Title: What I Need
Part: Epilogue
Pairings: 4+Cathrine

The sun was rising just above the edge of the window.

Cathrine blinked sleepily, stretching the stiffness from her neck as she tried to get her bearings and figure out just what it was that had woken her. Her eyes met the sterile white of the walls, so bright this early in the morning, that it nearly blinded her. Intensive care units weren't known for their cheerful atmosphere. That much she had learned from this particular visit. She hoped never to see it again.

Sliding her legs out from under her, wincing at the protest of limbs having been in one position too long, she looked to the bed. Quatre lay, surrounded by voluminous white sheets and enough equipment, it was almost difficult to see him at all. There was the IV in his arm, the nasogastric tube in either nostril, and the electrodes monitoring his vital signs. Almost involuntarily, out of a half-buried fear, her eyes lifted to the screen. She watched the green lines form the pattern of Quatre's heart, saw no irregularities, and couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped.

Since his surgery nearly two days ago, he had been sleeping steadily, with no signs of waking. The physician told her that it was natural, with the trauma his body had received and the analgesics, that he would probably sleep two, even three days. Which was also why her brother, and even each shift nurse, had told her she was better off going to a hotel to wait. But she didn't want to. She was going to stay right here, watching over him until he woke up. She didn't care if that took weeks. She was stubborn enough. And she was going to be damned if he remained unconscious forever.

She wouldn't allow it.

Finally certain her legs wouldn't give out under her, she rose on unsteady, cramped muscles, and made her way over to Quatre's bedside. He looked so pale, and there were dark circles around his eyes. Instinctively, she reached out, brushing the hair back from his face. Things like this weren't supposed to happen to businessmen. That was what the safety of their desk jobs protected them from. Only Quatre, who was involved in projects with Relena, and who was once a Gundam pilot, would be in danger of dying on a daily basis. He wasn't even a Preventer, and still...

Shaking her head, she mused aloud, "A businessman. You aren't supposed to get yourself hurt like this. And I'm still foolish enough to care about you. Enough, that I don't think I'll let you get away this time, no matter what you say."

The sun pulled higher, casting a thin stream of light across the floor. She watched it, absently fascinated with the dust dancing in the beam. Even hospital rooms had their share of dirt, she supposed. Of course, only Quatre could afford to have a room with a window. Not that she thought for one minute in his comatose state he had managed to ask for one. His name spoke volumes. He was important. Which probably should have scared her off. But she wasn't going to buy into the thought that he was above her. Strip away the money, and the name, and he was just a man, like anyone else.

Her eyes fell on him again, grew softer. "No, not just any man..."

There weren't many like Quatre.

"You need to wake up, Quatre. You have to see what they did for you. Shuttled you all the way to Earth because the best surgeon for your condition was here. You need to be watching the sun with me... You need to eat that hellish red slop they call gelatin so you can get that ugly tube out of your nose. You need to hear me tell you I care for you," she added softly, sighing, as she bent down and gently pressed her forehead against his.

She hated waiting.

He twitched.

Jerking up, she looked down at him, her heart hammering against her ribs as if it were keeping rhythm with his. There it was again. Another twitch. This time, his hand with the IV brushed her arm. She reached down and carefully squeezed it.

"That's it, Quatre. Wake up. I'm tired of having one-way conversations."

His throat felt dry, as if it were stuffed with cotton. He was aware, vaguely, of something coming out of his nose, a weight on his right side, and a gentle pressure on his left hand. His head felt heavy as well, as if it were filled with rocks and then padded with more cotton. It was difficult to force his eyes open, difficult to think past the muddled state of his mind, and even more difficult to attempt to talk. But he sensed it was important that he pull himself from his dreams. Something was tugging at him.

