Caitlin shoved the dish of god-only-knew-what that was her lunch away and tapped her fingers impatiently against the portable hospital table before pushing it away. She leaned into the pillow and winced at the soreness in her shoulder. At least the headaches had stopped the day before. It was the damned last time she was throwing herself into the path of a bullet, she thought miserably, particularly seeing the doctor had told her it would be weeks before she'd be able to fly again. Not to mention the whole debacle with her family now knowing she wasn't exactly doing a normal job. At least Hawke had stayed with her.

The memory of waking up and finding him with her had her smiling automatically and she raised her good hand to touch her lips. She shouldn't get too hopeful, she cautioned herself. Hawke was already beginning to blame himself for what happened; she could see it in his eyes and it probably didn't help that her family had also firmly placed the blame for what had happened on him despite her protests.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She sighed deeply and called out for whoever it was to enter. Hawke stepped inside Caitlin's room and saw her eyes widen in delight. He felt a twinge of guilt. He'd normally be sat with her by now but after his conversation with her mother he'd needed time to think…Caitlin was struggling to sit up, he realised and he closed the door, walked over and helped her. He shrugged off her thanks and stood awkwardly by the side of the bed, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

'How are you feeling?' He said finally.

'OK.' She smiled a little shyly at him, and noting his serious expression, her heart sank a little.

'You looked…rested,' he concluded.

Her red hair was loose around her shoulders, brushing the simple nightshirt that had replaced the hospital gown. Her face was still pale and the bandage over her forehead had been removed revealing a mottled bruise shot through with an angry red scrape but there were no shadows under her eyes and they were looking back at him clear and sharp for the first time since the shooting.

'Yeah. I'm feeling a lot better.'

'Good.' He murmured. He searched for another topic, something else to delay what he'd come to say.

'Dom get away OK?' Caitlin asked.

Hawke nodded more enthusiastically than the subject warranted. 'He called. The Lady's safely back in the Lair.'

'That's a relief.'

Hawke nodded again; he dropped his gaze. There was an awkward silence.

Caitlin picked unhappily at the creases in her sheets and sighed. 'Why don't you just come out and say whatever it is you have to say?'

Hawke's blue eyes shot to hers and she raised an expectant eyebrow. He cleared his throat. 'Your father told Michael your family were taking you back to Texas to recuperate.'

'He did?' Surprise and anger edged the words; it was news to her.

'I think it's a good idea.' Hawke folded his arms and took a deep breath. 'And I think you should stay in Texas once you're better. Maybe it's an opportunity for you to do what you said…leave LA, have that family you want.' He'd thought about it and it was for the best. She was in too much danger staying involved with Airwolf, with him.

Her eyes narrowed on him. 'You want…you want me to stay in Texas?'

He held her shocked gaze but didn't reply; he couldn't, there was a lump in his throat.

'I see.' Her expression became guarded.

'Caitlin,' Hawke took a deep breath, 'you're important to me and I don't want to lose your friendship…'

'Friendship…' She muttered under her breath.

'…but I don't want you to put your life on hold to help me find my brother.' He wanted to look away from the hurt she was trying to hide but firmed his resolve; he was doing this for her. 'You deserve better.'

'I deserve better.' She repeated dully. She stared at him and he looked away from her intent regard without saying another word. 'Well if that's the way you feel…' Her throat closed on a sob, tears flooded her eyes. She covered her face with her hands. She didn't want to cry dammit, she wanted to throw things at him but her body, too weak for her anger, was finding the only release it had…she tried to stem the tears cascading over her fingers.

The sight of her tears tore at him and his carefully constructed defences crumbled under his need to comfort her. Hawke took one step forward and then another. He sat on the bed and gently reached out to pull her towards him, her head against his shoulder, burrowing into him as she cried herself out in his arms. His arms tightened around her. Eventually she quietened, swiping her hands over her face and taking first one tremulous breath then another as she brought herself back under control, inched away from him. He let her go that inch.

'I don't know why I'm crying.' Caitlin muttered embarrassed as she avoided his eyes. 'I want to hit you.'

Hawke almost smiled at the comment.

She took a deep hitching breath and her damp eyes met his. 'You know it wasn't your fault I got shot.'

'It was my fault.' Hawke met her eyes reluctantly. 'You could have died, Caitlin.' His head bowed. 'You almost did and I couldn't live with myself if…'

She flinched as the quiet words trailed away. She stared at his bowed head for a long while, suddenly understanding what he was doing. Her hand crept up and her fingers smoothed through the dark strands, comforting him. He stirred and her hand slid over his rough cheek.

'You don't have to send me away.' Her words were a plea.

He raised his eyes to hers. 'I need you safe.'

Her blue eyes were pained; her emotions too close to the surface to hide them. 'Then I guess there's nothing more to say.' She looked away at anything other than him. 'When do you leave?'

'I think it's best,' he had to take a breath; it was though he suddenly couldn't breath, 'if I leave today.'

'Well,' Caitlin said brokenly unsure how much longer she would hold together, 'you should go.'

Hawke loosened his hold and tried to ignore the rising panic her words provoked, the pain that jolted through him; he stepped back and started to the door. His hand was on the handle when he paused, stared at the wood directly in front of him sightlessly. 'I'm sorry, Caitlin.'

Hawke didn't look back until the door was shut behind him. He could hear the sound of her crying through the wood. He rested a hand on it as though he could reach through the solid material to comfort her. The door blurred in front of him. Whether it was right or wrong, he'd made his decision; he had to live with it. He shook his head and walked away.