Fanfiction: One of the Family - Part I

[rachel500]

Fandom: Airwolf
Summary: Hawke battles his personal demons as an old foe emerges to threaten his family. 
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Hawke/Caitlin.  Michael/Marella.  Saint John/Jo.  Mike/Sarah.  Final sequel to The Lost Season and Finding Family series.
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.  Written for entertainment purposes only.


One of the Family

Chapter 1

Airwolf streaked through the open sky with a howl. A deadly black and white creature; sleek lines and powerful rotors cutting through the wispy clouds like a knife through the butter. There was a scream of engines as she ascended until the ground was far below her.

Stringfellow Hawke brought Airwolf to a hover. In his biased opinion, there was nothing like flying the original Airwolf helicopter; a perfect symmetry between man and machine. While the models had been updated, ostensibly improved with faster, quicker technology and innovations as the years had passed, and the two current Airwolf class helicopters in operation were fierce in both design and execution, Hawke would always have a soft spot for the decommissioned original he had once flown with his late mentor, Dominic Santini. Every so often, he would take Airwolf out of storage and stretch her wings. The artificial intelligence the original machine had developed, and which existed in a virtual computer environment he didn’t fully understand, often came with him.

Hawke let the familiarity of the sound and feel of her unknot the muscles in his body. He wasn’t as young as he used to be; age was beginning to catch up with his reflexes and his appearance. Each day seemed to bring more grey streaks in amongst the mink brown of his short hair; his boyish face had been marked with faint lines. His body was in good shape; he exercised regularly and his mainly vegetarian and fish diet was healthy enough to maintain his weight. But it was the guarded blue eyes that gave away his years more than anything. The stormy depths hinted too much at the pain Hawke had endured; the years spent mourning parents he had thought he had lost in a terrible boating accident; years searching for Saint John, his older MIA brother despite the odds, and retreating in the face of loss after loss to hide in a mountain cabin.

Not that his life was filled anymore with the angst that had marked his childhood and most of his years as a man. He had found his family again; first, Saint John had returned home. They’d struggled initially to understand why Saint John had stayed away so long; what he had put Hawke through in the years of not knowing. But they had been reunited and once they were together, they had begun to realise that their parents may not have died and began to search for them. They’d found their mother and father hiding in witness protection believing their older sons had died in the boating accident. His parents had added two more children to the family, Seb, and Sarah who had her own son, Chris.

But it wasn’t so much the family he had found that had saved him as the one he had built. He had married Caitlin O’Shaugnessy thirteen years before after their friendship had turned into something deeper. He loved her so completely that he often wondered that he’d allowed his self-doubt and fears over losing someone else he loved to keep them apart for so long. Motherhood had added some curves to her once boyish figure but the feisty, smart, independent redhead he had fallen for was very much the same woman.

Their children, eleven year old Nicky and ten year old Amelia, were the light of Hawke’s life. Both were unique and special. Nicky had inherited his looks but he was a gregarious, sociable young boy with a circle of close friends and his mother’s temper. Amelia was more introverted, even-tempered and musical; she was smart as a whip. They were both good kids; doing well at school, ambitious. Nicky wanted to be an Air Force pilot; Amelia wanted to be a musician. He figured they’d both succeed. He was proud of them.

It wasn’t just his own close knit unit though that Hawke considered family; Michael Coldsmith-Briggs III and his wife, Marella, were close friends along with their twenty-two year old daughter, Angelina. They still ran the Airwolf project; still excelled when embroiled in the grey of politics and spy machinations but the couple were a solid part of his and Caitlin’s life.

Mike Rivers, Saint John’s best friend, and Hawke’s old flying partner in Airwolf, had also become part of the family. He was engaged to Sarah and the couple would marry in a few weeks. They had been together a couple of years and while Hawke could admit to himself he’d had his doubts, Mike had proven he was in it for the long haul.

