When Love is Lost

Hawke is devastated when he learns the rescue attempt failed and Caitlin was on a plane he shot down minutes before.

Tragedy

Both Dom and Hawke took Cait's death hard, but it was Hawke that Archangel was really worried about. Continuously haunted by her loss, Hawke spent his days pining away, not eating much, not really caring about anything, wasting away with a distant, loss expression that couldn't come close to showing how torn up inside he really was. Especially, especially since he was the one who inadvertently caused her death. He couldn't forget her trusting nature, her smile that would brighten the room when she walked in. But Hawke unknowingly obliterated her existence.

He knew she would forgive him for shooting her plane down – how could he have known she escaped and climbed aboard? But, knowing full well that she would forgive him, try as he might, he couldn't forgive himself. He relived every moment from the time he spotted the plane and lined up for a shot, until he pulled the trigger on the stick that launched the missile that exploded the plane – her plane – into a fireball raining millions of shards twinkling down to the ground. Victorious, he turned his chopper around, only to see the remaining plane making a hasty retreat. He couldn't shake the memory when he burst in the door of the camp to save his best friend, and was told by the other prisoners that the guards dragged her to the plane with them, and took off, fleeing the camp for safety. With a sickening feeling, he realized they were telling him that she was on the larger plane he shot down, not the smaller one that got away. That didn't stop him from jumping in his souped-up chopper – more fighter-jet than chopper, really – and chasing down the smaller plane . . . . Even at turbo speed, he feared he couldn't catch up. Luckily, he did, and, over an open communication channel, reminded the pilot what he did to the first, more powerful and faster plane, convincing the pilot to land in a crop field. He sunk to his knees when he opened the door and she wasn't there. Cait, his Cait, was gone forever. Dom watched String as the plane's pilot and the passenger escaped, running for the tree cover that rimmed the farm field. Dom saw him scream, "No, not Cait, not my poor Cait. I killed Cait!" then cry, for a long time. He didn't interrupt him, he just stood watching String, himself silently weeping for her, for Dom had come to love her as family. He didn't say anything, only watched him, making sure he wouldn't do something drastically fatal. He had a feeling that String wasn't going to get over this one easily. Oh, yes, String suffered loss after loss his entire life, but this one was different. Cait was different. Though String lost loves before, and always bounced back eventually, given enough time and enough diversion, Dom knew that the man he thought of his son was done – he wouldn't recover from this one – certainly if he blamed himself for her death. What use was it to tell String that there was no way to know she was on that plane? Dom was afraid String would try to join her in the next world, so right there and then, Dom decided he would not leave his friend alone. Well after dark, String's crying slowed to weeping; his shaking slowed to trembling, then he finally quieted, still staring into the darkened cabin of the plane, as if willing Cait to somehow appear before him, and tell him she found a small hidey-hole to cram into. Problem was, the plane was so small, there were no secret compartments. Finally, Dom placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, who gave no response. Dom pulled him up, and guided him back to the waiting chopper, seating String in the co-pilot's side. Expecting complaint, Dom couldn't believe that String was willing to take second chair, without a word of protest. Silently, they headed back, flying stealthily low. String flipped on various scanners, and briefly took the controls long enough to climb altitude and circle over the scene of the accident, no doubt willing the scanners to find signs of life. But all the advanced detection equipment aboard – no expense was spared in the aircraft's development – could not find what just wasn't there. Cait was gone, forever. Realizing continued search was futile, he sighed, silently saying goodbye to his friend. Coming out of a wide circle, he applied turbos, and Airwolf screamed away from the gravesite, as if extending her goodbye. Wordlessly, Hawke slipped his hands and feet off the controls, relinquishing control of the powerful machine to his mentor, riding catatonic the rest of the way home to the lair.

Once safely landed, Dom typed a quick message to Archangel, simply stating, "Cait didn't make it", hoping the man in white would understand why he had to silence the radio, for Marella was frantically trying to reach them for an update by the time Dom managed to get String to the cockpit. Dom powered down the equipment, and tucked the lady in, wishing her goodnight. Airwolf responded with a release of air that sounded strangely like a sigh, as if she mourned for Cait, too.

