt as if his heart was being gripped by a vice, he needed to hear her voice, see her face.
She turned further away, clasping her hands together in her lap. "I don't want to see you," she whispered.
Sully removed his hand and set his jaw firm. It was true, he realized; she blamed him every bit as much as he blamed himself.
"God, I'm sorry Michaela. I'll let you rest," Sully stood slowly, not wanting to leave her side, but not wanting to cause her further distress.
"When you're ready, I'll be here," he whispered, certain she didn't want him around, however wanting to assure her he did not blame her for what had happened.
He loved her more in that very moment than he'd ever imagined. He'd have given anything to feel the pain for her, to spare her the humiliation and gossip he knew would follow. He'd have given his life for her, if only that had been enough. He'd have died a thousand times out there if he could have prevented this happening.
Glancing at her a final time before departing from the room, Sully reminded himself once again that it was futile.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Now, she's to stay in bed, and restrict all movement as much as possible. All going well, I'll remove the sutures on Monday, and assuming there are no further problems, I'll leave on the next stage; Wednesday isn't it?" Dr Cassidy queried, looking up at Dorothy.
"That's correct." Dorothy nodded, resting her hands on Brian's shoulders as he squirmed restlessly in front of her.
"Right, I'll head back to the Saloon. Feel free to send for me should you need any medical assistance. A few days rest will do me good." He smiled, tipping his hat as he made his way out of the Clinic door.
"So, can we see Ma again now?" Brian pulled away from Dorothy's grasp eagerly, looking up at her.
"Well, I don't know about that, sweetheart, Sully's spending some time with her." Olive informed the two children, having been standing across the room gazing out of the front window.
"No, he's not," Came a dark voice from the corridor, the three looking up as Sully entered the room slowly.
"Sully!" Brian rushed to his side, hugging him.
"Hey Brian," he trailed off, looking awkwardly at Dorothy, returning the hug weakly.
"How about you two go up and see if your ma wants something to eat?" Dorothy smiled as Brian and Colleen quickly left the room, arriving at Sully's side as he leant once again against the doorframe.
"You don't look so good," Olive ventured, seeing his bloodshot eyes and downcast glance.
"Didn't go so well," he whispered, Dorothy cringing slightly, disappointed at the outcome.
"Doesn't surprise me. She's been out of it since we got you back Thursday. Dorothy, you said she seemed all right up 'til then, talking and all," Olive looked to her sister-in-law for confirmation.
"Well, ah yes, she was. I suppose," Dorothy considered the fact that Michaela's change in mood coincided specifically with Sully's return.
"So, then it's me? Thought as much," Sully muttered, letting his eyes drop closed.
Olive and Dorothy met eyes immediately, each about to refute his statement, however realizing that perhaps there was some truth in it.
"Just give her some time, Sully. You need to rest as well." Dorothy instructed, resting her hand on his upper arm.
"Can someone tell me what happened?" He looked between each of the women, raising his head slightly.
"I don't think-" Dorothy began, Sully quickly cutting her off.
"I said tell me. I feel like I'm in the dark," he reiterated, looking at Olive pleadingly. She nodded to Dorothy, who slowly began retelling the events since Michaela's rescue.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"I told you, you're leaving on the next stage. Ain't nothin' of interest here." Hank poured two shot glasses of whiskey, handing one to the reporter.
"I'm afraid I have to disagree with you there, all sounds mighty interestin' from where I'm sittin'." Eli quickly downed the drink, the pair looking up as Dr Cassidy entered the Saloon, gazing around distastefully at the run-down interior.
"Ah yes, Hank wasn't it?" He recognized his replacement rider immediately, greeting him with a warm smile.
"Doc Cassidy, what can I get ya?" Hank smiled, offering him a drink.
"Just a whiskey, with my thanks," the gray-haired physician replied, tired from a night cramped in the Clinic.
"Of course. Oh, allow me to introduce, Eli Woods here, from the Denver Herald." He gestured to the red-haired man by Dr Cassidy's side.
Thomas took a long sip of his drink.
"That's Rocky Mountain News, and you are?" Eli extended his hand with a weak smile.
"Doctor Thomas Cassidy, M.D." he shook the reporter's hand warmly.
