· A/N: I can't thank you all enough for your reviews, follows and favourites, it means a lot to me. My thanks again go to the wonderful RufflesParasol for her help, and persuading me that this fic is good enough to post. Thanks chick! Here is chapter two. I'd love to hear what you think, Enjoy. I am also on twitter InquisitiveDrea - come say hello :)
"What no hello? No, 'how are you?' Where's my hug Regina?" He says, "In fact, just the latter, the former doesn't matter. I have travelled a long way y'know." I smile at his words and step towards him instantly, into his waiting arms. He wraps his arms tightly around me, squeezing my waist and I feel myself returning the tightness of his embrace.
Who could really say how much time should pass before a hug became awkward – you never can really tell can you? I eventually attempted to untangle my hands from around his neck, but it was futile, he just hung on tighter. Stepping on his toes shocks him enough though for me to wiggle my right hand out from between our bodies.
"Hey," I said, somewhat sternly, trying to encourage him to back off a little.
"What?" he replies, "I've really missed you Regina," he says as he captures me tightly against his body again, nuzzling his head down into the crook of my neck.
"I need to breathe Robin."
He abandoned his vice like grip on my body and grabbed my hand instead.
"It's been a long time," he said, "I didn't realise how much I had missed you until you were in my arms."
"Smooth, Robin, what are you doing here?" I said trying to wriggle my hand out of his grasp. He wasn't usually this touchy-feely, it was disconcerting.
"Well Dr Mills, what I am doing here must remain a surprise, I am under strict instructions not to reveal my true intent to you," he grinned at me.
"What on earth are you talking about? What's going on?" I question, as I almost have to drag my hand out of his.
"I have been recruited, if you will," he smiles mischievously at me, "to take part in something very special, something which I think you will love, if you'll relax. Would you just please sit down?" he says annoyed at my fidgeting.
I walk over to the sofa beside him and clumsily knock some books off of the arm, by accident, as I sit down. I feel nervous that he's here in the flesh and I've no logical explanation for that.
"You know I hate surprises, can you just tell me what's going on?" I come close to pleading.
"I know you love some surprises, like in the mornings-" I cut him off by slapping his knee, he laughs uncontrollably for a few seconds. "No, I'm just kidding, you'll love this one! But I told my 'recruiter' that I wouldn't arrive until 3pm and that gives me a little over two hours to explain it all to you – see I pre-planned this, aren't you proud?" He checks his watch "No wait, 90 minutes. Not that it'll take that much time," I glare at him harshly and he holds his hands up in a 'hey don't blame me' gesture.
"Well come on then, tell me."
"NO!" he shouts all too loudly. I jump back a little startled by his raised tone. "First we are going to have a catch-up, Skype is all well and good, but it's nice to be face to face for once. I do believe it has been three years old friend." I rest my chin on my hand and turn to watch him – if we only use 10% of our brains and it is believed that we have a psychic capability somewhere in the remaining 90% I couldn't make it work – I had no idea what he was up too.
"I've brought some recent photographs of Roland to show you, he's growing up so fast, he has changed a lot since you last saw him," he says as he bends down to open his 'man bag'. I smile.
He pulled out a big leather bound album and perched it on his lap, I made to grab it but he swatted my hand away.
"We can look at them together, come closer," I huff out a sigh and shift slightly closer to him. He opened the first page of crisp white paper with 'My family' etched in a cursive gold font. I smiled brightly, internally though; my heart ached - like it always did.
The first photograph was like lightening striking the ground, quick, unexpected and only happens once. It wasn't of Roland. It was the actual ultrasound picture I'd given him all those years ago in the college bar, the edges frayed and the image faded - the night in which everything changed for me. He turned the page.
We sat there for a long time, laughing at the photos, some brought tears to my eyes. Particularly the ones of Henry's birthday parties when he was a small child, before Robin moved; I was also surprised to find a few old photos of me and Robin together at college functions.
At some point during the hour or more that we sat there, my head found its way to rest on his shoulder, an unconscious movement, his hand resting on my knee. When we had finished 'cooo'ing' and 'aaaahhh'ing' over his sons' many adventures, he turned and kissed my head.
"Well it's about time I told you what all the fuss was about isn't it, birthday girl?" he said turning his head slightly.
"I can't believe I forgot it was my birthday tomorrow!" I said, falling back against the sofa.
"Well, isn't it lucky, that you have a fantastic Son, that has planned everything so expertly, I don't know where he gets it from," he winks and smiles.
"I am," I say. He looks perplexed. "Very, lucky." He smiles shyly and starts twirling the ring on the middle finger of his left hand.
"Well, Henry decided to combine your birthday celebrations with a reunion of old college friends. I thought it was touching, probably the only reason I was invited."
"God Robin, don't say that!" I say, horrified at his words. He patted my knee as he stands. I feel the chill of the room envelope me as he rises, I already missed the warm body that had been sitting beside me.
"So who's coming?" I asked, cringing slightly.
"Hmmm, that m'lady, will be a surprise." He smiled devilishly.
Reaching down he grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet, we stand staring eye to eye; me trying to 'death stare' him into revealing the guest list and his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Come'ere." he pulled me close into a tender, gentle hug. "Happy Birthday-for tomorrow," he said pulling back and looking into my eyes, he then quickly kissed my lips. So quickly I wasn't sure if I had imagined it. I stand in the middle of my office with my fingers slowly ghosting over my tingling lips.
"You're a chancer Mr Locksley, nice to see some things don't change."
