String's Cabin – early morning
Hawke stopped chopping wood and turned to look at the clear blue sky. Dom stopped and looked in the direction String was looking, thinking to himself that this was a beautiful day, clear blue skies with a light breeze to keep the sun from being too warm. He loved the action he got flying Airwolf with String on missions; but he was old enough to appreciate the calm, quiet days.
A few seconds later the white helicopter appeared, and Dom sighed figuring his beautiful day was about to be interrupted. String turned and swung the axe, splitting the chunk of wood in front of him in half. He grabbed the pieces with gloved hands and threw them in the pile he and Dom had been working on all morning.
He grabbed another piece of the former tree, putting it in place and quickly splitting it.
Dom took his lead from String and continued to chop wood that would keep the numerous fireplaces in the cabin well fed all winter long.
Michael and Marella approached the two of them. String stuck the axe in a piece of wood and turned to face Michael. "What brings you out here, Michael?"
"Storm."
String narrowed his eyes. "What about her?"
Michael slipped off his glasses, putting the earpiece in his mouth while he contemplated how best to ask String the favor that had brought him to the cabin.
Not one to beat around the bush, Marella chimed in. "Someone tried to kill her last night."
"Isn't that one of the hazards of the occupation," String said sarcastically. "She insisted she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, so why come to me."
Michael put up his hand when Marella went to speak, her anger reflecting in her face.
"Tom Dempsey was the real traitor. Tyler was just a pawn that got set up to take the fall. Abby found documents that prove it. She went after Tom."
"He nearly killed her," Marella said, when Michael paused.
"But she killed him instead. We had her recuperating in the medical unit at the FIRM for the last week. Then last night someone tried to kill her."
"How'd they get to her if she was in the FIRM?" Dom asked.
"Another traitor," String said, not liking the picture that was developing in his mind.
"Exactly. Only the doctor walked in, and the person had to flee before they accomplished the task. She's not safe at the FIRM, I can't put her at a safe house. I need to hide her here," Michael looked at Hawke.
Hawke shook his head, "She'll never agree."
"She already has," Michael's voice was grim.
String raised an eyebrow surprised by that declaration.
"She's not the same person she was in Uruguay, Mr. Hawke. She's…" Marella's voice faded off as she tried to think of how to describe the change.
"Lost," Michael finished the sentence. "And I'm not sure she'll ever find her way back."
String and Dom exchanged looks. It was hard to reconcile the Abby he was describing with the one they'd met in Uruguay.
"She can stay here Michael. When will you bring her?"
"I'd like to go now and get her and come right back," Michael said. "I don't trust anyone right now."
"I just stocked up on supplies," Dom said.
"Go get her Michael. I'll make sure I'm ready for her."
As the helicopter lifted off, String turned to Dom. "Let's get this place ready. I want to put a few things into place to ensure security is tight."
String's cabin – afternoon that same day
Dom and String stood side by side while Marella landed the helicopter. They stayed standing near the porch, letting the passengers come to them. String watched as Abby walked slowly next to Michael, his hand under her elbow, her eyes on the ground.
She wore a pair of black leggings and a black hooded sweatshirt that was probably three sizes too big for her. It hung to her knees and her hands weren't visible in the flapping sleeves. She had the hood over her head.
She never looked up as Michael stopped before them.
"String, we just want you to know how much we appreciate you opening your home as a place to keep Abby safe," Michael said, looking down at her bowed head.
"Abby, you remember Stringfellow and Dominic don't you," Michael said, trying to get some response from her. Abby gave only the slightest nod. No one spoke for a minute, everyone just looking at Abby.
"Abby," String's voice was gruff as he called her name, making everyone jump at the sudden sound.
Abby's eyes flew up to meet his as she took a step back and behind Michael. He held her gaze, not saying anything else. He just kept his eyes locked on hers. She didn't speak, she just stared at him, her eyes wide.
A gust of wind blew back the hood exposing her face with multiple bruises in various shades of discoloration from the struggle; but it was the finger shaped bruises that wrapped around her neck that drove home the point that someone had tried very hard to kill her and from the dark color of the bruises String knew they had come very close to being successful.
"Oh my God," Dom said, instinctively moving toward Abby to comfort her.
Her eyes flew from String to Dom, and she instinctively moved further behind Michael.
Dom froze. "Sorry."
Abby just reached up to pull the hood back over her head.
"Why don't you go ahead and go inside. We'll be in soon," String suggested.
He watched as Michael helped her up the stairs and then let her go into the cabin alone. String looked at Tet and jerked his head toward the cabin door. Tet followed Abby inside.
"She'll be fine, Michael."
"I wish I was so sure."
"She will be," String said confidently. "Just leave her here uninterrupted for a few weeks."
"Does the doctor say she's safe to not be in the hospital?" Dom asked, the bruises still vivid in his mind.
"If she starts eating and sleeping, she will be," Marella said. "Even with the high doses of pain medication there is no indication she's sleeping."
"She just needs time," String said. "Seriously, Michael, at least 3 weeks, no visits, no interruptions.