The wedding would bring back Jo Santini from Italy for the first time in two years. She had reverted to her maiden name after her divorce from Saint John. The couple’s marriage hadn’t survived the death of their daughter, Bella. Hawke had mixed feelings about her return. He loved Jo like she was a second kid sister, Dom had raised them together after all, but he was angry at her for walking out on his brother and he wasn’t certain that Saint John needed to be hurt all over again when she showed up.

Still, Hawke mused, as he shifted position, easing back in the worn seat to stare blindly out at the blue sky, it wasn’t Jo’s return that had driven him to seek out Airwolf for a spin; it was his marriage.

Just the admission in his head made his stomach churn uneasily.

Marriages took work. He knew that. And he knew that all couple inevitably went through good and bad times. He’d just somewhere, somehow along the way, fallen into the belief that he and Caitlin were immune from the usual marital ups and downs. Sure, they argued occasionally but they rarely disagreed over anything serious. Unfortunately, thanks to the last few days of near silence from his wife, Hawke was ready to admit that there was no denying that they’d hit a rough patch.

Hawke sighed and took Airwolf into a dive. He kept low, travelling over the landscape at mach speed.

He let his mind wander. He understood why Caitlin was so upset with him. He’d missed an important first night performance of Amelia’s piano recital. He’d made the second performance, spent time alone with Amelia to make up for his absence, but while his daughter had forgiven him, Caitlin had not. She didn’t agree with his reasons for missing the recital.

‘You missed your daughter’s recital because you wanted to play hero; because you had to be there for Lydia Armstrong and wouldn’t let someone else handle it.’ Caitlin’s eyes regarded him with disappointment. ‘You couldn’t even call?’

Hawke shifted in his seat at the memory. She hadn’t been angry. In some ways, he might have been able to simply dismiss it if she had; put it down to jealousy over his decision to stay with a distraught Lydia who was going through a tough time with her ex.

No.

Caitlin wasn’t angry; she was disappointed in him. Moreover she was disappointed in Hawke’s performance as a father, as a husband. And that had left him reeling.

He sighed. He wasn’t even sure why he’d stayed with Lydia. She had been the best friend of Polly Callaghan, his late fiancée and childhood sweetheart. Polly had tragically been killed in a car accident just before Hawke had shipped out to ‘Nam. He hadn’t stayed in touch with Lydia - had barely remembered the shy mousy shadow that used to follow Polly around. But she’d turned up working at Red Star as an engineer a few months before.

The smart blonde woman had introduced herself and smiled when he looked at her blankly, gently prompting his memory and waving away his apology when he had realised who she was. She admitted shyly she’d undergone something of a makeover since her younger days and Hawke could see it in the stylish clothing, trim body and groomed appearance. She was an attractive woman. She even reminded him a little of Polly who had been a typical Californian girl - blonde, tanned, carefree.

Caitlin had even welcomed her warmly when Hawke had introduced them; they’d invited Lydia to the cabin, had dinner, and exchanged old stories. Everything had been fine. But about a month or so before Lydia’s ex had seemingly started stalking her. Lydia had finally asked for Hawke’s help and he’d gone with her to confront the guy only to find he’d skipped out on his motel. The guy had been giving Lydia a hard time since.

The night of the recital, Lydia’s apartment had been broken into and wrecked. She’d called Hawke in a panic just as he’d been about to leave work to head for the cabin. He’d diverted to Lydia’s apartment, talked her into calling the police, stayed with her. By the time the dust had settled, he’d missed the recital.

He could have called. Both he and Caitlin had cell phones courtesy of the Airwolf programme. But he hated them, wasn’t used to them; he’d had his switched off and he’d forgotten about it. When he had remembered, the long list of missed calls and messages from his wife had stirred up a whole new set of guilt.

Hawke frowned as he checked his coordinates. He was only five minutes off the old Lair. He detoured, lowering Airwolf down into the funnel and landing gently on the dusty floor, sending clouds of it billowing into the dark, empty spaces. He switched off the engines and powered down before he removed his helmet.

