"Dom?"
Stringfellow Hawke regarded Dominic Santini with wide, startled blue eyes as the older man stood over him, firmly taking his hand in his own, to give it a loving, reassuring squeeze as he leaned in to press warm, dry lips to his rough cheek.
Hawke couldn't believe his eyes.
It was Dominic.
It really was Dominic.
Not some look-a-like, or some fraud, enemy forces were trying to make him believe was Dominic. Had brainwashed him into believing was Dominic.
It really was him.
Same old pants that were a little too small in the waist and needed hitching up around his rotund belly, same battered red silk baseball cap, same short cropped iron grey hair and rheumy grey/blue eyes.
That same, dear, beloved face.
Same happy, loving smile.
Hawke's confusion only deepened.
This wasn't what he had expected.
Not what he had expected at all.
Overcome by a wave of emotion and relief, Hawke found himself wrapping his arms around Dominic Santini's strong, solid, upper body and hugging him fiercely, unexpected tears filling his eyes, as he held on tightly to the older man and gulped down the lump that had suddenly risen in his throat.
No. Not what he had expected, but a familiar face nonetheless.
The anchor he needed.
He closed his eyes and held on tightly.
Praying that when he opened his eyes once more the world he found himself looking upon would be familiar once again.
"Hey, hey," Dominic spoke in a soft, soothing voice, feeling tears well up in his own eyes, returning the young man's hug with equal pressure and intensity. "I'm pleased to see you too, son," his voice was low and ragged with emotion.
When the embrace lingered on, Dominic reluctantly and carefully disentangled himself from the young man's embrace, drawing back just a little to get a good look at him, but keeping a firm but gentle hold on his beloved son's hand as he smiled down at him.
Hawke was touched to see tears glistening in the older man's eyes too as he knuckled away the moisture from his own cheeks now.
The smile became rueful.
"Not that I'm complaining, mind, but, don't you think that's the kind of greeting you should have given your wife, son?"
Dominic watched the look of relief and affection slide from his son's face, to be replaced by regret and confusion and disappointment.
Hawke hadn't expected that the first words that Dominic would utter to him would end with a reprimand.
A mild one by his usual standards, but, a reprimand, all the same.
Hawke's heart sank.
So, whatever the hell was going on here, Dominic was in on it too.
Hawke found it hard to believe.
He could see no benefit in Dominic going along with this charade.
He let out a deep sigh as Dominic perched himself on the edge of the bed and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
"Doc Coleman says you're gonna be just fine," Dominic told him gently. "He also says you have a little problem with your memory."
"A little problem!" Hawke scoffed then and Santini recognised the look he gave him.
The Santini Special he called it.
That particular scowl the boy had been using on him since he was a kid, when he was uncomfortable with something, or didn't want to talk about something.
It hadn't worked then, and it didn't work now.
"Yeah, more holes in it than Swiss cheese," Dominic Santini grinned then. His own brand of humour had always counteracted the younger man's tendency to be far too serious and to bottle things up and keep his thoughts to himself.
"I'll say," Hawke smiled softly, then sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment. "Not holes exactly," he grew serious then.
"Yeah, the doc said. He also said you shouldn't worry about it too much. You're bound to be a little confused and disorientated for a few days."
"That has to be the understatement of the decade, Dom!"
Hawke was surprised to see a frown pulling Dominic's brow down, and just for the briefest instant, he saw hurt flash through the older man's blue/grey eyes.
"Dom?"
"You haven't called me that since you were ten years old, kid," this made Hawke frown now. "It's been, Dad, since the day we walked out of that judge's office. The day Maria and I adopted you and St John and Sky," Dominic's voice trailed off then as he noticed the look of anger and bafflement on the younger man's face.
"You don't remember that?" Hawke shook his head gently.
"Who's Maria?"
"My wife. Your adopted mother."
Dominic's voice suddenly caught in his throat and he let go of Hawke's hand as he rose quickly from the bed and turned away from Hawke, and the younger man watched with confusion and sorrow as the older man's head bowed, shoulders heaving as silent sobs suddenly consumed him, briefly.
He pulled himself together quickly and turned back to look at Hawke with red rimmed eyes filled with pain.
"Sorry, son," he heaved a heavy sigh and came back to resume his perch on the side of the bed, as the younger man watched him with undisguised curiosity.
"I just came from putting fresh flowers on her grave. She passed away five years ago today," he reminded gently. "That's why I wasn't here earlier," he explained. "I wanted to tell her that you were awake …. That she doesn't have to worry any more …. That you were ok."
"I'm sorry, Dom," Hawke didn't know what else to say.
