Disclaimer - All original Airwolf characters are the property of Donald Belisarius and Universal, Nicky and Amelia belong to Rachel 500, whereas Roper is mine. I make no profit on their behalf, just enjoy visiting their universe from time to time. Okay, well, maybe I live in it, but don't tell anybody.
Fledglings -
- 10 p.m. Saturday, June 14th -
The rain came down in sheets. Had been coming down in sheets for hours. Sitting there, drenched to the bone, rivulets of water running off his short, brown hair making it appear black, Stringfellow Hawke was more than ready for it to end.
The thought of taking the kids and going camping had seemed such a brilliant one two days ago. He and Cait would take them and head up to Bear Lake and do a little fishing and camp out near there with them.
Then they'd gotten a call about a charter flight up to Red Bluff for a business party. A bunch of young, up and coming female execs, they'd really wanted Caitlin more than they'd wanted him, and Hawke hadn't been exactly thrilled at the idea of two to three hours of chattering females in his ears. The job had been too good a one to turn down though.
Caitlin being the trooper she was, had volunteered to fly it. Though he'd guess if he were honest, the thought of hanging around a beautiful pool at someone body else's expense hadn't been bad either. He hadn't begrudged her the trip, figuring one of them better take the job, goodness knew there'd been few enough as of late, and at least she'd enjoy it. He figured he'd get to go fishing with the kids and that'd been enough. Of course, it hadn't turned out quite like that.
- 10 a.m. Friday, June 13th -
"You sure you'll be okay?" Cait asked, kissing her taciturn husband goodbye as she loaded the last of the supplies in the white jet ranger he was taking.
Hawke grinned at her. "You expecting a fish to eat me, Cait?" he teased. "It's just a fishing trip. The kids and I'll be fine."
Shoving aside the feeling of unease that'd been plaguing her since she got up that morning, she smiled back. "Well, it does involve you and a fishing trip. Mutant fish are a distinct possibility."
Hawke laughed. "Well then, make sure you pack your net in case I need you to fish me out."
"Very funny, String," she retorted, giving him a shove towards the helicopter. "Go on with you."
Reaching over, he gave her a quick kiss goodbye even as he climbed up into the jet ranger's cockpit. "Nicky! 'Melia!" he yelled. "Let's go!"
Lugging a backpack almost as big as he was, Nicky trotted across the tarmac towards the jet ranger. "Coming dad!" he yelled, his blue eyes glinting with excitement. Hot on his heels, his eight year old sister Amelia followed.
Grinning, Caitlin watched them hustle aboard, giving Amelia a boost up.
Ducking, she stepped back, shielding her eyes against the chopper's rotor wash, watching them go.
Expertly, Hawke levered the helicopter up, getting her airborne. It hung there suspended like a dragonfly in mid-air. Amelia pressed her nose up against the glass in the back and waved bye, enthusiastically, even as Hawke tossed up a hand in farewell to his pretty, red-headed wife.
Turning the helicopter on its own axis, Hawke headed north towards Bear Lake.
- 12 p.m. Friday, June 13th -
Trudging down the steep path towards the lake, Hawke paused to catch his breath and turned back to eye the kids trailing behind him. The sun warm on his back, he could feel his hair curling damply along his collar even as the wind picked up. Concerned blue eyes scanned the scudding clouds overhead, noting what looked like an approaching storm. "Come on guys," he encouraged, still watching the sky. "Hustle up. We need to get the tents pitched before that storm moves in." Dropping his gaze, he glanced along the path behind him to where the kids were.
Even as Hawke turned to look, Amelia stood at the edge of the step path, peering over the embankment.
Fear lighting his blue eyes, he yelled, " 'Melia! Get away from…"
The crumbling ground gave way beneath her feet. Stumbling, she staggered back, thrown off balance by the heavy backpack.
String lunged for her.
She wavered, wind milling her arms, catching herself. Triumphantly, she stepped back, flashing him a dimpled grin.
