A faint stream of early morning sunlight was beginning to filter through the blinds when Hawke reopened his eyes. His gaze immediately fell on Caitlin curled up in the chair beside the bed. She was asleep, an open book on her lap. His expression softened as he caught the glint of her wedding ring. There was so much they hadn't discussed yet…so much they hadn't had the opportunity to…he frowned as his senses caught something. Someone was in the room with them. He jerked his head round to the left, winced at the sharp pain he caused with the movement before the sight before him stole his breath completely; Saint John.

His brother sat resting in another easy chair pulled up to the other side of the bed. His light brown hair looked mussed and he was unshaven, dressed in a green flight suit. Saint John's eyes snapped open. The two brothers looked at each other; hazel eyes into blue.

'God, String!' Saint John pushed himself to his feet and leaned over to hug his younger brother to him. 'You scared the bejesus out of me!' He kept his voice low so they wouldn't disturb Caitlin.

'Guess I'm too stubborn to die.' Hawke eased back from his brother. 'Guess we both are.'

'I'm guessing in your case someone's too stubborn to let you.' Saint John slanted a look at the woman across the bed.

'She has this thing about my getting medical attention.' Hawke explained.

'I kinda figured.' Saint John smiled sheepishly, sitting back down. 'How are you feeling?'

'Weak as a kitten,' Hawke admitted, 'but I'm alive. How are you?'

'I'm OK. Adjusting, I guess.' Saint John grinned. 'It's weird not being under cover anymore.' He leaned forward in the chair. 'I had no idea that you didn't know I wasn't MIA. If I'd known I would have contacted you, you have to believe that.'

'I believe you.' Hawke murmured. He still wasn't sure how he felt about his brother condemning him to years of uncertainty about his fate despite the words. It was done and it seemed pointless getting angry about it but he could feel his skin bristling with pinpricks of hurt that threatened to grow into something nastier anyway. He sighed. There was an awkward silence.

Saint John cleared his throat. 'There's also the matter of the helicopter you left me with.'

'How is the Lady?' Hawke felt another pang of envy in his gut. Even with the next generation Airwolf helicopter and the news that the artificial intelligence was transferred, it felt strange that Airwolf was no longer exclusively his.

'We're getting used to her.' Saint John smiled. 'Caitlin helps out with the odd question now and again when I can sneak a phone call to her. She's making me look good.'

'The Company don't know…?' Hawke glanced over at his wife protectively.

'They don't know where you are, I may have given them the impression you were dead.' Saint John paused. 'Even Jo thinks you're dead.'

Hawke shifted impatiently and turned back to his brother; he wasn't bothered about himself only about his wife. 'What about Caitlin?'

'They also have no idea about Caitlin or even who she is. I talked to Jo and she's agreed to keep Caitlin's existence from the rest of the team.' Saint John reassured him. He leaned forward clasping his hands and glanced over at his sister-in-law. 'She's great, String. I can see why you married her.'

Hawke smiled. 'Best thing I ever did.'

Saint John smiled. It had been a long time but if he was reading his brother right, those simple words spoke volumes. He frowned as he saw Hawke's eyelids droop.

'You're tired.' Saint John stood up. 'Get some rest. I'll come back later.'

Hawke heard his brother leave the room as his eyes closed and fell asleep.

A nurse shook Hawke awake a few hours later, pressing medication on him and helping him with his morning ablutions despite his protests that he could manage fine on his own. Caitlin looked on for a while with amusement before disappearing. She arrived back, freshly showered and changed, to find him back in bed fuming silently at his own weakness and contemplating the bowl of cereal he'd been given for breakfast.

'Hey.' Hawke's gaze snapped to her as she hovered in the doorway.

'Hey.' Caitlin moved inside and shut the door. She gestured at his bowl. 'You don't want it?'

'I was hoping for pancakes.' He joked. He lay down the spoon. He'd only managed a couple of mouthfuls and his stomach was churning uneasily.

'It'll take you awhile to get back on solid food.' Caitlin kissed him and moved to perch on the bed after she helped him settle back against the pillows.