He could hardly show grief over the death of a woman that he had never known.
"It's dumb, I know. I know she can't hear me, but I still like to tell her everything that's been going on. About you and Skyler and Helen and the kids," Dominic explained with a look of embarrassment.
"I still miss her, so much," he confessed and Hawke could not deny the look of genuine sorrow and grief that settled on his old friend's familiar face.
"We were together for a lot of years," he hung his head briefly, to draw in another deep breath, then looked up to regard the younger man with eyes filled with a mixture of love and sorrow, utter relief and a little disappointment.
"You really don't remember her?"
Hawke shook his head gently, regretfully, not wanting to hurt the older man, but not inclined to lie either.
He had never been a hypocrite.
Not even to spare Dominic Santini's feelings.
He wasn't going to start now.
"Damn," Santini lowered his head for a moment, and when he looked up again, his face was pale and his eyes filled with sorrow. "The doc, said. He told me something of what you told him. But, I thought, maybe, when you saw me?"
"Me too," Hawke confided.
"I don't understand. You obviously remember me."
"Yes," Hawke confirmed with a gentle smile.
"But everything else is?"
"Most of what I've been told so far. which, granted, isn't much, but, most of what I've been told is," Hawke paused for a moment, struggling to find the right words. "Different."
"Different?"
"Doesn't relate to me."
"Helen? The kids?" Dominic asked hopefully.
Hawke shook his head sadly.
"Oh, kid," Dominic let out another heavy sigh. "I can't imagine how you must be feeling. All of this must seem so, unreal. Fantastic. Unbelievable."
"Tell me about it," Hawke smiled ruefully. He had known that Dominic would understand. "But I guess it has to be just as hard on you. And her."
"Helen. Your wife's name is Helen," Dominic sighed deeply and gave the younger man a pained look.
"Helen." Hawke conceded.
"Yes, she's upset," Dominic confirmed. "She's naturally confused and hurt. But, she's trying to understand."
The look that settled on Dominic's face told Hawke a great deal about the way the older man felt about the young woman who was his daughter in law.
Hawke could see a great deal of love and respect and affection shining in the older man's blue/grey eyes, a comfortable familiarity that spoke of years of love and trust and mutual respect and friendship between the two.
Dominic Santini knew this woman, had known her for a long time, and he cared a great deal for her.
"She's been here, every day for the last four months, String, and every day for six weeks before that at the hospital in the city. Holding your hand, talking to you, willing you to open your eyes, worrying herself crazy and trying to keep it together, being strong for my sake and the kids. Trying to keep things as normal as possible, and suddenly, you're awake, all our prayers are answered, the burden of worry lifted, and finally she allows herself to relax a little, to let her guard down. To believe that things will be all right. That you will live. You will be ok. That she will get back the man that she loves more than life, and that things will go back to the way that they were before. She allowed herself to begin to believe that the future might be brighter, only when she gets here, you don't recognise her and, all of this while she's getting ready to have a baby."
"You really don't remember her either?" Santini regarded his young companion hopefully, but Stringfellow Hawke shook his head gently, and regretfully. "Oh well, you fell in love with her the first time around. You'll fall in love with her again. What's not to love?"
Santini assured, patting the young man's hand reassuringly, then he made a sour face, which made Hawke frown.
"Oh boy! Please, please spare me from the agony of having to go through all that again!" Santini groaned expressively.
"All what again?"
"Having to watch you fall in love all over again. The last time was bad enough! Oy, Maria and I thought we would have a nervous breakdown before it was done!" Santini chuckled at the memory. "On again, off again. Should you, shouldn't you? She loves me, she hates me, she loves me!" He chortled. "It was like being on a roller coaster. Every body but you and Helen knew how you two felt for each other, but you two, stubborn, short sighted as hell. Promise me you won't make me, or her, go through that again?"
"I can't promise you anything, Dom."
"Gee, its gonna be hard getting used to you calling me that again, after all these years," Santini sighed sadly. "But," he grew thoughtful for a moment and his expression softened, as he looked a little more closely into the familiar features of his beloved son. "I wonder why it's only me you remember?"
"I don't know," Hawke sighed deeply and hung his head briefly.
"So? Can you tell me about this other life? Doc Coleman said there were some similarities in what you remember. Mainly in the past. The cabin up at Eagle Lake? That dopey old tick hound, Tet? Fancy you remembering him all these years on. He also said that the rest of what you remember is very, different."
"Yeah, Dom. I don't know what good it will do, going over it again."
