Believe it or not, I'm not Beth Sullivan or CBS and so I don't own these characters, their just on lease.

Worlds Apart

Chapter 1

Michaela Quinn was five years old when she stood next to her baby brother's grave. In truth, she had no concept of what was happening. She didn't grasp the magnitude of this little ceremony, or that the little coffin she saw lowered into the grave held the body of a brother she never knew. She didn't understand the words that the strange man in black was saying as he clutched at the handful of dirt in his hand, but the one thing Michaela did know was that her father was crying and for that, she felt that she should be upset as well.

"Mike, princess, there's something I must tell you." He watched as Michaela turned over in her bed and looked up at him so innocently. He had no idea how to explain something like this. He didn't even know how to begin.

"What father?"She yawned; her singsong voice was small and bright, without a care in the world. Death was too hard a lesson to learn at five years of age.

"Do you remember me telling you about your little brother?" Michaela smiled.

"The baby?" She had been so excited when she was first told she would get to be a big sister. Much to her mother's dismay, Joseph had insisted on explaining to his little Mike all about 

babies and how they came to be, with certain discretion of course. "Is the baby here, father?" She sat up expectantly in the bed and tugged on his sleeve. Why wouldn't he look at her?

"No, princess, the baby isn't here." Reaching over to her, Joseph pulled her into his lap, cradling her little body to his chest. It was a comforting move, but one meant to comfort him more than the little girl in his arms. "The baby had to go to live in heaven." Michaela's brow furrowed, trying to understand what that meant.

"So it's not here?"

"No."

"And it's not coming?"

"No."

Michaela lay her head on her father's chest. She knew that this was supposed to be something big, but she wasn't sad. She hadn't known the baby. He wasn't a fixture in her life; just a little thing that had been talked about for several months and now he was gone, but nothing in Michaela's life had changed. She couldn't bring herself to feel anything. However, looking up, against her father's chest, Michaela could see a tear roll down his cheek. The tears glistened in the hall light before disappearing into his thick beard. Lifting her hand to Joseph's face, she wiped at his cheek with her flat little palm.

"Don't cry, father." She whispered before planting a kiss to his cheek.

That had been nearly three days ago. Now, Michaela found herself, still in the swirl of sadness and confusion, struggling to understand what everything meant. Squeezing her father's hand, she tucked herself into his side, attempting to allude the crisp autumn breeze. She watched as the man in black said a few last words and then her father sprinkled some dirt on the little grave. Hopefully now, things would be back to normal. They could go home again. However, despite her sincerest wish, this was not to be. Two days later, Michaela Quinn stood in this very same spot and watched as they buried her mother.

Three months before no one could have imagined that heartbreak like this was just around the corner. They couldn't have known that amongst the joy and celebration of Maureen Quinn's marriage a dark shadow would soon fall upon the happy little family. Everything was just so perfect, too perfect really. Maureen's new husband, Jonathan Scott simply adored his new wife and doted on her with complete devotion, and Maureen thought she was living a fairytale. The only disappointment she could claim was that her husband's occupation as assistant professor at Virginia Military Institute required the young couple to move Lexington. Maureen, having never lived outside of Boston had never anticipated moving so far from her family, but she was willing to try, and Jonathan promised that her family was welcome to visit all they wanted.

The first visit was completely Elizabeth's idea. She wanted to make the trip to visit her daughter before the baby arrived, knowing that it would be quite a while before she could venture out after her confinement. Elizabeth had been anxious to help her daughter settle her new household and likewise, Maureen was in desperate need of advice on carpeting and furniture. Marjorie was anxious about seeing a new state and Michaela was excited about riding in a train. Joseph, who took too much joy in seeing his family happy, couldn't possibly say no to the visit.

Elizabeth was supposed to have had time to make this trip. After all, the baby wasn't expected for another ten weeks, but it simply was not meant to be. Two days before they were to return home, Elizabeth began to bleed. Contractions followed not too far behind and soon she was in full fledge labor and even Joseph was powerless to stop it. It was known from the start that the baby wouldn't make it. It was just too early, but no one anticipated the puerperal fever to set in, taking Elizabeth's life not three days after her only son's birth and death.