The silence was almost deafening. He looked out into the cave and felt his chest tighten with unexpected emotion. The place was full of ghosts...or rather one in particular; Dom. He blinked back the tears that stung his eyes and leaned back in the seat.

He missed the man who’d raised him with a rawness that felt as though Dom had died the day before and not twelve years since. Sometimes it seemed his grief got worse with time not better. He sighed heavily and allowed the memories to wash over him...

Dom stroking Airwolf’s nose and cooing to her like she was a baby...

Dom’s laugh bellowing out and lighting the gloom with its joie de vivre...

Dom’s hand, a comforting weight on his shoulder...his presence in Airwolf a familiar security...

Hawke shook the memories away. Damn. He wished Dom was with him; he could do with some of the older man’s homespun wisdom. As much as he’d gotten closer to his folks since they’d been reunited, he still felt awkward confiding in them. He automatically ruled out Seb and Sarah; they were a heck of a lot younger than him and being raised separately during their childhood years had left a distance that Hawke felt even if Saint John had seemed to bridge the gap.

His older brother might have been an option - they’d long ago managed to get past Saint John’s years of absence - but Hawke knew his brother was still reeling from his divorce; still struggling to cope with the loss of Bella. He didn’t need Hawke dumping all his problems on him.

Michael might have been an alternative; the spy was his best friend and they’d shared a lot over the years. But Hawke was too aware that Michael and importantly, Marella, were also Caitlin’s friends and he didn’t want to put them in the middle of it.

Which is why he sat in a cave on his own trying to understand what the hell was going on, Hawke mused despondently; it almost felt like old times.

So what the hell was going on?

Hawke ran a hand through his short cropped hair. The immediate problem wasn’t the whole story; he knew that much. The recital had been the final straw for Caitlin in a succession of family stuff that he’d missed because of the situation with Lydia. He grimaced. Why had he gotten so involved with her?

It wasn’t attraction; it wasn’t even old friendship - they hadn’t been that close back in the days he’d been engaged to Polly. Lydia’s situation was awful for her and he felt for her, she was clearly frightened of the guy, but he wasn’t sure what had compelled him to try and handle it on his own. Hell, Caitlin had even offered after the first incident to have Lydia stay at the cabin for a while and he had refused...

He’d wanted to keep his family safe, Hawke argued with himself. He’d wanted to keep them out of it and away from any danger.

‘You’ve been pushing us - me - away for months, String.’ Caitlin’s words darted through his head like lightening. ‘You don’t want to talk about anything not even this thing with Lydia when we could help track this guy down - or maybe you don’t want to question her story at all?’ Her eyes had glimmered with hurt. ‘You barely look at me and you don’t touch me unless we’re in bed.’

‘Are you accusing me of cheating?’ His own voice had given away his incredulity that that’s exactly what she had thought.

Her reply had been sad. ‘Just talk to me.’

Only he hadn’t; he’d stormed out, taking his dog Bit for a long walk on the mountain. They’d hardly exchanged two words since.

Hawke squirmed in the seat and in a rush, pushed open the door and jumped out, pacing across the floor to stand in the darkness.

What was going on with him? Why was he pushing her away? He didn’t mean to - did he?

His heart pounded in his chest.

His Dad had suffered a heart attack just before Lydia had showed up. It had been mild; a reminder, the doctor had said, that his father wasn’t a young man and needed to slow down. But for twenty-four hours it had been scary especially seeing the fear on his Mom’s face, on his brothers’ and sister’s.

Hawke sat down on a rock and gazed back at Airwolf. A thin shaft of evening sunlight bathed her in warm amber. A memory filtered through his head; Dom questioning him over Caitlin’s decision to head back to Texas for a vacation...a week of walking around on eggshells with each other because she’d seen him vulnerable and comforted him...because he’d nearly given into the impulse to kiss her...

‘Kid, when you put space between you and someone, you put real space.’

Dom’s voice echoed in his head.

Was that what he’d been doing since his father’s stay in hospital? Putting space between him and Caitlin?

Probably.