"It might help me to understand where you're coming from. Hell, I might even remember some things that might jog your memory," Santini coaxed. "It can't hurt. Maybe there's stuff you didn't mention to the doc that you could talk to me about? We've always been able to talk, son. Always. About anything, and everything. Just because you don't remember it, doesn't make me any less of a father to you than I was yesterday, before you woke up."
Dominic Santini's expression was filled with such love and affection and joy, Hawke knew that he was speaking the truth, and he could not help feeling both touched by it, and bad, that he didn't feel the same way in return.
He loved the old guy.
Sure he did.
But he had never really thought of him as being a real father to him.
Drinking buddy, workmate.
Friend.
Confident.
Always someone he could rely on to keep his feet planted firmly on the ground, and to back him up in a scrap.
A friendly ear to bend and an understanding shoulder to cry on.
But, not as a real father.
There was a fine line that he and the Dominic Santini he remembered had drawn in their relationship, the boundary over which neither one of them felt able to step.
The limitations which the young Hawke had set, in just how much he was prepared to allow Dominic Santini into his life.
Dominic wasn't his father.
He was a loving and trustworthy friend and guardian, but the privileges of fatherhood remained with and always would remain, with the man that the young Stringfellow Hawke would always call Dad.
His natural father, Steven Hawke.
His Dominic Santini understood that, not wanting to encroach.
Had understood that the young Stringfellow Hawke's natural inclination was to turn to his older brother, St John, for guidance, and support and strength.
But, it hadn't stopped him from offering fatherly advice and affection over the years.
They were both comfortable with their relationship as it was today.
Each knew just how far they could go with the other.
And it worked.
Hawke didn't know how he would deal with their relationship on a father/son type footing.
He didn't feel comfortable with it.
Yet, he had no desire to hurt or alienate Dominic Santini.
He was the one real thing he could still count on right now.
"What do you remember, son?" Santini prompted now.
And so, taking a deep, calming breath, Stringfellow Hawke recounted all that he knew to be true about his life, while Dominic Santini sat quietly on the bed beside him, arms folded across his broad chest, nodding occasionally in response to some detail or another, but making no comment, allowing instead, for the younger man to tell him, everything.
In his own way, in his own time.
Well, almost everything.
Hawke decided to withhold a certain detail, feeling sure that his life in this incarnation would certainly have no place in it for Airwolf.
And if this was some elaborate ruse ….
Just one huge con ….
Maybe revealing that he remembered his involvement with the Firm, and Airwolf would be just what they, whoever they were, wanted.
Maybe that was just what they were waiting for?
Call him paranoid, he thought sarcastically to himself, but he still hadn't discounted the fact that the room could be bugged.
That he could be being watched all the time.
He couldn't afford to let his guard down.
Not until he was sure.
Not until it was proven to him beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was the man that these people claimed him to be, and not the man he remembered.
"Wow," Santini commented at last, after Hawke had finished speaking and sat watching for his reaction for several minutes, in silence. "That is different! But, thanks for telling me. I can understand a little better now how completely lost and bemused you must be feeling."
"Yeah," Hawke agreed wryly.
"I still don't understand how you can remember all that stuff so differently to how I remember it. Take your folks, for instance? If you don't find i, too painful, to talk about?"
Hawke shook his head.
The rawness that he had associated with their sudden and very unexpected deaths had long ago healed, to be replaced with regret that they had been granted so little time together, a scant twelve years.
And finally, acceptance that there had been nothing that he could do to save them.
"Now, you say they died in a boating accident up there on the lake when you were twelve? But I know they died in a fire, up at the cabin."
"What happened?"
"No mains electricity up there back in those days, and there was one helluva storm suddenly blew up. The generator died, your Dad went out to check on it and in the meantime, a hurricane lantern blew over and …. The place was tinder dry. Steven made sure you and St John and Skyler were safe and then he went back to get your mother. Must have gotten trapped. Fire fighters found them, next morning, in the burned out shell of their bedroom. Holding onto each other. They didn't burn to death. They were overcome by the smoke," Santini let out a ragged sigh, vividly recalling one of the worst nights that he had had to endure in his life.
"You and Sky were eight years old and St John was just twelve. There was never any doubt that Maria and I would take you in, I'd made Steven that promise years before. If anything ever happened to him, I would look after Connie and any kids that might come along. And he did the same for me. During the war. I don't understand why you remember it differently."
"Me neither, but that is how I remember it. Being hauled out of the water by St John and being dragged to the shore. Looking back, to see the boat, and Mom and Dad gone, Sinj and I, half drowned ourselves, shocked and cold, having to walk down the mountain to try to get help. I can't ever go home without thinking about that awful day."