On the way back to the hangar, in the jeep, Hawke cried out that she shouldn't have died like the others, because, "I never told her I loved her." Dom's heard broke when Hawke continued, "She wasn't family, and I never told her I loved her. I thought she would be safe. So how could he take her away?" Dom realized why Hawke and Cait's relationship never expanded into more than mere friendship – from the beginning, he had been terrified of losing her like he lost his parents, fiancé, brother, and girlfriends. Dom hated to see Hawke come to the realization that he should have just loved her anyway, and enjoyed the time they could spend together, however brief.

There wasn't any sleep by the surviving Airwolf crew that night – Hawke and Dom sat wordlessly staring into the fireplace in which neither had bothered to build a fire that they knew Cait would love. After hours of silence, Hawke stated simply to Dom, "She's not dead. She can't be. I would know it if she was gone. I would have felt her die. I still feel her there." Dom patted his arm, and getting up, poured his friend and himself a strong drink. Returning, handing the glass to String, Dom reminded his friend, "At least she was flying. She wanted it that way." Finding no consolation in his friend's wisdom, Hawke returned to silence.

After another hour or so, after his drink was gone, near daylight, Hawke suddenly, without warning, jumped up, bursting out, "She's hurt, Dom, she's hurt!" Dom went to his friend and said, "No, String, she's in peace." Inconsolable, Hawke frantically exclaimed that her wrist was broken and she could barely walk because she had a sprained ankle. Words ran into each other as he screamed that she needed his help, and he was going to find her. In panic, he insisted she hit her head and needed him. "We need to save her, Dom! Come on, let's go!" Grabbing Hawke by the arms, Dom tried reasoning with him, "You have to let her go, she's gone, it's over, String." "No!" was Hawke's only response, tearing away from his friends grip. Whether it was from sheer exhaustion or Hawke finally realized how illogic rushing out to save Cait was, he finally gave up insisting they rush to the cave and cross countries on a wild goose chase to go search for his close friend. He collapsed back onto the couch, giving up.

Dom remained with String, as he promised himself he would do, back on the day String was thrown into shock upon learning she died. Dom feared that String wouldn't pull it together this time; that he would decide to join Cait, and the others he lost.

Hawke would spend hours sitting on the cabin porch, staring out across the lake, at something only he would know. Dom would watch his friend slowly make his way to the dock and stand, keeping up the endless vigil of staring across the water. Dom witnessed the resident bald eagle screaming calls at her 'person', circling ever lower to capture his attention, begging for one of Strings melancholy cello serenades. Only, the eagle's efforts proved fruitless, time and time again, and she would give up, flying away to wherever eagles go. Dom remembered when String lost Gabriel, he seemed to find solace playing for his eagle. This time was different; this time, he lost Cait.

Periodically, Hawke would try to tell Dom or Archangel or Marella that Cait wasn't dead – she couldn't be, that he would know if she died. He would say she told him she was hurt – she broke her arm, sprained her ankle, and hit her head – why wouldn't anyone believe him? Dom, Archangel, and Marella all tried talking to the pilot, but Hawke would shrug, and walk off, or stand there and remain silent, looking past them, to who knows what.

Dom faithfully kept with Hawke, not allowing him out of his sight for longer than it took to use the bathroom. It hurt Dom to hear his friend fitfully toss and turn, trying to fall asleep at night, only to wake up screaming from the nightmare that relived Cait's final moments, and his realization he pulled the trigger. Despite repeated attempts by the older gentleman, Hawke refused to speak with Dom about it, and made it clear that the subject was taboo as far as Archangel and anyone from the Firm were concerned. String, forever the silent one, was shutting down, seemingly for good.

Marella carefully breached the subject of 'reprogramming' with Dom one afternoon, on a rare occasion when Hawke agreed to venture out to Santini Air, explaining that it would help Hawke overcome his deep, dark depression. Knowing there wasn't a thing he could do to prevent it, Dom simply stated an obvious reason not to – Hawke nearly died when Caitlin gave him the antidote to counteract mind-altering drugs that John Bradford Horn administered to him in an effort to gain control of Hawke's rotored gunship. Archangel confided in Marella he would give Hawke a month to come out of his debilitated state.

