Work Text:
Dust Off Your Highest Hopes
San Francisco, CA 1986
“How long have you two been together?” Hawk hears Tim’s soft voice before he sees him, though the gentleness makes him pause in the hospital hallway, his heart clenching. For the last five years, he’s had a self-made rule that he doesn’t come to Tim’s work, that he never encroaches on the important work Tim does every day with AIDS patients. It’s not that he wants to bury his head in the sand about the realities of gay life right now, but he knows that he isn’t as strong as Tim and he won’t be able to handle watching people die every day. Tim calls it avoidance, but Hawk calls it self-preservation.
But today is apparently going to be a day full of exceptions. Today, Hawk’s son and his young family are flying into town and Tim had made all sorts of promises that morning that he would be out in time. His promises had involved rushed kisses and hand squeezes before it had all fallen apart. “Come to the hospital at five,” Tim had whispered against his lips. “When I see you, I’ll know it’s time to go home.”
And so here he is, fifteen minutes late and hesitant to stand in the doorway. The patient answers Tim’s question with a reverent tone to his voice and Tim hums softly in acknowledgement. Even without looking, Hawk can picture his partner’s facial features, the way they will have softened with compassion and devastation of what’s to come for another gay man whose life will be cut short due to this terrible disease. As if gays haven’t been through enough, now they face a plague.
Hawk runs his hand over his mouth and takes a deep breath as he steps into the doorway. Tim is sitting by the patient’s bed, his hands covering the skeletal hand of the mustached man who is talking about his own partner of seventeen years. To the man in bed, it’s a lifetime. Tim’s face, on the other hand, tells the story of twenty-nine years, each wrinkle and crinkly laugh line around his bespectacled eyes represent a chapter, a paragraph, a word of their story.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says softly and Tim looks up quickly, his brown eyes immediately lighting up to a warm honey color.
“I’m okay with this interruption,” the patient laughs softly and Hawk raises his eyebrows at Tim. I’ve still got it, Skippy.
“Hey, he’s mine,” Tim laughs though he throws an eye roll towards Hawk. Don’t flatter yourself. He glances at his watch and sighs, standing up. “I’ll be right back, okay?” The patient nods and closes his eyes, resting against the pillows behind him. Tim stands and walks towards Hawk, his brow furrowed and his shoulders tight. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Hawk greets him, reaching for his hand. “You told me to come get you.”
“I know, sorry,” Tim leads him out into the busy hallway and presses a quick kiss to his lips. “I just need a few more minutes.”
“Tim…” Hawk warns. A few minutes generally turn into several hours when it comes to Tim’s work, and at this point, they hardly have forty-five minutes until Jackson lands.
“Just a few more minutes, I promise,” Tim says quickly. “I just had to go over a DNR with him, Hawk. He signed it and his partner…he needed a break. He needed a few minutes to process what signing that means. I promised him I wouldn’t leave until he was back.”
“Jax lands in forty-five minutes,” Hawk reminds him without any frustration in his voice. He knows how lucky they have been to escape this virus, but there are times when he wonders what he would do if he were to lose Tim. After nearly thirty years, he’s not quite sure he would make it out of the hospital before dropping dead from grief.
“I know,” Tim squeezes his hand. “Just a few more minutes, okay? You can wait in the staff lounge. Someone brought in cookies.”
“Okay,” Hawk agrees and then releases Tim’s hand to gently cup his face. He can see the exhaustion and hopelessness in his expressive brown eyes and his heart breaks as he leans his forehead towards Tim’s. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Tim whispers with a slight tremor to his voice. “It’s part of the job, Hawk.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re okay.”
“I…later, okay?” Tim rubs his nose against Hawk’s. “Tonight. After everyone is at the hotel.”
“I’ll take it,” Hawk nods before kissing him. “But I’m going to be in the waiting room. The coffee in the staff lounge is probably three days old.”
“More like five,” Tim laughs softly and then turns to go back into the patient’s room. “Sorry about that,” he tells the patient as he returns back to his seat.
“I get it,” the patient laughs. “How long have you two been together?”
Hawk grins at the question, catching Tim’s eyes just before he lets out laugh that sounds almost boyish. He knows how Tim will answer this question, he’s heard the answer enough, but his heart can’t help but skip a beat as Tim answers, “Officially or unofficially?”
---------------
Washington, D.C. 1957
Every thing in Hawk’s brain is telling him to move. From the second he had walked into the apartment, he had known what this was going to be but now that he’s here, he can’t do it. Tim is sleeping peacefully on him, his body warm and sated, and Hawk isn’t sure he has it in him to let go, especially when Tim exhales softly and nuzzles his chest. He’s seemed so happy lately, with the new job pending and their daily meetings, and the slight smile on his lips is enough to make Hawk question everything he has believed in over the last few days.