And not just Caitlin but his whole family; his parents, his siblings...his children...

Hawke swore roundly. It was disconcerting to realise that he had fallen into an old pattern of behaviour he’d thought he’d managed to banish with his years of marriage and family.

The scare with his Dad had brought everything back, Hawke realised chagrined; all of his past with loss after loss. Lydia showing up and reminding him about Polly had just reinforced that. Somehow he’d let his old fears of losing the people he loved sneak back in and he’d spent the last three months pushing everyone away from him.

Lydia’s situation with her ex had been his camouflage - an easy excuse he could use to hide behind so he could avoid being with the people he loved. Caitlin had been right; he hadn’t done anything to really help Lydia by asking for Michael’s assistance to track the guy down, or remove Lydia from where her ex seemed to know she lived. He’d used Lydia to avoid his wife.

The truth sat like a lump of concrete in his belly.

‘You’ll make it up to her.’

Dom’s old advice drifted through his head and he wondered as the light faded exactly how he did that.

It was late by the time Hawke returned to Red Star. The control tower welcomed him back and he manoeuvred Airwolf into her hangar with a sigh. He wasn’t surprised to see Michael waiting for him. The spy was nonchalantly sat on a chair by an old work bench, dressed as always in a white three piece suit with his legs outstretched in front of him and his ubiquitous cane resting across his lap. Hawke stepped out of Airwolf and made his way over to his friend.

Michael pointed his cane at him. ‘You’re late.’

Hawke shrugged. ‘Sorry I missed curfew.’

The expected sarcasm had Michael’s lips twitching as he got to his feet. ‘Caitlin called.’

Another frisson of guilt curdled in his gut. ‘She OK?’

‘Worried about you.’ Michael said succinctly. His hand caressed the silver handle of his cane as his good eye met Hawke’s guarded gaze before flickering to Airwolf. ‘Good flight?’

Hawke looked back at the old helicopter. ‘Yeah.’ He sighed and turned back to his friend. ‘Michael, Lydia Armstrong...’

‘What about her?’ Michael asked mildly.

‘I need you to track down her ex, Drew Henman.’ Hawke explained. ‘He’s been hassling her; phone calls, threatening gifts. He wrecked her apartment a couple of nights ago.’

Michael stroked his white moustache. ‘I’ll look into it.’ He tapped his cane on the concrete floor. ‘Is there a reason why this is the first time I’m hearing about it?’

‘She didn’t want anyone to know.’ Hawke lifted a shoulder, unwilling to explain why he’d gone along with that. ‘But if he’s escalating...’

‘You want me to take care of warning him off?’ Michael offered.

Hawke wrestled with the urge to say no. He nodded briskly. ‘That would be good.’ He rocked back on his heels and took a breath. ‘You think you could get Mike to fill in for me tomorrow on the test flight for the new ship with Seb and Angelina?’ He figured he needed to spend some time with his wife.

Michael’s eyebrows shot up but he nodded. ‘Sure.’

‘Thanks.’ Hawke patted his arm in response and made to leave.

‘Hawke.’

Michael’s worried voice halted Hawke at the door. Hawke turned back around inquisitively.

‘You and Caitlin...’ Michael grimaced but he continued anyway, ‘are you OK?’

Hawke’s lips tightened momentarily and his grip on the door grew painful before he allowed himself to nod. ‘We will be.’

Chapter 2

The morning sun peeked through the windows and flooded the room with light. Hawke felt the warmth of the rays on his bare skin as he shifted into consciousness. He opened his eyes and smiled at the woman snuggled firmly against him.

Caitlin’s red hair was spread out over the pillow but her face was buried in the crook of his neck; her arm was wrapped around his waist. One of his arms was equally tight around hers.

She was breathing deeply, and he kept still for a long while unwilling to wake her. He’d felt the same way when he’d arrived home to find his family already turned in for the night, Caitlin fast asleep in their bed. He’d crawled in beside her and held her. The stress he’d put her through was evident in the dark patches under her eyes, the faint trace of tears on her cheeks. She needed the rest, Hawke mused. And he could wait to make his explanations and apologies.