Revelation

Insidiously, almost imperceptibly, Hawke began sleeping more, waking with nightmares less. After Marella pulled the trick of trying to convince him that 'brainwashing' – or whatever she termed it – was Hawke's most promising chance at recovery, Dom suspected that Marella and Archangel were slipping something to Hawke during their frequent visits. Eventually, Dom relayed his observation to Hawke, expressing that he is healing now, and can finally sleep at night. His friend just mumbled that she 'talks' to him at night; she wasn't really dead, and that she's just hurt, unable to make it back, and they really should go and bring her back. And, why couldn't everyone just understand?! So, that's why he's sleeping all the time now. Dom thought to himself that he just couldn't win, could he?

One evening, Hawke surprised Dom by building a campfire. Dom knew his friend had been avoiding a once-favorite activity, because Cait loved sitting out at night, spending time with the two men who were becoming more family than friends, watching the moon, listening for owls and coyote howls. Confused, and dying to ask Hawke about it, he decided just to let it go. Later, treading as lightly as he could figure how, Dom inquired why this night, of all nights, he decided to light a campfire. String simply blurted out, "Because she's on her way home." Frustrated, at his breaking point, Dom raised up, said goodnight, and went to bed, reluctantly leaving his friend for the first length of time since they lost Cait, not knowing what he'd expect to find the next morning. Sleep came hard to Dom that night; he strained to discern sounds of what his friend String might do, but having difficulty filtering his friends activities from the night sounds Caitlin loved so well.

Anticipation

Dawn broke with the sounds of Hawke chopping wood. Dom wondered when he would resume putting up firewood for winter – Hawke had given up the chore in favor of staring off into space, first beating himself up for her death, which transformed into a vigil of waiting hopelessly for Cait to return. Dom watched Hawke for quite a while through a window, thinking to himself what his grandfather told him, "Chopping wood warms you twice – when you chop it and when you burn it." But Dom just shivered in the cold morning air that invaded the cabin overnight – Dom stocked the fireplace well when he came in from the campfire, but Hawke failed to tend to it before retiring for the evening. A quick glance upstairs into Hawke's sleeping quarters revealed that he neglected to start a blaze in that fireplace, either. Hmmph – when is Hawke going to get past this?

Dom fixed up a simple breakfast and about fainted when Hawke actually ate a few bites of eggs and toast. After dishes were done, he told Hawke they needed to head off to the hanger, but Hawke announced it was time for a flight check with the lady. Normally, Dom would have protested, but this was the first time Hawke suggested taking Airwolf out for a flight that wasn't intended as a rescue mission, so Dom decided the engine repair and routine maintenance could wait another day – hell, they were already way behind schedule. Besides, he needed to stick with Hawke to make sure he wasn't going to sneak a trip out of the country. Or, maybe Hawke would be better off if he made that long trip over international airspace. Maybe seeing the wreckage of the downed plane would give him closure. . . or, Dom thought sadly, make things even worse for Hawke.

Curiously, Hawke seemed to have completely turned a corner. While he certainly wasn't enjoying the flight – normally, he's addicted to flying, much as Cait was – he didn't seem so down, so darkly depressed, so haunted. As Hawke systematically put the aircraft through her paces, Dom thought back to when they arrived at the lair that morning. While they silently attended to preparations for the flight, practiced, like clockwork, they heard Airwolf sigh a greeting to them. Startling Dom, Hawke blurted out, "See, she's ready to go find Cait." There was a time that Dom would be elated that his friend finally admitted that Airwolf had a personality of sorts, but these were not the circumstances in which that would have been welcome. He almost missed Hawke insisting that the lady wasn't talking to them, that it was only a coincidental release due to a change in air pressure. With energy Dom hadn't observed since that tragic day, Hawke readied Airwolf's systems for takeoff, and lifted out of the lair.