Although Michaela had a difficult time understanding her brother's death, she immediately missed her mother's presence. For the first few nights, she often woke in tears, crying for her mother in the darkened little room of her sister's house. Joseph had taken to sleeping in the chair next to her bed, refusing both to leave his youngest daughter alone and to return to the little room, which he had shared with his wife. As difficult as it had been for him to explain to Michaela of her brother's death, her mother's passing was much, much worse.

"Your mother needed to be with the baby in heaven, so he wouldn't have to be alone. She's going to be his mother in heaven." He had explained patiently, hoping that this would be all he needed to say, but nothing could have prepared him for Mike's next question.

"Why doesn't she want to be my mother anymore?" The question knocked the air out of him chest. This wasn't the way he wanted Michaela to remember her mother. He didn't want her to think she had been abandoned.

"Oh, but she'll always be your mother, Mike. She just has to live in heaven now."

Now, Joseph found himself once again standing numbly beside a freshly dug grave, preparing himself to spread the broken earth across his wife's grave. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. His world was slowly crumpling around him. No, that wasn't true. He still had many blessings. He had five, beautiful daughters who all had hopes and dreams that were slowly becoming realities. He still had little Mike, who was too young to understand everything by herself, and Marjorie who was only ten. She would need help making sense of all this as well, and he had to do the best for them that he could, but right now, he was just numb.

Completely unaware to the raindrops that were beginning to fall from the sky, Joseph merely held Michaela closer as he balanced her on his arm. He could feel her little hand clutch at the folds in his jacket as the service passed around them in a haze. Then, he became slowly aware of the fact that the prayer had been said and everyone was dispersing. What next?

Joseph needed to talk. He needed someone to help him figure out his next steps and he needed to go to a place where he could let his guard down. He didn't have to think. He knew immediately what he was looking for. Margaret. From the beginning of the service, Joseph was aware of his sister's presence. He knew that she had come not only to pay her respects to her sister- in law but to support her brother as well. She would help him. She would give him the strength he needed so, or at least keep him safe until he found it again. As if in a trance, Joseph began to make his way over to his faithful ally, unaware of the people who walked around him. He made only a few steps before a hand at his back broke the spell.

"Father…" Rebecca did her best to speak quietly, but loud enough to gain his attention. She had never seen him quiet like this, alone and distraught. He was always so strong, so jolly. This side truly frightened her. She was afraid he wouldn't be able to recover from this. "Father… Maureen and Jonathan have returned to the house to prepare for the wake. Claudette and I were going to take the girls with us, will you come too?"

"I can't. I… I need to be alone, to think." Rebecca nodded her head gravely.

"Claudette is already taking Marjorie to the carriage." She whispered, unsure of whether he heard her or not. Pausing for a minute, she scanned her father's eyes before slowly moving to pull Michaela into her arms.

"Nnnooo." Michaela whined as she struggled from her oldest sister's embrace.

"Come with me, Michaela. It's alright."

"No, Becca! I wanna stay with Father." Burying her face into her father's neck, Michaela wrapped her arms around him making it nearly impossible to be pulled from his grasp. She could feel him as he took a deep breath beneath her; his hand ran up her back soothingly.

"It's alright, Rebecca. She'll stay with me." His voice was quite and sad, but it reflected understanding. She had been through so much. She had lost a brother and a mother. Of course, she didn't want to leave her father. He was her best friend; her constant. "Don't worry about us. We'll be with your Aunt Meg." With a soft pat on his oldest daughter's shoulder, Joseph left to find his sister.

The clanking of teacups against saucers filled the quiet little room, slicing through the oppressing atmosphere like a knife. Joseph sat, elbows on knees staring down at the shallow film of tea that just covered the bottom of the china cup.

"Let me pour you some more tea, darling." Margaret Quinn whispered to her brother's broken form as she tugged on the cup, pulling it out far enough to pour more warm liquid into its center before returning it to its original position. Taking her own cup and sitting, she once again released them into the silence that shrouded the little room. Neither of them spoke.

Meg sincerely believed that if there wasn't anything that could be said, there wasn't anything that should be said. Sometimes words simply weren't enough. There was nothing that could be said to make this better; there wasn't anything that she could say that her brother hadn't already heard from family or struggled to tell himself. She didn't see any point in repeating those words. Comforting words repeated too often were quickly void of meaning.