Hawke's hand closed around her arm, none to gently, fear making him rough, and adrenaline pumping through his veins. "What do you think you're…"
The weakened ground gave way beneath their combined weight, knocking String off his feet and taking the child with him. He slammed into the dry, rocky earth, the force of the blow knocking the wind from his lungs. Shearing, the edge gave way plummeting down the side of the mountain.
"Dad!" Nicky screamed, blue eyes wide with shock and fear. "Dad!"
Dropping the pack, he ran forward feeling the ground tremble beneath his feet. Throwing himself to the dirt, he frantically peered over the edge of the embankment, only craw fishing back when he felt a handful of dirt give way beneath his fingers. Aside from a rocky gash where the ledge had given way, there was no sign of them.
Terrified, Nicky scooted back, stopping only when his back hit the rock wall of the mountain behind him. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he sobbed great shuddering breaths of air. He was alone. Completely and utterly alone.
Dazedly, String raised a bruised hand to his forehead, his fingers coming away sticky. Drawing his finger tips away, he rubbed them together in puzzlement, trying to piece together his thoughts amongst the incessant pounding in his head.
Starting to push up into a sitting position, he placed his hand against the rough, rocky, orangish-brown shale-like ground. The moment his hand touched it, the memory of the rock slide came crashing back.
"Amelia!" he gasped, shoving up, his head reeling. Frantically, he looked around for the child, his vision blurring and stomach roiling. "Not now," he muttered, impatiently trying to tamp down the feeling. "Amelia!" he yelled again. "Where are you?"
There was no answer, save the distant chirping of some birds overhead. Rolling to his hands and knees, Hawke tried to push up to his feet, his left leg giving way beneath him almost instantly in stabbing, pulsing pain.
Groaning, he dropped to his forearms in the dirt, sweat creasing his forehead. How was he supposed to find her, when he couldn't even help himself?
Fighting back the nausea, he flopped over onto his back, breathing heavily. Overhead the sky was graying and the wind had picked up, flipping the leaves on the nearby trees upside down. His vision was no longer blurry, but there was no denying the storm was on its way.
Poolside at an elegant resort in San Joaquin, Caitlin O'Shaunessy Hawke sipped a rum punch and tried to concentrate on her book. The charter flight up with the lady execs from Murani Apparel had been uneventful, but pleasant. Excited about their expansion plans, and the chance to showcase their new designs as well as a weekend in San Joaquin, Sylvia and Vicktoria Murani had rambled on about the latest accessories and hemlines and shoes for two hours, including Cait in the conversation, only to then start on about Vicktoria's fiancé who was to meet them in a couple days and the upcoming wedding next month. Caitlin had had fun listening, but poor Hawke had definitely made the right choice in passing on the charter flight, she thought. She could just imagine him after a couple hours of their chatter. He'd a been ready to pitch the jet ranger into the nearest mountain.
She laughed softly to herself sipping her drink as she stretched languorously and wiggled newly pedicured bright pink toes. Still, she'd had a good time just listening. It was nice to see how the other half lived, and Santini Air with its overabundance of testosterone influenced pilots didn't afford much chance of it. Poor Jo would soon find that out, she thought ruefully.
Thinking of Hawke and the kids up at Bear Lake fishing and camping though, she felt a twinge of guilt. It had been supposed to be a family vacation and String had been so looking forward to down time with all of them. On his own with Nicky and Amelia he'd have his hands full.
Sipping the last of her drink, Cait sighed. She missed her unruly tribe, but undoubtedly they'd have a good time without her. She might as well make the most of her "luxury resort" weekend. It wasn't like she'd be getting another one any time soon.
"Caitlin!" an excited voice called. "Yoo-hoo! Cait!"
Turning swiftly, the red-head looked over her shoulder to find Sylvia Murani at the edge of the pool, flower-printed silk sarong tied low around her hips.
"Hey, Sylvia," she greeted her warmly. "What's up?"
"The buyers are here and they want a preview of the new line of dresses," the svelte brunette gushed frantically. "Our model's called in sick. Is there anyway I could talk you into subbing?"
