Raising Hawkes

Author's Note: While this story is starting out chronologically, it may not stay that way, depending on how and when stories come to me.

Chapter 1 That Day

It was well after midnight when Dominic Santini finally found a moment to collapse on his couch, bury his face in his hands, and give into his own grief. It had been all he could do to keep it at bay through this long, long day, but the two boys who were now his responsibility had needed him to be strong, to help them believe that things could go on and get better. They were finally asleep, but he was expecting nightmares. How could they not have them, after such a horrible day?

Whether he wanted it to or not, his mind was insistently roaming back over the day that had started out so well and ended so horribly. It had been a gorgeous early summer day in California, and he'd been at his hanger, happily tinkering away on the vintage Stearman biplane he'd just purchased, trying to figure out how much work it would need to get it back in the air again. His air service, Santini Air, was starting to get some work in Hollywood when stunt flying was needed, and a director had recently asked him about planes for period movies. If he could get this plane flying and do that kind of work, his air service was sure to take off and make a tidy profit. To his mind, there was nothing better than making good money doing something you loved, and Dom loved flying.

For once he was almost annoyed when he heard the short wave radio squawk in his office. Dom was always ready to talk to pilot friends who were passing through. Or it could be his best friend, Alan Hawke, inviting him up to the family's summer cabin for dinner. The Hawke family, Alana and his wife Jane, had headed up into the San Gabriel Mountains just a week ago, when their two sons, 15-year-old St. John and 12-year-old Stringfellow, had finished school for the summer. So he put down his tools and headed for the office.

What he heard as he got closer sent him running. It was a young voice, St. John if he wasn't mistaken. While it wasn't unusual for him to talk to the boys on the radio, one of their parents always placed the call first. And although he couldn't make out words yet, St. John sounded panicky. The boy might be only 15, but he was steady and practical, and it took a lot to panic him.

"Uncle Dom? Please be there! Please, Uncle Dom, pick up! I don't know what to do, and I need help!"

Dom skidded into the office and grabbed the mike. "I'm here, Sinjin," he answered. "What's wrong?"

The boy broke into a rapid babble, so fast and so upset that Dom could only understand a few words. Those he did understand chilled him to the bone. Boat…Mom and Dad…String…explosion…Oh God. No.

"Sinjin, slow down! I can't understand a word you're saying!" It didn't get through the boy's panic. Dom sucked in a deep breath and bellowed "Sinjin Hawke!" The babble stopped.

Dom took advantage of the boy's shock at being yelled at. "I'm sorry, son, I know you're upset, but I can't understand a word you're saying and I can't help if I don't know what's wrong. I need ya to slow down. Take a big deep breath for me and let it out slow." He heard the boy comply. "Again. And one more. Okay, now start at the beginning and tell me what's going on."

St. John's voice was shaky, but he'd broken through the panic. "We were all out in the motor boat, fishing. I don't know what happened, but all of a sudden there was an explosion and the next thing I knew I was coming up from under the water and there was fire on the surface of the lake. Burning gasoline, I think. Then String floated up right next to me with his arm in one of the patches of fire and I dragged him away from it. He wasn't awake and I wasn't sure he was breathing, so I gave him a rescue breath like they taught us in Scouts."

"Good, Sinjin, you did right. Did he breathe?"

"He coughed and it sounded real gurgly so I knew I had to get him back to shore. Once I got him on the beach I found a pulse and I could see that he was breathing, and then he started coughing so I rolled him over and he coughed up a lot of water. I left him for a minute to look out and see if I could see Mom or Dad, but I couldn't, just the fire and maybe a few pieces of the boat. When I looked back, String's eyes were open but when I went to talk to him he didn't look at me or do anything, he was just staring and shaking. I knew I needed to take care of him, so I had to leave Mom and Dad…" the boy sobbed.." and I had to carry String up to the cabin."

Shock, at least, Dom thought. Maybe a concussion or something. Good thing String's so small and St. John's built bigger. "You did the right thing, Sinj," he said. "String was there and needed your help right away. I know you feel bad about leaving your parents, but they'd want you to take care of your brother."

