A/N: A special thank you to Mychand for encouraging me to just try! You inspire me, my friend!

Summary: A one-shot. Hawke's actions while under Horn's influence continue to ripple across the lives of the Airwolf crew.

HORN'S RICOCHET

The afternoon sun glowed within the patients' room; the tension warring with restlessness of the two men. Stringfellow Hawke and Dominic Santini were men of action, not ones to lay, rest and recover in their beds, as the doctors had recommended.

Michael Coldsmith Briggs III, the director of the division of the FIRM that oversaw their use of Airwolf, had required them to have a full medical exam to ensure there were no delayed reactions to the drugs that John Bradford Horn had inflicted upon them during their forced incarceration.

While they awaited their medical clearance, Caitlin O'Shannessy, their third crewmen of Airwolf, reluctantly left the men to return the advanced helicopter to its hidden lair. Her increasing absence was noticed by an edgy Hawke as he stewed within the walls of the medical facility, which was their new place of incarceration. As the time grew, so did his anxiety that something was wrong with the missing pilot.

When Michael arrived to check on the men, Hawke's worry tinted his question. "Michael, how long has it been since Caitlin left with Airwolf?"

"I'm delighted to see you're back to your grumpy self," Michael replied with a smirk.

"Don't play with me, Michael. How long?" Hawke demanded, his patience waning.

Michael leaned defiantly on his cane and replied "I do have better things to do than to babysit your crew, Hawke. I've been a bit busy cleaning up the mess in Texas."

Dom, now realizing it had been a while since they had seen the fiery, red-headed pilot, glanced at the younger man with concern and chimed in the conversation with a gentler tone. "Come on Michael. It is simple question. When did she leave, huh?", he asked hopefully, his eyebrows raised.

With a pause to gather his thoughts, Michael answered. "She left the helipad around noon. It's been about four hours." He hesitated again while he stroked his mustache. "I'll expedite your clearance. Let me know when you find her," the white-clad man responded as he started to leave the room.

He stopped at Hawke's request. "We need a ride to the hanger also."

As the sun began to set, Dom and Hawke sat side-by-side inside the red, white and blue Jet Ranger. Yet, although physically close, with their silence, it was as if they were sitting miles apart. Both men were focused on the fate of their friend and coworker as Hawke flew toward their destination.

Hawke's previous thoughts had gnarled within his mind the last few hours. His ability to shoot Dom, his dear friend and mentor, while under Horn's drug-induced influence, was still beyond his understanding. Yet his worry for Caitlin began to encroach into these guilt-ridden thoughts.

In years past, it was decided that when they drove to the lair, they would take one of several routes out of Los Angeles to shake any tails they might have acquired. However, dirt roads within the valley of the Gods were not as plentiful and therefore left only two choices, roads from the north and from the south.

After a brief discussion, Hawke and Dom decided to try the quickest course to the FIRM facility in LA, assuming Cait would wish to hurry back.

However, as they flew above one of the predeterminded routes, there were no signs of the Santini Jeep that Dom and Cait had driven out to the lair just a day prior. As their anxiety grew, Dom broke the silence that had deepened in the interior of the craft.

"String, we will find her. Horn will not get away with this again," he said determinedly with a nod of his head.

String glanced quickly toward the older man and wondered briefly if Dom was trying to convince Hawke or himself. He quickly refocused on the road below him.

The road began littered with urban clutter which surrounds the larger cities, but transformed to the red dirt and ghostly, rock formations of the Valley of the Gods. The sun had set only minutes before and cast the area in a silvery, twilight hue, only making the jeep more difficult to find. As a second plan began to cement in his mind that involved using The Lady to search for Cailtin, a small fleck of white formed in the dimming light. A figment of hope blossomed in Hawke's heart and mind as they grew closer.

As they flew over the jeep, two things glared at them from the ground. First, the jeep stood upright, intact, with the driver's door wide open. The second was a still form laying face down not far from the road. Hawke's worry over Caitlin twisted his heart and turned his stomach inside out.

Dom's worried "momma mia!" voiced his shock as well. A quick circle over the scene and Hawke quickly landed the Ranger as close as he could to the Jeep.

