An Airwolf Christmas Carol
A/N – This story idea came to me after reading unwittingsidekick's excellent adaptation of A Christmas Carol – A JAG Christmas Carol. Events in this story will have nothing to do with my other two story arcs – in fact, they take place after the premiere episode of the fourth season, Blackjack. And for purposes of this story, Caitlin and Hawke are not romantically involved at the beginning. As usual, the characters belong to either Bellisario or Universal – I'm just taking them out to play with them once again.
Summary – After Hawke has yet another argument with Caitlin over his feelings about her, something happens that will change Hawke's life, and Caitlin's, forever.
Hawke sighed as Caitlin stormed out of the office on Christmas Eve afternoon, angry again over yet another argument about how he felt about her. She had walked into the office that morning holding a sprig of mistletoe over her head, and Hawke knew what she wanted from him. He just couldn't give it to her, and that had ruined both their days. Caitlin had sulked most of the day, refusing to even speak to Hawke until about an hour and a half before he closed up the office. That's when the real trouble started, because Caitlin's anger, which had been building throughout the day, finally boiled over. Once Hawke had gotten her calmed down, he had spent a half hour trying to get her to understand that it was nothing personal—he just didn't want to lose her the way he'd lost so many others close to him. Mom and Dad, Kelly, Saint John, Gabrielle, and now, Dom, he sighed to himself as he heard Caitlin's car roar off toward home. Hawke knew he didn't want to go back to the cabin, so he figured he'd just camp out at the hangar. After all, I've done it before, he said to himself.
Hawke watched her leave, and he was surprised to feel a tear trickle down his cheek.
Later, as Hawke got ready to get some sleep, there seemed to be a breeze blowing through the office, which imparted a chill into the air. Then, Hawke heard a voice call to him. "Hawke? Hawke?"
He turned, and found a ghostly image of Gabrielle Ademaur, the woman who had been Archangel's pilot when he'd first learned about the theft of Airwolf, four years ago. She and Hawke had become lovers, until she was sent on a mission to Libya to assist Hawke in the recovery of Airwolf, replacing Angela, the FIRM's operative there who Moffet had captured, tortured, and killed. Then, Gabrielle had been killed in much the same way that Angela was. Hawke quickly shook his head, trying to convince himself that the image in front of him wasn't real. But the ghost of Gabrielle would not go away.
"Yes, Hawke, it's me. And, I have something important to tell you. Tonight, you're going to be visited by three separate spirits—each one will have a message for you. Hawke, there's something you need to know—I wasn't the person you were meant to be with. But, the spirits will explain all. Listen to their lessons well."
"Gabrielle, you know I don't believe in ghosts," Hawke replied, then realized, If I don't believe in ghosts, how am I talking to her, now? Aloud, he continued, "What's going on here?"
"I can't tell you anymore, Hawke. Expect the first ghost when the bell tolls one." Hawke glanced at the clock on the mantle—12:30. "Only half an hour? Gabrielle, please! Wait!" But her image was already receding, and her voice whispered again, "When the bell tolls one, Hawke! Listen! Listen!"
"String? String?" A familiar voice, one that Stringfellow Hawke hadn't heard in years, roused Hawke from his slumber, which he'd only entered about fifteen minutes prior. Hawke opened his eyes and saw...
"Kelly? Kel, is that really you?" The image before him was that of Kelly, his high school girlfriend, and the girl he'd thought he would spend the rest of his life with, before the terrible car accident. "Kel, what are you? Oh, wait a second. Christmas past, right?"
"Right, String," her voice echoed in his mind. "Follow me. We've got things to see." She led him through the door of the office...
….And into what he assumed was the living room of Caitlin's childhood home. He could see her sitting on the floor surrounded by Christmas toys, clothes and other gifts, but something didn't look right to Hawke. Then he saw the tears in Caitlin's eyes, and her expression was one Stringfellow Hawke knew all too well, even though the face was several years younger than the face he knew so well. She looks almost the same here as she does today, Hawke said to himself, amazed. He wanted to just take the Caitlin-child in his arms and hug her, but Kelly stopped him. "Nobody knows we're here, Hawke. She can't see us, or hear us—and you can't touch her." Hawke turned towards the spirit of Kelly, shocked. "Yes, String. I know what you want to do—you want to hold her and make her feel better. But you can't. Just watch and listen."
Just then, Hawke heard the cries of another woman—Caitlin's mom, he guessed, as Kelly pointed him towards the bedroom. He walked with Kelly towards the door, but was surprised when they both passed through the wall and found themselves staring at Caitlin's mom, on her knees in front of the bed, holding a photograph. Hawke couldn't hear what Caitlin's mom said, nor could he see the image in the picture, but somehow, he knew. "Her dad? When?"