Automatically manning the rear controls, still lost in contemplations, Dom was shocked out of his lull when Hawke muscled the chopper into a complete turn-around. Elevating the chopper quickly, Hawke exclaimed that they needed to get back to the cabin fast! Dismissing Dom's insistence that he explain, Hawke called for turbos, and was rewarded with the forward surge she was so well-known for. All Hawke would say is that they had to get back to meet Cait. She was hurt, and needed him. He kept saying that she told him she was there, and was upset because she couldn't find him.

Dom realized he failed, he knew this was it; his friend finally lost it. He'll have that talk with Marella tomorrow, and let her make suggestions for Hawke's treatment.

Disappointment

Hawke sped Airwolf as fast as she ever flew her, but was agitated at how long it took to reach his cabin. He screamed the lady's engines in a circle over his home, then slowed a second round before descending. "I know she's here, I feel her." Settling down on the dock, Dom asked, "Where's Tet?" It was a nice day, and the blue tick hound would customarily lounge on the dock, effectively protesting a landing. Hawk insisted, "Tet's with Cait – he found her." Dom's only reply to Hawke's nonsense was, "String, she can't be here, there's no chopper."

Hurriedly shutting down her engines, Hawke hastened an exit and rushed up to the cabin door, pausing, with a downward glance towards the undisturbed feather he had left there that morning. Hot on his heels, Dom caught Hawke's hesitation in the doorway, and knew he must have left some sign that would be disturbed if someone entered. Dom long suspected that Hawke employed such methods, but failed to discover what he actually did. What he didn't know was Hawke varied the clues – it wasn't always a feather, and it wasn't always right in the doorway.

After frantically searching every nook and cranny of the cabin, a crushed Hawke came out onto the porch, joining Dom. "Look kid," Dom started, with a hand on Hawke's shoulder, "I miss her too, but she's gone. You have to accept it." Unsatisfied, Hawke insisted, "She's here Dom, she's here." Dom answered, "She loved it here, and it's natural to feel connection with her here, but she died, String, she's gone." Hawke just hung his head, refusing to acknowledge that the feeling he had wasn't real, but Dom's reasoning was beginning to make some sense. Tears started to come – to both of their eyes, and they stood hugged for a brief moment.

Through the afternoon hours, Hawke kept his vigil on the porch.

Dom fixed lunch, but as expected, Hawke didn't eat. Something kept nagging at Dom, but he was having trouble identifying what was wrong. Then, it came to him – "Tet! String, where's Tet? He should be here by now. If he wasn't on the dock when we landed, he should be in the house. If he was wandering around, he would have had plenty of time to get back." Angrily, Hawke retorted, "I told you, he's with Caitlin!" Irritated at Hawke's tone, he stormed off the porch, calling out for the dog. After a few calls, he heard excited yips and a short howl. Hawke came down off the porch, peering in the direction of Tet's voice.

Reunion

In the fading sunlight, they saw Tet emerge from the wooded trail. "Hey Tet, what have you been up to?", called Dom. Tet bounded up to him, wagging, and Dom patted him on his head and flopped his ears. Confused because Hawke was oblivious to Tet's return, he looked over in time to see him straighten taller, his face brightening, looking out in the direction from which Tet had come. Barely audible, and almost indiscernible, he whispered, "Cait." Dom turned, and for a moment, thought he saw a ghost through a break in the trees in the waning light. Then, he blinked, and saw nothing out of the ordinary, just trees. "String. . . .", Dom started, disappointment obvious in his voice. Then, for another fleeting instant he saw her ghost, only to have her disappear a moment later. The evening light plays tricks on the eyes, and Dom thought to himself, "Now I know why String sits out here and stares – he thinks he's seeing ghosts. He rubbed his eyes, and saw Tet turn and yip out a call to the trail – and he could hear someone limping through the leaf cover. Hawke exclaimed, "Caitlin!", and made his way to the trailhead, stopping just before reaching her. Silently, they stood watching each other, for what seemed like a long time, studying each other intently. Hawke crossed the distance remaining between them, and reached out, touching her cheek with his finger, while smoothing her hair beside her head with his other hand. "I missed you, Cait." His hand slid around to the back of her neck, and she tilted back slightly, wincing, evidently, with pain from a neck injury. His fingers came up from her cheek to brush wisps of hair from her forehead, and he kissed her slowly, quietly, gently. By the time they separated, sunlight was almost gone, bathing the area in clear moonlight. Twinkling stars started to make their appearance, and a nice breeze began to pick up. Owls could be heard in the distance, and a single coyote's howl – or was it a wolf?