Slowly, he blinked, caught sight of a stark white ceiling and bright lights, before slamming them shut again. The light hurt. As much as he wanted to wake up, he almost felt like giving up the fight and falling back into sleep. He would have too, if a voice hadn't prodded him, sounding irritated and nervous all at once. It was a female voice, one he was familiar with. As annoyed as it sounded, he knew he wanted her to stay. He liked the lilt, the pitch of her tone, and the way she formed words.

"Quatre Raberba Winner, you open your eyes right now. I've got important things to discuss with you."

He wanted to smile.

Swallowing, he forced his eyes opened, and made out the blurred form sitting above him. He was suddenly very thirsty. He didn't think he could do much talking without a drink.

"Cathy..." he managed. He could see her completely now. She looked so very tired, but so very beautiful. Just the sight a man wanted to wake up to.

"Quatre," and the relief and joy in her tone were unmistakable.

He felt like someone had handed him the greatest gift of all.

"You... look... pretty," he replied, faintly.

She laughed, a half-nervous, half-pleased sound. "Is that all you can say? You just wake up and you..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

"Could I please have... water?"

She looked to the pitcher sitting near his bed. It was supposed to be for her, but she didn't think it could hurt him too much. Filling a cup quickly, she placed a straw in it and settled it between his lips. He drank slowly, before carefully reaching his hand up to push it away.

"I thought you'd never wake up," she confessed, setting it aside.

He drank in the sight of her smile, before asking, "How long?'

"Two days. You're in a hospital on Earth. Only the best for Mr. Winner."

He let the last comment pass, knowing she probably didn't mean it as an insult. "What did..." he paused, giving his throat a rest. "What did I have done?"

"You had a broken shoulder and a collapsed lung. Relena... she's very grateful. If she didn't have her own responsibilities, she would have been here too."

He closed his eyes briefly. "The signing? How did it go?"

She smiled again. "It went. Relena oversaw it. They prayed for you... It was moving. Delegates of Earth and the colonies bound together. I only wish it hadn't taken something like this to spurn them into motion."

He relaxed. That was it, then. It had all been worth it. Now, he had other things to attend to. The colonies and the Earth would have to wait.

"Cathrine, I'm sorry."

His eyes were on her now, blue and intense, dulled only by the amount of sleep and the narcotics still flowing in his blood.

"I did what I thought... was best. I shouldn't have."

"Quatre," she replied firmly, "that's all behind us now. If you promise not to order me around without my input, I'll promise not to overreact when you do so," she added teasingly, offering him a smile.

He laughed faintly, and then grimaced, as the act awakened pain in his chest.

Cathrine, concerned, pressed her hand to his arm. "Are you all right?"

He nodded. "I'll be all right. I just need the nurse."

When she tried to move, his hand closed over her arm.

"I didn't forget. I care about you. Can we..."

"Make a go of it?" She supplied, bending over to press her nose to his.

"I was hoping."

So was she.

"If you think, for one red hot minute, I'm going to leave after I almost lost you, you can think again. You're stuck with me. At least for as long as it works," she added.

He touched her face. "I want it to work for a very long time."

She closed her eyes, smiling. "So do I."

He shifted his head, pressed his lips to hers. They were rough, and dry from breathing with his mouth open, but she still kissed him back. All that mattered right now, was that he was awake, and they were going to stop being so ridiculously stupid about one another.

"I'll get the nurse for you now."

"And hellish red gelatin?" He asked, as she straightened.

Amazement reflected on her face. "You heard that?"

He nodded. "Some things... I think you were saying to me while I was dreaming. But I heard. Thank you."

She shrugged, almost with embarrassment. "I didn't mind staying here with you. I was almost about to force you awake."

He smiled, refrained from laughing though he wanted to, and replied, "If anyone could, it would be you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she responded, hand on the door.

He watched her go, closed his eyes, and found he could forget about the splint on his shoulder and the pain in his chest. All he could see were her eyes, and the way she had looked when he told her he cared for her. That was enough. This was enough to begin. And when he was discharged from here, he thought they might take another vacation. One that lasted longer than a week. One that had no assassins or surprises. One that was just the two of them.