Nothing has changed. He’s going to be a father any day now, his wife seems all too aware that he’s not being faithful, and he’s been neglectful. He never wanted to be married, but here he is after two years and already he’s starting to look more and more like the father he always hated. When Lucy had all but demanded he make her a mother, he had made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t be the man who had made his family’s lives a living hell.
Even if he had never wanted to be married, even if he had never wanted to be a father, he realizes that these are the choices he’s made and at some point, he’s going to have to own up to them. For the last few weeks, he’s desperately tried to have what he wants while also juggling what he’s supposed to want. This is normal for him, it’s what he’s long accepted his life to be. He doesn’t have the luxury of choice, and he’s never cared. Until now.
When Tim had sent him that telegram, he had hoped they could reconnect. He had fantasized about the feel of his Skippy’s mouth around his cock and and the noises he would make. But the last few weeks have been more than he ever could have imagined. Tim may have come without any expectations, but everything that’s happened has surpassed every expectation Hawk has had. And that’s why he’s currently holding Tim like he can’t ever let him go.
In the three years since he had last seen Tim, his sweet boy has matured from an emotional boy to an incredible man. At first, Hawk hadn’t been sure what to do with him, with his confidence or his refusal to fall for Hawk’s usual charm. This Skippy seemed immune to it, to the point Hawk had worried serving had actually had the intended affect and his boy was over him. But that clearly isn’t the case, not after everything that has happened.
Hawk looks down at the sleeping man and his chest tightens. He has a plan. He’s been concocting it since Tim had whispered about them being coworkers. If it weren’t for the baby that would be here any day, the idea of seeing Tim at work is enough to make him feel truly happy for the first time in…well, in three years. But it’s too risky, even if the M Unit is starting to wind down. Eisenhower’s EO still stands, and it’s illegal for homosexuals to work in the federal government.
He's been able to hide from the ban, even after being questioned in 1953. It’s not that he necessarily loves his job but it’s a means to an end. Or at least, it used to be. Now, it’s how he will support his family, and he can’t risk that. No matter how he feels about Tim, no matter how much he wishes they could escape to the villa he had dreamed of before he had become a husband and a soon-to-be father, he can’t choose Tim over all of his other responsibilities. So he has a plan. It involves him being a coward of the worst kind, but he knows what he has to do.
He just can’t bring himself to move. His fingers trail over Tim’s back rhythmically in an effort to keep him asleep, or maybe in an effort to soothe him before he inflicts the worst kind of pain. Tim’s breath fans out over his clavicle, warming him with every sleepy exhale, and his dark hair tickles Hawk’s cheek. He wants to remember this moment forever, this quiet moment before he picks the life he’s supposed to want over the life he truly wants. The feel of Tim sprawled over him, his hand holding his shoulder…if he had a camera he would take a picture.
He knows what this is, even if he refuses to speak the words. There is no doubt in his mind how he truly feels about the man beside him on the thin mattress. It’s not a feeling he’s familiar with and he’s not sure he ever wants to feel it again, if only because of the way its twisting at his gut right now. His fingers slow along Tim’s back and he turns to press one last kiss to his forehead, stamping every feeling he has on the smooth unlined skin. Tim always sleeps soundly after sex, and that’s what he is depending on, even if he wishes Tim could know how he feels in this moment, how much this is about to hurt him.
His lips fall from his forehead and then he buries his nose against the skin for a moment, trying to burn the smell of this man into his memory. Tim will survive. He will find a way to move forward and onwards, to probably fall in love someday with someone who isn’t a coward. That thought alone causes Hawk to fight a wince as he gently takes Tim’s hand and moves it from his shoulder while he begins to slide out from underneath Tim’s grasp. For the sweetest of seconds, he cradles the man in his arm, watching as he shifts in his sleep.
For a moment, Tim is suspended in air, as if his conscious and subconscious are warring with the idea of waking up. Hawk just watches him, holding his breath as the hand that had been gripping his shoulder gently trails along the chest he has loved to kiss. It’s all he wants to do now, to lean forward and kiss Tim one last time, but he knows that if he doesn’t get up now, he’ll never be able to. He starts to move off the mattress, but everything stops when he hears Tim’s soft voice call his name.
“Hey, Skippy,” he whispers softly as Tim’s eyes flutter open and then close before squinting. “Go back to sleep. I have to get to work.”
“Hmmm…” Tim breathes as he gently curls into Hawk’s pillow. “Call the office. You have an important meeting on the Hill.”
“But I actually do have a meeting on the Hill,” Hawk whispers, tears stinging his eyes as he stands. “And I can’t miss it.”