"And yet you say you chose to live up there?"
"Yeah. It's a beautiful place. Peaceful, tranquil. Its home. Always will be. I feel closer to them all up there. Why are you surprised I remember Tet?"
"Because, he's been dead these past twelve years or more. He was St John's dog by rights, just a pup when he shipped out to 'Nam and left you to take care of him, but when he didn't come back," he faltered for a moment, then after taking a slow breath, continued.
"When you got back from 'Nam, you needed something to occupy your mind, and you took it upon yourself to take care of that old mutt again. It was good for both of you. He had lots of energy and playfulness and you needed lots of exercise. Physical therapy, to build up your strength. They did tell you that when you got back from 'Nam, you spent months flat on your back in the hospital, and then in rehab, in a wheelchair? That the doctors believed that you would never walk again?" Hawke shook his head.
This was indeed news to him.
He had had his fair share of scratches and knocks in 'Nam, and the wound that had finally seen his tour of duty over there ended, in 1972, had been serious enough to get him a medical discharge from the Army, but he had been lucky in comparison to some of the other guys he had served with.
He had returned to his home and the people that he loved, with all of his limbs, and his mind, in tact.
"Oh, well, you took a bullet in the back. Right up close to the spine. They thought it had damaged your spinal cord and that you would never be able to walk again. Wanted to leave it there, too. Told us that if they tried to take it out they could cause more damage than just leaving it where it was. That's Army docs for you," Hawke could hear the disgust and contempt in Santini's voice now.
"We didn't accept that. No siree! Only the best for our boy. Maria and I went into hock up to our hairlines to find the best doctors we could and it took us almost two years to raise the cash, but finally we did, and the doctors went in there and fished the bullet out, and finally, when you healed and all the bruising and swelling went down, they said that you would walk, eventually, but it would be a long and painful process. See kid, you beat that. You can beat this too. Whatever it is."
"Yeah."
"Do you want to talk about St John?" Dominic asked tentatively now. "About how he …. Died?"
"Not right now."
"How about Skyler?"
"My …. Sister …." Hawke tested the word out and found that it still did not taste right on his lips.
"Your twin sister," Santini corrected with a wistful expression on his face. "Like two peas in a pod the two of you. Oh maybe not in looks, but definitely in temperament and personality!" He chuckled. "Like dynamite and matches. An explosive combination! Always fireworks with you two. Always scrapping, over something or another. Maria always chasing one or the other of you around the house with a rolling pin because of some mischief you'd cooked up between you!" he chuckled again. "She swore blind that you would either be the death of her, or end up killing each other!"
"Tell me about her."
"Maria or Sky?"
"Both. But, I guess I'm most curious about …. Maria. My Dom has been on his own, all these years. In fact, it wasn't until recently that I found out Dom had been married at all, and that he had a daughter," Hawke confided.
"His wife's name was Lila and they lived on San Remo Island," Hawke's voice trailed away as he suddenly noticed the uncomfortable expression on the older man's face.
"I was born there. And yes, Lila was my first wife," Santini explained on a deep sigh. "Biggest mistake I ever made," he confessed sadly. "Didn't last very long. Ink was barely dry on the marriage certificate and she was entertaining every other guy on the island while I busted my balls to make a living for us."
"I'm sorry."
"Did you say your Dominic had a daughter?"
"Yeah," now it was Hawke's turn to grow uncomfortable as Santini watched him expectantly.
"Sally-Anne. She died. From a drugs overdose. I don't know all the details," he added quickly. "Only that he got word that they found her on the beach. I went with my Dom to her funeral, and then, while we were there, someone murdered Lila and tried to pin it on my Dominic."
"Geez! What an exciting life you do live!""
You don't know the half of it, my friend.. Hawke thought to himself.
"It worked out ok in the end, but my Dom didn't do too well in jail. Cait was marvellous."
"Cait?"
Hawke could not mistake the look of curiosity and the note of suspicion in Santini's voice now.
"Caitlin O'Shannessy. Fiery Texan red head with Irish blood," Hawke grinned then. "Feisty little thing. Used to fly choppers for Texas Highway Patrol, until she came to work for you, my Dom, a few months back," he explained, noting that the suspicion had not gone, but had merely moved to Dominic's eyes.
"Is she your girl? In this alternate life?"
"No, nothing like that. We're work colleagues. Friends. We're like a little family."
Hawke's smile was warm and genuine when he again thought about how close the three of them had become in such a short space of time.
But there was nothing romantic between himself and Caitlin. No matter how many huge and completely unsubtle hints his Dominic dropped.