Faint sounds drifted through the closed bedroom door; water running in the downstairs’ bathroom, cupboards being opened in the kitchen and crockery banging onto surfaces: the kids were up.

Hawke dropped a soft kiss on Caitlin’s bare shoulder before he untangled himself slowly, careful not to disturb her. He made quick work of his own ablutions in the en suite shower room to their master bedroom. He was slightly surprised Caitlin hadn’t stirred when he re-entered the bedroom to dress but as he dragged on jeans and an old blue sweater, he determined it gave him an opportunity to make her breakfast in bed - to begin to make it up to her.

He made sure he was quiet as he let himself out of the bedroom and headed down the stairs to the living area. Amelia was sprawled in front of the hearth; her eyes glued to the pages of a book as she absently spooned cereal into her mouth. She barely looked up as Hawke greeted her.

Nicky was in the kitchen; t-shirt over his pyjama bottoms - his athletic body beginning to show the first hints of the man he’d one day grow into. Hawke’s eyes caught on the tray his son was preparing; clearly they’d had the same idea.

‘Hey.’ Hawke greeted Nicky and nodded at the tray. ‘That for your Mom?’

Nicky nodded but he didn’t speak and turned away from Hawke.

Hawke frowned. ‘Nicky?’

His son spun around, blue eyes flashing with anger. ‘She was crying last night. I heard her.’

The words drove the breath from his body as surely as though Nicky had punched him. ‘Nicky...’

‘Are you and Mom getting a divorce like Uncle Saint John?’ Amelia interrupted from her place across the room. Her green eyes were filled with trepidation. ‘Are you going to marry that lady Lydia?’

The question drove the breath from Hawke’s body. God. Hawke wet his lips, unsure how he handled the mess he’d evidently made.

‘You are, aren’t you?’ Nicky sounded completely disgusted and as he made to push past Hawke to get out of the kitchen, Hawke caught hold of his shoulder. His son struggled against his grip.

‘Hey, quit it.’ Hawke ordered brusquely as he pushed Nicky onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. He gestured for Amelia to sit in one of the others and she reluctantly padded across to join them.

Hawke moved back around and looked both of his children in the eye. ‘Your Mom and I are not getting a divorce and I am not having an affair with Lydia.’

Amelia and Nicky exchanged a silent look.

‘I take it you two have been talking about this?’ Hawke said trying to catch up with his kids’ train of thought.

Nicky shifted on the stool but he looked back at his father defiantly. ‘We notice stuff and you haven’t been around a whole lot lately.’

‘I know.’ Hawke admitted honestly. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’ve been cheating on your Mom. I love her; I would never do that to her.’ He sighed as he forced himself to continue. ‘I’m sorry the two of you have been hurt because I haven’t been around.’

Amelia slipped off her stool and walked around the breakfast bar to hug him. ‘I forgive you, Daddy.’ She said quietly.

He hauled her against him and kissed the top of her auburn head. He glanced up at Nicky.

His son regarded him with a hard look; arms folded tightly over his t-shirt and chin set at a stubborn angle Hawke recognised all too well. ‘You going to make it up to Mom?’

‘I am.’ Hawke confirmed.

Nicky nodded slowly. ‘Don’t fuck it up.’

He was off the stool and storming away to his bedroom before Hawke could retort and complain about the swearing or the sentiment. Hawke let out a slow breath and pushed the nudge of anger at Nicky away. His son had a right to be stewed at him and a right to be protective about his mother.

Amelia gave him a squeeze and slipped away from him. ‘I’ll go talk to Nicky.’ She wandered off after her brother and Hawke watched her bemused, wondering when she’d grown up enough to take on the responsibility of calming down her older brother.

He really had screwed up, Hawke mused sadly. His eyes alighted again on the breakfast tray Nicky had started preparing and he focused on finishing it. Once he’d straightened everything out with his wife, they’d talk about how they he could put things right with the kids. Maybe some quality time together as a family; the kids only had another week of school before the summer break so maybe after they could go somewhere...