"Welcome Home, Cait.", Hawke whispered, loud enough for Dom to hear. Something in his voice made Dom think this would always be Caitlin's home, that they were together for good.

"I told you, Dom, Tet found Cait." Satisfied with himself, Tet sounded off, singing a hound's melody, running circles around his three friends.

Well after dark, Dom broke the spell, interrupting the reunion with, "I'm calling Archangel. Cait needs to get to a hospital." Irrationally, Hawke protested, saying, "She just got back! Wait 'till tomorrow." Dom kept it up, fussing about her injuries, and rationalizing that they all can go to the hospital together, that the important thing is to make sure Cait receives the medical treatment she has been lacking. "Besides," Dom continued, "she probably needs an I.V. – she looks like she hasn't been eating! You aren't looking too well yourself – you're awfully thin." Not giving in, Hawke said she'd be fine overnight. Cait finally spoke for the first time, kind of shakily, "I've been this long without a doctor, and made it back just fine. Another night won't hurt. You can call in the morning. Really, Dom, I'll go."

Against his better judgment, but suspecting they might need this first night together, Dom acquiesced, corralling the pair up the steps, onto the porch. Before taking her through the doorway into their home, Hawke bent down tenderly and affectionately kissed her again.

After he finished his long, loving kiss, Hawke whispered, "I can't lose you again, Cait. Promise me you won't die."

Cait answered logically, "Everyone dies, Hawke. I can't promise you that I'm not going to die, because I would be lying." Instantly silencing Hawke's impending complaint with a raised finger, she continued, "But, if something happens and we're separated again, you know I won't give up." Mischievously, with a playful tone in her voice, she teased, "You can't shake me that easily, Stringfellow Hawke." Characteristically, he answered her wink with a raised eyebrow. Then, remembering she did track him down all the way from Texas to Santini Air, he shook his head, chuckling.

Relieved, Dom knew things would be alright. Ever resourceful, spunky little Cait convinced String to abandon his fear of losing love and share his feelings with her. Yeah, Cait is different alright. . . .

Cait nibbled at the light dinner Dom threw together for her, while Hawke rummaged and found a nightgown in Cait's things. She smiled when she spied the nightgown hanging in the bathroom when she went in to take a shower. She'd never worn it; why she bought the long white cotton nightgown on an impulse she would never know – she typically didn't wear such feminine nightclothes – flannels and sweats were her evening wear of choice. But, maybe it was meant to be – he obviously found it attractive, or he would have selected one of her usual outfits.

Self-consciously, she made her way from the bathroom to the living room, where the others, including Tet, were waiting. Hawke stifled a gasp when he saw her; he never realized just how beautiful she was. As she settled between them on the couch, he took her hand and noticed her skin was warm from her shower, and soft. She dreaded what would happen next; she knew they expected to hear what happened, and she wanted to know why they didn't come for her. She would rather wait until morning. Taking a deep breath in, she prepared to give her story.

As if reading her mind – and maybe he could, really – Hawke suggested they talk about what happened another time. Instantly, she relaxed into easy conversation interspersed with comfortable silences, while they watched the fire. After a respectable amount of time, Dom got up, replenished the fire generously, said good night and called for Tet to follow. Surprised that he was being asked to leave, Tet yawned a big doggie yawn, squeaked, and trotted off to follow Dom, nails clicking on the floor, leaving Cait and Hawke to themselves.

Hawke reached out to Cait, gently pulling her closer in. Nervously, she snuggled close, growing more confident as his breathing evened out, and she felt him ease tensed muscles. Slowly, she began to calm, quietly she began to let go and relax. She felt safe with him protecting her. It was magical; though she loved before, she'd never been with someone she trusted so completely. She slowly drifted off to sleep in his arms, waking intermittently, and returning to sleep again, feeling safe and secure knowing he was keeping watch over her.