Cait stared at her, trying not to look like a fish that'd flopped out of water onto dry land. "Subbing?" she asked, a fine frown creasing her forehead.
"Please? Oh, Cait, please!" Vicktoria implored, joining her sister. "You're just the right size and it'll be fun. I promise! Come on," the blonde dimpled her smile charmingly at her new friend.
Model the exclusive designs the Murani sisters were hoping to have picked up by the designer houses in New York? Her, everyday, ordinary Caitlin Hawke? Surely, she must've misheard, she thought.
"Come on, Caitlin," Sylvia wheedled. "I'll give you first pick on your favorite to keep when we're done."
Cait stopped gaping like a fish and grabbed her cover-up thinking of the beautiful evening dress she'd saved weeks for, for the rehearsal dinner a couple weeks back, hoping to impress Hawke and that had met such an unceremonious and quick end after one night out. How could she pass the opportunity up?
"Coming!" she exclaimed, as she hopped up, leaving her book poolside and forgotten on the lounger.
- 12:15 p.m. Friday, June 13th -
Sucking in a last heaving breath, Amelia Hawke clambered to her feet. The "ride" coming down the mountainside had been scary enough by itself, but the fact her daddy didn't wake up afterwards was a lot bigger deal to her.
Wiping filthy hands on her torn jeans, she tried one last time. "Daddy?" she whispered, poking him in the side. "Daddy, wake up."
There was no response from String, just a fresh streak of blood seeping down his hairline and across his cheek. Frowning petulantly, and biting her lip, Amelia tried not to think of the kid at school who'd fallen and bloodied his head and the ambulance had had to come and get. Mark had gotten stitches, but he'd been back a few days later regaling them all with tales of his ride in the ambulance.
Poking a cautious finger into String's hair, Amelia looked at her dad's gash and grimaced. She wasn't any good at sewing, and there weren't any ambulances out here.
"Daddy?" she whispered, shaking him. "Wake up. Please," there was a twinge of desperation to the words.
This time, she got a groan out of Hawke, but still the blue eyes remained stubbornly closed. She sighed. Nicky would know what to do. Unfortunately, he wasn't around to ask.
Shading her eyes against the shifting sun, Amelia eyed the rough hillside. Like a jagged scar, the path of their descent stuck out rocky and jumbled. There was no way she could climb back up that. The rest was pretty much sheer rock, no finger or footholds to be found.
And then she saw it. Just at the edge of the nearby woods, the rock face evened out, and a jumble of small bushes grew precariously up the side. A self-satisfied grin plastered itself across her face, as deep blue eyes lit up with inspiration. "I bet I could climb that though," she muttered, heading off for the makeshift climbing wall, solid determination in her short stride.
12:20 p.m. Friday, June 13th -
Sniffling softly to himself, Nicky rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. There was silence around him except for the chirping of some birds nearby and the wind picking up around him. He shivered, the fine sheen of sweat from the sun and the hike rapidly drying in the wind.
Think, Nicky, think! He commanded himself desperately. They couldn't have disappeared off the face of the earth. It was simply a matter of finding them.
Okay, what to do? Everything inside him said go and look over the edge, but he didn't think that was too good an idea. Look where that had gotten his dad after all. Despair welled up in him again, threatening tears. He faced it down angrily. He wasn't a baby, he couldn't be blubbering all over the place - somehow he had to do something.
Well, he'd looked. Not that it'd done him much good before, nearly getting pitched down the mountain with them. He needed help, he thought…but what if his dad and 'Melia were hurt, or…angrily he sucked up a sob. No, not going there, he told himself.
Fine, he'd help them. He knew first aid - at least some. He'd watched his mom bandage up his dad plenty of times, and he'd learned at camp. He could do this. He had to do this.
A fine frown marring his young features, he determinedly shifted the heavy pack on his shoulders and turned back in the direction of the jet ranger. It had a first aid kit, he'd just have to go get it. And then, he thought, swallowing hard, figure out how to get down the mountain and find his dad and sister.