Hawke smiled at her, noting the damp strands of hair that clung to her neck where the hair-dryer hadn't quite reached. 'The nurse said the doctor would be along later to talk to me about my recovery program.' He reached out a hand and was pleased when she took it. 'Saint John was here earlier.'

Caitlin nodded. 'I saw him when he arrived.'

'It's weird having him back.' Hawke admitted.

'You talk any?' Caitlin asked.

'Some.' Hawke sighed.

'Just give it some time, Hawke.' Caitlin smiled at him.

'Yeah.' Hawke kissed the palm of her hand. 'You know,' he said, 'we didn't get a chance to talk about you or the baby before I passed out again last night.'

'I'm fine…'

'What about the morning sickness?' Hawke said.

'It's pretty much stopped.' Caitlin said happily. 'Just occasionally, now and again. The doctor's here have been great; they've been looking after me. The baby's moving now. Here. Feel.' Caitlin placed his hand under her shirt, over the gentle curving bump of her pregnancy and he felt the strangest sensation against his fingertips.

'Wow.' Hawke was stunned. 'That's the baby?'

'That's the baby.' Caitlin confirmed. 'Doesn't it feel incredible?'

He glanced up at Caitlin. She looked as awed as he felt. He wished fervently that he had been there for the first time she had felt their baby move inside her. How many other moments had he missed out on?

'I'm so sorry, Cait.' Hawke murmured.

'What for?' She asked confused.

'Not being here for you.'

'You're here now and you're going to be with us from now on.' Caitlin said knowing there was nothing else she could say to take away the hurt and guilt he was feeling. 'That's what counts.'

'From now on.' Hawke promised. The tiny fluttering happened again and he stroked her skin gently. His dream came back to him. Dom had told him he'd have a…a son. 'He's pretty active, huh?'

'He?' Caitlin raised an eyebrow amused at the sudden use of the pronoun. When they'd found out she was pregnant, they'd decided not to label the baby early, agreeing that they would be happy with either a boy or a girl as long as they were healthy.

'I think he's a boy.' Hawke said.

'Any reason?' Caitlin asked curious at the certainty in his expression.

Hawke hesitated but gave in seeing her curiosity. 'I kinda had this dream just before I came to.'

'Oh?'

He rubbed at the soft skin of her belly under his fingers. 'I was in the office at Santini Air talking to Dom and he told me that I needed to take care of you and our son.'

'Dom told you?'

Hawke nodded. 'It was weird, Cait. It was like we were saying goodbye.'

'Maybe you were.' Caitlin felt more tears threatening at the sadness in his voice and she took a shaky breath.

'Maybe.' Hawke's hand flattened over her tummy as he looked back up at her. 'He told me he'd always be backing me.'

'He always did.' Caitlin said.

'Yeah.' Hawke smiled at her and leaned forward to capture her lips.

The door opened and his brother strode in. Saint John came to a stop seeing the couple kissing and Hawke's hand beneath Caitlin's shirt. 'Sorry.' He mumbled embarrassed.

Hawke felt Caitlin's lips curving under his and turned to the door where his brother was beginning to back out awkwardly. He grinned at Saint John's expression. 'You're OK, Saint John. Just catching up with my wife and my son.' He didn't remove his hand.

Caitlin rolled her eyes at him but smiled welcomingly at Saint John. He came into the room and closed the door behind him.

'Son?' Saint John asked. 'You had the scan?'

'Yes, I had the scan but I asked them not to tell me. Your brother just woke up convinced we're having a boy.' Caitlin shifted her weight and Hawke glanced at her concerned.

'You should get more comfortable.' He reluctantly let go of her and she reached for the chair beside the bed gratefully. Saint John sprung into action to assist her, lifting it closer so she would be right next to the bed and able to slip her hand into Hawke's.

'So what's the plan?' Caitlin asked her brother-in-law as he took a seat on the opposite side of the bed. 'Are you going to be able to stay a while?'