“Oh,” Tim sighs and then playfully reaches for Hawk’s bare ankle. “A few more minutes?”
“Tim…” Hawk doesn’t know how to respond at this point. He knows what he has to do, but his cowardly desertion will only work if Tim is fast asleep, if Hawk can remember him happy and soft. If he tries to change the plan now, if he tries to talk to Tim about what he has to do, then none of it will work and his last memory of the man he loves will be of him hurting him again. With every second that Tim’s long fingers gently hold his ankle, he’s losing the courage to walk out of this apartment.
“Five,” Tim tries to negotiate. “Five more minutes and then you can go to your meeting on the Hill.”
“And what will we accomplish in five minutes?” Hawk asks if he’s actually considering Tim’s offer. And maybe he is, if only because maybe Tim will fall back asleep and his plan can get back on track.
“We can probably think of something,” Tim gives him a small smirk.
“I’m sure we can,” Hawk laughs softly as he reaches forward to brush Tim’s bangs off his forehead. The expressive brown eyes soften at his touch and then Tim presses a kiss to his wrist, just over his pulse. It’s fast and Tim is probably too tired to notice that his pulse is racing, but Hawk is all too aware of it as he feels his defenses fall. “Skippy…”
“Yeah?” Tim whispers with a gentle smile.
It’s the smile that is Hawk’s undoing. It’s slow but sure, as if Tim is comfortable in his knowledge that Hawk won’t leave him, that they have been put together by some cruel higher power and it can’t be undone this time. It doesn’t matter that Hawk has a very pregnant wife at home or that he will soon have a baby, all that matters is what there is in this moment. It’s soft and seems to shimmer in Tim’s eyes and Hawk hears the words fall out of his mouth before he can pull them back. “I love you, you know that?”
“Oh…” Tim breathes, his eyes closing and then reopening. They’re honey-colored again, tears shining against the golden-brown and Hawk’s breath catches as his boy slowly nods. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Hawk whispers and then leans down to be eye-level with this incredible man. “Yeah.”
“I love you, too,” Tim says in a voice that makes Hawk think of the wonder of the first snow when he had been a boy. “You know that.”
Hawk doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know the right words to say when his brain is still insisting that he can’t do this, that he has to give Tim up. But Tim’s words feel warm around him and all he can do is lean forward to pull him into a tight hug. Maybe this is better. Maybe this is the memory he will take with him, the memory that will feed him in the years to come when he has to continue hiding who he is, when he has to pretend to love being a husband and a father. His breath hitches in his throat and he pulls back, making a show of glancing at his watch. “I have to go to work.”
“Okay,” Tim is still smiling as he sits up on the mattress. “See you later?”
“We’ll see,” he offers as he stands and walks over to his clothes. He dresses quickly, all too aware of Tim’s eyes on him. None of this is going to plan and he doesn’t know what to do next. His plan had been to leave the paperweight with Tim, so that he could understand what this meant, how much it hurt Hawk to do this. But if he leaves it now, then Tim will want to ask questions that Hawk doesn’t have answers to.
He hopes that Tim doesn’t notice his shaking fingers as he buttons up his shirt or how loosely he ties his tie, hoping he will be able to find a way to breathe again. The sound of Tim’s voice reaches him, but he can’t make out any specific words. The next step of his plan had involved destroying Tim’s life, taking everything from him in an effort to set him free from DC and more specifically, from Hawk himself. And Hawk just isn’t sure how he can do that to his sweet Skippy.
“Can you check with Osborne about my application?” Tim asks as Hawk ties his shoes. “I feel like I should be getting some information soon, right?”
“I can ask,” Hawk nods before reaching for his hat. He’s so lost in his own thoughts that he misses the sound of Tim crossing the room to wrap his arms around Hawk’s waist, his face nuzzling the back of his neck. “I really do have to go, Skippy.”
“I know,” Tim whispers, brushing his lips along the nape of his neck. “Did you mean it?”
“What?” Hawk whispers as he swallows back tears.
“What you said.”
Hawk turns in his arms slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. He could take it back. He could deal a cruel blow and set Tim up for the disappointment of what’s to come. But Tim is watching him with that furrow in his brow and he reaches up to smooth his fingers along the two lines in his forehead. “I mean it, Skippy,” he whispers and with that, he knows he can’t go to the M Unit. In a single moment, driven by Tim’s soft smile and the warmth of his body, he abandons his plan and accepts the hell that will come next.