"I know. Once I got him inside I tried taking a quick look through the binoculars but I still can't see anything except pieces of boat. The fire's out now, at least. String's sitting up now but he's still staring and shaking and doesn't answer me. What do I do?"

Dom thought fast, what St. John could do, what he needed to do, and what order to do it in. "Are you still in your wet clothes?"

"Yes."

"Get both of you dried off and into dry clothes, that lake water's still freezing cold. You might need to dress String. Then get one of the big blankets and wrap both of you up in it so you both get warm. I'll be on my way up to you in a few minutes, and I'll call Search and Rescue on the way to get them looking for your Mom and Dad. String is your responsibility until I can get there, and you need to stay focused on him."

"Ok, Uncle Dom." The boy sounded exhausted but settled in what he needed to do. Dom knew that the kid had to be fighting the urge to go look for his parents, but if he hadn't seen them yet there was a good chance they were gone. He held back a sob.

"I'll be there as fast as I can," he promised. "Just hold on to String until I can get there." He signed off the radio, fighting tears. No time to cry. The boys needed him, and it would take him over half an hour once he could take off to get to them. There was one call he needed to make first, though.

Looking through his Rolodex, he found the phone number for Dan Samuelson, the lawyer that he and Alan both used. He placed the call, but got no answer at the office. That was strange. Then his eye fell on the calendar - Saturday. Of course Dan wasn't in his office. Thankfully, he also had the man's home number in case of emergencies.

The phone range twice before Dan's wife, Mary, picked up.

"Mary, its Dominic Santini. Is Dan home? I need to talk to him as soon as possible."

"Hello, Dominic, yes he's here. He's out in the backyard with the kids. Can he call you back?"

Dom knew the busy lawyer didn't get as much time with his kids as he would like, but there was no other way. "I'm sorry, Mary, it's an emergency. I need to speak to him right now." He heard her put the phone down, and the door slam. A few minutes later Dan picked up the phone.

"What's wrong, Dominic?"

Dom found it hard to talk with the lump in his throat, and he knew he sounded hoarse. "I just got a call from Sinjin Hawke. There's been an accident up at the cabin and if Alan and Jane are still alive, they aren't going to be able to take care of the boys for a while. I'm going up and I need you to be ready to back me up that I'm their guardian. I don't have time to go back to the house to get my copy of the paper, and I don't know if there's a copy at the cabin or where it would be. Can I give the authorities your home number?"

"Absolutely. Oh, that's horrible. I hope they aren't too badly hurt."

"From what Sinjin told me, Dan, I think they're probably dead." Dom swallowed hard. "The motor boat exploded. Sinjin got String to shore but he hasn't seen his parents at all."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Dominic," Dan said softly. "I'll go right over to the office and make sure I have everything together in case you're right."

"Thanks." Dom hung up and started gathering what he would need, pulling the Jet Ranger out, and locking up the hanger. He couldn't see clearly for the tears streaming down his face and he wiped them away angrily. He needed to see to fly, damn it!

After getting clearance from the tower, he took off, angling on the straightest route possible to the cabin. As soon as he was out of the immediate busy area of the airport, he turned the radio to the emergency frequency and called Search and Rescue. They answered quickly, and it was Mike James, a man he and Alan both knew. Dom and Alan had helped more than once with searches near the cabin, and even the boys helped on ground searches.

"Mike, its Dom Santini. You need to get a Search and Rescue team up to the Hawke cabin in the San Gabriel's. Probably need divers."

"What happened?" Mike asked getting ready to jot down details.

"Sinjin Hawke called me. Their motor boat exploded. He got String to shore, but he hasn't seen his parents at all and said there's just pieces of the boat."

"Oh, no," Mike groaned. "I'll get a team on the way as fast as possible, and I'll have to call in the police. Are you on your way up?"

"Yeah."

"Are either of the boys hurt?"

"I think Sinjin's OK. He said String was unconscious when he got him out of the lake, but he coughed up a lot of water and woke up. He's probably in shock at least, Sinj said he's sitting up but just staring and shaking and won't answer him. Might have some burns on one arm, too, Sinj said his arm came up in a patch of burning gas."