It was by no means an uncomfortable silence. Actually, it was quite the opposite. It provided the ability for Joseph to sit, uninterrupted and think through the events of the week. To begin to understand what all of this meant was invaluable. It gave him the opportunity to begin to say his goodbyes, no pressure, no expectations. It was nearly an hour and a half before Joseph ventured to speak, allowing his mind wander to his biggest fears.

Looking up, Joseph glanced around the parlor, taking in the all too familiar surroundings. He had spent his boyhood in these walls, growing and learning lessons that made him who he was. It was here he found himself; he found his calling in the field of medicine, and he found his heart's desire. Elizabeth was only sixteen when she, the daughter of one of his father's acquaintances, stayed with them during her visit to the South. He had taken one look at her and known that Elizabeth Barnett was the woman he would take as his bride. He only had to convince her of that. Now, these very same walls seemed to be mocking him, laughing at his foolish dreams and destroying his hopes. Embittered, Joseph thought back to those pure days and fought back a laugh. How could he be so foolish to believe that he could have it all? It was merely a childlike fantasy to believe that they could be so happy.

"I shouldn't think you would want to travel that path long. Bitterness is not becoming of my dear brother." Meg cocked her head to one side as she considered the defeated man sitting before her. Her words weren't meant to be condescending; just a gentle tug on a string to pull his mind back from the shadow land in which he walked, and they were successful. Looking up to her, Joseph sighed.

"I was just thinking about how much this house reminded me of when we were kids."

"Oh yes, you were a naughty little rascal."

"I was no such thing."

"Really? Then what do you call a boy who plays catch in the dining room and manages to break every piece of china in the house?" Joseph winced at the memory, temporarily forgetting the constant throb that radiated through his body.

"I wasn't able to sit for days after that."

"And if I remember correctly we didn't see you for dinner for nearly a week." Meg's voice was light and reminiscent as she watched the memory flash across Joseph's face. His lips curled into a tight smile under his ashen beard. Meg let him remember it only for a moment before gently adding her point. "Life is rarely the perfection we seek it to be. We merely must learn how to make it through the pain and survive to see the future."

Once again, the air fell with a solemn hush as Joseph struggled to voice the concerns that were plaguing him. Why must he think when thoughts made no sense? Why couldn't he just speak? It was only Meg who would hear his words; he didn't have to pretend with her. Raising his teacup to his lips, Joseph took the last sip before speaking.

"What do I do now?"

"You find a way to carry on, if only for those girls."

"Rebecca and Thomas have already offered to take Marjorie and Michaela in, to raise them." Joseph's voice was solemn as he admitted this new fact. It was something that he hadn't been able to ignore. Could he do that, just give his daughters away? He knew that very few widowers raised their children after their wives dies. Often times the children were shipped to aunts, sisters, or grandparents, left to put their lives together by themselves. In truth, Joseph had always detested this practice. Why would one want to break up a family more than it already was, but then again he never considered that he too would one day be in this situation.

"You don't think this is a good idea?"

"I don't wish to tie Rebecca and Thomas down to raising her sisters when they have hardly been wed over a year." Silence once again fell over the siblings as Meg picked at the embroidery on her armchair. This moment had crossed her mind multiple times over the past few days as sheconsidered what she would do. Now that the moment arrived, her desire to ease her brother's pain made her decision for her. Heaving a sigh, she placed her teacup on the service.

"They are more than welcome to come and stay here. Katherine and I will do our best to raise them in the manner in which you and Elizabeth had planned."

The way Elizabeth and I planned. Why did this change anything? Why couldn't he continue to raise the girls? Because you know nothing about raising daughters in Boston society…, but you could learn. Joseph's mind wandered to Marjorie. Of all his daughters, she was the biggest mystery to him. It was so difficult to relate to her on the simplest terms, and at ten years of age, she would be needing a mother more than ever. She needed a female role model to teach her and help mold her into the young woman she would become, but there were schools for that, fine finishing schools that would be able to teacher her all these things and much more. Joseph had no doubt that Marjorie would thrive at such an institution but what about Michaela? She was far too young.