Hawke lifted the tray and made his way back upstairs. He pushed open the bedroom door and stopped at the sight of the empty bed. He frowned as he heard the distinctive sound of vomiting and shoved the tray onto a side table before he hurried into the bathroom.

Caitlin was slumped in front of the toilet, throwing up; her thin shoulders shook and he could see tears threatening in her eyes. He pulled her dressing gown from the hook and covered her with it, rubbing her arms and back as he held her through another bout of heaves.

If he didn’t know better he’d think she was pregnant; she’d suffered with morning sickness carrying Nicky and Amelia. But the doctor had informed them their chances of conceiving again were slim due to the amount of internal scarring Caitlin had suffered, that it would be dangerous for her to conceive again, and while she had been unwilling to let him take a final step of a vasectomy or put herself through a tubal ligation, they’d been on contraceptives as soon as Amelia moved onto solid food. No, thought Hawke concerned, the sickness was probably food poisoning or a tummy bug.

Caitlin finally stilled and Hawke left her momentarily to rinse a washcloth out before he returned to her side and washed her face gently. He helped her up and she made for the sink, swaying a little and holding into the porcelain as he silently handed her a toothbrush with toothpaste smeared on the bristles. He cleaned up the toilet while she brushed away the taste of bile, finishing just in time to walk her back into the bedroom and usher her into bed.

‘I thought you were going in today for the test run.’ Caitlin said, climbing back under the covers without protest.

‘I asked Michael to get Mike to fill in.’ Hawke explained. He sat down beside her, placed a hand on her forehead and tried not to notice the way she was avoiding his gaze.

She noticed the tray and frowned. ‘What’s that?’ She asked tiredly.

‘Breakfast.’ Hawke admitted. ‘Although I’m thinking I’ll go get you some tea and toast instead.’

Caitlin grimaced. ‘Probably a good idea.’

‘You’re not warm.’ He muttered, lowering his hand. ‘I’ll call the doctor.’

‘String.’ Caitlin snagged his hand when he went to move away. ‘There’s no need for a doctor.’ She bit her lip, her eyes pinned somewhere over his shoulder. ‘I’m pregnant.’

Hawke stared at her. That wasn’t possible...it just wasn’t possible. ‘What?’

She let go of his hand and he immediately took hold of hers again. It surprised her into looking at him.

‘You’re pregnant.’ Hawke repeated.

She nodded slowly. ‘Two months.’

Hawke flinched and dropped his gaze. Two months. She’d been pregnant two months; all the time he had been pushing her away and she had been pregnant.

‘I didn’t even realise myself until recently and I’ve only known for certain a little while.’ Caitlin murmured as though she’d read his mind.

Hawke raised his head and grimaced. ‘Since the day of the recital.’ He realised. It explained why she’d been so upset with him; why she’d pushed him on his behaviour.

Caitlin sighed. ‘It was just bad timing all round.’

‘You’re OK?’ Hawke asked, his thumb rubbing along the back of her knuckles.

‘I’m OK; the baby’s OK.’ She pulled a face. ‘This is the first time I’ve been sick.’

‘Cait,’ Hawke’s hold on her hand tightened, ‘the doctor said it was dangerous for you to get pregnant again and...’ her hand on his cheek stopped him.

‘I’m OK.’ Caitlin grimaced. ‘She’s advising bed rest as soon as I come out of the second trimester and she’s suggested we think about agreeing to an early caesarean possibly around seven-eight months if the baby is big enough so there isn’t too much strain on my uterus and I don’t go into premature labour and risk haemorrhaging.’

‘Whatever we need to do to keep you both safe.’ Hawke said fervently. He leaned over and kissed her gently before resting his forehead on hers. ‘I’ve been an idiot.’

Caitlin’s hand stroked through his hair until it came to rest on the back of his neck. ‘You ready to talk?’