"At least the cold lake water would help with the burn," Mike said. "You had them get into dry clothes?"

"Yeah, and wrap up together in one blanket."

"Good call." Mike paused, then said softly, "I'm sorry, Dom. I know you and Alan are close. We'll be there as soon as we can." He signed off.

Close, Dom thought. That's an understatement if I ever heard one. Alan and I have been like brothers since we met in the Army. Fighting through 2 wars together – World War 2 and Korea – will do that to guys. I don't know how I'm going to manage without Al at my back, but I have to, for the boys.

Dom took a quick look down at the lake as he flew over, but he saw nothing but an oil slick and wreckage. Damn. They're probably both gone. I'm sorry, Alan. I'll do my best for your boys, to raise them as the kind of men you and Jane can be proud of. It's probably all I can do for you now.

Landing on the reinforced dock, he shut the chopper down quickly and ran up the path to the house. As he stepped in, he saw St. John and String huddled under a blanket by the fireplace. He went over quickly and sat down with them, wrapping them both into his arms. "I've got you, boys. Search and Rescue's on the way."

Pulling away from him, St, John bit his lower lip then asked tremulously, "What happens to me and String now, Uncle Dom? Are they gonna take us away and put us with another family?"

"No," Dom answered firmly. "Your parents set things up a long time ago. They had Mr. Samuelson write up a paper that makes me your legal guardian if anything happened to your mom and dad. That means that I'll be acting in place of your parents until they can take care of you again, and you'll live with me."

"What if they're…dead?" St. John whispered.

"Then you're mine until you're old enough to go out on your own as adults, and I'll always be there for you even after that, just like your parents would have done. You'll be with me, and we'll be our own family."

St. John heaved a sigh of relief. "OK. I was worried about maybe getting split up, or put in an orphanage or something. Someplace where they wouldn't understand about String and his cello and stuff."

Dom nodded. String was something of a musical prodigy, unusually sensitive, and probably a genius as well, and then there were the other odd things about the younger boy – the very acute hearing, and the way he had of knowing when something wasn't right. Put him with the wrong people, and he could turn in on himself and never come out of the shell he was in now. He would need his big brother and his Uncle Dom to come out of this whole.

Dom felt the younger boy twitch and then turn his head to the ceiling. Good, he's reacting. Yeah, there are the choppers he heard. He'll be OK. "That's probably Search and Rescue and the police. You two stay in here, I'm going to go talk to them."

Leaving the two boys clinging to each other, Dom stepped out on the porch. The S&R chopper was doing a grid search over the lake already, and the police chopper was landing in the yard. He waited as an officer got out of the left side of the chopper and sent the bird back into the air again to join the search. Dom walked down to meet him halfway, and they turned back towards the cabin.

"Dominic Santini?" the officer asked. "Officer Thomas. Mike James said you'd be up here when we arrived. I understand you're a friend of the family and got the first call?"

"Yeah," Dominic said sadly. "Alan Hawke and I have been best friends for years. We served together. There's no phone up here, so Sinjin called me on the radio for help."

"How old is Sinjin?" Officer Thomas asked, mangling the name slightly as he got out his notebook. "I understand there are 2 children?"

"Yeah. Two boys. Sinjin is 15 and String's 12. They're in the cabin, in dry clothes and wrapped up in a blanket." He spelled the names for the officer.

"I understand they were in the boat when it exploded. Are they injured?"

"Sinjin's OK. He got his brother out of the lake and took care of him until I got here. String's in shock, I think. He's a pretty sensitive kid, and he's kind of shut down right now, but he heard the choppers come in and reacted to them, so I think he'll be OK, too. Sinjin said he might have some burns on his arm – I ain't had a chance to look yet."

The officer sighed. "With them both underage, I guess I'll have to send my pilot down to pick up somebody from Children's Services to take charge of them."

"No, you won't," Dominic said firmly. "Alan and Jane had papers drawn up years ago to make me legal guardian for the boys if anything happened to them. I'll take them with me."

