Disclaimer: I own nothing. Though wouldn't it be great if I did?
Pairing: Carlos/Sabrina, mentions of Patrick/Sabrina and Patrick/Robin
Summary: Carlos was, and if her pounding and confused heart has anything to say about it, probably still is, the first and greatest love of her life. She's always known this.
Author's Note: So, here it is. My first General Hospital fic and it's CarLina, because these two have so much chemistry and history that it makes me want to cry. I'm so excited to share this with you guys! I hope you all like it! Also, my first language is not Spanish, so any phrases or words that are not correct, I apologize profusely and I hope that I don't offend anyone.
This being said, any mistakes are mine and mine alone and reviews are always appreciated. There is a longer A/N below that may explain some things in the story. Thanks and again, hope you all enjoy! Also: HI, GH FANDOM! It's great to meet you guys! Title is taken from the song below. I also do not own that.
My secrets become your truth
One-shot
Open up next to you and my secrets become your truth
And the distance between that was sheltering me comes in full view
Hang my head, break my heart built from all I have torn apart
And my burden to bear is a love I can't carry anymore
All I have, all I need, he's the air I would kill to breathe
Holds my love in his hands
Sara Bareilles – Breathe Again
Carlos was (and if her pounding and confused heart has anything to say about it, probably still is) the first and greatest love of her life.
(She's always known this.)
She doesn't know all the details (he'll never tell her any of it, he always tells her that it's taken care of) but somehow, by some stroke of luck, Carlos doesn't get killed when he walks back into Julian Jerome's employment.
She's not exactly happy about him working for the mob (she was never quite so calm and collected about how placate this town is when it comes to the mob, it's something that goes on, quite blatantly and while there are valiant efforts to shut down the organizations, they never do) and she's a little bit ashamed at how she explodes at him when he walks into her apartment and tells her that he talked to Julian and he can go back to work.
It takes her all of three seconds to come to terms with the fact that he's going back to being a mobster or an enforcer or whatever it is he does (not that he tells her, he always did try to keep her away from danger) and she starts off in rapid Spanish. She's unsure of what she calls him, other than names that she knows her mother would likely wash her mouth out with soap if she ever heard them come out of her mouth, she's unsure of what she says to him (other than the really awful things that she regrets almost instantly), all she remembers is telling him to get out.
Carlos tries to talk, tries to explain things to her, but all she can think about, all she can picture is his pale and limp body, being supported by her door as he banged on it, blood seeping through his fingers as he tried applying pressure to his wound.
"I don't want any part of this." She tells him, hand gripping the door tightly as she pushes him out amidst his protests, "you want to play gangster, go ahead but neither me nor my child will have any part of this. You're free." She's hysterical now, tears stinging her eyes, chest clenching in pain, "get out. I never want to see you again."
She slams the door in his face and slides down, her hands against her protruding stomach as she listens to him bang against the door, pleading with her to open and "Querida, let me explain, por favor."
I care about you. I'll raise this baby as if it's my own flesh and blood.
Promises, she thinks bitterly, were made to be broken. Promises made to her, were made to be shattered.
She can't help but feel like he lied to her. And she doesn't know why that realization hurts so much.
"Look," Felix says, handing her a cup of water, "I'm not defending him…but maybe…you should hear him out."
"Hear him out?" She repeats incredulously. "What's there to hear? He's a mobster."
"Obviously." Felix concedes, "but what I mean is, what was he doing other than staying in this apartment going stir-crazy? Maybe, he was…I don't know…doing the honorable thing and facing the music. He could have died walking in there."
"I know!" Sabrina explodes, water splashing to the side as she slams the cup on the table rougher than she intended, "you don't think I know that?"
"He did it for you. And the baby." Felix finishes, "that man is so ass backwards in love with you that he faced likely death to make sure that he'd be able to provide for the two of you." He makes a sound in the back of this throat and cocks his head to the side. "It'd be cute if it weren't suicidal." He gets up and pats her on the shoulder, "you're cleaning up that mess, by the way." He says, pointing to the puddle of water on the table and then he walks away.
That man is so ass backwards in love with you.
The thing is, Sabrina knows how much Carlos loves her. She knows what he would do for her and for the baby that isn't his. She knows how anxious and, to a point, claustrophobic he was becoming, being cooped up in the apartment all the time.