"For such a small town, we seem to be inundated with doctors, don't we?" Eli smiled, motioning for Hank to refill his glass. "I'm guessing you're here as a result of all this unpleasantness, got you mopping up, so to speak." Eli settled into the bar stool, Hank looking very uneasily between the two new men.
"Well, you could say that, yes. I'd imagine you're here to report it all?" Dr Cassidy continued, spying the opportunity for some publicity.
"You'd imagine correctly, my good man. How'd you fancy featuring in a front-page article?" Eli nudged Dr Cassidy's arm encouragingly.
"I've never been able to refuse a chance at, shall we say, getting my name around. I'd be surprised if you and I can't strike up a deal," Thomas Cassidy replied, quickly finishing his drink.
Hank shook his head as he again refilled their glasses, sighing as he watched the men plot their story.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Brian reached the top of the stairs, pacing down the corridor towards Michaela's room. He stopped at the ajar door, lowering his head when he heard the sound of crying.
"Ma?" He whispered, resting his small hand on the doorknob, sliding carefully through the doorway, slipping into the room.
Michaela reacted immediately to the noise, dropping her hands from her face and brushing the tears from her eyes.
"Brian," she acknowledged, gesturing for the young boy to sit on the edge of the bed beside her. He tentatively obeyed, having been chastised for the same behavior only several days earlier.
"Colleen's gettin' us some lunch," he informed her, watching as she took his hand, their fingers interlocking. Michaela nodded, her left arm stoking his back.
"Ma?" Brian began, however silencing and turning his head away, fascinating himself with his untied shoelace dangling towards the ground.
"What's the matter, Brian?" Michaela knew her son too well, aware of when he was trying to hide something.
"Noth, Nothin'," he stuttered, shaking his head.
"Brian, you know you can talk to me about anything," Michaela became conscious of a lump in her throat, not sure if she truly meant 'anything'.
"Are you mad at Sully?" The young boy asked, flashing a glance at her, before quickly returning his eyes downwards towards the floor.
Michaela felt a knot form in her stomach at the mention of his name, and from the expression on Brian's face he knew more than his words let on.
"Of course not, Brian. What makes you think that?" She tilted her head to the side, forcing him to meet her eyes.
"I dunno, just what people been sayin'," the young boy squirmed slightly, feeling incredibly conflicted.
"What have they been saying?" Michaela queried, immediately faced with the reality that the events from the last few days would now be anything but private.
"That what happened was his fault. Coz he said he was gonna find ya and he didn't." Brian concluded, idly kicking the backs of his shoes with each foot in turn.
Michaela let her eyes drop closed momentarily, choosing her words carefully.
"Brian, I do not blame Sully. Don't you ever think otherwise. No matter what anyone says." She gripped his shoulder, forcing him to look at her again.
"I didn't think ya woulda, but Matthew," Brian stopped abruptly, chewing on his lower lip.
"Matthew blames him?" Michaela frowned, feeling overwhelmed by the disclosure.
"Yeah, he thinks Sully was just trying to play the hero, not letting everyone go out to look for ya. That we shoulda let him die." Brian dropped his head, a familiar awkwardness creeping over him.
Michaela was speechless for several moments, Brian's words playing over in her mind. Taking a moment to decide how to handle this, she kept her expression blank, and turned to the boy.
"You don't believe that, do you?" She knew Brian had not agreed with his brother, or else he wouldn't have needed to discuss it with her.
"No," he answered quickly, feeling isolated. He glanced quickly from his mother back down towards the floor, having been confused by all the displays of raw emotion he'd witnessed over the past few days.
"Brian? You look sad?" Michaela tried to lean closer towards him, fighting physical discomfort and uncertainty.
"I missed ya," he whispered, his jaw trembling as he tried to hold back the tears forming in his eyes.
"Oh, Brian," Michaela reached forward, arms outstretched to engulf the small boy in a hug. Feeling the physical contact, Michaela was compelled to look downwards, as if to dissuade the automatic anxiety within her. Satisfied by the realization that it really was Brian, she began stroking the child's blond hair.
"Ma, I'm sorry ya got hurt," Brian rested his head against her chest, allowing the tears to drop to his cheeks. Michaela's arms tightening around his back in response to his weeping.