CHAPTER 3
Caitlin and Dom stood, aghast, beholding the awful sight that befell them. The once sturdy library now lay in shambles, String and Le lost somewhere in them.
"Someone call and ambulance," one person shouted. "There were still people in there."
A few hurried off to get help while they crept through the slowly settling smoke.
Fire engine sirens sounded off in the distance, coming to extinguish the remaining flames, but they showed little concern to them.
Near where the door had once stood, shattered glass and crumbled walls were colored red with a sticky bloody substance. Caitlin immediately started clawing through, struggling to remove heavy concrete chunks. Finally managing to remove the wreckage, Caitlin drew in a harsh breath, trying to force herself to stay calm.
"Dom, I found them."
Dom's blue-grey eyes widened in shock.
"String, my boy, how do you get yourself into these things?"
Gaining semi consciousness, String drew in a single gasping breath before succumbing to total unconsciousness.
\A/
Three Weeks Later
Valley Trauma Center
Van Nuys, California
"String, you've got to come back to us. You did such a good thing, saved Le's life and so many others, but don't you want to be around for them to thank you?"
Caitlin had been up here visiting String nearly every day for the last three weeks with no visible signs of encouragement but not losing hope. The doctor had said that they believed sometimes talking with a coma patient helped, and she was doing plenty of talking, but still waiting to see some of those positive results.
"Chance misses you too. He wants to know when he can see his Daddy again, but I wasn't sure he should see you like this… I love you, we all do, remember that and come back to us. Please."
"Mrs. Hawke, if you'll excuse me just a minute I need to-"
"It's ok, I was just leaving. Um, I'll be back later," she smiled gratefully at the young nurse, gathered her belongings, and left the room.
\A/
Forcing heavy eyelids open, Hawke glanced around what was quickly identified as a hospital room, a headache already pounding in the back of his head and threatening to worsen at the slightest turn of the head.
He couldn't remember how he had gotten here and what he could have done to put him in this terrible condition, but surely dying would have been better, not that he was much better than dead anyway, seemingly transfixed to his current position, a less than comfortable hospital bed.
He went to call for a doctor, nurse, anyone who would help, but his voice came only as a barely audible whisper.
His attention turned to the TV screen flickering up on the wall, leaving evidence that someone had been here recently. He read the captions that crawled across the bottom of the screen.
'Three weeks and still hardly anything is known about the mysterious hero at the city library in Van Nuys twenty one days ago. Our latest source said he is currently checked into the Valley Trauma Canter in Van Nuys California where his condition is still only described as unstable and highly traumatized. Only one life was lost and three critical injuries thanks to the heroic acts of this man and his bravery and intuition. If you have any more information or would like to share your opinions, please call or write in to…'
He blinked wearily a couple pf times as started to doze off again and tuned out the TV as it was already worsening his headache. Whoever that guy was, he had done a good thing. Sure hope he lives, he mused to himself until a beautiful red head, probably a few years younger than him, entered the room, a sense of worry and concern marring her delicate features as she crossed in front of his bed. She looked as if she hadn't slept well lately, tired, and that she had been crying, her eyes still red-rimmed and moist. The news story, the constant moaning he could hear down the hall, and now her, there was a lot more pain and grief than he remembered, granted, he didn't remember much of anything right now, but still.
Happening to glance in his direction, suddenly all the fear left, happiness and delight, and hope, dancing in her eyes as she ran across the room, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing tightly.
That sure wasn't any greeting he would have expected, but hey, who was he to complain? A beautiful young red head wearing a somehow familiar brown leather bomber that was a few sizes too big for her, he could have done a lot worse.
Tears of joy trickled down her face as she finally relinquished her strong embrace, still momentarily too excited and overjoyed to move, much less speak. Finally managing to form words, an excited squeal emitted from her lips as she hugged him close again, this time more cautious of his abused body.
"Oh String…"
String? What kind of a name was that? Maybe it was just a nickname or a pet name, something like that…but who was she? Not a nurse, too pretty in his opinion and the outfit just wasn't right. She obviously knew him, now if only he could remember who she was…
He tried to return the act of affection anyway, albeit a bit awkward that she was a complete stranger, but he couldn't quite muster the strength to move much more than his head, and that was horribly painful enough. At least someone, whoever she was, cared that he was alive.
"You alright, String?" Caitlin's voice sounded stressed, worry creeping in again. He was always so stubbornly mule headed, determined to get out of the hospital the fastest way possible, and the first to assure you that no matter that the doctors said, what medicines and painkillers they had him on, or the fact he could be barely hanging on for his life, that he was ok. He could be so infuriating sometimes when he refused to listen to all reason, yet the lack of that particular statement, saying that despite everything he was fine, worried her immensely.
"I-I don't remember….you…anything…"
That sounded more abrupt and harsher than he would have liked, but it was all truth. He didn't even know her, but he couldn't bare that hurt look that now overshadowed all else in those stunningly beautiful hazel blue-green eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"It's alright, it will all come back in time," she stammered.
He sure hoped it did. He didn't want to continue to hurt such a kind soul, would even like to get to know her a little better. Whoa, buddy, slow down. He couldn't run so far ahead of himself like that, didn't know what to expect. For all he knew, she was already married and had kids, that she was just a good friend worried about his health and wellbeing.
"Stringfellow Hawke, only you could get yourself into this much trouble."
Stringfellow - so String was a kind of nickname, an abbreviation.
Thoughts raced through his head, all of them in different directions but still not getting anywhere. Sooner or later, they would all collide and he would have one helluva mess to sort through.