Realistically, she knew that something was happening. That he was planning something. She's not stupid, she saw the signs, she just chose to ignore them. She can come up with a dozen excuses (pregnancy, work, stress, Patrick, to name a prominent few), but she knows the truth.
Even before her disaster of a wedding that never happened, Carlos was always there for her. And the thought that one-day, he wouldn't be, that he would leave her like everyone eventually does, scares her.
(This truth scares her.)
The next day, in the early hours of the morning, dressed in her scrubs and a coat that's two sizes too big for her, hat, scarf and mittens encasing her in warmth, she goes for a walk. She doesn't realize where she's going, doesn't realize where her feet are taking her, until she walks past Kelly's and the pier and finds herself staring up at a distinctly familiar stone building.
She doesn't even really think, as she opens the front door and walks up the familiar flights of stairs. Her hands are cradling her stomach and she wishes that she had opted for the elevator. She finally makes it to his floor and she stands in front of the door, hand clenched and poised to knock.
She doesn't have a right to do this. She's the one who told him to get out. She's the one who told him that she wanted nothing to do with him. That she wanted him to have nothing to do with her and the baby.
But he's the one who said he'd always be there.
When Patrick breaks your heart, I'll be there.
(Even when Patrick didn't break her heart, even when she deliriously happy, he was always there.)
And so, she takes a deep breath and knocks three succinct times. Once for him. Once for her. And once for her baby.
Her breath catches in her throat when he slides open the door, rubbing out the tiredness of his eyes. She can see the faint scar from the bullet wound on his shoulder and she idly beams with pride at her own handiwork, before she realizes that she's been staring at his naked torso for entirely too long and she bows her head, cheeks flushing (she'll tell him it's from the heat and that you should tell your Super to check the thermostat.)
She bites her lip and lifts her head, "Lo siento." She says softly. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being hormonal. I'm sorry for yelling. I'm sorry for telling you to go away. Please don't go away. Please stay. I can't do this alone.
"Oh, querida." He replies, his voice soft and his eyes full of emotion that it almost makes her stagger back. He pulls her towards him hesitantly, the wool of her coat against his body and she curls her shoulders into him. Arms hanging limply at her side.
(Everyone else is everyone else, she thinks, but Carlos…Carlos is Carlos. And that has to count for something.)
In a town as small as Port Charles, it's highly unlikely to avoid running into people. Normally, she likes it. She likes seeing the familiar faces and she likes stopping to talk to them. She likes catching up on their lives and she likes listening to them as some lament and some gush and some rant.
Except now, whenever she stops to talk to familiar people and catches up on their lives and listens as some lament and some gush and some rant, she can't help but notice how their eyes drift downwards to her stomach. She can't help but notice how they look at her, most with happiness but also with veiled judgment. (Did you hear? Sabrina's baby isn't Patrick's. It's Carlos Rivera's. Her ex-boyfriend. She slept with him on what was supposed to be her wedding night.)
She's not stupid. She's heard the whispers. She's heard the rumors. She almost wants to laugh at it all. It's almost enough to make her want to tell the truth, that this baby really is Patrick's and that she has always, always been faithful.
And isn't it funny, she thinks, how easily and quickly people can turn their backs. Before the baby, the entire town was feeling pity towards her at being jilted at the altar by Patrick in favor of his not-so-dead wife. (They say jilted and even she says jilted, but it's not the truth. The truth is far worse, because Patrick was ready to say his vows, Patrick was ready spend the rest of his life with her…and then Emma saw her mother and Patrick saw his wife and Sabrina saw the family that she would never have.)
It's not like the people in this town have reason to judge her. Her apparent indiscretion is a blip on the radar of what some have committed.
Sabrina sighs and shakes her head, well…she thinks, there goes not judging.
She should be home. She should be on her couch, in her pajamas, feet propped on the table and watching reruns of Friends, eating leftover pizza. After the shift she had, she should definitely be anywhere other than the pier, sitting on the bench, staring out at the water.
Leaning back and taking a deep breath, Sabrina watches little puffs of white air exude. It's not that she doesn't like the idea of Robin becoming Chief of Staff, after everything she's heard of Robin, she knows that she's a phenomenal doctor and would be a great Chief of Staff, it just…it means having to see her and Patrick all the time.
She doesn't really have the right to be angry or frustrated at Robin (even though, Felix constantly tells her that technically she does because the woman did come to her apartment not even a day after her supposed wedding and asked her, albeit politely, but in no uncertain terms, to back the hell away from her family), she's been nice to her. She's asked after her. She's given her advice (no matter how unsolicited it may have been) about the trimesters of pregnancy.