'A couple of days.' Saint John said. 'We're between missions.'

'You get the problem with the targeting systems sorted out?' She asked.

Saint John nodded. 'Your suggestion worked perfectly.'

As his brother began to ask about details to do with Caitlin's health and the baby, Hawke began to realise that Saint John had stayed in touch with Caitlin for more than just the odd phone call about Airwolf. He frowned at the teasing tone in Saint John's voice when he asked Caitlin if she was still craving ice-cream. A wave of irrational jealousy swept over him.

'You're craving ice-cream huh?' Hawke rubbed Caitlin's fingers and drew her attention.

'Chocolate.' She admitted ruefully. 'I seem to be eating a bowl of it every time your brother calls.'

'Really.' Hawke said.

Saint John heard the edge in his brother's voice. 'Why don't I give you guys some time together?' He said smoothly getting to his feet.

Caitlin waved him back into his chair as she rose. 'You stay. I have to go sort some things out.' She gestured vaguely before she leaned down and kissed her husband.

Hawke's blue eyes watched her skirt the bed. They narrowed as she laid a hand on Saint John's shoulder on her way out.

Saint John smiled at Caitlin and watched her leave the room. His sister-in-law was one hell of a woman. He brought his gaze back to Hawke and found himself pinned by a searing blue stare.

'It sounds like you've been keeping in touch with her a little more than with the odd sneaked phone call.' Hawke noted.

Saint John looked at him surprised at the tone of his brother's voice. He gave a small laugh as he realised what Hawke was thinking. 'You can't be serious.'

Hawke raised an eyebrow.

'You are serious.' Saint John realised when the intensity of the glare didn't diminish. 'String, you have to know she would never…'

'I know that.' Hawke stated. 'I trust Caitlin.'

Saint John felt his own anger stirring. 'You don't trust me.'

'I don't know you.' Hawke blurted out.

The air abruptly thickened with tension as the two brothers stared at each other.

Saint John sighed and shifted to lean forward, his hands clasped in front of him. 'I know this is my fault, String.'

Hawke shifted in the bed and rested his head on the stacked pillows behind him, breaking the eye contact with his brother. 'Is it?' He met Saint John's eyes again. 'I left you.'

Saint John sprang to his feet and moved to sit on the bed beside his younger brother. He took one of Hawke's hands in his. 'You had to leave, String. I knew that.'

'If you blame me…I can understand it, Saint John.' Hawke sighed. 'I've kinda been expecting it since I ran into Mace and he tried to blow me out of the sky.'

Saint John blinked. Mace Taggert had been close to them in 'Nam. He sighed. 'I can't say I never blamed you, String. There were moments in the camp…but I always knew you did the right thing.' He squeezed his brother's hand. 'I guess we know now why brothers weren't meant to serve in the same unit, huh?'

Hawke looked down at their clasped hands. 'If you didn't blame me, why didn't you come back or call?'

'You think that's why I stayed away? Because I blamed you?' Saint John was incredulous.

'What else am I meant to think?' Hawke muttered defensively.

Saint John straightened his shoulders and held Hawke's unhappy blue eyes. 'I tried to contact you. I left you the letter…'

'It was a goodbye letter, Saint John,' Hawke broke in angrily, 'and I didn't get that until I opened your footlocker last year.'

'I wasn't to know you wouldn't open the footlocker for years, String.' Saint John shot back, his voice rising.

'I thought you were MIA.' Hawke retorted furiously. 'It was your footlocker. I didn't want to open it. I wanted to find you and bring you home so you could open it.'

Saint John had no reply. He wrenched his hand from his brother and stormed to the window to glare unseeingly at the beautiful scenery outside.

Hawke felt his heart pounding. He couldn't remember them ever really arguing before. He'd known the hurt inside him had been growing ever since he'd found out that Saint John had been rescued from the Vietcong and joined another army unit; that his brother had survived the war and continued his life without contacting him. But he was shocked at the depth of the anger he felt, the way it reached his bones and made him shake. He deliberately took a deep breath.