------------
Hawk becomes a father to a tiny, perfect baby boy less than twenty-four hours later. He spends most of the night pacing with other fathers in the waiting room at Sibley Memorial until a nurse comes out to him holding a blanket wrapped baby. “Meet your son, Mr. Fuller,” she tells him and in a moment, Hawk realizes he’s in love for the second time in one day. When he goes to see Lucy, she tells him that their son is named Jackson and he sees no reason to argue. They sit together for nearly an hour, amazed at the ten perfect fingers and ten curled up toes Jackson Fuller posses. The friendly nurse takes a photo with Hawk’s camera, proudly declaring it their first family photo, and then she takes Jackson away so Mother can get some much-needed rest.
Hawk leaves under the guise of going home to shower and change, but he instead finds himself at the apartment with Tim. They sit together on the couch as Hawk tells Tim all about his little boy, who Lucy says looks like him, and Tim congratulates him with genuine excitement. When Hawk falls asleep on the couch, he is vaguely aware of Tim’s whispered “I love you” before being covered with a blanket.
Three days after that, Tim is officially cleared to work with the Hungarian Refugee Office. They celebrate at the apartment over Hawk’s lunch break, because it’s now understood that Hawk has to be home at night, every night. And for the first time, Hawk wants to be home. He is enamored with his new son, even when he is screaming and Lucy and Helen insist the first few months of a baby’s life are no place for a man. But still, he sneaks into Jackson’s nursery and makes him promises that he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to keep.
In the end, it turns out that it isn’t hard to hide at work. Tim is swamped with the Hungarian refugees and Hawk finds himself equally swamped with his own work. Tim is happy with his work and even happier to spend lunch breaks with Hawk, where they both forgo lunch in order to take turns fucking each other. And for six months, that is their routine. The locale changes when Tim gets his own apartment in Dupont Circle, but Hawk’s lunch time is filled with Tim and his evenings are filled with playing with his smiling son. He realizes too late that he has been lulled into a sense of safety.
On December first, Tim finds out that the Hungarian Refugees Office is going to be closing and then is quickly offered a position with The Office of International Affairs, where he will be working with refugees from all over the globe. Their celebration bleeds well into the afternoon and early evening and when Hawk goes home that night, he can’t imagine that he will ever want this to change. Somehow, he has everything he needs in a loving wife, a happy baby, and the man he loves. He feels more bulletproof than ever before and it’s that hubris that brings him far too close to the winter’s sun on December 23, 1957.
With only two days until Christmas, the office is already empty with people leaving early to go back to their family homes. Tim is planning to take the train to New York that evening and Hawk’s plan to take a long lunch at his lover’s apartment seems like the perfect way to send him off. Though they usually leave separately, they arrange to meet at Hawk’s office at twelve-thirty. Later, Hawk will acknowledge this lapse in judgement, but on that cold afternoon, he doesn’t see the danger brewing on the horizon.
It's 12:25 when he hears his secretary gasp and then coo in a way that can only mean there is a baby somewhere nearby. Hawk puts his pen down and pokes his head out of his office, his stomach dropping when he sees Lucy wrapped in a plaid winter coat, her hands elegantly holding their six-month-old son. “Oh, Mrs. Fuller, he’s gotten so big!” His secretary squeals as she tickles Jackson.
“I should hope so, all he ever does is eat,” Lucy laughs though she’s beaming with pride. She presses a soft kiss to Jackson’s knitted winter cap and then smiles when she sees Hawk. “There you are! Jax and I thought we would surprise you for lunch.”
“What are you two doing in town?” Hawk asks as he forces a smile. “The tree lighting isn’t until this evening.”
“Oh, I know, but I took Jax to see Santa at Macy’s,” Lucy smiles, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “He did so well. Everyone absolutely loved him.”
“Of course they did,” Hawk accepts her kiss and then lifts Jax out of her arms. His son eagerly squeals and swats at his nose and then starts his babble that Lucy swears will one day turn to understandable language. “Hi there, buddy.”
“Tell your daddy all about Santa, sweetheart,” Lucy coos to the baby, who immediately begins to babble as he tries to shove his mittened hand into his mouth.
Before Hawk can encourage his son to continue his babbling, his office door opens and in steps none other than Tim Laughlin, bundled against the winter chill but smiling. Or, he is smiling until he sees Lucy and then the smile falls and something unreadable travels over his features. “Tim Laughlin!” Hawk says in his usual cheery work voice. “Just on time for our meeting.” He turns to Lucy, expecting to see her practiced smile whenever she meets one of his coworkers but instead, she’s frowning, her eyes cold as she stares at Tim. “Lucy, sweetheart, this is Tim Laughlin, he works in International Affairs. Tim, this is my wife, Lucy.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Fuller,” Tim reaches out his hand but Lucy doesn’t take it. She’s still staring at him and Hawk is almost sure it’s with disgust. Tim drops his hand, glancing at Hawk with wide eyes but then seems to recover as he waves at Jax. “You must be Jackson.”