She understands why Robin is so beloved in the town, because she's genuinely a nice person, but it still doesn't stop Sabrina from thinking that she was supposed to be dead.
She groans and lets her head fall back against the bench. And there's the Catholic guilt she warned Carlos about. She's being selfish, after everything Robin's been through to get back to her family (and really, only the horrific of situations conjure in her mind) and she's still thinking that she should be in Robin's place. That Patrick should be fussing over her and their unborn baby. That Emma should be pressing her small hands against her stomach, waiting for any movement.
(And then she feels worse, because how many times has she seen Carlos stare at her stomach, a mixture of awe and trepidation lining his features, his fingers twitching at his sides, as if itching to reach out and touch something?)
"Sabrina?" A small light voice calls out and before she knows it, the spot next to her is occupied by Emma and her arms are thrown around her, encasing her in a tight hug.
Sabrina chokes back the tears and hugs her, hands rubbing her back. "Hi Emma."
"I've missed you. Why don't I see you anymore?"
Sabrina smiles softly, if a little sadly, "I'm sorry. I've just been…I've been a little busy. How are you?"
"Good!"
"Hi Sabrina."
Of course. Of course, because when you speak of the devil, he shall come. Or they. Guilt gnaws at her. God, her mother would be turning over in her grave if she knew half the things she's thinking. She grabs Emma's hand and helps her as she stands up and follows at a much slower pace. She gives bright smiles to both Robin and Patrick, her eyes sliding down to their intertwined hands. (She ignores the sudden pain that erupts in her chest and she wonders how long it'll be until the pain dissipates, even slightly.)
She feels a tug at her hand and she looks down at Emma. "Are you hurt?" Emma asks her. "You're walking funny."
Sabrina lets out a laugh and Robin's eyes widen, "Emma," Robin chastises gently, "that's not nice to say."
"It's fine." Sabrina says, her throat itching and closing up. She looks down at Emma, "I'm not sick, Emma. Thank you for asking though. I'm…well…" (How does one go about telling a small child that instead of being sick, she's actually pregnant with her married father's baby that she's posing as another's man child? Right. She doesn't.) "I'm pregnant."
Emma's eyes brighten, "is it Daddy's?" Her hands fly towards Sabrina's stomach, "am I going to have a brother or sister?"
Oh. Oh. God. She's going to start crying. She knows it.
"No." Sabrina says, her eyes meeting Patrick's and she looks away from the apprehension and disbelief in his eyes. "No. It's…Carlos is the father."
Emma nods, "the one with the beard?" She smiles and digs into her pocket pulling out a large gold coin. "He showed me tricks! He can do magic, did you know that?"
Sabrina frowns and gently grabs the coin from Emma's fingers, studying it intensely. She can barely hear the conversation between Patrick, Robin and Emma from the roaring in her ears.
("When did he show you tricks, sweetie?" Patrick asked, his voice laced with hardness.
"This morning, at Kelly's!"
"I was talking to Michael." Robin says faintly, "she was…it was…Patrick.")
She remembers this coin. She remembers years ago, in a different country, under the blistering sun, as he enthralled his nieces and nephews with the tricks Emma's describing. She remembers his laughter and his intensity and she remembers how when it was all done, he would pocket the coin and grab one of the kids and spin them around until all that was heard were shrieks of laughter and happiness. ("One day, Querida," he always told her, "one day, I'll show our kids all the magic in the world." And Sabrina, always, always believed him.)
She's pulled out of her memory by Emma, who tugs at her hand again. Shaking her head, Sabrina gives her the coin back. "That's a very special coin." Sabrina can hear herself say, her voice catching and she's aware of Robin and Patrick staring at her, "will you take care of it?"
Emma nods her head, vigorously. "Always." She shuffles her feet and bites her lip. "Can I come visit you when you have the baby? I wanna play with it."
"Of course." She watches as Emma skips towards her parents and watches as she edges her way between them, grabbing their hands. And because she can't help thinking that it should be her holding Emma's hand, Sabrina hastily makes her goodbyes. "I have to…I have to…go." She turns around and then stops, turning back to face them, "congratulations on making Chief of Staff, Doctor Scorpio-Drake…you're…you're going to be fantastic."
"Thank you," Robin says sincerely.