Maybe, in the beginning, there had been something.
A spark.
But, nothing had come of it.
On either side.
That didn't stop him from keeping a protective eye on her.
Just like a big brother would.
Caitlin had had a parade of gentleman admirers since arriving in Los Angeles and for what it was worth, Stringfellow Hawke was not inclined to get too deeply involved with any woman.
His life was far too complicated.
Not to mention filled with constant threat and danger.
It wasn't so much that he didn't want love and romance in his life, that he didn't need those things as much as any man.
But, with his history, and all the emotional baggage that came with it, he was reluctant to open himself up to still more hurt, heartache and disappointment.
In short, he believed that he was jinxed when it came to love.
Every woman he had ever cared for had left him.
Died.
His mother.
Sarah Jane, his first serious girlfriend, who had died when their car had crashed, just before he shipped out to Vietnam.
And, more recently, Gabrielle.
The first woman in a long time that he had allowed to get close.
Without being conceited, he knew that he was quite an attractive man, and he could have as much female company as he wanted, whenever he wanted.
But his heart was too battered and abused, and he had found it easier to simply encase it in ice.
That way it was either impenetrable, or unbreakable.
He was content.
He wasn't exactly happy, but neither was he unhappy with the situation.
He liked the status quo.
It gave him a chance to concentrate on other things.
Like the Airwolf missions that he flew for Michael Coldsmith Briggs III and the Firm.
However, confronted as he was now, with the possibility that his life in this time and place, included a wife, and three children.
It was an intriguing prospect.
He had to admit, if only to himself, feeling just a little envious of Stringfellow Santini.
He was obviously a man who was much loved by his family, had managed to sustain a relationship with a woman who loved him deeply and which had produced three beautiful children.
Four, if you counted the one on the way.
All of which meant exploring relationships that Stringfellow Hawke had thought beyond his reach.
Husband.
Father.
Even that of being a real son, in an adult sense, instead of clinging to memories of childhood.
Now he might be granted a brief taste of the things that he had thought would be denied him.
"I'm not married," he gently reminded the older man, noting the hint of disapproval in the older man's features. "Nor do I have a regular girlfriend. By choice, Dom," Hawke explained, still feeling awkward about having to explain his personal circumstances. "So, tell me about Maria," he encouraged then. "How long were you together?"
"Some days it seems like forever. And then others, only five minutes," Dominic Santini sighed wistfully. "Let me see. You're what, thirty seven now?"
Santini scratched his head and Hawke could see his brain struggling to make the calculation.
"You were just a baby when we met. So, that would be …. Let me think …. Late summer, 1950. Hell, you weren't even a year old," he grinned then.
"We did some old fashioned dating for a couple of years. Had to wait for that bitch Lila to agree to a divorce before I could even think about offering Maria marriage, and then finally, after making me wait Lord knows how long for an answer, we finally tied the knot in the spring of 1953. So, let me see. We knew each other for thirty seven years and were married for twenty nine," again Hawke could see the sorrow in the older man's eyes.
"Would have been married for thirty four years, this year. She had cancer. Took her so fast none of us could believe it. A month from beginning to end. Five years ago today."
"How did you meet her?"
"I went to visit with a distant cousin of mine. Owns a small vineyard in the Napa Valley down San Francisco way. Unwritten Italian law says that everybody gotta help pick the grapes when they're ready. Just happened to be harvest time, when I was visiting, and there were lots of people around, from the neighbouring farms, all willing to help out. Maria was there, visiting with relatives of her Father, and she was helping her Mamma with the food for all those hungry mouths. Let me tell ya, she was the most beautiful thing on two legs I ever saw …. And laugh! We could laugh at just about anything. So full of life. She loved to dance and sing. Oh she could cry too. Weep more salt water than the Pacific," he smiled gently then.
"She was a wonderful woman, String. Everything that a man could desire in a woman, and I still don't understand what it was that she saw in me. But, she loved me. She made me very happy for a lot of years, and I guess that's how come you decided that Helen was the one for you. That girl's a lot like Maria," he confided gently.
"You and Maria, the two of you, well, you couldn't have been any closer if she'd been your real Mamma. She called you all her babies, and she loved you all …. But, you were always her favourite, String," he paused for a moment.
"She used to say that you were the sensitive one. The other two were tough nuts and would survive nuclear fallout, but you …. You seemed to need her more than the others. You seemed to need to be loved more by her, and to love her more in return. You guys really understood each other, and liked each other."
"I would sit and watch the two of you together, and thank God that if what happened to your parents had to be, that Maria was there to be a mother to all of you children, but especially you. I guess I have to own up to having something of a soft spot for you too," his old cheeks began to suffuse with colour now.