“He is,” Lucy nods and suddenly she’s lifting Jackson out of Hawk’s arms. “And it’s time for his nap so that he’ll be awake for the Christmas tree lighting. Hawk, five o’clock?”
“Hmmm?” Hawk looks between his wife and lover and he frowns at what he sees. Lucy’s eyes are harsh while Tim’s are downcast, staring at his shoes. It’s the first time in a long time he’s seen his Skippy looking so unsure.
“Hawk,” Lucy repeats.
“Five o’clock,” he nods at her. “I’ll walk you out.”
“That’s not necessary,” she says a little too brightly. “You have a meeting.”
“Lucy…”
“We’ll see you later,” she states before she walks out of the office with Jackson in her arms. For a moment, Hawk just stands, staring at the door she had closed. He hasn’t felt this unsure since just before Jax was born, when he had made his decision to turn Tim into the M Unit to save his marriage. But before he can think about how this might have all been different if he had just stuck to his plan, his eyes catch Tim adjusting his coat. “Tim.”
“I was just coming to tell you that I’m taking an early train out,” Tim says a little too quickly as he glances at Hawk’s secretary. “It turns out that our meeting can wait. Or might not need to happen at all. So I hope you have a wonderful Christmas with your family, Mr. Fuller.”
“Tim,” Hawk says firmly as he resists the urge to grab Tim’s hand. He understands now what’s happening, understands that Skippy is panicking and he takes a deep breath. “Let’s step into my office and just go over everything so we can keep it fresh for the new year.”
“Okay,” Tim sighs after a second and Hawk goes back into his office and closes the door behind them both.
“Skippy…”
“No, no,” Tim shakes his head. “I can’t believe how…you have a family, Hawk. A family.”
“I’ve had a family for the last six months,” Hawk frowns. “You know that.”
“I know!” Tim gasps and then lowers his voice. “I’m so…I knew this was a bad idea. I knew I shouldn’t…this is wrong. Morally, it’s probably the worst sin I can commit.”
“I thought you were past that.”
“I’m not talking about being with you or any other man,” Tim shakes his head. “I’m talking about adultery, Hawk. I’m talking about running into your wife and baby. I’m talking about…it’s wrong, Hawk. And you know it’s wrong.”
“I don’t know that,” Hawk tries as he steps closer to his lover. “Skippy. Take a breath.”
“No,” he refuses with a shake of his head. There are tears in his dark brown eyes and Hawk swallows heavily. “I love you, Hawk. You…you are my great consuming love, I know that now. I knew that…and I think you love me too.”
“I’ve told you I do.”
“I know you have. But it isn’t right. You...you’ve chosen a life, Hawk. And I can’t be apart of it,” he sighs heavily as he palms at his wet cheeks. “I knew this was going to happen when I opened your letter. I just thought I could live with it. I thought…to be with you, to love you, I could live with it. But it’s wrong and I can’t. And I was stupid to think I could.”
“Tim, it was a one-time thing,” Hawk tries, moving in front of his door to block Tim from leaving. “Lucy never comes into the District, you know that.”
“That isn’t the point,” Tim groans as he puts his hat back on. “I’m going to get an early train to New York. I’ll…I really hope it’s a good first Christmas for Jackson.”
“Tim.”
“Open the door, Hawk,” he whispers and Hawk finds himself obeying as he steps aside. He tries to reach for Tim again, tries to reassure him, but in a second, he’s gone, and suddenly Hawk fully understands what it means to fly too close to the sun before crashing to Earth. He sucks in a breath, urging himself to remain calm and reclaim his control, but he isn’t sure what his next move will be without Tim in his life.
He assumes Lucy won’t say anything and for five days, he’s lulled into a sense of calm. As always, his mind is split between his family and the man he loves, but he tries to stay as focused as he can on Jax’s first Christmas. They see the Christmas tree lit at the White House, watch as Jax rips apart festive wrapping paper on Christmas morning, and host a Christmas dinner for their friends. It’s normal and safer than giving into the depression he feels about Tim, and he supposes that, no matter what his initial plan had been, he’s ended up with the life he’s meant to have instead of what he has wanted.
But after he puts Jax down for bed on the twenty-eighth, he finds Lucy standing in their bedroom, a suitcase open in front of her. “Luce?” He frowns, walking towards her.
“Jax and I are going to go stay with my mother,” she says, her eyes on the clothes she is folding into the suitcase.
“I don’t understand,” he shakes his head.
“Of course you do, Hawk,” she murmurs as she glances at him. “You must.”
“Luce, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hawk reaches for her arm.