Sabrina glances quickly at Patrick and then bites her lip to keep them from trembling as she rushes up the stairs and away from the family that, for all intents and purposes, should have been hers.
She doesn't even get around the corner before she jumps back in shock and surprise at Carlos, who is leaning against the wall, seemingly waiting for her.
"You scared me!" She gasps, her hand going to her heart.
"Lo siento." He says, his eyes darting towards the direction of the pier. "Everything okay?"
No. She wants to tell him. Nothing is okay. "How'd you know I was here?"
"Felix called." He says, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather coat. "He said that Doctor Scorpio-Drake made Chief of Staff…and well…you've always loved the water." He gives a laugh and a small smile and Sabrina can't help but share in his slight grin, because she knows, she just knows, that he's thinking about the time when she confessed to him that she always wanted to be a mermaid.
"Why did you give Emma your coin?" She asks him suddenly, the question gnawing in the back of her mind.
He shrugs, hands falling out of his pockets and gold rings glinting under the light of the streetlamp. "Because she's important to you." It's a simple answer, and one she already had a feeling he would say. He reaches out a hand, "come on, Querida. It's been a long day. I'll take you home."
She blinks rapidly, nods and finds herself reaching out towards him, slipping her hand in his and interlacing their fingers. It's out of instinct and habit, when she squeezes his hand. "Yeah." She says softly, "let's go home."
She clears her throat, swirling her fork around strings of noodles from her take-out box. "I…I have a doctor's appointment. Tomorrow. It's at three. I finish my shift then and if you want to…you don't have to…Felix will gladly come if you can't make it but I just thought…it would be…God, why can't I get the word out?" She lets out a small laugh that feels a little bit forced. She looks up and sees Carlos staring at her, fork hanging from his mouth.
He takes the fork out of his mouth and places it in the box, settling the box on the table and leaning back in his chair. He swallows and Sabrina watches his Adam's apple bobble. "I can make it. I'll…I'll let Julian know tomorrow morning."
Relief floods her body and she goes back to eating her noodles. "Good. That's good…that you can…good."
They share their food in compatible silence and Sabrina tries to ignore the fluttering in her stomach and chest and throat when she sees how Carlos looks at her.
(He looks at her like she's his entire world. And Sabrina doesn't doubt that she is.)
He's carrying a bag when he walks into the room and Kelly looks up and then back down at Sabrina, giving her a wink.
Sabrina blushes and then turns to stare at Carlos as he hesitantly takes the seat next to her.
The gel is cold against her body and she jolts a little bit, gripping the edge of the chair. The monitor is grainy as the paddle moves across her taut stomach and she gasps and hears Carlos suck in a breath when the steady and soft heartbeat emits from the screen.
"Dios." Sabrina breathes. "I…I…Carlos." She can't help but look towards him, tears pricking her eyes and he nods, his eyes riveted to the screen.
"Do you want to know the sex of the baby?" Kelly asks.
Sabrina shakes her head. "No. No. I want…I want it to be a surprise." After a moment she adds, "that's okay, right?" She doesn't realize she's asking this to Carlos until he nods again.
"Yeah."
He's speechless and Sabrina laughs as Kelly shuts off the screen and wipes down her stomach. "The baby is forming normally and looks very healthy. The heart is strong. Everything looks fine. You've been taking all your pre-natal vitamins, I'm assuming," at her nod, Kelly smiles and pats her shoulder, "don't forget to schedule another appointment on your way out. Here's a picture of the ultrasound. Congratulations you two." And then she leaves.
Carlos clears his throat and reaches into the bag with one hand, taking out a stuffed yellow bunny. "On my way here…I saw this and thought…every kid needs a stuffed animal, yeah? And we don't know if it's a boy or girl and yellow is a nice, happy color and-"
"Carlos," Sabrina interrupts, her voice filled with emotion. "It's perfect. Thank you."
She looks down and blinks at their intertwined hands. She doesn't when she grabbed it (or if he grabbed hers) and she wonders how long they've been holding hands and why she isn't hastily taking it back.
Carlos helps her stand up and she looks past his shoulder, to the door and the smile drops from her face when she sees Patrick's face. He gives her a small wave, a pained smile and then leaves.
(There is still a pain in her chest when she sees him, but she's surprised to find that it's less than what it was.)
The next three months of her pregnancy fly by. She's showing more prominently and Felix is always usually at the other end of her "my clothes don't fit me anymore" rants, which he sighs and rolls his eyes at.