'You could have called.' Hawke said, happy that he'd managed to lower the volume of his voice even if the tone remained accusatory. 'Any time in the last sixteen years, you could have picked up the phone and told me you were OK. Dom never moved, Saint John. He kept the same apartment, same telephone number just in case.'

Saint John's head bowed. He'd loved the old man who'd raised them; he'd grieved at the news of his death. 'I know.' He shoved his hands deep in his jeans pockets and spun back to his brother. 'Don't you think I know that?'

The grief in Saint John's voice, in his eyes stopped the harsh words Hawke had been about to utter. He took another breath. 'Why?' He asked plaintively. 'Why did you never call, write, something just to let us know you were still alive?'

Saint John sighed and walked back to the chair Caitlin had occupied. He sat back down. 'I don't know, String. It's complicated.'

'Talk to me.' Hawke demanded.

'At first…' Saint John shrugged, 'the unit I joined was tight. They were really strict on anyone communicating beyond the team. I barely got permission to write you that letter. When I was still with the army, it never seemed possible.'

'And later when you left?' Hawke pressed.

'I was waiting till I got some vacation to visit.' Saint John said. 'We hadn't spoken in years and I didn't just want to call you but then I got a mission, and another. I was deep undercover, String. There was just no way I could risk calling you.'

'There must have been times when you weren't undercover.'

'Sure.' Saint John nodded. 'I can't remember how many times I've picked up the phone and put it back down; started a letter and stopped.' He shook his head. 'It just didn't seem to be the right time, the right moment.' He sighed. 'Truth is, String, that I've done some thinking since I came home and I think the reason why I didn't call was because I liked the freedom.'

'What do you mean?' Hawke's brow creased.

'After Mom and Dad died, I had to be the responsible one, String.' Saint John held a finger up to stop him from arguing. 'I was the older brother and I was meant to take care of you. Hell, the army even expected it. I remember Colonel Vidor once telling me to watch your six because you were the one pilot we couldn't lose.' He shook his head at the memory. 'And I never minded. We were a team.' He took a breath. 'But when I got captured, I'd had two and a half years of being on my own and when I got offered a place with the unit that rescued me, I figured it was a good thing that we wouldn't be in the same unit. No more chances for either of us to feel responsible for the other one.'

Hawke sighed. 'So what you meant is that you liked not having to be responsible for me anymore.'

Saint John nodded. 'I think I've been running scared of losing that sense of freedom, of losing my independence.' He reached forward and clasped Hawke's hands. 'But if I'd had any idea you thought I was still MIA, I would have picked up the phone in a heartbeat. I just can't tell you how sorry I am how things went down.'

'I get it.' Hawke said. 'I do, Saint John.' He confirmed when his brother looked at him with disbelief. 'Hell, I even understand a little. I've kinda liked not being known just as Saint John Hawke's little brother.'

'But?'

'But you stayed away so long.' Hawke's voice was plaintive.

'I know, I know.' Saint John admitted. 'You have every right to be angry…'

'I am angry.' Hawke said. 'More than a little. Dammit, Saint John, the only reason you're here is because I was your last resort getting away from Buchard.'

Saint John flushed. 'But I am back now and I'm not planning to go away again.'

'And I'm pleased, I really am.' Hawke said. 'But we can't pretend the last sixteen years haven't happened.'

Saint John sighed. 'It's going to take time for us to get past this.'

'Yeah.' Hawke's lips twitched as he remembered Caitlin's words earlier that morning. 'So my wife tells me.'

Saint John looked at him seriously. 'About Caitlin…'

Hawke gestured with his free hand. 'I was out of order, Saint John. It's just I kinda feel guilty that I haven't been there for her for past couple of months and you have.'

'I was only ever a poor substitute, String.' Saint John smile widened. 'She's treated me like family and that's meant a lot to me but all she's really wanted the whole time was you.'

'She loves me.' Hawke said smugly.

'Yeah, for some strange reason she really does,' Saint John said, 'and despite the evidence to the contrary, little brother, so do I.'