"String, I think she knows who the other traitor is, I need that information."
"She can't give it to you right now Michael. You've got to give her time. Her brain is in survival mode."
"You'll call me if she says anything?"
"You have my word."
"Let me tell her good-bye," Michael moved up the porch and into the cabin. "Where is she?" His voice had a hint of panic as he glanced around the room and there was a no indication of Abby being in the cabin.
String ran an expert eye around the room stopping when he saw Tet. A hand was resting on the dog's side, little wisps of blonde hair visible in between pillows that had been arranged as a cave against the fireplace.
"Right there," String nodded in her direction. When everyone paused to look you could hear faint steady breathing coming from across the room as Abby slept cocooned in the pillows, her armed draped around Tet.
"She'll be fine, Michael. We'll see you in a few weeks."
"Do you want me to stay?" Dom asked.
String shook his head. "Let's give her as little to deal with as possible the first few days. Why don't you swing by next weekend?"
String settled down on the couch with a book, watching the sleeping figure out of the corner of his eye.
String's cabin – just before midnight
String looked up from the pot on the stove at the sudden movement across the room. Abby had sat up and was looking around the room, her movements jerky and even from the distance Hawke could see the panic in her eyes.
"You're safe, Abby," he said quietly. "Welcome to my home."
Abby froze and then slowly looked at him.
"Michael brought you over this afternoon. You've been asleep since about 3 PM. You've got to be hungry by now. Why don't you come to the table and have something to eat with me?"
Abby didn't move; but String ignored that fact and started carrying bowls of fish chowder to the table. He took a loaf of warm bread and cut it into thick slices, slathering each slice with butter.
He pretended not to be watching as Abby used the hearth of the fireplace to slowly get to her feet. Her face showing the pain of the movements. String walked back into the kitchen and got her pain pills and a glass of water. He set them next to her bowl.
She slowly walked across the room, her eyes down, but he knew she was watching him. He kept his movements slow and deliberate and gave her a lot of space as she neared the table. He watched her sit down and then took his seat.
He started eating without trying to have a conversation with her. She sat for several minutes just looking at the food; but eventually picked up the spoon and took a bite.
After several bites she looked up at him.
He let his eyes meet hers; but said nothing.
"It's very good, thank you," her voice was so quiet he doubted if it hadn't been for his exquisite hearing, he would have heard her. She looked back down at her bowl and continuing to eat.
"You're welcome."
The rest of the meal was eaten in silence; but String didn't mind the quiet and he knew she needed it so there wasn't any awkwardness. Just comfortable silence. String watched as Abby's shoulders began to relax and her breathing became deeper. He felt that was a great accomplishment for the first evening.
String cleared the table and began to wash the dishes. He did nothing more than give her a slight nod when she joined him at the sink and began drying the dishes. Setting them back on the counter rather than go through his cupboards to find their proper location.
When he had finished washing, he started to put them away as she watched and learned where things went.
"I cleared a couple of dresser drawers for the clothing Marella brought for you," String said, as he put away the last spoon. "I'll take you upstairs and show you everything."
String started to move toward the stairs but stopped when she didn't move.
"I'm not going to take your bed," she said.
"I'm not going to let you sleep down here closer to the door than I am," String said. "You're still healing, and you need your rest."
A part of him was hoping she'd give him an argument, to show some of the spunk he'd seen in Uruguay. Instead, she simply looked down at the ground a gave a small nod.
As they neared the stairs, he paused. "Can I help you?"
Abby looked up at the stairs and accepted the fact she could not do all those stairs herself. She moved closer to String and allowed him to put an arm around her waist and slowly walk her up the stairs, Tet trailing closely behind.
She watched quietly as he showed her where her clothing was being kept, to the bathroom and she simply nodded. It wasn't until he opened the drawer beside the bed that she looked at him and took a step back.
"In case you need it, Abby,"
Abby looked at the Glock sitting in the drawer and shook her head.
"I doubt anyone will find you here Abby and if they do, I will do my best to make sure they don't get past me; but you need to be prepared."
"I can't," she whispered.
"You can."
She shook her head, "I can't."
She swayed slightly and String reached out to steady her. "Please," she whispered. "Close the drawer."
String pushed the drawer closed.
"Let's get you into bed," String pulled back the covers and kept a hand on her arm until she was laying down in bed. He pulled the covers up over her and walked over to the fireplace to add another log.
He turned back to see Tet already laying on the bed snuggled close to Abby.
He made his way downstairs and got comfortable on the couch. It was still quite some time before he drifted off to sleep thinking about the changes in the woman in his bed.
The reason he'd called her name was to see if she'd meet his eyes. She'd not only met his eyes; but held his gaze. That fighting spirit was still there; it was just beaten up, like her. He was surprised by how fragile she seemed at times though. He wanted to believe if she had too, she could grab that gun; but in his gut he knew if anything happened tonight it would be up to him and Tet to keep her safe. She wasn't ready to do it herself yet.
He glanced over at his own gun sitting on the table just a few feet away. He'd make sure she was safe while she was with him. It was a promise he felt to his very core.