"Call Michael and let him know we found her and have the FIRM's medical staff ready to receive her when we arrive," Hawke quickly said. "And Dom, keep a watch out for anything suspicious." Dom nodded his understanding and radioed Michael.

Hawke climbed out of the helicopter just as the struts hit the ground and ran toward a very still Caitlin. He hesitated a moment to check the surrounding mountains and then thoroughly looked her over. He slowly knelt beside her with a racing heart in anticipation of what he might find when he checked her pulse.

Dom joined him at her side and looked at Hawke questioningly. Hawke reached over to her neck, brushed her hair back and felt for her carotid artery. When he found her strong pulse, he closed his eyes, breathed in deeply and sighed in relief. He looked up at Dom and nodded. He gently turned her over and Dom gasped in shock when he took in her bruised, swollen face. Hawke's jaw tightened as he clinched his teeth. Her battered face melted his icy composure and his shaking hand reached out to caress the skin at her temple. "Oh Caitlin," he breathed.

He carefully picked her upper body from the dirt road and the movement brought forth a groan from the ginger-haired woman. Hawke tenderly stroked her cheek and called her name, "Caitlin? Cait." Her eyelids flickered, attempting to open. Her hand came to her head as another groan escaped from her lips. "Hawke?," she muttered as she opened her eyes. "Why are there three of you? My head is killing me!," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut.

Hawke quietly chuckled and shook his head as he looked up at Dom. Seeing her concussed, but conscious, allowed the vice on his chest to loosen. He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her close. Pushing her back slightly, he asked "Cait, can you stand? We need to have you checked out by Michael's white coats." He placed his hand around her waist and helped her to her unsteady feet.

Dom came along the opposite side and, putting his arm around her shoulder, helped balance Caitlin on her wobbly legs. "It good to see you, Honey," he said with a wide grin.

"I wish I could say the same, Dom. I'm seeing everything in multiples and it is not a pretty sight!," Caitlin murmured.

"Seeing multiply Doms would be a scary," Hawke said with a barking laugh.

Dom climbed into the pilot seat, while Hawke helped Caitlin into the backseat of the Jet Ranger. Her head was hammering with each heartbeat and, while Hawke's presence was soothing, she was feeling herself slipping away again.

"Caitlin, I need you to stay with us," Hawke implored her. A warm squeeze to her hand brought her back from a peaceful darkness. "Tell us what happened after you left the FIRM clinic, "he requested.

She knew he was trying to focus her energy and keep her alert and awake. She would try, for him.

Caitlin paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She tried to concentrate on the memories as they shuffled through her muffled mind. She battled for control of her headache and extreme fatigue to share her actions of the recent past.

"I left the helipad moments after the medical team had whisked you away," she started with a deep breath. "The flight back to the lair was uneventful and I put The Lady to bed without any problems. It was only after I had changed out of my flight suit that my headache started. I thought that the fresh air and the beauty of the valley would calm my pounding head and settle my edginess. But then, not only did the hammering in my head worsen, but my stomach began to rebel as well. The last memory I had was pulling the jeep to a stop and thinking I was going to be sick."

She closed her eyes and rested her head on Hawke's nearby shoulder. She needed the comfort his nearness would provide and the protection that he always bestowed upon her.

Hawke felt her relax against him and put his arm around her shoulder. Her presence beside him soothed his mind and soul. And, as much as he would love to have her rest, he knew she needed to stay awake. His restless mind was putting the pieces of the timeline puzzle together and realized just how long she had been lying in desert alone. Even with flight checks, time to fly to the lair and secure it, she must have been unconscious for a couple of hours. That thought erased any peace that had settled within his heart and his thoughts raced back to the woman beside him

With his arm around her shoulder, Hawke pulled Caitlin closer to his side. His stomach twisted again when she flinched at the gesture. He tensed at her painful reaction and asked with a steely voice, "Caitlin, did one of Horn's men hit you?"

She tensed at his question and her physical response was enough of an answer for him. He began to imagine what he would do to the man that had hurt her. As Dom turned back toward them, they exchanged a look of pure anger.

