CHAPTER 5
4:45pm
Santini Air Hangar
Le van Hawke dropped his backpack by the door and felt under the mat for the key. Finding it, he unlocked the door and let himself into the dark hangar. He flicked on the light and went to find himself a snack, not unaccustomed to walking into the empty hangar. Didn't know they had a job this afternoon, he mused to himself, oh well, maybe it was a last minute thing. He poured himself a cup of juice and found a package of trail mix, taking it with him back to the office where he proceeded to watch tv while instead of doing his homework. It could wait he decided, if they were this late, chances were it'd be a while before it was time to go home.
\A/
"It's highly contagious and if we don't keep a careful eye on it, obviously can be fatal I think it's in everyone's best interest to not allow any visitors at this time until his condition is a bit more stable. I f anyone carrying any other harmful illness, even someone not yet showing symptoms, it could be enough to put him over the edge. I understand it's difficult, but it's probably best this way.
Still whiteface from the latest scare, Caitlin blanched even more if that was possible, Hawke wrapping a supporting arm around her waist to keep her from falling in the floor as she wavered slightly. "W-whatever's best," she finally managed to whisper.
Hawke started to object, adamant it was not ok, and that their son needed them, they needed him, but stopped short. It would ease a lot of pain at the moment to be able to see him, but the doctor had his reasonings for ordering complete a quarantine and within a day or two hopefully he would be well enough to move back to the previous arrangements. He was a Hawke, a fighter, he'd make it through, he had to.
"There is a little window you can see him through," the pediatric doctor added. "I know it's not the same, but I'm afraid it's all I have to offer."
"Thanks," Caitlin said appreciatively, blinking back tears and sinking onto the bench behind her. "We appreciate it, really we do."
Saint John and Dominic came hurrying down the hallway, coming to a stop at the occupied bench just outside the room, Chance nowhere in sight.
Damn, Dom though, wishing their fears hadn't been as well founded. Unfortunately it appeared they were. "He's alright isn't he?"
"No Dom, not really."
"He's-"
"He's sick, really sick. I don't know how I missed it for so long… Later this morning I had been planning to take him to see his pediatrician, but while Cait was fixing breakfast he started coughing so much he could hardly breath and his fever spiked. By the time I made it to the chopper, he was seizing… I suddenly had the terrible though that he might not make it. We did, but things haven't really improved. A couple hours ago he quit breathing." he finished, now on the verge of breaking down himself.
"Q-quit breathing?"
Hawke nodded, tear drops starting to roll down his cheek. "Doctors have him stable, for now… quarantined though."
He searched for the right words to say, something to give them hope and encouragement, but could find none. Finally he conceded that maybe there just weren't any words to be said and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder as he drew in a shuddering breath, tears moistening his own eyes and flowing generously down his face.
\A/
Barely managing to stay in the air, the usually graceful helicopter shook violently, fuselage riddled with gunfire and dented, and a considerable amount of smoke pouring from the rear end. The landing gear, or what was left of it, came down as the Wolf limped in the final few hundred yards.
Inside, her single crewmember was doing little better, battle scared and wounded. Far from what was normally considered appropriate for a funeral, he though dejectedly, from the father of all people, but this was something he couldn't miss, his last chance to say goodbye. At the moment he wasn't so sure he'd make it himself, not sure he wanted to anyway. He removed his hand from his wounded stomach , releasing the pressure against it, and another rush of sticky red blood gushed out, further staining the tattered grey flight suit that clung to his singed skin. If Dom could only see the cockpit now he wouldn't have to worry about dying he though half humouredly, that was if Dom ever managed to get past the mutilated outside.
Suddenly feeling lightheaded, he saw the pallbearers carry out the polished wooden casket, another painful blow. He couldn't handle this, it was just too much for one man to bear, physically or emotionally.
The pallbearers and the rest of the funeral procession walked past just outside Airwolf as he fought with the door, desperately clawing at it trying to get free, but his numb fingers slid from the door, only succeeding in dirtying it even more. No one seemed to notice.
Finally he escaped the confine of the cockpit, only to collapse at his first step. People continued to walk by, oblivious to his pain filled cried as he gasped for breath. No one seemed to care.
"We are gathered here today to remember…." the priest began.
"No, no, no…" he called out, his voice only coming out in a cracked whisper.
Out of nowhere, two men came behind him with a stretcher, strong arms lifting him towards it, towards safety and shelter, and away from all this pain, the daggers of pain, guilt, and anguish stabbing him and raking through a body that couldn't take any more. But he fought for it, to keep the agony for a few more minutes in exchange for being able to say a final goodbye.
"No!" he yelled, breaking free from their grip. "No, I have to see my son… I need to…"
He fell, hitting the ground hard and unable to get to his feet again. Crawling across the dirt turned mud in the rain miserably, he approached the casket, unaware of the many curious and appalled eyes watching him. He raised a shaking hand as it to stroke the fine grained wood as he might have the short blond fringe of the three year old, but the powerful arms lifted him up again towards the stretched and waiting ambulance, amazed he hadn't bled to death already by the steady stream he was leaving behind him wherever he went alone. He protested the whole way, every breath getting harder to take as shovelfuls of dirt covered the casket.
"No!" he cried, blood and teas mingling, "Chance…… Chance….."