CHAPTER 4.…….THE NEW LIFE

Caitlin poured herself a large mug of coffee and set it out on the counter. String was still asleep now, but most likely he would come to confiscate her drink any minute. Le wandered in, and automatically poured himself a bowl of cereal.

“No big breakfast today?” Caitlin asked as she started to put the pan she was going to use away.

“Nah, not today. But you and Uncle String can still have some,” he added when he saw he putting the pan away.

“That’s ok. He doesn’t eat the bacon usually anyway.”

She wandered upstairs to see if he was stirring yet. He was struggling with the buttons when she came in.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were joining us. You’re usually the first one up.”

“Was tired,” he explained.

“You did look pretty wiped out.”

“Yeah.”

“You want some help with those?” she asked noticing the tiredness that still showed. Not even waiting for an answer, she deftly finished buttoning his shirt.

He started to pull on a sweater before she could see his arms, but she caught him, “Hawke, it’s not even cold out there at….. Oh, I see.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Burns still plagued much of his body, especially his arms, further proving just how seriously he had been injured.

“How bad is your ankle really?” she asked. If he hadn’t admitted to the burns, she doubted he'd told the truth about his ankle either.

He settled on the edge of the bed trying to ease some of the pain from standing the last few minutes. She’d find out eventually, it would just be easier if he told her now. Hesitantly, he started to roll up his pant leg for her to see. “It’s about as bad as I said last night, only it didn’t nearly blow my ankle off. It was shrapnel from when Dom blew up the other chopper and it almost took off my whole leg.”

She cringed at the sight. The wound was starting to heal, but a dangerously deep gash still came across his leg from about mid-thigh down to his ankle.

“Just don’t tell Dom. It won’t make things any better, and he’ll just beat himself up about it, even though he knows that of he hadn’t blown the other chopper I wound truly be dead and not just a wounded walking skeleton.”

“Alright,” she agreed, “but you’re thinner than ever. Didn’t they feed you anything in that place?”

“Hospital food doesn’t taste too good, and after three months you get kind of tired of it.”

“Come on downstairs and I’ll fix you a nice big breakfast.”

“And some coffee,” he added.

“And some coffee.”

\A/

“Come on, Le” Caitlin called, “we’ve got to get to the hangar before Dom sends out a search party.”

Le climbed into the back of the Jet Ranger. Caitlin sat down up front.

“Oh, String,” she said in surprise not expecting to see him sitting next to her. “You’re sure you don’t want to stay home and rest?”

“No. I want to see the look on Michael’s face when he finds out I’m not dead.”

‘Michael’ she sighed. Someone else to share him with. She had missed him so much during those long three months and didn’t want to have to share him with anyone else, but it looked like she was going to have to.

“You want to fly?” she asked.

He shook his head, but his eyes told her he did.

“Don’t feel up to it?”

“Something like that.”

“What did the doctor say?” she asked, ‘not that he ever actually listened to the doctor,’ she mentally added.

Sadness showed on his face for a moment before the usual impassive mask hid it. “With my ankle being as bad as it is and the burns causing me to lose a lot of the feeling in my arms, I won’t be able to fly again.”

‘Won’t be able to fly’ the words rung out in her head. He had to be able to fly; he had most of his life. It was his job and his only way to get to and from the cabin. “The doctors aren’t always right,” she tried to encourage him.

“Cait, I can’t even button my own shirt, dammit, how am I supposed to be able to fly? How am I supposed to be a good father? Huh? Tell me that. If I can’t do it myself, how am I ever supposed to teach our kid?”

Caitlin was silent.

“Do you even know the odds of me flying again?”

“No,” she admitted, “ but I do know you’ve never let the odds stop you before.”

\A/

Michael walked into the hangar with only a slight limp, his cane mostly for show.

“Dominic, I’ve been trying to avoid this conversation, but I’ve finished every single other thing I had to do.”

“Just spit it out, Michael, whatever it is.”

“While I currently don’t have any missions for you...”

‘That’s a first,’ Dom mentally interrupted.

“You might want to take Airwolf out every once in a while to make sure…..”

His face went pale.

“What is it?” Saint John asked. “you look like you just saw a ghost.”

“I think I did.”

Saint John spun around to see his brother and Caitlin walking up.”

“Hey, Michael,” String greeted, trying to fake some enthusiasm. It wasn’t working too well.

“You’re alive,” he said in astonishment.

“Yeah,” he returned with wry nonchalance, “that’s what the doctors said.”

Michael took mental note of the burns and obvious limp. It would be awhile before he was on any more missions, nevertheless it was nice to have him back.

Lauren came from the waiting limo. “Sir, you’re needed back at headquarters immediately.”

“Well, String I can't begin to tell you how glad I am to see you , but I guess I’ve got to go.”

“Yeah, be seeing you.”

\A/

At the cabin that night Caitlin was making String’s favorite fish with vegetables hoping maybe he’d eat more.

He entered the kitchen.

“I’m making it special just for you.”

“I’m not hungry,” he answered bluntly.

“String...”

“I said, I don’t want anything to eat.”

“Don’t want or won’t eat? You can’t lie to me, you’ve got to be hungry. At the hospital you pretty much stopped eating all together and you’ve hardly had anything all day.”

“What’s wrong with me not being hungry?”

“Nothing, except that you’re skin and bones. String, please eat something.”

“Fine.” She wasn’t going to leave him alone about it until he ate something and he knew it.

He fumbled with the fork, frustrated at how hard the small movements were with the numbness caused by the burns. In frustration, he threw down his fork and stormed upstairs, grimacing at the pain now shooting through his leg.

After giving him a few minutes to calm down, Caitlin went up. “Hey, listen, I know this must be hard for you, but…”

He interrupted. “How, Cait? How do you know how hard it is? You don’t. I can’t fly or play the cello or button my own shirt. I can’t even feed myself easily. I just want to go back to living life like a normal person.”

“Ok, I can understand that. Maybe I don’t know exactly how hard, but I do know it’s difficult for you, and I’ll help you work through it, but you’ve got to let me help.”

\A/

TWO WEEKS LATER…

String sat on the tree stump outside the cabin playing his cello. The song was mournful, as was his mood, but he had also chosen it since it was one of the easier pieces.

Caitlin tried not to shudder at the last off note, but it could have been worse; she would know.

“It’s getting better,” she said truthfully.

He set the cello down beside him to be picked up later. “Maybe,” he allowed.

“It is. I swear it is. Don’t worry, you’ll prove those doctors wrong yet, you always do.”

She had hope and confidence that he could do it. It would take time and practice, but he too knew it was getting there.

“I told you, you would have to have patience with me, I just didn’t know it would require so much of my own.”

She laughed pulling him closer. “And I told you I would help you through it, no matter how long it took.”

“Yeah, you did.” He intertwined his fingers in her long red hair. Gently, he pulled her even closer and kissed her before removing his fingers from her tresses without so much as a single snag.

She was amazed at just how delicate his movements were. “See, that was good.”

“Does that mean I should do it again?”

“Anytime.”