"Yes, it was one of Horn's men," Caitlin agreed. Her already tired mind reeled with the implication of this conversation. It was the last thing she wanted to deal with right now and hoped that Hawke would simply drop the subject. His guilt of Dom's injury still clouded this mind and, if you looked closely, his guarded eyes. She would not add to his weight.

She hoped Hawke had lost his memories their confrontation in his room at Horn's compound. Wrapped in a drugged mind, he had not recognized, attacked her and thrown her across the room into a wall. Her vision had blurred for a short moment before she felt herself being turned from the wall for another hit. She had surprised him with an injection which had cleared his mind and bought the stoic pilot back to himself.

For a few heart-breaking minutes, she believed she had killed him with the injection and believed she had lost this man whom she had grown to love. It was only when she felt him move that she realized with great relief that he was still alive. Just as Hawke's mind was fuzzy with memories of the past weekend, her mind began to feel fuzzy as well.

Hawke had observed everything about his friend that sat beside him and her quietness unnerved him. She was usually bright and lively, but this still woman had him worried. "Cait, you with us still?," he asked. A muttered reply was the only answer he received. A worried Dom turned back to glance at them both and said "ETA in 5 minutes String." "Make it 3, Dom," he replied.

The restlessness of the two men had compounded in the hours spent pacing in the small waiting room. When they had arrived at the clinic, Caitlin was unresponsive and a waiting staff had swiftly sailed her away to conduct tests. Only hours before, Hawke's only desire was to have all his tests completed and was ready to bolt. Now, however, he wished that he was the one stuck with the battery of exams rather than the even more painful thought of Caitlin enduring them.

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration as another minute passed with no news of their friend. Michael's entry stopped both men in their tracks and they whipped around to face him. Dom worriedly asked "How's our girl, Michael?"

Michael leaned physically over his cane. He wore the weariness of the taxing day and his old injury only magnified his tiredness.

"She's going to be okay," he replied.

He took in the almost instantaneous relief on their faces and in their posture. Dom's worried frown and Hawke's tight jaws had relaxed into bright smiles and the two pilots shared a look.

"Her minor concussion was coupled with dehydration and exhaustion. The doctor says she will be fine with some rest and fluids," Michael added.

"When can we see her?," Hawke queried.

Michael knew he needed to verify the information for himself. "Soon. They are relocating her to a private room," he replied with a smile.

A weary Hawke stood in Caitlin's room as she rested. Dom had gone home earlier, but had promised to be back in the morning. The steady rhythm of Caitlin's heartbeat helped him relax, but his mind raced over his scattered memories of the past few days.

The most prominent ones circled back to two people, Dom's shooting and finding Caitlin unconscious near the lair. Fragments of other memories taunted his mind as well; dancing at a club with a beautiful and willing Angelica Horn, a room with blinking lights that left him drained and the awful Horn himself.

It frustrated him to not have complete recall. He wanted to physically force them to the front of his mind, but couldn't.

He ran a hand through his cropped hair and walked over to Caitlin's bedside. Even with the pestering, but well-intentioned nursing staff, she was resting well and color was returning to her once pale face. He gently brushed some hair from her face without waking her and sat down in the chair he had pulled close to her bed earlier in the evening.

As he watched over the woman before him, he realized she had changed him before he could acknowledge what had happened. Her bright smile and even brighter personality had seeped into his carefully built walls and slipped into his heart.

He cared for her deeply, more than he would like to admit and, with his past history, the idea frightened him a bit. He wished he could protect her more, guard her from the dangers of the world, dangers he had seen with his own eyes. Yet, he also knew that Caitlin wasn't an innocent kid either.

When he first encountered her that was exactly how he had summed her up, except with boatload of courage. Now he realized, she was so much more than that brief summary. She was feisty, stubborn, courageous, tenderhearted, loyal, devoted and a great pilot. His heart longed for something more than their close friendship, but his feelings battled with his mind and his history of heart wrenching losses.

The effects of the last few days became evident as his body's need for sleep overtook his restless mind. Horn's mind-altering processes relied on sleep deprivation and suddenly, his head and eyelids felt heavy. He allowed himself to drift to sleep.