“Mother told me it was about a meeting of needs,” she shakes her head with a laugh. “That you love me and you will always come home to me. So, I thought I could look past it, I truly did. I thought our life could be enough.”
“Meeting of…” Hawk raises an eyebrow at her. He cups her cheeks and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Luce, you’re not making any sense.”
“Aren’t I?” She pulls back from him but maintains eye contact. “Then tell me about Tim Laughlin.”
“Tim?” Hawk frowns even as his heart picks up speed. “I work with him.”
“Hawk, please don’t insult my intelligence,” she pleads. “Tell me about Tim Laughlin.”
“Lucy, are you feeling alright?” He whispers. There must be some way to bring this back around. He doesn’t know what she knows but he can only figure it’s impossible that she knows the truth. “Tim is a colleague. And a friend. We’ve…we’ve known each other for several years.”
“Are you in love with him?” She demands.
“What?” Hawk steps back from her. “Lucy, that’s…that’s…”
“Disgusting?” His wife supplies. “Shameful? What did you say about Leonard…that he was one of nature’s mistakes?”
“Sweetheart, I don’t know if you’re tired or—”
“Enough, Hawk!” She holds up her manicured hands. “Do you love Tim Laughlin? Because he loves you. Even though he joined the army to get away from you, even though he thought time and distance would help, he still loves you.”
“What…what are you…” Hawk trails off, trying to make his mind focus for just a moment. There’s no way Lucy should know anything about Tim, about the Army or trying to get away from Hawk.
“Last year, before I was pregnant with Jackson, Tim wrote you a letter,” Lucy explains with a shaking voice. “I was packing up your apartment when he slid it under the door.”
“And you read a letter that was meant for me?” Hawk demands.
“I did,” she laughs harshly. “He said he still loved you. But he said he was going to try to find something else. And I thought, if he was giving up on you then maybe…maybe it was truly over? Or maybe it had been one-sided and he was…and then he was in your office. Then I thought of Andrew. And I thought of all your late nights. And our own married life. And all of the lunchtime appointments you always seem to have.”
“What…where’s the letter, Lucy?”
“Are you listening to me?” She demands. “I burnt the letter, Hawk. I didn’t want you to see it because I loved you and I loved the life we were building and I wanted a family. And I can look the other way if it’s just a meeting of needs. But he loves you, Hawk. Do you love him?”
“Yes,” Hawk admits as he sinks onto his bed, burying his head in his hands. “Yes.”
“What about me? Do you love me?”
“Lucy, you’re one of my best friends,” he whispers into his palms. “You mean the world to me. You and Jax.”
“But you don’t love me,” Lucy whispers with a finality that he can’t decipher. “Say it, Hawk. Tell me the truth.”
“I don’t,” Hawk takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Not the way I love Tim. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a life together, Luce. We have a baby now, we’re a family.”
“No,” she whispers. “I’m not going to spend my life with someone who doesn’t love me, Hawk. And I’m not going to fight with Tim for your love. I can’t do that.”
“Tim left for New York,” Hawk looks up with and tries to plead his case. “He doesn’t…he doesn’t want to continue…he will move on.”
“But will you?” Lucy asks tenderly as she sits down next to him. “Will I ever have your love?”
“Lucy, this is…” he shakes his head as he reaches for her hand. “None of it matters. You matter. Jax matters. Whatever I feel for Tim…”
“It matters, Hawk,” Lucy whispers. “It matters. You remember I told you about the traveling companions I met in Spain? They mattered. And it’s…I just can’t be the wife who lives without love. Or desire.”
“Sweetheart…”
“No, Hawk,” she squeezes his hand once before standing. “If you loved me…but you don’t. And I won’t spend the rest of my life looking the other way while you love Tim Laughlin. I refuse to be that person.”
Hawk just nods, if only because his throat is tight and he knows he’s losing control of whatever hold he has on his emotions. Tim is gone and now Lucy is leaving and in the span of just a few days, Hawk has lost everything. He had had a plan, an easily implemented plan that would have kept him safe from the prying eyes of the US government. Maybe he would have been unhappy but more than likely he could have learned to be happy with the life society had long ago deemed appropriate for men like him. But instead, it’s in ashes around him and he can’t figure out how to rebuild it. “Lucy,” he sighs.
“Yes?”
“Stay here,” he whispers. “Jax is already sleeping and…this is your home. Your father’s home. Stay here and I’ll leave.”
“Oh,” she breathes but smiles. “Okay.”
“May…I would like to come see you to talk about Jax,” his voice cracks at the request.
“Of course, Hawk,” she whispers. “He’s your son.”