Hawke eased back enough to look at her. ‘You remember I told you when we first got together you were going to have to be patient with me?’ There was nothing but understanding her blue-green eyes and he sighed. ‘But you already knew that.’

‘I figured.’ Caitlin gave a weak smile. ‘The last time you pushed me away this hard I ended up in Texas.’

Hawke grimaced but he gave a small nod. He changed the subject. ‘I’ve asked Michael to look into Lydia’s situation.’

‘Have you told Lydia that?’ Caitlin asked dryly, sitting back against the pillows as though to put some distance between them.

Hawke sighed. ‘Not yet.’ He caught sight of something in Caitlin’s expression and he cupped her cheek. ‘Hey. You have to know nothing happened between her and me. Ever.’

‘I know that.’ Caitlin said, flushing. Her eyes met his challengingly. ‘I know you wouldn’t cheat on me.’ She lifted a shoulder. ‘I’m just not sure Lydia knows that.’

Hawke’s eyes widened. ‘You think she was making a play for me.’

‘She wouldn’t be the first.’ Caitlin muttered. She waved a hand. ‘Look, maybe I’m way off base but...’

‘But you don’t think so.’ Hawke sighed.

‘It just seems convenient that she always calls you when this ex of hers isn’t there. You’ve never actually laid eyes on this guy, have you?’ Caitlin pointed out.

‘I guess Michael will find out the truth of it.’ Hawke said with finality. Whatever Michael did find, he wasn’t interested. Caitlin was pregnant and that took priority. He felt the fear rising up inside him; old familiar feelings of wanting to hide away with her from the rest of the world and simultaneously run away. ‘Are we going to tell the kids about the baby?’

Caitlin bit her lip. ‘I wanted to wait a while but if I’m going to be throwing up...’ she made a face, ‘I don’t want them worrying I’m ill.’

Hawke sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Yeah, about them worrying...’ he gestured at her, ‘they asked me if we were getting divorced.’

‘They did what?’ Caitlin’s mouth fell open. ‘Seriously?’

He nodded. ‘I told them no; apologised for not being around.’ He said sheepishly. ‘Amelia seemed to be OK with that; Nicky...’ he frowned, ‘he heard you crying last night.’

‘Oh God.’ Caitlin looked mortified. ‘I thought they were both in bed.’

‘It’s not your fault.’ Hawke said firmly. It was his screw-up. He squeezed her hand. ‘He’s just looking out for his Mom and not quite ready to forgive me; I can take it.’

Caitlin bit her lip but she didn’t argue.

He stood up. ‘Why don’t I go get you that toast and tea? I’ll grab the kids and we can tell them.’

She nodded her agreement mutely.

‘Cait,’ Hawke brushed his thumb across the back of her hand again, ‘we’re going to be OK.’

‘We are.’ Caitlin said roughly, tears shining in her eyes.

He kissed the palm of her hand and left her. He closed the bedroom door behind him and for a moment stood on the old sleeping deck of his cabin and wondered at just how close he had come to destroying his family.

He pushed away from the door and headed down to make the tea and toast. He set the kettle on the stove and the bread in the toaster before he made his way to the kid’s rooms. He found them in Nicky’s room playing a computer game.

‘Guys, can you get yourself sorted and come up to our room?’ He asked briskly. ‘There’s something your Mom and I want to talk to you about it.’

He noted the look of ‘told you so’ that Nicky shot Amelia before they nodded.

They were both washed and dressed in jeans and t-shirts by the time Hawke had assembled the new tray and he ignored Nicky’s suspicious look as he led the way up to the bedroom and waved the kids inside.

Caitlin patted the bed, and the kids hurried over. Amelia immediately made for her mother’s side and cuddled into her. Hawke realised maybe his daughter wasn’t quite as sangfroid as she appeared over the events of the previous couple of days. Nicky hovered but climbed up as Caitlin waved at him. He didn’t quite snuggle into his mother but he shuffled up until she was close enough to place an arm around him.