Thinking about his baby girl made Joseph's heart swell with pride. Closing his eyes, he could see her in his mind's eye. Her long caramel tresses blowing in the wind, as her beautiful mismatched eyes dance with joy. He could hear her joyous laugh when he carried her to bed each night, and feel the way she slipped her hand trustingly into his each time she tried to manage the stairs. Michaela by far shared more qualities with her mother than any of her sisters put together, including her stubbornness. Joseph couldn't stand to part with that. He was already afraid that Michaela felt she had been abandoned by her mother; he didn't want her to grow up thinking he 

had abandoned her as well. No, the connection that they shared was much stronger than this. It would survive this trial. He could do this. Shaking his head softly, Joseph looked to his sister, taking the time to explain his gratitude before speaking his mind.

"Marjorie will thrive in a finishing school. She'll be able to stay at home during the summer and at Christmas and still have the education she needs."

"And Michaela?"

"I can't move her, Meg. I can't ask her to give up everything she's ever known. She's only five for goodness sake! She shouldn't have to grow up this fast." He cried his anger into the little room, his hand tightening into a fist.

"Do you think this is what's best for her?"

"I can do this for her. I can be her father and her mother."

"But Joseph, you know nothing about girls."

"I can learn…I can learn to be all she needs." His final words seemed to be more of an effort to convince himself.

Meg had watched patiently as her brother travelled the emotional road from shock to pain to anger. Finally, he had settled into determination, and she automatically understood that there was no changing his mind once it was settled. Stubbornness was an infamous trait of the Quinn clan and once a decision was made there was no going back. Rising from her seat, she moved to her younger brother and leaning over, she planted a kiss to top of his head.

"If there is ever anything you need from me, never be afraid to ask me. I will do anything for you and those girls." Joseph pulled his sister down to sit next to him on the sofa before wrapping her in a tight embrace.

"You're my angel Meg."

Michaela sat huddled in the window seat in the large library, staring helplessly out the window. She watched as the rain poured from the heavens, drenching the earth below, turning all the bright colors of autumn into shades of drab grey and green. The wind was blowing hard, causing the large branches of an oak tree nearby to bend to the window, tapping it in a ghostly rhythm. Raindrops landed on the dark green leaves before rolling down the smooth surface and dropping silently to the ground. Drop after drop made this journey. It looked as if even the trees were crying. Wordlessly, Michaela wiped at her own tears making the track down her cheek.

No one knew she was in the library. The last anyone had heard of her was shortly after Joseph had arrived with Meg. He carried his young daughter's tired body straight upstairs and lay her down in one of the oversized beds, making sure she was still asleep before he left her there, but as with the nights past, Michaela woke wanting her mother. Instead, she found herself alone in a strange room. Sniffling, the little girl rolled off the edge of the enormous bed and landed on the floor. Michaela knew that her father hadn't gone far. He would never leave her; he probably just went some place where he didn't have to be quiet when she slept but she was awake now. He could come back. Turning toward the door, she set out to search for her father.

Michaela struggled with the steps as usual as she made her way into the Great Hallway. Standing at the foot of the stairs, she looked left then right trying to decide where to start. Everything was just so big! It felt as though she could spend days in this house and never find anyone. Slipping a finger into her mouth, Michaela began to chew at her fingernail nervously. That's when she heard the china rattle. Smiling broadly, she jaunted off to the sound. However, as she got to the entrance of the parlor, she didn't continue into the room. Instead, she stopped dead in her tracks and, hugging herself unseen against the doorjamb, watched the scene before her.

Her Father was sitting on a black little sofa, bent over with his head hanging low; he was holding a teacup in his hands. Michaela frowned. He was sad. She watched as the strange woman Father called Meg came into view, standing over her father's figure as she whispered something to him. Michaela knew that she wasn't wanted here. She would only make things worse. Once again slipping her finger into her mouth, she turned from the door. Her eyes brightened a little when she way the library door standing wide open across the hallway. At home, when she was sad or lonely, the library full of books always helped. Maybe this one would too. Timidly, Michaela walked across the hall and stuck her head into the room. The large space with the tall oak paneled walls and large floor to ceiling windows took her breath away. Surely she wasn't supposed to be in a room so beautiful, but what if…? Looking back to the room where her father was sitting, she made certain that no one was watching her. Why did she feel as though she was doing something she shouldn't? She had always been allowed in the library at her house. This wasn't any different. Summoning her own courage, she turned back to the massive room and stepped inside.

