CHAPTER 19
Marella tried once again still but had no luck in radioing Airwolf, a silent reply all she received.
Swallowing back the lump in her throat, Caitlin brushed the tears away and did her best to look semi composed. "I'm going to take the Long Ranger to see how bad it looks," she stated, no question or uncertainty in her voice. It was simply something she had to do.
The others nodded in complete understanding. "I'll come too," Dom suggested. It was something that had to be done as a kind of final act, and if there was a body left to be buried, it at least deserved a proper burial.
Michael retained a respectable distance despite his own loss. Hawke was more like a friend than just another agent, and he didn't like loosing even them.
"I'll call for an air ambulance," Marella said.
But what if there wasn't anything to pick up?
Fighting back a wave of sorrow that threatened to overcome her, Caitlin climbed into the FIRM helicopter, sliding on the headset in silence and Dom slide in somberly beside her and pulled the door shut.
"He's alive," he told her. "I'm not sure how he could ever survive, but he made it."
She formed a grateful half smile through her tears, praying he was right.
The rotors circled slowly, as if having as difficult a time getting moving as they were. After an eternity they finally got the needed lift and took to the air, on their way to find out what was come of their beloved Stringfellow Hawke.
Dense smoke formed a dark haze making it difficult to see much less fly towards the crash sight. It seemed the beautiful and promising day had suddenly turned into a dark pit of despair, making it impossible to share and kind of help or comfort to each other because they were each drowning in their own sorrow and regret.
At the center of the pit was what appeared to be burning remain of wreckage and shrapnel, smoke too thick to fly through rising from it.
"Better land here and go in the rest of the way by foot," Caitlin said shakily.
Dom agreed, gently taking the controls from her and landing amongst the rubble.
Coughing harshly upon breathing in the smoke-filled air, Dom and Cait carefully made their way down to the burning pit.
\A/
There was clawing outside the door, desperation, trying to get in. Friend of foe? Probably nothing more than imagination, flames licking at the hatch, searching for a way in. It didn't matter anyway. He couldn't do anything about it one way or another, couldn't even move. Whether he didn't have the strength to or physically something was wrong with him, he didn't know.
What he felt was far worse than pain; it was vulnerability, helplessness. He couldn't do anything. The last two days had more than taken its toll, the fighting was over though. Whatever happened happened and he would have to live with it, assuming he lasted long enough to be rescued.
\A/
"There!" Caitlin pointed ahead excitedly, hope flooding through her. Dom was right, he was alive, he just had to be.
Scrambling over the scattered debris of what used to be and old shed, she clawed towards the semi buried helicopter, desperately forcing her way past the wreckage.
Grasping the door handle and wrenching it open. She saw his prone form, crumpled unceremoniously on the right seat, unmoving, bloodied, and bruised, obviously pinned down underneath the weight of the few loose articles from the back that had been thrown forward into the front of the cockpit.
"String!" she gaped, horrorstricken, climbing across the other seat and shoving the debris aside to get to him. "String, are you alright?"
Airwolf would require plenty of repairs before she was airworthy again, but he had managed to get her down in more or less one piece. Hawke, on the other hand, she wasn't so sure still was.
As Dom caught up, he found where Caitlin had climbed through and standing at the narrow entryway he saw her cradling his lifeless body, tears streaming down her cheeks. If she even noticed he was there, she made no move to show it. Her long fingers tangled through his blood matted short brown hair, brushing the stray strands away from his face. "I never really thought about how much you mean to me," she sobbed. "Even if just as a big brother sometimes… You Dom and Le have been more like a family to me than anything else. You never left, never quite, and don't you even think about leaving me now, Stringfellow Hawke. You hear me? Don't even think about it. I want you, need you. Otherwise who would bail me out when I get into trouble? You know someone has to. Marella will have the medivac helicopter here in no time; just hang on a little longer."
\A/
With Apollo and Maria now in custody, Michael and Marella came to join Dom and Cait at the hospital, the anxious group easily spotted as soon as they walked in.
"Any news yet?"
Dom shook his head gravely. "By the time we had gotten here he had already been taken to surgery. He did loose a lot of blood - there's still the whole getting shot thing in Russia, getting in a couple good fights, and a rather rough landing in Airwolf."
"They said he would need a blood transfusion, surgery, and lots painkillers and rest at the least," Caitlin supplied.
"At the least? What about it it's not the least?" Michael asked, friend to friend rather than deputy director. With Hawke, it was often all or nothing, and with a "landing" like that it couldn't be good.
"At worst he could die or be paralyzed for life."
The whole group suddenly went quiet, realizing the gravity of the issue. The possibility was there whether they wanted to consider it or not. Back in Russia he hadn't been at the top of his game, then he insisted on flying back himself. Since then things had only gotten worse, and he had ended his perilous venture with a fight in the cockpit and emptying out all the remaining armament in a last ditch effort to avoid plowing straight into the ground. Who knew if he was even conscience by the time he hit? And the way he had been so lifelessly hung over the stick and instrument panel sure hadn't been any positive indication of what the future would have in store for him.
"Excuse me, miss," the nurse apologized, "but we need to get through."
Caitlin nodded, having forgotten they were still standing in the middle of the hallway, and moved out of the way as the two nurses accompanied by a doctor wheeled the gurney down the corridor.
"Momma mia. Please tell me that's not who I know it is," Dom muttered.
Hawke no longer donned the blood soaked grey flight suit that probably had to be cut off of him, not that it would have been salvageable anyway, but he still looked no better. The thin hospital gown revealed more bruises and cuts, and more reasons to worry.
\A/
Caitlin's Apartment
2:11 am
His shallow breathing scared her, but he would be okay, he had to be. Around them, the flames clawed at them, nearing with every minute, time running out.
"C-cait," he called out in a harsh rasping whisper. "You've got to."
"I'm not leaving you," she returned defiantly, "not after what we've both been through."
"Cait…no time…"
One hand caressed his short cropped fringe and the other pressing firmly against the wound to help slow the bleeding, she promised him it would be alright, that somehow it would all work out even as the fire fingered its way towards them. He was only in this predicament to save her and there was no way she was going to let him die because of it, he just couldn't.
"Take care of Le… please," he pleaded.
"Hawke, you're not leaving me. You're not."
"C-cait," he murmured, drawing her closer. "I love you, Cait," he whispered, uttering words she had longed to hear from him longer than she would admit, but hoped to be hearing many more times, his lips against hers, he drew in a final deep breath.
"String!"
The only answer she received was a dead silence.
"Hawke no! No you can't!"
Furiously trying to rid herself of the awful nightmare, Caitlin O'Shaunessey threw off her covers, sliding out of bed and pulled her robe around her, disappearing off into the kitchen. Hawke wasn't dead and he was going to be, she told herself over and over again. He was at the hospital where he could be treated and taken care of… but the terrible memories crossed with dream stubbornly refused to dissipate. And she couldn't help but wonder, what if things didn't turn out for the better?