Hawke set the tray down and sat beside Caitlin again, placing Amelia’s feet on his lap so he could get close enough.

‘Your Dad mentioned we had you guys worried.’ Caitlin opened the discussion and Hawke almost started in surprise but he held his tongue. If she felt they needed to clear the air first, he was willing to along with her.

‘Not you.’ Nicky’s look toward Hawke clearly gave away where he felt the blame lay.

‘Nicky,’ Caitlin remonstrated gently, ‘this isn’t all your Dad’s fault.’

‘No, it’s hers too.’ Nicky rejoined, scowling.

Hawke caught Caitlin’s eyes, sharing her quiet horror at how much Nicky had been affected by events. And it was going to be up to him to fix it, Hawke realised, his heart sinking.

‘Nicky,’ Hawke wet his lips as he struggled with what to say next; this was for his son, he reminded himself. ‘You remember when Grandpa was ill a few months back?’

Nicky looked confused at the change of topic but he nodded.

‘And you remember how we told you that before you were born there was a time when Grandpa and Grandma weren’t in my life?’ They’d always been honest with the kids.

Nicky nodded again.

‘Because they were in protection with Aunty Sarah and Uncle Seb.’ Amelia piped up. ‘So you and Uncle Saint John were raised by Dom.’

‘That’s right.’ Hawke said, patting her leg. ‘Well, when Grandpa was ill, it kinda made me remember how sad I was when they weren’t in my life and,’ he stopped, took a deep breath and forced himself to continue, ‘and it reminded me that I used to be really scared about losing the people I care about it.’

‘You were scared, Daddy?’ Amelia slipped out of her mother’s hold and scrambled to hug Hawke instead.

‘I was.’ His blue eyes met his son’s briefly over Amelia’s head.

Nicky looked back at him, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

‘But instead of talking to your Mom like I should have,’ Hawke continued, holding Nicky’s gaze, ‘I tried to pretend everything was fine.’

‘Doesn’t explain why you’re spending so much time with her.’ Nicky asserted angrily.

‘Dominic.’ Caitlin warned quietly.

Nicky flushed.

‘Lydia claimed she was being stalked by her ex-boyfriend.’ Hawke explained. ‘She said she needed some help. That’s it. That’s the reason why I’ve been spending time with her.’ He held up a hand when Nicky would have said something. ‘I’m not denying it gave me an excuse to avoid being home so I didn’t have to talk with your Mom.’

‘And that’s why Mommy was crying?’ Amelia asked anxiously.

Hawke stroked a hand down her hair. ‘Yeah, because she knew something was wrong and I wouldn’t talk to her.’

‘But we have talked now.’ Caitlin said firmly, nudging Nicky’s chin up so he would look at her. ‘And your Dad and I are fine.’

‘What about Lydia?’ Amelia asked. ‘Is her boyfriend still going to make trouble for her?’

Hawke hugged her, wondering at what a sweet child they’d raised. ‘She’s going to be fine. Uncle Michael’s sorting it all out.’

‘There’s something else, your Dad and I wanted to discuss.’ Caitlin said, clearing her throat. ‘I only had it confirmed a couple of days ago but...’ she smiled, ‘we’re going to have a baby.’

Amelia squealed and launched herself at her mother. Caitlin laughed and hugged her as Amelia placed a hand on Caitlin’s still flat tummy.

‘I can’t feel anything.’ She complained.

‘Well, it’ll be a while yet.’ Caitlin said. She turned to her son. ‘Nicky?’

‘It’s cool.’ Nicky shrugged, although there was a smile hovering around his lips. ‘I guess.’

‘We’re all going to have to work together as a family.’ Caitlin said, her gaze flickering to Hawke’s. ‘Babies are hard work.’

‘I’ll be there, Mom.’ Nicky promised immediately.

‘We’ll all be there.’ Hawke added. But as he saw a glimmer of wariness in his son’s eyes that made his stomach churn, he figured he had a lot of making up to do before his son believed him again.

Continued in Part II.