After choosing a book and pulling herself up to the window seat, Michaela quietly sat and watched the rain fall outside. It was strange sitting by the window. Looking up, and to the side, and on all directions, Michaela felt as if she were actually sitting in the rain. It looked as each drop was dropping to her, threatening to soak her to the core and yet she stayed completely dry. The raindrops couldn't reach her. Nothing could reach her. Michaela felt alone and scared. She didn't understand why this was happening, and she wasn't sure what would happen next. Looking back to the parlor, where she knew her father still sat, Michaela felt a strange emotion tingle through her body.

What frightened Michaela the most was her father. She had never seen him without a smile before and now he was crying all the time. It all had started when Mother left and with the completion of that thought, Michaela's little beating heart stilled, sending shivers up her back. Would Father leave too? He couldn't… he couldn't go away now. What would she do then? 

Where would she go? Father had always been there. He was the one that carried her to bed each night and rocked her when she had a nightmare. He read to her on the rainy days and told her stories about the hospital. Michaela didn't want to do those things by herself; she didn't know how. He couldn't leave her, then she would be all alone. Michaela was scared to be alone.

Lowering her head back to the book laying upon in her lap, Michaela scratched at the black and white illustration with her half chewed fingernail, watching as a tear rolled down her cheek and landed on the page, discoloring the paper.

"Don't be sad."

The strange voice startled Michaela, making her jump as she looked up urgently. Turning to the sound that had interrupted her thoughts, she struggled to wipe at her tears. There, standing in the doorway was a boy, about her age with ruffled brown hair and bright olive skin. He was watching her intently with these piercing blue eyes that made Michaela shudder as she stared back at him, unsure of what to say.

"What?" She watched as the boy shoved his hands into his pockets and wandered over to where she was sitting.

"Don't be sad." He repeated as if that was all that needed to be said. Michaela sniffled and attempted to wipe the rest of the tears away, hoping to destroy all evidence that they ever existed.

"I can't help it."

"'Cause your ma died?"

"How do you know?"Michaela wrinkled her forehead as she stared up at the boy standing next to her.

"I heard Ma an' Miss Meg talkin' this mornin'." His lips tightened into a thin straight line as he shoved his hands deeper in his pockets. The boy paused for a moment, diverting his eyes from the tear strain face in front of him as he waited for her to say something, but she didn't open her mouth. Rocking back and forth in the silence, he searched for something, anything to say. Taking a breath, he pulled his hand from his pocket and offered it to the strange girl as he had seen his pa do many times. "My name's Sully. My ma n' pa work here for Miss Meg."

Shifting her gaze from his face to his hand, Michaela watched as her hand reached out and took his. "I'm Michaela."

"You're Miss Meg's niece." Michaela merely nodded. Once again, Sully's face fell as he watched tears well behind his new friend's already red rimmed eyes. He lowered his eyes, feeling like he bothered her when she would rather be by herself. He always liked to be by himself when he was sad. "I'm sorry about your ma." He whispered as he turned to leave the little room, but he was stopped by a slight tug on his hand.

"Please don't go." Michaela found it within her to openly sob now, her shoulder's heaving as she struggled to take a deep breath. As Sully moved closer to the bench where she sat, he let go of her hand and let her lean on him before wrapping his arms around her the way his ma always did when he cried. He bit the inside of his cheek as he thought about his ma. He couldn't imagine what it would be like for her to go away and not come back. It was enough to make him want to cry as well, but his ma was still here, it was Michaela's who had gone away. His heart broke for her.

"I'm scared, Sully." She whispered into the folds of his cotton play shirt, feeling his arms around her and his hand smooth at her hair. The repetitive motion was comforting, reminding her that she wasn't by herself anymore.

"It's ok ta cry." He whispered, standing stock still as her shoulders heaved against his chest. He subconsciously threaded his fingers through her hair as he turned out the window watching as the rain beat against the glass panes. It was storming so hard the he couldn't see anything outside. It was all a misty haze.

"What' going to happen to us?" Sully tightened his hold on Michaela as she whispered her biggest question, the question that lead to all her fears. Resting his chin on top of her head, he held her steadily. Her tears, like the rain outside, continued to flow.

Ok guys, so here's the new story. I'm excited to see what you think!