Caitlin enjoyed her time of rest and even more since her nurse had finally finished her never-ending checks. When the medical staff had woken her to check vitals or check her mental awareness, she blissfully returned to sleep. Every time she rose to consciousness, an ever-watchful Hawke had been in the room and she felt warm and protected.

But suddenly, her soft, dreamy world was shattered by a scream. Hawke's worried shout woke her. "Caitlin!" One look at his face, in his steely, blues eyes told her exactly what had happened.

He remembered exactly what she feared. Overlooking any pain or thought to her own body, she quickly sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed to sit near his chair. She gently touched his knee and then reached out to his arm as she called out to him. "Hawke?," she tenderly cajoled him.

His unfocused eyes suddenly focused on her face, sought out her green eyes and it was as if he saw her for the first time. He suddenly moved from the chair to sit on the bed next to her. Unexpectedly, he reached his hand to behind her neck and cradled her head on his shoulder. His other hand reached around her and hugged her tightly.

While she reveled in his embrace, she knew he was hurting deeply. Hawke whispered, "Cait." She simply rubbed gentle circles on his back and muttered her reassurances. Just as she needed his touch when he had come to consciousness at Horn's complex, he now needed to know she was physically okay. He needed her touch to reassure himself.

When he drew back and their eyes met, the intensity she found there floored her. Hawke suddenly stood and ran to the in-suite bathroom. Her initial confusion was erased when she heard his stomach rebelling from within.

She slowly stood and carefully walked to the bathroom. He had emptied his stomach when she reached him and she quickly wet some paper towels and wiped his brow. He allowed her this small comfort, but quickly rose to stand. With the look of a trapped animal, he surveyed the exit in his haste to escape.

"Cait, I have to get out of here. I'm sorry. I gotta go," he said with regret as he moved past her to leave.

She reached out for him, but her body quickly reminded her of her momentarily forgotten injuries. "Hawke, please don't go. I can't...".

Her strength suddenly sapped and the room began to spin before her eyes. She felt herself falling, but was caught by two strong hands and the overwhelming scent of Hawke filled her senses. Before she could pass out completely, he lifted her back to bed. When he had her settled, she pleaded again, anxious to talk to him and to have him stay.

"Please don't go," she beseeched him, both with her voice and her eyes. With defiance she really didn't feel, she said with a heavy, Texas drawl, "So help me Stringfellow Hawke, if you leave, I will get up again and follow you. I will not let you leave without talking to me!"

"Damn it, woman. You are stubborn!" His harsh words were softened by his tender tone and slight smirk. He would do nearly anything for the beautiful woman before him. She was beautiful, inside and out. Even with everything that had happened to her in the last few hours, she was still worried about him, caring for him.

"Caitlin, you need to rest. Stay in bed," he said soothingly.

"No, Hawke! The first time I shut my eyes, you'll be back at the cabin. No way! We will talk now," she told him, her Irish temper boiling to the surface. She crossed her arms and waited.

He watched her closely for a moment. Her efforts to corral him and his storming emotions had physically cost her. Cait's face had paled slightly and there was a glisten on her forehead. His heart melted to have caused her additional injury.

Hawke leaned over her bed and brushed his lips across her forehead. "Cait, sleep. I'll be here when you wake." He saw surprise, suspicion for a brief second, and then relief wash over her face. She began to relax and slip into sleep again as he watched her breathing deep and regular breaths.

As he sat in the bedside chair, his mind returned to the Horn compound. He wondered how he could have hurt the two people in this world that he cared for the most. His mind thought back to Caitlin and their ride to the clinic. She had told him that one of Horn's men had left her bruised and beaten, but now he realized that she had lied to him.

He had slammed her into wall and had intended to hurt her further when she had injected him. He knew why she had been untruthful. She did what she had to do to protect him. It was the same reason she came to Horn's compound and had taken the beating to help him.

Thankfully, Caitlin had saved them all and had managed to manhandle a still-drugged Dom out to their rendezvous spot. Where he had failed them both miserably, she had shined on this mission and he was proud of her.

