She felt his presence before she saw him. And what a presence he had.

Willing herself, she did not look at him but instead kept on staring at the small window and white walls that lined the corridor of the hospital, aware that he was watching her. It had been an accident. One of the lions had somehow gotten loose from its cage and while usually peaceful, mating season had not done the females temper any good and it had become ferocious. Freedom it seemed brought out the worst in caged creatures. Trowa had tried to restrain it and had done so but not without a few large bites and scratches to his body, the creature had scraped and cut him across his face and cut a main artery in his neck. The doctors were fighting for his life. He had been in the hospital room for an hour now when he arrived. The one whom Trowa gazed at longingly upon the TV, the one whom had almost killed Trowa she thought bitterly but that had been five years ago and although she was protective, hatred did not fuel well within her for very long. Especially sat outside waiting for the Doctor to arrive and tell her of Trowa's condition, be it dead or alive.

He stood beside her for a good long while as she started straight on at the blank wall, willing herself not to cry. She could see his lost and almost confused expression out of the corner of her eye, it looked like he was staring at the same point Catherine was in the wall but she knew his eyes were vacant and thoughtful, as always. He did have beautiful eyes. Demanding, stubborn and yet still very kind. Trowa often bought paper's that Quatre featured in and she had once found a stash in his room while looking for the young man one evening and had also found the small picture of the five of them pinned by Trowa's smashed mirror. 7 years bad luck she had murmured when he had accidentally broken it one morning, he had muttered that he'd already had 7 years bad luck in his life and that had been enough. She turned her head ever so slightly to take in Quatre's appearance now that she noted he was looking away and realised he had lost weight, a little too much weight if you asked her but still looked as presentable as always. The years had been good to him and he had gained height and his shoulders seemed broader, he seemed stronger. His suit was crisp, black and tailored to his powerful body. His hair was different, longer and his bangs swept to one side. Trowa had cut his hair angrily one day, she didn't question why but remembered the reports on TV of Relena and Quatre's engagement, which had turned out to be a lie conjured by the press. Trowa had started growing back his hair.

Quatre sat next to her gently and sighed, reaching over and giving her hand a squeeze. She barely knew him and he was being so forward with her but the back of her mind noted that they had a common interest, Trowa. It was nice to feel another's warmth siding her own, having not seen another soul par one nurse or two crossing her path in the quiet hallway. It was late at night now. They didn't say anything for another hour until the Doctor came and this time it was her whom squeezed Quatre's hand. "He's going to be alright" the doctor beckoned, "you can see him if you wish, he is asleep. His face is scarred and there are many more scars caused by the scratches that won't heal but he'll make a full recovery anyway" she broke then and was thankful when Quatre was there to catch her, sobbing into his crisp shirt until she could cry no longer. Why did Trowa have to suffer more pain she asked herself, wasn't he broken enough. Quatre escorted her to the room Trowa was in and let go of her as she entered, Quatre standing in the doorway. She knew he wished to come to Trowa's side and respected him for holding back. She creeped forward and looked over Trowa carefully, noting the large bandage around his neck and the machine's wrapped around him. She had no idea how long she had gazed at him before turning to Quatre. Their eyes met for the first time now and she was sure she saw him flinch, guilt propelling him to do so. She sauntered angrily over to him and stopped before him, noting how, like her brother, he looked over her instead of looking up like he had done when she had first met him. Her mouth was dry from crying but she did not need words and reached up and slapped him hard across the cheek. He seemed surprised but took it like the man he was, turning to look at her carefully. With those eyes she thought she was looking into his soul. She struggled now to find her speech.

"If you ever leave my brother again, I shall never forgive you"

It was a submission for Quatre to step forward, for Quatre to take head where he was supposed to be, with Trowa. She was sick of seeing Trowa's empty eyes, his half smile, and his obsession when it came to Quatre, his unwillingness and inability to act where the handsome millionaire was concerned. They were worlds apart but had been thrown together by a common interest; otherwise they would have never met. Or perhaps they might of. She did not believe in fate but if she did, it would be working for the two rather than against them. She was stunned when a dazzling smile broke of across Quatre's face, other people would have been confused, even perhaps angry but Quatre was smiling although there were tears flowing down his cheeks, as there were on hers. She knew then why her brother loved him so much, she doubted anyone was as understanding as the young man standing before her now. That was what made him the brilliant businessman and politician, not years of training but a desire to help and understand others when he could have so easily ignored them and sat back in a comfortable lifestyle.

"I understand"

She watched as he silently tiptoed towards Trowa and watched as a small smile broke out across his features although it was reticent with grief and pain. He stood beside Trowa's bedside for a good long moment until he reached forward his hand and trailed it gently down Trowa's face. She felt like a pervert seeing such an intimate show of his feeling as Quatre leaned forward and kissed Trowa so gently upon the forehead. She was going to leave when Quatre pulled up a chair from the side of the room before he pulled up a second and turned to her.

"But you better never leave him too Catherine"

And she smiled.