"You were always more my boy. St John was already practically grown. More independent, and Sky being a girl, always seemed to need Maria more than me. But, you and me, we hit it off from the day you were born. From the first time Connie put you in my arms and told me that she and Steven would be honoured and proud if I would consent to become your Godfather. I always wanted a son, and when you were born and you lay there in my arms, so innocent and so trusting as you looked up into my face, I knew that you were going to be the closest to having a son of my own that I would ever get."
"You didn't have any children of your own?"
"No. Never seemed to be able to get the chemistry right. Then, suddenly we had a ready made family of three. Maria took to motherhood like a duck to water, and you kids all accepted her, because we had always been around your folks and their place. You were all used to seeing us. It was the most natural thing, that you come to us. Our brood. Maria was never happier than when she was doing something for you kids. Baking your favourite cookies, patching your torn clothes or sewing some costume for Halloween or Christmas."
"And what about Skyler?"
"Oh boy!" Dominic rolled his eyes heavenward and Stringfellow Hawke found himself frowning. "Talk about a live wire!" Santini chuckled. "Nothing but trouble from dawn till dusk that one. Rough and tumble and fistfights. A real tomboy, but I guess when she had you and St John for brothers, it kinda came with the territory."
Dominic Santini's grin was broad and genuine and filled with love as he paused to take a breath before continuing.
"You two being twins meant that you were always competing with each other over something, always trying to get someone's attention. Me, St John, Maria. Always bickering, always daring each other to do something better than the other. Guess she was just trying to be one of the boys. Trying to fit in. But, you always looked out for each other too. You two were always real close. Thick as thieves, especially as you got older. Got this psychic thing going on between you. One always knew when the other was sick or in trouble. When she had her appendix out, you came out in sympathy with her," Santini chuckled at the memory. "When she was pregnant with her first baby, you were the one who had the morning sickness, and damned if you didn't go into sympathetic labour!" He let out a loud gaffaw.
"She was thousands of miles away in Germany, and you were rolling around in agony on the living room floor. It was Maria who guessed what was happening. Never live that down, son. "
"She grew up to be a real beauty, just like Connie. You're not identical twins but there's no denying a resemblance, you both have the same hair colouring and eyes, the same height and physique. You both have the same fierce determination to win and to succeed. Both fearless."
Dominic Santini grew solemn then and Stringfellow Hawke watched him curiously.
"When you enlisted to go to 'Nam, Sky was right there in the line behind you, and it nearly broke Maria's heart when she was accepted by the Army and was sent away to train with the Medical Corp. You were sent away to boot camp, St John was already over there."
He paused again to take a long, deep breath, and then expelled it slowly.
"And it was Skyler who knew that you were wounded. She called me, to ask if we had heard from you. Told me straight out that she had this really bad feeling that something awful had happened to you. So, I got on the horn to an old buddy of mine in the Army to try to find out, and eventually he called me back, with the dreadful news that St John had been killed in action, and that you had been badly wounded, in the same action, and that once they had your condition stabilized they would be shipping you home, with St John's body. Sky volunteered to go over there and escort you back, but the Army refused, giving her compassionate leave to come home to us instead. Waiting for you two boys to come home was the longest two weeks of our lives."
"She sends you her love, by the way," Santini added then. "I called her to tell her that you were out of danger, but guess what? She already knew, said she'd had this weird feeling for a couple of days, thinking about you, dreaming about you. Told me that she had woken up crying in the middle of the night, and when Mat, that's her husband, when Mat asked her, what was wrong, she told him that she knew that you were going to come back to us. That she knew that you were going to be all right."
Stringfellow Hawke did not know what to say, so he wisely kept silent and watched the older man smile ruefully.
"It's good to have you back, son," Dominic Santini patted his hand affectionately once more. "You kept us waiting long enough," he let out a ragged sigh then. "I hope your dreams were pleasant."
"I don't remember having any dreams."
"Good. Wouldn't want those awful nightmare, of 'Nam to come back."
"No." Hawke agreed.
There were times when he was still plagued with nightmares. Mostly about having to leave St John behind, all those years ago.
Despite the fact that he could not have done anything any differently.
"You get them too?"
"Now and again."
"So? Should I tell you a little about Helen?" Santini wisely changed the subject.
"Why not."
"Look son, if you'd rather not, if you'd rather find out about her for yourself, I understand." Santini grew unexpectedly coy then.
"No, Dom. You'd better tell me something. I wouldn't want to upset her, unnecessarily. Next time we meet."