Hawke reached forward and they hugged tightly.

Their frank conversation came back to Hawke a few mornings later when an almost overwhelming sense of relief flooded him as he and Caitlin watched Saint John get in a cab and head back to the airport. They waved to the disappearing car until it was out of sight. Hawke slipped his hand into Caitlin's and breathed in the fresh air, turned his face up to the sun. He halted the nurse who stepped up to wheel the chair he was sat in back into the clinic.

'Could you just give us ten minutes?' He asked. He found it amusing that the nurse checked first with Caitlin.

'Maybe you could wheel him over there and I can sit on the bench?' Caitlin asked.

The nurse nodded and followed her instructions before going back inside. Caitlin lowered herself onto the bench next to him and when she was comfortable Hawke reached for her hand again.

'This is nice, huh?' Hawke's eyes drank in the blue skies and lush green grounds of the clinic. He could see a lake in the distance and his heart gave a skip. He missed his home; he missed his dog and his cello; the call of the eagle…

'Are you sure you're warm enough?' Caitlin asked worriedly. Hawke was bundled up with a warm coat and blankets over his pyjamas but the air was crisp and she could feel a chill through her own clothes.

'I'm good.' Hawke reassured her. 'It's just great to be outside.'

'Feeling cooped up?' Caitlin asked.

'A little.' He admitted; it had gotten worse when the doctor told him that he had at least another couple of months of recovery. It had been a shock but he'd made a start; his physio to rebuild his muscles and strengthen his injured back was going well, he was off the monitors and drips completely, and he'd refused the shrink they'd offered him despite the nightmares that plagued him about Dom's death. It was going to take time but he was on his way. In fact, the same could be said for his relationship with Saint John – it would take time to recover the past closeness they had shared but they were on their way.

'What's going on inside that head of yours?' Caitlin asked curious at the emotions she could see flitting almost invisibly through his blue eyes.

He kissed her hand. 'I was thinking about me and Saint John.'

'You two seem to be working it out.' Caitlin commented. She wasn't oblivious to the remaining tension between the brothers but she could see they were both making an effort to get to know each other again and move past what had happened.

'We are,' Hawke smiled at her, 'although…'

'What?'

'I'm kinda relieved he's gone back to the States,' Hawke admitted, 'and I have you to myself.'

'Hawke,' Caitlin turned to face him fully, 'you know I kinda got the impression the other morning that you were…'

'Jealous?' Hawke suggested. His eyes were rueful and he gave her a bashful smile. 'I was. I just hated the fact that he knew about your craving for ice-cream and I didn't.' He shook his head. 'Silly, huh?'

'No.' She disagreed with an understanding smile. 'I'd hate it if my sister knew something about you that I didn't.'

Hawke interlinked their fingers. 'Did he talk to you about why he stayed away?'

Caitlin shifted position on the bench. 'Some.'

'I think I get why he did it.' Hawke said.

'You do?'

'Yeah.' Hawke rubbed her cold fingers; they'd have to head back in soon. 'Saint John was always the responsible one because he was the oldest so being free of that must have been seductive. He must have feared losing that independence a lot.' He sighed. 'I know being free of having him watch over my shoulder all the time was pretty great.'

'But that didn't stop you looking for him.' Caitlin pointed out.

'To be honest, Cait, I think I was so focused on getting him back so I could feel better about leaving him in the jungle in the first place that I never actually considered what it would be like when he was.'

'And how is it?' Caitlin prompted gently.

'Tough.' Hawke smiled to lessen the impact of the harsh word. 'I've gotten used to operating without an older brother. Like with the ice-cream, I'm grateful that he was watching out for you but it feels like…like…'

'Like he was taking over?' Caitlin commiserated.

'Yeah.' Hawke sighed. It was a large part of why he was relieved Saint John had gone home. He shifted in the chair. 'You were right; it's going to take time.'

'At least you have that now.' Caitlin pointed out. 'I don't think he's going to forget to call anytime soon.'

Hawke smiled at her. 'Come on. Let's get back in.'