“He is,” Hawk agrees, standing from the bed walking towards the closet. He isn’t sure where he’ll go now or what he can do. Divorce will be hard enough for both he and Lucy, but he has to do this for her. He knows he won’t be able to change her mind, but the future feels uncertain for the first time since he returned from Italy and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Despite always planning, despite always being aware of who he is and what he must hide to survive, he has failed. He’s failed as a husband, as a father, and as a lover to Tim. The uncertainty of that is enough to drive him to the Cozy Corner to find something to bury his failure in.
Instead, when he gets into his car and starts driving, he finds himself driving to Dupont Circle. Every turn he makes feels as if it’s being done by someone else, and by the time he finds himself reaching for the spare key on Tim’s doorframe, he’s feeling incredibly detached from the rest of the world. Nothing feels real and all he can do is lean his head against Tim’s door, fighting back the angry tears and the voice of his father telling him how he has never been able to hide who he is.
“Hawk?” He hears Tim’s voice behind him and he turns to see the man he loves walking towards him, his suitcase in his hand as he tries to juggle a shopping bag. “What…what are you doing here?”
“Skippy,” Hawk breathes, tears building in his eyes. “Skippy, let me in, please.”
“You have the key in your hand,” Tim nods but then manages to open his apartment door, leaving it open for Hawk as he walks into the apartment. “What’s…what are you doing here, Hawk? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know what to do, Skippy,” he whispers. He can feel himself start to crumble, finally shattering into the hundreds of pieces he has tried so hard to keep together his whole life. His body is shaking with the power of it and he sucks in a breath to try to stop the tears. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Do about what?” Tim asks gently and his head tilts to the side as he takes off his coat.
“Lucy knows,” he states. It sounds as devastating as it feels and Tim’s face falls as he quickly walks towards him. “Lucy…she knows. Who you are. What…what I am. She knows.”
“You told her?” Tim breathes. His brown eyes are wide and concerned behind his glasses and Hawk decides that if he focuses on the tortoise-shell glasses he might be able to find his footing again.
“No,” Hawk laughs. “You did.”
“Me?”
“Did you write me a letter last year?” Hawk asks, searching Tim’s eyes. “That you left at my old apartment?”
“I…yes,” Tim frowns. “You know I did.”
“No, Tim, I never knew,” Hawk murmurs. “Lucy opened it. She read it. She burned it.”
“She…she burned it,” Tim echoes, his hand traveling to his ear. “She burned it.”
“What did the letter say?”
“I…” Tim shakes his head and closes his eyes for a moment. “I wrote that I still loved you. That I hadn’t gotten over you. But that I would keep trying. You never saw it?”
“No,” Hawk sighs heavily. “But Lucy did. And when she saw you in the office…Christ, Tim.”
“Hawk…” Tim whispers, reaching a hand out to him. “I don’t…I’m so sorry.”
“She knows,” Hawk stares at the thick frames of his lover’s glasses. “She knows and she doesn’t…I don’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to go.”
“She’s left?”
“I left. I’ll go back in a few days to talk about Jax and…she said she wouldn’t compete with you for my love. I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“Oh, Hawk,” Tim wraps his arms tightly around him and brings him close. It’s all it takes for Hawkins Fuller to finally crumble. Every defense he’s ever built, every plan for concealment and opposition are suddenly gone, and he breaks down in Tim’s strong arms. He doesn’t know what to do and he’s not sure how to rebuild what has been so firmly destroyed, and even the future looks impossible. Homosexuals are hated, it’s illegal for him hold his position in the federal government, and no matter how much he loves the man holding him, he knows they can’t be together. It’s impossible. “We’ll figure it out, Hawk. We’ll figure it out.”
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And so they do. Tim carries them through the first few years of their relationship with constant assurance and an impenetrable belief that things will one day get better. It takes nearly a year for Hawk to feel comfortable leaving Tim’s apartment with him, but one day it happens and then just keeps happening. He’s not sure if anyone in the building notices, or perhaps no one cares what happens behind the closed door of apartment 302. For the first time in his life, Hawk forgets that what he’s doing is illegal and simply lives a life with the man he loves.
It takes six years for Lucy to allow Jackson to come over to their apartment, long after she’s remarried and had a daughter with her new husband. Before that, Hawk meets his son at parks or takes him to comic book stores once it seems that’s where his interests will lie. Tim never complains about being left out, but the day that Jax does come over becomes one of the best days of both of their lives. It will be years before Hawk explains who Tim is to his son, but the little boy loves Tim almost immediately and the two become enthusiastic best friends.
And before Hawk knows it, things begin to change in DC. Tim joins a local gay rights group in ’61 and by the end of the decade, it’s not unusual to see homosexual men walking hand-in-hand. The word gay is adopted at some point and suddenly, there are bookstores, bars, and restaurants that cater to gays and lesbians throughout the city. It happens at such an astronomical pace that there are times when Hawk feels he’s getting whiplash.