Morning arrived, and Dom was pleased to find them still together, peacefully on the couch, in each others' arms. Hawke relayed a look to Dom that he didn't want to wake her up, so the older gentleman brought the coals back to life, roaring into a fire in short order, chasing the chill away. Tet wandered in and curled up in the chair opposite to Dom, and the family spent the early morning hours together.

Possibilities

The Firm's medical transport helicopter arrived, and Archangel and Marella filed out with the physicians. Dom hadn't explained the homecoming when he used the satellite phone to summon assistance; he wanted them to be just as surprised as he was. He simply said someone was hurt – they were o.k. and it wasn't life-threatening, but needed a doctor, and disconnected. Archangel and Marella suspected that Hawke tried something.

After bounding up the few front steps and bursting through the front door, they couldn't believe their eyes – there was Caitlin, alive, if not exactly well. It was obvious that she had been through an ordeal, and Dom was right – she needed medical attention, but there she was, as alive as they were. Thinner, and injured, but alive. And, seeming remarkably content.

While the medics were checking her over, she explained how she was on the plane that Hawke shot down, but she didn't know he knew she was aboard. She said she would be dead now if she went with, "Plan A", which was to sit tight and wait for a chance to overpower her captors and make a go at debilitating the pilot. "Plan B", wasn't exactly formulated, but ever the opportunist, Caitlin saw an opening for escape and took it. Only one guard was in the cargo bay with her during takeoff, and startled when the landing gear hit rocks, dislodging some equipment from a rack. She kicked him hard, hit the cargo door release, and jumped out, not knowing exactly their height off the ground, but judging the fall would be survivable. She shuddered at the thought of what it would have felt like if she went with, Plan A. Directing her gaze to String and Dom, she confided that when they didn't come back to systematically search for her, she feared they were shot down or had been captured.

Marella hugged Caitlin, then backed off, pulling Cait's arms out as she did so. Cait jumped as Marella reached her left hand. She just about yelled, "You did hurt your wrist!"

Archangel said it was impossible, that it was just a coincidence that Hawke thought she fractured her arm. Dom disagreed, chiming in with a light, cheerful voice, that she also hurt her ankle, and her head.

Hawke answered simply, "I told you she was hurt, Michael, but you wouldn't believe me."

Shaking her head in confusion and disbelief, Marella asked how she communicated with Hawke.

Caitlin said, "I don't know – I was scared, and just kept calling to him and calling. I hoped he would hear me."

Marella asked timidly, tentatively, "Telepathy?"

Archangel dismissed the suggestion with a noise and a gesture; effectively, he thought, hiding the gears turning ever more quickly in his mind . . . remembering a study about ten years back that the Firm was involved in. . . .

Archangel was so immersed in thought, he missed Marella's glance from the corner of her eye. "Hmmm", she thought. . . . "I recognize that look, he's up to something." Then it dawned on her – he remembers that long-distance communication study. At the time, it was thought that people could channel some yet-unknown ability to communicate over distances, lending incredible advantage to specially-trained operatives. But it only had limited success: some type of communication was documented, but few pairs in the study could communicate, communication was sparse and sporadic, and results weren't reproducible. The only messages that were reliably transmitted were fear and pain. But, it had to be true fear and actual pain – simply thinking about it wouldn't work. And, the pairs had to be close friends. Anecdotally, many cultures throughout the world speak of telepathic communication, but efforts to explain it and study the phenomenon scientifically have been in vain. Twins talk about it, long-married couples believe in it. . . . Marella brightened as a silent thought entered her mind, "I wonder if you need a connection with someone?" Making mental notes to read details of the study and to talk to Caitlin about it sometime further on, she guided her friend to the waiting chopper. Lost in thought, she counted up the times that she sensed Michael was in danger. "I wonder . . . ."

Yeeha!

Writer's Note: This was my first attempt at Fan-Fiction. I hope it served as an interesting diversion.