Yet, her lie had him worried about their friendship. He always valued honesty and she always provided it to him. He was still puzzling her reasons when the sun began to color the morning sky.

Caitlin woke again to discover the evening closing as the morning sun shone through her window. The other bright spot in her room was the man standing near the window. Stringfellow Hawke had said he would stay and his word was gold.

He looked tired and worn from the past few days and she felt a bit guilty for keeping him here. He needed rest, but she also knew he would escape to the cabin to sort through his feelings and not be seen for weeks. She would not let that happen this time.

With a smile, she got his attention from his study of the outdoor landscape. "Good morning Hawke." She was rewarded when he turned around to face her and returned her smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. His mind was racing with thoughts again and she needed to talk to him and dampen his rising tide of guilt.

With an outstretched hand and a welcoming Texas smile, she added "Come and sit beside me for a while."

He hesitated for a moment before joining her on the side of the bed. His jaw was working and she knew he was upset. He sat right beside her, but he would not look at her and she could see his walls were up and heavily fortified.

"Hawke, you are not to blame for any of this. The one you should be blaming is Horn. He is the one who drugged you, kept you from sleeping, messed with your mind and purposely gave you dangerous tasks to do. Turn your anger, your frustration, your bitterness and your rage to finding and ending him. Do you hear me?"

He glanced her way, but still would not meet her eyes. A thought occurred to her and she took a deep breath to try again.

"You're upset with me." Caitlin presented her thought as a statement rather than a question. He stood and paced away from her. She watched his caged movements as he walked around the room. He stopped abruptly and turned to look at her.

"Why did you lie to me?" His tone was soft, but with a bit of an accusatory tone.

She closed her eyes to fight the tears that formed there. She opened them again with a renewed desire to set them again on a steady ground of friendship.

"I wasn't lying to you Hawke. It was one of Horn's men," she said gently.

He rushed toward her and shouted, "Caitlin, I remember! I was the one who slammed you into that wall. I saw you slide down it and caught you, intending to hit you again. I know what happened in that room. It was me," he said as he pointed to himself. She could see he was ready to bolt again, wrapped in his grief over his actions.

"Hawke, while you were under Horn's influence, you were not the Hawke I know. When you met with Dom after we arrived in Airwolf, the man that approached Dom was different. He was cocky, almost brazen, relaxed and jovial. You, Hawke, in that same situation would have been on guard, quiet, watchful, aware of everything around you. Even in your room in the compound, you acted first without thinking. That was not you," she said pointing at him.

He stopped his pacing, but still refused to look at her. She knew he was working through her words and his feelings of guilt. She rose to her feet and walked over to him.

He heard her get out of her bed and walk over to him. She gently put her hand on his shoulder and spoke softly again. "String, please," she said pleadingly. "I need you to look at me."

He again felt he couldn't deny her request and turned to look at the freckled-face woman who stood before him. She took his hand in hers and she studied their joined hands for a moment and then looked back to his blue eyes.

"String, you need to understand that it was one of Horn's men that injured Dom and I back in Texas. That man looked like you, but that is all that I recognized about him. He was nothing like the honorable man that stands before me. He was nothing like the friend I have grown to know over the last year. You are my friend, my rock. You are the man whom I put my total trust and faith. You did not, and would never, purposely hurt me, Stringfellow Hawke."

Tears rolled from her eyes as she tried to convince his heart and mind that he was blameless. His tears flowed as well. He wondered how he could ever deserve her friendship and the love of her beautiful heart.

He released her hand, and with both his hands, reached up to cup her face. With his thumbs, he brushed away her tears. "Thank you Cait," he said with a voice rough with emotion and softly kissed her cheek.

Color filled her face and she ducked her head. Her red hair hung over her face, hiding it momentarily. He bent slightly at his knees and tilted her chin up to face him again.

With her eyes still brimming with tears, but with a slight smirk on her face, she said, "You can properly thank me by flying us back to Texas for some real food! I am starving and some breakfast tacos sound perfect!" A bright smile lit her face and he matched it with one of his own.

"I'll go check on your discharge," he said with a chuckle. It was one more item on his list that he would not deny her.

The End