"What did you think? When you saw her? Beautiful, isn't she?" Dominic Santini's smile was warm and genuine and full of love and pride. "And she's a wonderful wife and mother. Look son, maybe you should just find out for yourself," Santini's expression grew solemn then.
"Whatever I say will just be words. Like all the rest of it. I know none of it has meant anything to you. Just words. You haven't felt any of it, I can tell. "
"I'm sorry, Dom," Hawke knew that the older man was right.
No matter how much feeling Dominic put into it, it meant nothing to him on an emotional level.
The people he had talked about were still strangers to him.
The life he had described belonged to another man.
"So talk to her. Ask her about how you met and how you fell in love. She knows those things better than me. You never know, it might help to jog your memory, and if not, well, it might just help start the process of falling in love with her all over again."
"Dom."
"She's your wife, String. I've never interfered in your relationship with Helen, and I won't start now. Remember it or not, she's your wife, and you can't ignore the fact. You made certain promises, certain commitments when you went into this marriage, String, and I know that the boy I have raised as my son wouldn't walk away from those commitments," Santini pinned him with a meaningful look then.
"The man we all know, and love, loves that woman and those children with all his heart and soul. Lord knows he endured more than his fair share of heart ache and heartbreak before he finally found her, and learned to accept that he was just as loveable as any other man, and that he deserved to be loved just as much as any other man. And believe me, son, you are loved. No man on this earth could be loved more, by Helen and those children. You owe it to yourself to find out all over again how it feels to be that well loved. You might learn something."
"Dom, I …."
"Ok. Enough already. I've maybe said to much already. Doc Coleman told me that you should be trying to remember all of this stuff by yourself. I just hope that what I have told you will help to get the ball rolling."
"Thanks, Dom. There's just one more thing."
"What's that, son?"
"What put me here?"
"What did the doc tell you?"
Santini grew cautious now and Hawke deduced that he had been told not to touch too deeply on the cause of the coma that had put his son in the hospital.
"Just that I was in a plane crash."
"That's right."
"Dom, there has to be more to it than that."
"Son , I can't," Santini looked genuinely uncomfortable now.
"Can't, or won't?"
"Can't. The FAA are going to be all over you like a rash when they hear that you're awake. You have to tell them what you remember, not what you've been told, by other people."
"The FAA?"
"Air Crash Investigation Team. They were at the hospital in LA, at the very beginning, but when it became clear that you were not going to wake up any time soon."
"What the hell happened, Dominic? Level with me. You're the only one I can trust who will," Hawke glared at Santini, but despite the look, the older man refused to impart any more information.
"Oh God, Dom …. What did I do? Did I kill a lot of people?" Hawke's heart suddenly came up into the back of his throat as he realised that something very serious had transpired to put him in the hospital.
"No, Son. Nothing like that," Santini reassured him quickly now, giving his hand a firm squeeze. "Quite the opposite, in fact. Thanks to you, over two hundred people walked away from that crash. Because of your courage and endurance and determination."
"Please, Dom. You have to tell me."
"All right son."
Santini let out a deep sigh, noting the confusion and alarm in the younger man's deep blue eyes, and he knew that he could not leave him to stew on only that small piece of information.
"You were the Captain of a jet airliner, on route from Japan to Los Angeles. Two hundred and five souls aboard including crew. Somewhere over the Pacific, a freak storm blew up out of nowhere and the plane was hit by lightning. You lost one engine straight away and recurring fire in the others meant that you had to nurse her all the way back to LAX. Your landing gear wouldn't engage and it became clear that you couldn't land on the runway. You overshot and nursed her out over the city and finally came down in the desert. Thus saving hundreds of lives on the ground, too. There was one death, your co-pilot, and several serious injuries, yourself included. But, more than two hundred other souls walked away with nothing more than scratches and bruises. More than two hundred people, who owe you their lives. The papers called you a hero. Those of us who love you and know you, always knew you were a hero, son."
"Maybe I just got lucky," Hawke looked away then, unable to take credit for something he knew that he had not done.
"Don't you worry about the FAA thing. It's routine. But, you were the senior pilot and they have to have your version of events for their report."
"I can't tell them anything, Dom. How can I? I wasn't there."
"Don't tell them that, son, else they'll be sending in the headshrinkers!" Dominic tried to make a joke of it, but there was still anxiety and uncertainty in his eyes. "Better you tell them you just don't remember. It's not a lie, exactly. They're not looking to blame anyone, String. They have already determined the cause of the accident, and you were completely exonerated," Santini assured then. "They just have to hear from you what happened. For the record. If you can't remember, you can't remember," he let out a soft sigh then and slipped carefully off the bed.