"Sir, you understand I'll need to see those papers before I can let you take the boys…"

"Don't you 'Sir' me," Dominic said hotly. "I work for a living. I ain't got'em with me. I was at my air service when Sinjin called and I didn't have time to go back to the house. I don't know if Alan and Jane have a copy here. You can call our lawyer and check with him. I called him before I came up here and he was going to the office to make sure he had everything at home with him. Nobody's taking those boys out of here except me."

St. John came out on the porch. "String wanted me to come out here. Is something wrong?"

"He talk to you?" Dom asked quickly.

"No, he's still not talking, but he pointed to the door and shoved me this way."

"Do you know if your parents have any legal papers or stuff that they bring up here with them?" Dom asked. "The officer here isn't sure he wants to let me take you two with me until he sees the papers."

"There's a lock box they always bring with them. There's a key hanging off it. I'll go get it." The boy went inside.

"That's Sinjin?" Officer Thomas said. "He's pretty together for what happened here today."

"He's a good, steady kid," Dom said proudly. "I knew once I got him out of his panic when he called me he'd be able to pull it together to look after String until I could get here."

"How did String know to send him out? Sinjin obviously didn't hear us."

"String's got really good ears," Dom said as they stepped into the cabin. He stifled a snort as he saw the officer do a double-take at the art on the walls. St. John came over with the lock box and put it on the dining room table.

"Thanks," Officer Thomas said. "If you don't mind, I'd like to check your younger brother out first. Mr. Santini said he hadn't had a chance to look at his arm yet."

"OK," St. John said, and led them over to where String was sitting by the fireplace. "Hey little brother, can you show the officer your arm? It's not too bad," he explained. "Red, and some blisters."

String looked from his brother to Dom, who nodded at him. Dropping his eyes, he pulled his left arm out from under the blankets and held it out. Most of the forearm was red and slightly blistered, but the burns weren't bad. Officer Thomas took a gentle hold of the arm and looked at it closely.
"Does it hurt?" he asked the boy. String nodded. "A lot?" String shook his head. "A little?" Another head shake. "Kind of medium, then?" String nodded. "Does anything else hurt?" String still didn't look up, but he put a hand on his head, and then on his chest. "Headache?" A nod. "Can I look at your chest?" Again String looked at Dom, who nodded. String let the officer take the blanket off and lift his shirt. There were no bruises, but the boy flinched as Officer Thomas pressed lightly against his ribs. "That hurts?" String nodded.

"The ribs don't feel broken, but he might have gotten hit by some debris that bruised him." The officer got out a small flashlight. "String, can you look up at me? I want to take a look at your eyes with my flashlight." String did as he was asked, and endured the light shined into and out of his eyes, but dropped his gaze again as soon as the officer was done. "His eyes are reacting normally, so I don't think he has a concussion. Is he normally this quiet around people he doesn't know?"

Dom shook his head. "He's a little shy, but he's not talking to me or Sinj either. Maybe he's just too shook up to find his voice yet."

"I can believe that," Officer Thomas said. He stood up. "Let's see if those papers are in the lock box. If they are, I can let you get the boys away from here." String surged to his feet, shaking his head violently, folding his arms across his chest and standing firm, now staring at the officer with stubborn eyes.

"OK," the officer said, surprised. "You don't want to leave?" String shook his head again. He tried to speak and they saw his lips form the words "Mom and Dad" but no sound came out. "You want to wait until they find your parents?" He nodded.

Dom stepped in. "String, they might not find them right away, especially if…well, if they're dead." String looked at him, then out the window, then back at Dom. "You want me to go check? They'll land here anyway if they find them." String looked out the window again, his gaze settling on the Santini Air chopper, then back at Dom. "No way, kid. They got enough people searching out there. My place is right here with you and Sinj." String huffed and plopped down on the couch. "Now that's more like String," Dom said. "Well, except for the not talking part."