She still sees Patrick and Robin, of course she sees them. They all work in the same building but with the rash of shootings and stabbings and kidnappings that plague the town, they're all kept busy.
Elizabeth hands her books and answers all her midnight panicked phone calls with an empathetic ear and complete understanding.
She finds more dog eared baby magazine's and catalogues in Carlos' car and apartment and her heart flutters when she finds a copy of What to Expect When You're Expecting tucked underneath the pillow of his bed.
"So," Elizabeth asks her, as both of them and Felix are standing around the Nurse's station, going through charts, "you're happy, then?"
Felix stops looking through his chart and stares at her and down the hall; she can make out the figures of Patrick and Robin coming towards them. "Yes." She replies, "I am."
And for the first time in a long time, she actually believes it.
When she turns her head and looks at her phone, 1am stares blindingly at her. She winces from the harsh glare and drops the phone on her bedside bureau. She frowns, hands automatically going to her stomach. She doesn't feel like anything is wrong, she's trying to run through a list of possibilities as to why she suddenly was wrenched from her dreamless sleep, when she hears it. Steady banging on the front door.
She drags her body from bed and waddles to the front door, cautiously looking through the peephole. "Oh god." She says, practically ripping the door open and dragging a beaten down Carlos into the apartment.
His face is bruised. His lip is busted open, his knuckles are cracked and bloody and he's favoring his right side. She feels his ribs and sighs in relief when she realizes they're not broken, just bruised.
Felix comes bursting into the living room and stops dead at the two of them on the couch. "He's bleeding on my couch again."
"Felix." Sabrina says, fear and anxiety lacing her voice. "Get me the first aid kit and cloths and a bowl of warm water."
Felix nods and leaves.
"Who did this?" Sabrina demands. "Was it Julian? I thought you said everything was okay between you two."
"Not Julian." Carlos winces as shifts in his spot.
"Sonny? Oh god, did Sonny come after you? Carlos, you need to…I know you don't want to…but the cops, they could help."
Carlos lets out a bitter laugh and he shakes his head. "It's nothing Querida. Just…a little fight at Jake's."
She accepts the first aid kit from Felix and nods her thanks. She washes away the dried blood from his face and knuckles and she does her best to patch him together (again.) "What was the fight about?"
There's a pause and he replies, "don't worry about it."
"Who was the fight with?"
"Don't worry about it." Carlos repeats, taking her hands in his, "It's fine. I'm fine. The other guy is a little more worse for wear but he kind of had it coming to him."
She shakes her head and blows a piece of hair out of her face. "You need to stop coming to me when you're bleeding."
"You're the only one I trust." He answers truthfully.
"I know." She says back.
(She's beginning to feel as if he's the only one she can trust too. And this…this scares her.)
She stays home the next day, begging off a sick day and Felix covers for her.
She's watching as Carlos is eating his breakfast and listening to him as he talks about soccer when she feels a sudden swift kick to her abdomen. She jolts with a surprised gasp. (She's felt the baby kick before, but never so violently, never so…excitedly.)
"'Brina?" He asks, dropping his fork and coming around the table to her side.
She grabs his hand and puts it to her stomach. A second later, another kick is delivered. She winces.
"Holy shit." Carlos breathes. "Little one is going to be one fierce striker."
"I want the baby's first language to be Spanish." Sabrina blurts out. "I mean, English of course…but Spanish definitely. And…and…I want to put him in soccer and swimming and I want him to have an interest in science and he should know how to play chess. Do you know how to play chess? I don't. But we can learn, right? I want him to be healthy and happy and-"
"Sabrina. Sabrina. Stop." He cups her face and smiles brightly, "you said he."
"I just…I feel like this baby is a boy."
"Whatever it is, we'll give him or her, everything and more."
She throws her arms around him, his arms wounding around her back, the baby between them, kicking steadily.
It clicks into place for her, when she's at the Nurse's station and sees Patrick. His face is molted black and blue and his knuckles, similar to Carlos' are bandaged but she can see where they cracked and bled.
It's nothing Querida. Just…a little fight at Jake's. The other guy is a little more worse for wear but he kind of had it coming to him.
