CHAPTER 6
Caitlin ran in, embracing Hawke in her arms and capturing his lips with her own before suddenly drawing back in remembrance; he didn't know her all that well, didn't remember her.
"I, uh, I'm sorry," she mumbled in apology. "I forgot…"
"It's alright," he assured, amused by the embarrassed pink shade spreading across her cheeks. "I could even kind of get used to it."
She blushed as she began sharing the news that had gotten her so excited in the first place. "The doctor said you are making great progress and if you take it easy and continue rehab twice a week, you can come home."
"That is good news. But I think it is I that should have come racing in here and kissing you."
Home truly sounded great, but it would have sounded even better is he could remember what or where home was.
\A/
Dom had started the Jet Ranger and had it ready when Caitlin pulled up with String in the jeep.
"You ready to finally go home?"
"More than ready."
Greeting Dom and Saint John briefly then heading over to the waiting helicopter with Caitlin, he prepared to go home. Chance came scurrying out of the hangar. Caitlin went to intercept him, although not entirely sure what she'd tell him, but trying to avoid the inevitably awkward moment between father and son. How did you tell a three year old who had been missing his father for the last month that his dad no longer knew who he was?
Chance avoided Caitlin though, running straight past her and tried climbing into the back of the helicopter.
Ignoring the doctor's warnings not to lift anything more than about fifteen pounds, Hawke hoisted the youngster up into his lap.
"Daddy! Daddy!" Chance cried excitedly.
"Hey little guy, did Chance miss Daddy?"
Caitlin simply stared in amazement. It kind of hurt that he remembered Chance and not her, but at least he remembered something; that was a step in the right direction.
"Ready to go?"
"Yeah."
\A/
The Jet Ranger landed smoothly in the end of the dock, the rotors slowing to a complete stop as they all climbed out.
Home sweet home. Or at least it was supposed to be.
Walking inside with the others, he looked around as if he had never been inside, not like he had lived the better portion of his life.
Was there any logic to what he did and did not remember? The doctor said his particular case was retrograde amnesia, so he should be able to remember things of the past easier than the more recent events. Why then could he remember his three year old son but not his wife? Not his parents? Were his parents even still living? If so, where did they live?
"You want me to go ahead and start fixing dinner?" Cait offered.
"Actually, I think I'd like to fix dinner. You know, start getting reacquainted with where everything is."
"Fine by me, just call if you need any help."
String set to work refamiliarizing himself with the kitchen and started cooking a meatless chili.
Forty minutes later they were all sitting down to dinner.
"Mmm, smells delicious," Caitlin complimented.
"Hopefully I didn't forget how to cook too. If I did, we all could be in trouble."
\A/
Ominous grey clouds gathered in the quickly darkening sky. Waves crashed over the edges of the boat, water rushing onto the deck.
"String," he heard a voice calling, "over here. Hang on so the…."
Howling wind whipped at his clothes as he struggled to reach his parents. Another wave broke over the side, knocking him off his feet and into the growing pool of water on the deck. The undertow and more waves washed him overboard, tumbling him around and around until he no longer knew which way was up and which was down, the waters too strong to swim against even if he had known.
Saint John dove in after him, unafraid of what the waters could do to him, only concerned for his younger brother's wellbeing.
The next thing he remembered, he woke up coughing and sputtering water, looking up into his concerned older brother's hazel eyes.
"String, are you ok?"
He couldn't form words, too shocked to even think clearly, dwelling constantly over two simple facts - their parents weren't there and that Saint John had saved his life. That could only mean one thing.
"String," Saint john repeated again, even more concern evident in his voice.
He wanted to tell Sinj he was ok, that everything would turn out alright, but he wasn't so sure it was.
Despite his own exhaustion, Saint John helped his younger brother all the way back to the cabin, mostly carrying him a good portion of the trip.
It was a long, tiresome trip, and by the time they reached the cabin, it was all he could do to draw in enough air to keep on breathing, most definitely the most exhausting and most terrifying time of his young life, and most definitely something he never wanted to do again, but he would be eternally grateful for Saint John's bravery and courage. He owned him everything, his very life, because Saint John was the very reason he still had a life to live.
\A/
Caitlin woke early the next morning but figured Chance would also be up soon so she had better get started with breakfast.
Slowly descending down the stair from the loft, she saw Chance already working his way through some French toast and making a mess with the syrup as String set two more plates next the already full and waiting coffee mugs,
"Looks to me like you're finding your way around the kitchen pretty well."
"Some of it is starting to come back and I had a dream last night…"
"What kind of dream?" Cait inquired.
"Under normal circumstances I might call it more of a nightmare, but in this case it could actually be a good thing, assuming it is all true."
Now he really had her confused. How could a nightmare be good?
"I remember Saint John better and our parents' deaths, how he saved me."
Definitely a mixed bundle, it was good that he could remember, but that wasn't the easiest thing to start out with either.
\A/
"Have you heard anymore about String?" Saint John inquired, "How he's getting along at home or anything?"
"Yeah, Cait says his physical injuries are healing well; one of the doctors' biggest concerns was about the psychological trauma and sometimes it causing other more complex problems."
"What kind of other problems?"
"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which he already probably has a bit of, and emotional detachment. I mean, you know how he can be."
"Yeah," Saint John replied. "I definitely know."
"Today he is going to physiotherapy and if he isn't too tired after that Caitlin said she would bring him by to visit for a while."