"An airliner?"
"Yeah. You're the company's chief pilot, son. Have been, these last four years. You worked damned hard to get there, String, and we are all so proud of your achievement."
"I fly helicopters and small aircraft, Dom, not passenger jets."
"Son, you can fly just about anything. If they put engines on orange crates you'd get 'em off the ground and safely back down again," Santini chuckled.
"It's what you did after the Army. Test pilot, for various manufacturers. You were the best in the business. Best damned test pilot outside of the Military and NASA. Scared me, and Maria out of our wits especially after all you went through to walk again after 'Nam, but you thrived on it. Got a reputation for being the best. It wasn't that you took risks or were a dare devil. You just seemed to have a feel for it. You are a natural born flier. Knew it the first time I took you up there when you were nine. You loved it. Fearless. But, then you met up with Helen again, and when you two started to get serious, you decided to take a different direction, and so you joined the airline and worked your way up through the ranks to senior pilot."
"I did some testing too," amongst other things, Hawke thought silently to himself, including working as a mercenary, so that he could find out more about what had happened to St John.
It wasn't something that he was proud of, but he had done anything and everything that he had had to do to find out the tiniest scrap of information.
"Now I fly stunts," he grinned then. "TV. Movies. Sometimes, and other times I work for the government, taking aerial photographs. Some scientific stuff. Weather observations, that kind of thing. Monitoring volcanic activity. It's a living."
"Yeah. Well, we all have to do what we have to do to earn a crust," Santini agreed.
"Guess I just love to fly. I'm happy when I'm flying. When I'm up there," Hawke sighed deeply then.
"And what makes you happy when you're not flying? When you're not up there?"
"Fishing, up at the lake. Playing my cello."
"What?" Santini choked out.
"Playing my cello. And listening to classical music."
"Oh boy," Santini chuckled. "Since when? Now that really is different. You love an altogether different kind of water sport. Surfin'! You were a real California Beach Bum in your teens. And music, well, if it didn't get released in the 60's you didn't want to know! Elvis Presley, Beach Boys, Mammas and Papas, Gene Pitney, Roy Orbison. Everything except, The Beatles. I had the only teenager in the neighbourhood who hated the Beatles," Santini rolled his eyes heavenward. "And he had the twin sister from hell, who would play 'She Loves Me Yeah Yeah Yeah' over and over until the needle stuck!"
Hawke smiled, but then found himself needing to stifle a yawn, and Santini could not help noticing that he was looking weary.
"Anyway, I'd better let you get some rest else Doc Coleman won't let me back in again. Plum forgot you've only been back with us for a few hours," he grew hesitant for a moment, and then decided to say what was on his mind.
"Look son, about Helen? The doc told her that it would be better if she and the kids stayed away. But, what do you say? You ain't gonna get to remembering her if you don't see her. Can I tell her that she can pay you a visit? Sometime soon?"
Stringfellow Hawke knew that if he were really Stringfellow Santini, what Dominic had just suggested would make sense. The sooner the couple spent time in each other's company the sooner they would break the ice and begin to get used to being around each other.
But ….
He wasn't Stringfellow Santini.
And Helen Santini was not his wife.
He had no desire to hurt her feelings.
But he also had no desire to build up her hopes that they might get back to the romantic, lovey dovey kind of relationship that Santini had hinted existed between the couple.
He couldn't give her what she needed.
He couldn't be the man that she remembered.
What if she grew to rely on him?
Besides, for his own sake, he couldn't afford to get involved with her.
What if he liked her?
What if he found her as irresistible as Stringfellow Santini obviously did?
What if ….
What if he allowed himself to have feelings for her? For the children?
He didn't know what to say.
And while he hesitated, he could see the disappointment in Dominic Santini's blue/grey eyes and knew that he had let him down.
"I guess I have my answer."
"Dom."
"I understand, son. It's a lot to take in. Maybe when you've had a couple of days to stew on it?"
"Yeah. Maybe. Will you be seeing her?"
"Yeah, she invited me over to dinner tonight. After visiting time here, but the doc said he was ordering up some more tests so, maybe we'd better leave you alone to get your rest, and to try to get your head on straight."
"What will you tell her?"
"The truth. She'll understand. She don't have to like it, but she will understand."
"Dom, I'm sorry."
"You just concentrate on getting well. The people who love you will all still love you, and be here for you when you finally do remember us."
And with that the older man leaned forward and gave Hawke a strong embrace, then hitching his pants up as he went, he walked across the room and out into the corridor beyond.