"Late on Christmas Eve," Kelly replied. "Cait was 12 years old. They had just finished dinner, and were getting ready to go to midnight Mass...but he had a heart attack. Maggie tried to help, and Cait called for paramedics, but he didn't make it. Rough way to remember Christmas, huh?"
Oh, wow, String mused to himself, as he suddenly understood why Caitlin always seemed to flip between especially down and serious Christmas overdrive during the holidays. "Why—why didn't she ever tell me, or Dom?" Hawke couldn't believe that Cait wouldn't share something like that with the two people she claimed were her closest friends.
"She didn't think you needed to know, String. Well, it's time for us to go. Come on." Kelly took him by the hand and led him through the door of the O'Shannessy home...
...And String woke up, back on the cot in the office. He quickly glanced around, just to make sure he really was where he thought he was, then leaned back against his pillow and tried to go back to sleep. What he had just experienced, he couldn't really describe. It had felt far too real to be just a dream, but it couldn't have been real, could it? Hawke knew Cait had never really talked about her dad, but couldn't believe Cait's father had been taken from her at such a young age. She was the same age I was when my parents died, Hawke mused to himself, as he dropped back into an uneasy slumber.
"String? Wake up, buddy. It's time to go." Another voice roused Hawke from his slumber, a voice he knew all too well.
"Dom? What? Oh. Christmas present, I get it. Okay, Dom...let's go," String sighed, resigned to follow this little dream (if that's what it truly was) to its conclusion. Together, they walked out the door of the office...
...Straight into the bedroom of Caitlin's apartment. Surprisingly, at least to Hawke, there were no Christmas decorations around, not even Christmas music playing. She sat on the floor in the bedroom, crying again, just as she'd been when he saw her before. She looked like she was holding something, but Hawke couldn't see what. Then, he felt himself being maneuvered to a position behind Caitlin, and what she was holding clearly came into focus—a picture of herself and Hawke, that Dom had taken just a couple of weeks before he died. They had reacted to some news about a new client, and had wrapped their arms around each other without even thinking about it, holding each other just long enough for Dom to grab a camera and snap a picture. "Dom, what..." But Caitlin's voice cut him off, even though she had no idea he was standing right behind her.
"Damn you, Hawke!" The venom in her voice cut straight to Hawke's heart as she hurled the picture against the wall, and watched the glass shatter into a million pieces. As he watched, Hawke couldn't help but wince as the frame exploded and shattered. Hawke couldn't believe what he saw, especially when Caitlin walked over to what was left of the frame and picked it up, and then, ignoring the dangers to her own fingers, picked up a shard of glass from the floor and began slashing at Hawke's face in the photograph. What had he done to hurt her so badly? Then he remembered the argument just before she left that afternoon. "This is about what I said, isn't it?" He queried Dominic, and Dom just nodded affirmatively, and directed Hawke's gaze back to Caitlin.
"You just don't get it, do you? You don't understand how I feel about you, even though I've tried to show you so many different ways. And you just won't see that I can take care of myself perfectly well, thanks so much." Hawke had to admit, he'd seen the scrappy redhead get out of situations that had scared him to the core that she was about to die. The kidnappings by Harlan Jenkins and Ken Sawyer, not to mention her nearly getting blasted out of the sky once by a man she thought to be her boyfriend. Okay, we helped her with that one, but not that much. She evaded more than one of those missiles herself. And of course, Holly Matthews, Dom's crazy niece who had tried to kill Caitlin more than once. Cait's piloting skills saved her ass on that one. If she wasn't as good a pilot as she is, the chopper would have gone down after she knocked Holly out, Hawke said to himself as he listened to Caitlin continue. "But I'm through, Hawke. I'm through waiting around for something that ain't ever gonna happen, so I'm leavin,' Hawke. I'm goin' home, like my mom keeps telling me to do." Hawke suddenly realized that Caitlin had been carrying feelings for him around for a long time. Maybe, longer than I thought, he said to himself, and Hawke silently promised himself that if he got the chance, from this day forward, he would do better. He would try to be what Caitlin wanted him to be, or whatever she would let me be, he whispered in his mind. He would let her inside his heart, even knowing the risks he took in that decision.
"String, life is full of risks," Dom said to his young friend, as if he had read Hawke's mind. "You and Saint John both took risks all your lives, joining the Army and everything. And you took even more risks, getting involved with the FIRM, and Airwolf, and everything else. Maybe you need to rethink some things in your life, pal." Dom said, as he steered String away from the bedroom scene...