"I think we can safely say that other than not having his voice right now, he's doing OK," Officer Thomas said. "Let's go check that lock box." The two men walked towards the table, where St. John had already opened the box. Dom searched through the paperwork until he found something with the Samuelson Legal Services logo on it. "Here it is." He handed it to Officer Thomas. The policeman scanned it, then said, "Yes, this clearly names you legal guardian. Can I see your ID just as a formality?"

Dom huffed and pulled out his wallet, getting out both his driver's and pilot's licenses. The officer checked them over, nodding. "Ok, Sir..Mr. Santini," he corrected himself with a smile, "The boys are in your guardianship. Can you step outside for a minute for a few more questions?"

Dom followed him out. They were halfway down to the dock before Officer Thomas asked, "How far away do we need to get for String not to be able to hear us?"

Dom laughed briefly. "The other side of the mountain, according to Sinj. He gets real annoyed with String tracking him down. We're probably OK here."

"I bet," Officer Thomas said. "Little brothers can be a pain." He hesitated. "Look, I hate to ask this, but I have to," he said softly. "Was there any animosity between the boys and their parents?"

Dom bristled. "No!" he said angrily. "They're a good solid family. Usual stuff when the kids push too far, but nothing long-term. Nothing between Alan and Jane, either."

"Any chance one of the boys was messing around with the motor or the gas can?"

"Nope," Dom declared firmly. "They're not like that. They know not to touch stuff like that unless one of the adults is with them."

"Ok. It's probably just a rotten accident. It's a good thing Sinjin thought to call you and you could get here quick." He stopped as he heard a sound coming from the cabin. It was a cello, playing slow and sad. Some of the notes were a bit off. He looked at Dom, question in his eyes.

"String," Dom said softly. "He's a real good musician. His mom is…was, too."

"Maybe his cello will do the talking for him for a while," Officer Thomas said. "I hope he keeps playing. He's already really good."

Dom nodded, watching the officer leave and listening to String's cello doing the crying for him. His own eyes were full of tears again. Oh, Alan, he thought, me and the boys are going to miss you and Jane something awful.

It was several hours later, and nearing dusk, when Mike James landed his chopper on the lawn. Dom met him outside. "We found them," Mike said softly. He shook his head at Dom's questioning look. "Judging by the injuries, they were right on top of the explosion. They must have died instantly. I'm sorry."

Dom scrubbed a hand across his face, wiping away tears. "Better that than drowning, or lingering in pain," he said roughly. "Do you need me to identify them?"

"No," Mike said. "I took care of that since I know them, too."

"Should…should I let the boys see them?" Dom asked hesitantly.

"No," Mike answered instantly. "I wish I hadn't seen them. It's bad, Dom. As bad as anything I saw during the war. Any worse, and we would have needed dental records to make the ID."

Dom grimaced. "Now I just have to go tell the boys. String wouldn't leave until you found them, you know. If you had had to stop the search overnight, I don't know what I would have done."

"At least you don't have to deal with that," Mike agreed. "Go tell them, and get them away from here. I'll make sure the rangers check in on the place until you can get it dealt with."

"Thanks." Dom trudged heavily up the path. God, he hated what he had to do now, but better from him than someone the boys didn't know.

Both heads shot up as he walked into the cabin, but there wasn't much hope in the eyes. He sat down on the couch, and pulled both boys into his arms. "They found them," he said, his voice breaking. "They're both dead. Mr. James said the explosion killed them right off." The boys burrowed into his arms, crying miserably. God, I wish I could cry with you, Dom thought. But I can't, not yet. You need me to be the strong one for now.

Dom barely remembered packing clothes and String's cello, flying back to the hanger, and getting them all to his house. He'd pulled some soup out of the freezer, but none of them could eat much. He'd finally gotten the boys bathed and into bed, wrapping some gauze around the burns on String's arm to protect the blisters. They'd cried themselves to sleep while he murmured softly to them in Italian, one hand rubbing each back. And now he sat here on his own couch, finally letting out his own pain. He figured he'd be doing this alone a lot over the next few weeks.

And then he felt thin arms, one wrapped in gauze, wrap around him as a slim form settled draped over his back. String's head came to rest on his shoulder up against his own. No, Dom thought, I'm not alone in this. We're in this together.