She stumbles as she pushes away from the desk and grabs him by the forearm. "What have you done?" She demands. Her body is trembling with barely suppressed rage. "It was you. Wasn't it? Of course it was you. My god, how could I have been so stupid. I should have…Carlos should have…"
"Sabrina," Patrick says, grabbing her hands, "listen to me, Carlos is temperamental and-"
"Don't." She snaps, aware of the audience they're now gathering, "don't talk to me about Carlos, because you know nothing about him. Or us. The man I had to patch up two nights ago is the father of my baby. You beat the father of my baby."
"But he's not." Patrick snaps back, his hands going to his hair. "I've done the math. I know it. Carlos isn't the father of your baby. I am. Tell me the truth. Sabrina. Please, The truth."
"Patrick? Sabrina?"
She can see from her peripheral vision, Robin, Elizabeth, Felix, Epiphany and a multitude of nurses and doctors and even patients, watching the scene unfold in front of them.
How many times did she envision this moment? How many times did she want to tell Patrick the truth? How many times did she imagine the family she could have, and quite possibly, rightfully, should have had? How many times? Too many times, her mind tells her. She could tell him. She probably should tell him because despite everything, he does deserve the truth. But then that would shatter and change not only his life, but hers. And Robin's and Emma's and Carlos'.
Carlos. Her mind flashes to him, hand wrapped around his bruised ribs and smiling at her as she flips through catalogue and goes into a bumbling mess at the sight of cribs and carriages and blankets. Carlos, who has been there for her even when she didn't want him and thought she didn't need him. Carlos, who fights with her, who challenges her, who infuriates her, who loves her endlessly, just the way she is, bushy haired with colorful rimmed glasses.
Carlos, who lied to her about a fight he had because he thought he was protecting her.
"The truth, Patrick," she starts and she can see Felix suck in a deep breath, "is that Carlos is the father of my baby. Please accept that, because it will never change." She sees Felix let out the breath he was holding and relax, his face falling into a hidden grin.
(It's the first time she says it and believes it.)
"You know," Sabrina says, her fingers carding through Carlos' hair as his face is pressed against the side of her stomach, whispering in Spanish. "I sometimes wish I took you up on that offer to move back to Puerto Rico."
"We still can." He says, lifting his head. "After you give birth. If you want to go back, we'll go back. If you want to move to California, we'll move to California. Wherever you go, I'll follow. You, me and the baby." He frowns and then adds, "and Felix. I don't think we can forget about him."
She laughs, the sound echoing in his apartment. She grows solemn after a moment and she looks down at him. "I'm not going to be a perfect little wife. I'm not going to stop working. I want to do more and learn more."
"Querida…I only want you to be you."
He moves up until he's face-to-face with her. His breath tickling her face. "I'm going to kiss you now."
Her heart flutters and the baby kicks anxiously, excitedly. "Okay." She breathes.
(When he closes the gap between them and kisses her softly and intensely, as if he's consuming her very soul, she thinks she can see the stars.)
He pulls away from her and rests his forehead against hers, his hands finding hers and interlacing their fingers as they lay, resting against her stomach.
"Carlos?" Sabrina begins hesitantly, "Te amo."
"Para toda mi vida." He responds instantly, as if the words were always on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to come out.
He goes back to talking to her stomach, whispering in Spanish "one day, I'm going to show you all the magic in the world" and the soft sound of his voice, lulls her to sleep.
(She dreams of Carlos and their baby and is filled with a sense of happiness that she thought she would never have again. Somehow, Carlos always manages to prove her wrong.)
Carlos is the first and greatest love of her life.
(She's always known this.)
So, here's my GH offering. I hope that you guys enjoyed it! I enjoyed writing it! I decided to focus this on Sabrina and her (potential, though maybe not, depending on how the show goes) journey with Carlos. Because there is so much history between them, I do think that the love she had for him didn't go away, but was rather buried because of his stubbornness from before. It's more a story of the evolution of coming to love him again and hopefully, it came off as okay. And I know, I should have had her tell Patrick the truth, but I didn't...though I probably will write something in the near future about that aspect. Don't hate me! Please!
Para toda mi vida – For all of my life (…at least I hope it is!)
I haven't watched the episode on Monday but I do think that it will be Robin appointed as Chief, because it just…it makes a little bit more sense? I guess. I mean, let's be honest, I'll kind of take anyone but Britt.
It's my first time writing GH but I've been stalking stories on here for a long time! (Oh…that sounded creepy, didn't it?) and I hope that I added some sort of entertainment for you guys! Anyways, I want to thank you guys for reading!
MAD LOVE AND RESPECT,
BB