...And just like that, he was back in the office again. Good grief. I've learned more about Cait in the last two hours than I have in the last three years, Hawke thought with a frustrated sigh. Aloud, to no one in particular, he said, "And it's working. Whatever you're trying to do, it's working. I see now, the mistakes I've made with Caitlin, and I—I'm sorry. So very sorry," he whispered, as he fought back tears. Just then, he heard the whistling sound again, and saw a figure in a dark, hooded robe, carrying a large scythe. He tried to look through the robe to see a face, but could not. "Let me guess. Future, right?" The apparition simply pointed towards the door again. "Right. Out the door," Hawke replied, and walked out the door of the office for the third time...
...Only this time, he found himself standing in a cemetery. There was someone standing just in front of him, in front of what appeared to be a new headstone. He turned to the spirit figure and whispered, "Caitlin? How? When?" The figure merely pointed towards the stone. Hawke nodded and walked slowly towards the figure in front of the stone, pausing as her voice came into his ears.
"Hey, honey. It's me. I can't believe it's been a year since you left us, and I'm telling you that it hurts just as much now, a year later, as it did the day it happened. If I ever get my hands on that damned fool Hawke, so help me God, I'll kill him!" He didn't recognize the voice, but the face was familiar, even though age lines were more prevalent—I saw that face earlier. Cait's mother, Hawke realized, and he knew whose name was on that stone. But why is she so angry at me? It can't be my fault that Cait's dead, can it?
"Why, Hawke?" He thought Caitlin's mom was speaking to him, but then he realized, She doesn't know I'm standing here. "Why couldn't you see how much my daughter loved you, damn you? Now, she's dead! She was headed to the airport to come home for Christmas, and she was so angry at you, she didn't see the stop sign, roared right through it, and got broadsided! She was dead before the paramedics even got there, Hawke! Do you hear me? Caitlin was dead! And it was because of you!" Caitlin's mom suddenly turned away from the grave, and appeared to String as if she were staring him right in the face, even pointing her finger at him accusingly. No, she can't see me. I hope, Hawke thought anxiously as she went on, "Mark my words, Stringfellow Hawke, wherever you are—whoever you are, I'll find you someday, and when I do, I'll make sure you understand what you meant to my daughter, and what you did to my daughter!" She wiped the tears from her face as she stalked away from the headstone, and Hawke calmly approached it. He noticed snow had obscured the date of death, and he nervously wiped it away, revealing the date of Caitlin's fatal accident. Oh, no, Hawke thought to himself, shocked.The date on the headstone was the same as their last argument, when she had stormed out of the office in such a huff. The same night Dom showed me. She must have left just after Dom and I did. It is my fault she's dead. Just then, the specter laid its hand on Hawke's shoulder and pointed back the way they'd come. "I—I understand, Spirit," Hawke stammered through tears that were falling, unbidden, down his face. "Spirit, I have to know. Are these the shadows of things that will be, or are they the shadows of things that may be only?" The spirit merely pointed again, but when Hawke turned back to look at the figure one last time, he thought he recognized a face hidden underneath the robe.
"Moffet? What the hell...
..." He sat up with a start, and realized he was back in the office again. Why the hell did I see Moffet's face in that spirit's robe? What could that possibly have meant? Looking at the clock, he saw it read 7:00 AM, and the calendar read Dec. 25. But that means that today is Christmas Day. Oh, no. Dom, please don't let it be true, Hawke mentally prayed to Dom's spirit, or whomever else might be listening, as he ran out of the office, jumped on his motorcycle and roared off. I just hope this works, he thought to himself, more frightened than he'd ever been in his life.
"What—who is it? Just a second. I'm coming!" Caitlin O'Shannessy heard the insistent knocking on her door, even though she wasn't expecting any visitors. She had planned to be in Texas for Christmas, with her family, but her mother had called just as Caitlin was walking out the door the previous afternoon. Caitlin's mom had first explained that she had come down with some kind of bug, and had been sick to her stomach most of the week. She'd gone on to explain that she didn't want to be responsible for Caitlin missing any time at work, if she caught whatever was making her mother so sick. Caitlin responded that she understood, and her mother had finally picked up that something was bothering her. She asked her youngest daughter what it was, and Caitlin explained about the argument she and String had that day, at the hangar. Her mother was not at all surprised to hear that Stringfellow Hawke was once again the cause of Caitlin's frustrations, and started on another of her "why don't you forget that danged fool Hawke" rants, and Caitlin had to cut her off numerous times, before finally getting her mother to understand, if only temporarily, that this was her life, and her decision. Her mom had grudgingly agreed, but promised that if she ever met this Hawke character, she'd give him a piece of her mind. Along with a piece of your fist, I'll bet, Caitlin had said to herself when she hung up the phone, recalling the many times Maggie, her mother, had threatened to come out to California, find Stringfellow Hawke, and beat some sense into him about Caitlin.