But the dangers still exist and both he and Tim leave the State Department in the sixties. Tim finds his calling in social work first and Hawk soon realizes that he’s a hell of a government professor. They move closer to Lucy and Jax in Northern Virginia and the life they build there ends up being too good to be true. Sometime in the mid-seventies, their neighbors start to complain, Tim’s car is broken into, and Hawk becomes determined to find them somewhere to live where homophobia and hatred doesn’t create fear in both of them. Tim tells him it doesn’t matter, that he needs to be close to Jackson. But on Jackson’s twentieth birthday in May of 1977, both he and Tim agree to follow Marcus and Frankie out to San Francisco.
And it’s there that they find their heaven. Hawk often can’t believe how open the gays are in their new home, but Tim thrives in the community. Throughout protests after Harvey Milk’s murder and gay pride parades, he and Tim finally settle, only returning to D.C. for Jackson’s wedding to a beautiful girl named Rebecca who wears floppy hats and talks about radical feminism. Both Hawk and Tim love her and the daughter she delivers in 1982 more than they can possibly express.
San Francisco isn’t perfect, and neither is the world. Hawk isn’t sure what will happen with the AIDS crisis and Tim often worries that an entire generation of gay men is being wiped from the pages of history due to the hatred from the Reagan administration. But in their home, away from hospitals and protests, they continue to figure it out.
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San Francisco, CA 1986
Hawk finishes the mediocre coffee and throws the cup in the trash before checking his watch. Five minutes has turned into ten and he’s wondering now if he should try to pull Tim away again. They’re both used to each other’s jobs, but as Hawk stares down his retirement, he wonders how he will manage when it’s just Tim working his late hours. Then again, he can’t imagine that he needs his partner of thirty years more than the men in this hospital. He’s proud of the work he does and every late night is worth it for the people who won’t have another morning.
“You did say you were going to be in the waiting room,” Tim sighs as he walks towards him. “I went to the staff lounge.”
“It’s a good to finally confirm that you only half listen to me, Skippy,” Hawk laughs as he stands from the chair and pulls Tim into a hug. His body almost immediately relaxes and for a moment, they hold each other in the middle of the busy waiting room.
“I love you,” Tim whispers into his ear. “I don’t think I’ve said that today.”
“I think it’s actually been a few days,” Hawk whispers but squeezes him harder. “I love you too. Are you okay?”
“I’ll be okay by the time we get to the airport,” Tim assures him softly. “I’ll be perfect when I get to cuddle my favorite girl.”
“I cannot believe that Morgan has declared you her favorite grandpa,” Hawk rolls his eyes. “What gave you the lead?”
“Papa Tim and Morgan have their secrets,” Tim laughs softly. “It’s a club and you currently aren’t in it.”
“Well, Pop is going to work very hard on that this week,” Hawk warns him with a familiar nudge to his hip. “Jax says he and Rebecca have news for us. I can only assume it’s another grandchild on the way.”
“Let them surprise us,” Tim admonishes softly as he takes a slow and steady deep breath. He looks emotionally spent, the double lines on his forehead deep as he tries to shake off the day. On any other day, Hawk would pick up Chinese take out and run a bath, but their home is about to be filled with the excited screams of a three-and-a-half-year-old who, quite simply, doesn’t have an off button. Hawk can only hope it will be enough of a distraction until they can find their time in bed tonight.
“Ready?” He asks softly, reaching to push Tim’s hair off his forehead.
“Ready,” Tim confirms with a soft smile that almost reaches his eyes.
“By the way,” Hawk says as he pulls Tim down the hall, “I heard your patient ask you how long we’ve been together.”
“Hawk,” Tim groans.
“What? I just think it’s interesting that you probably told him twenty-eight years when it’s clearly twenty-nine.”
“It’s not clearly anything and you know it,” Tim shakes his head fondly. “I don’t count ’57.”
“And I do,” Hawk laughs, squeezing Tim’s hand tightly. “You’re lucky I don’t count ’53 and ’54.”
“You absolutely cannot count those,” Tim gasps.
“But you’ll give me ’57?” Hawk raises an eyebrow. It’s a familiar argument, one they have every time someone asks how long they’ve been together. Tim claims there is an official and an unofficial number, but after nearly thirty years, Hawk isn’t interested in the semantics of their relationship.
“I will give you ’57 if we can go pick up our family now,” Tim laughs fondly.
“Sounds like I have the win, Skippy,” Hawk presses a quick kiss to the crown of Tim’s gray head before turning towards his car in the parking lot.