CHAPTER 10
"Is he going to be okay?" Le van Hawke asked concernly.
"I hope so," Caitlin answered without thinking.
"What?"
"Yeah, he should be fine, just bumped his head a little on his way down, that's all," she recovered.
Painfully maybe, but eventually he could physically heal, at least to a certain extent. His mental state was what worried her the most. He was on the brink of loosing everything he valued most and it was obvious he was burning out.
She pulled a light quilt over him and perched on the edge of the sofa beside him, sitting in silence as she looked at Le for a brief moment the abruptly got p to hug the boy.
"Are you alright? How'd you even get here? We've been worried something happened to you, thought you might have gotten kidnapped or something."
"When nobody came back the hangar after I got back from school I got someone across the way to give me a ride up here to wait until I heard what happened. What did happened?"
"I don't know," Caitlin answered. 'Dom, Saint John, String, and someone else were in an accident. No one can really say what went wrong or if it was even truly and accident. I finally found String, although he can't remember much of the incident, and later we located Dominic and Saint John who had somehow gotten separated from him. String was in pretty bad shape and actually still faces the threat of not being able to fly; he's getting better, but slower than he would like. His brother is still in a coma though, and Dom isn't much better."
"But they're going to be okay, right?"
"It's still a waiting game, but I'm holding out hope." She dropped her arm and looked at him again for a minute, realizing exactly what Hawke meant about it not mattering if he was a blood relative or not. He was family now and, promise or not, he would stay that way. "Would you help me get a little something together for him?" she requested, referring to the man who was beginning to stir on the couch. "I guess we're staying here for the night after all."
\A/
"Archangel to the cabin, Hawke, are you there?" Michael radioed, exhaustion evident in his tone.
Startling slightly, Stringfellow Hawke barely registered the noise.
"Hawke? Anyone?"
Suddenly awake, he sat up too fast and immediately regretted doing so. Doing his best to push aside the rising nausea, he crawled across the floor, not yet ready to attempt sustaining his own weight, to answer Michael's beaconing.
"I'm here, Michael, what is it?:"
"You're a hard man to get a hold of, Hawke. I thought I would be the first to tell you, your brother isn't doing well; he took a turn for the worst last night."
After several steadying breaths, he still couldn't formulate a coherent question.
"Hawke, you alright?" Michael asked, sympathy recognizable even over the radio connection .
"Yeah," he replied, a lie neither of them believed. "How bad is it?" He swallowed, trying to brace himself for whatever news Michael would impart, knowing it was useless.
"He was conscious last night, just before midnight."
"What do you mean was?"
"He couldn't take the pain and we had to put him into a medically induced coma."
"Isn't that a pretty big risk, considering?"
"It is," Michael allowed. "And I wish we hadn't needed to, but there was no other option we could come up with. If you had seen or heard him, and I'm glad you didn't have to, you would understand. With what we know, he could be almost completely paralyzed or eventually fully recover and there isn't much we can do but make him comfortable."
"Hawke," Cait called from the loft.
"Thanks for the update. I'll be up there as soon as I can get Cait to take me, but if I don't want her to kill me I better go."
"Good luck with that, and take it easy. Angel out."
He attempted to make it back to the sofa before Caitlin make it downstairs but failed, getting pinned with a relentless glare.
"What are you doing up?"
"Rehab exercises?" he supplied the first excuse that came to mind, no matter how weak it was.
"Not yet you aren't. Just last night you collapsed on the dock. I think you'd better come up with something better than that."
"Michael radioed in, Saint John isn't doing well. I'd like to go see him."
"I can appreciate that, but if you don't start listening to the doctor's orders you are going to find yourself back in the hospital."
"I know. Would you take me to see him though?" he requested, a sobering plea that foretold just how serious it was. "Please."
What was she supposed to say to that? He needed to stay home and rest. On the other hand, what if Saint John didn't make it and she was the cause of them not getting to see each other? String had spent the better part of his life looking for his brother, surely he deserved that much. But at what risk? If anything, the last couple of days he seemed worse.
"Cait?"
When she finally forced herself to meet his gaze she couldn't even begin to comprehend the pain and vulnerability his eyes held with that silent continuing plea, powerless to do it on his own.
"Get some more rest and I'll see if we cant work it out," she replied, knowing all the while he mind was made up.