Hawke stood outside the door of Caitlin's apartment, and sighed with relief as he heard her voice. Thank you, Dom, or God, or whoever, String said to himself with relief. She either decided not to go home, or I got here in time. Suddenly, a voice rang in his ears.
"Mister Hawke. I hate that I've had a hand in helping you like this, especially after what you did. But don't blow this second chance. Or you and I will get to know each other very well, because you'll wind up in hell, with me." Moffet's voice rang in his ears. What the hell does that mean? Hawke asked himself, angrily.
Finally, the door opened, and Caitlin found herself face-to-face with...
"Hawke?" She couldn't believe he was standing there, looking as frightened as she had ever seen him. "Hawke? What on Earth are you doing here?" She wanted to say more, but was unable to as Hawke wrapped his free arm around her waist and kissed her, the most passionate and loving kiss she'd ever felt. Even more than that day at the studio. I swear, my toes are curling again. Good grief, what on Earth's gotten into him? Questions flew in her mind, but all she could think to do was to kiss him back, wrapping her arms around Hawke's neck and returning his passion with her own. Finally, Hawke broke the kiss and pulled back, which allowed them both to catch their breath. Once she felt like she could ask a complete and coherent question, Caitlin whispered, "Hawke, are you all right? What's going on?"
"Caitlin, I'm sorry. For everything. Yesterday, what I said, and the way I acted. The way I've been treating you, and most of all for not responding to how I think you feel about me, and how I know I feel about you." He brought his other arm out from behind his back, revealing a bouquet of two dozen roses. Thank goodness I found a flower shop open this morning, he said to himself. Caitlin took the flowers, and with tears in her eyes, she said, "Hawke, please. Come in." He walked into the apartment, letting the door close behind him as Caitlin found a vase and put her flowers in water, then walked back to Hawke and took both of his hands in hers.
"Hawke, what are you trying to tell me?" She thought, or rather, she hoped she knew what he was trying to say, but she needed to hear the words.
"Just that, just that I love you, Caitlin. I've loved you—and, I've been in love with you—since the day I met you," Hawke answered honestly. "I've just been too stubborn, and stupid, to realize it, until now."
"What happened?"
"That's a long story, Cait; and I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you," Hawke grinned, as he disengaged one of his hands and slid that arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. "Let's just say that I know, now, that things can't go on the way they are. I love you, Caitlin O'Shannessy, so very much. And, by the way, Merry Christmas, Cait."
Through tears of joy that had suddenly welled up in her eyes, Caitlin gazed up at him and whispered, "Stringfellow Hawke, I love you too. And I'm in love with you. I think I have been ever since I met you. I've waited so long to hear you say that. That's—that's the best Christmas present you could possibly have given me." She didn't want to speak anymore, so she drew her face to his, and when their lips met again, Hawke knew, at last, what Gabrielle had meant the night before. As he tightened his arms around Caitlin, his mind whispered, Now I know where I belong. And, who I belong with.
Finally, Hawke had to ask one question that had burned in his mind ever since he heard her voice. "Cait, why are you still here? I figured you'd be back in Texas with your family."
"Oh. Well, Mom called yesterday afternoon, just as I was walking out the door to head to the airport," Caitlin answered, and Hawke breathed a quiet sigh of relief, knowing that the phone call might have saved Caitlin's life. "And I don't mind tellin' you, String, that I was not very happy when Mom called, after what happened yesterday afternoon, and she knew it. Kept asking me what you'd done to upset me this time, and she tried again to get me to come home permanently. Anyway, when I asked why she was calling, she said that she wasn't feeling well; probably a flu bug, or something, and told me not to bother coming down," Caitlin added. "And, now I'm glad I didn't leave, 'cause if I had, I never would have heard you tell me that you loved me, or finally be able to tell you how I feel about you. Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. Merry Christmas, Stringfellow Hawke."
You don't know the half of it, Hawke said to himself with a smile. I never thought I'd actually be happy to hear somebody caught the flu. I wonder, when I heard Moffet's voice just before Cait answered the door, did he somehow make Cait's mom sick? Aloud, he said, "I'm glad you didn't leave, too. But at least now, you'll have something good to tell your mom the next time you talk." Hawke was relieved to see Caitlin smile and nod at him, still wiping her joyful tears out of her eyes.
As he took Caitlin into his arms again, Hawke silently resolved that by this time next year, Caitlin's mother would not be mourning her daughter's death, as had happened in his...vision? Dream? Whatever it was, things wouldn't unfold like that now. By this time next year, we'll be celebrating our first Christmas together—as husband and wife, Hawke promised himself, and he knew that he'd make the same promise to Caitlin later. And for the first time since his parents were killed, Stringfellow Hawke felt the Christmas spirit rushing into his heart, and he knew that he was finally, indisputably, where he belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman he loved.