"You'd be disappointed if I hadn't done that, go on admit it!" He looks so serious I can't help but dissolve into laughter, he soon joins me. His phone starts to ring and he excuses himself from the room.
0o0
I was indeed grateful for the banality (as I thought it was), that interrupted my day. Mary-Margaret was right, my bad, pensive mood changed into one of pure happiness. I returned to the sofa with my laptop perched on my lap. Caught up in a nostalgic mood I clicked open my videos folder and waited. A few minutes later Robin returned with two steaming cups of coffee.
"Careful, it's hot," he cautions, handing me a cup.
"I thought you were expected?" I question him.
"That was your little Prince on the phone, I told him I was delayed at the moment and I would be there in plenty of time. He seemed satisfied by that, plus I'm rather enjoying spending this time, alone, with you, too much to rush away." I raise an eyebrow suspiciously, at his emphasis on 'alone, with you.'
"I have a few videos of Grace and Henry singing that was too big to e-mail, do you want to see?" I say nervously (I still couldn't put my finger on why), adjusting the laptop on my lap as I kicked my killer heels off and pulled my legs up and underneath me.
"With you? Always." he replies, it is like he is looking right into my soul with his penetrating gaze.
I couldn't process the seemingly hidden meanings to some of the things that he was saying. It was confusing, but lovely. I can pretend for a while, I decide. We've never, in the time we've known each other, spent time together like this- well not since college. It is long over-due and I intend to cherish it. We have always been friends, for all the years I have known him. He was the only person who was truly there for me when Daniel left me alone, and later, when I had Henry.
Robin moved closer to me, his arm stretching out along the back of the sofa, his hip snug against mine. I turn to look at him.
"Smooth move, what is this? The 80's?" I say, he smiles and places his hand on my shoulder as he pulls the laptop off my lap.
"I would like to be able to watch my Godson too," He looks at me quietly for a few seconds, then he shocks me by pulling me tight against his side, I began to pull away; but he won't let me.
"Stay right here, for once, please indulge me." I look at him quizzically for a moment and then hit play on the video; he kisses my head and we watch 30mins worth of new videos of his godson that he's never seen before.
0o0
Nothing lasts forever; it just has to last long enough. In all of the time I have known Robin I don't think we've ever spent quiet time like this. Just the two of us, sitting together, sharing our unique and unbreakable connection; and I don't expect we ever will do again. Turning my head slightly I look up and study his face, his hand is cupped over his mouth, his eyes filled to the brim with emotion. I see tears glisten and threaten to fall; I pause the video and put the laptop on the floor. Pulling myself out of his embrace, I turn my body fully towards him; his hand still cups his mouth as if he's trying to stop the tears from falling.
"Hey," I say stroking his face lightly, "What's wrong?" He bites back a sob as his eyes meet mine.
"I've made a right cock up of everything haven't I?" He grabs my hand tightly within his.
"What on earth are you talking about Robin? You have a wonderful life, a gorgeous wife - who even I like," sometimes, I think to myself," - an amazing son, who is so talented it makes me sick. How could you not be proud?" I smiled. He didn't. Uh oh.
I waited, hoping my silence would encourage him to fill the void – it didn't. He held my hand tight, and stared off into the distance.
"You were all bright and breezy not so long ago Robin, what on earth is the matter. Tell me, tell me now," I was firm, perhaps too firm?
"I was so happy to see you that I had forgotten - for that short time - the thoughts and feelings that have been overwhelming me recently." He looked away and down, ashamed.
"I think... I think it's back..." He almost whispered.
"What is?" I ask the question I already know the answer to, NHL and I'm not talking about hockey, but I couldn't face lending it a voice. "How do you know?" I all but whisper.
"I don't know for certain, I just have a feeling... I know something's wrong, it has been for a while. I'm scared; I don't know what to do." He turns away from me; I inhaled deeply, trying to stay calm and focused.
"Okay, so, we don't know for certain, unless you've became a psychic Mr. Locksley so, we will rely on medical science, shall we?" he nods.
"Do you trust me?" I ask.
"Yes," he answers immediately, "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to do some bloods and send you for an immediate MRI scan – certain privileges of this job you know," I force a smile I didn't feel, trying to reassure both him and myself.
I get up to make the phone call and return to sit by his side. Then the thought strikes me, where was his wife? Why was he here, talking to me? Why travel thousands of miles? Where was Marian? So I ask.
"Where is your wife Robin, where's Marian?" I clarify; trying to hide the fear that has begun to seep into my voice. "Have you told her?" Now I can see how heavy his eyes are with worry and stress, dark circles and pale gaunt skin that I hadn't noticed before.
"Ah my lovely wife, she's been somewhat distracted recently. Initially I thought it was the stress of work, she's had a few big high profile cases of late. Last Monday my fleeting suspicions were confirmed; y'know when you suspect something, but are still surprised and shocked to find out that it's true? Yeah, that was me last week." I nod along, knowing all too well the shock of that type of realisation, the one where the truth has been staring you in the face all that time. I know what that feels like.
"What happened? You don't need to confide in me, if you don't want too, but I'm here." I say gently.
"The client she was 'defending' on several counts of murder – I don't know if you've heard about it here, across the pond, but it has become clear he was involved in some bad stuff, not just the murders. That was the only thing the Crown could get him on; rumour among the College campus is the 'highly qualified' chemistry professor was in fact manufacturing and selling the purest- if you can call it that - methamphetamine the United Kingdom has ever seen! A real surprise I can tell you, yet even more so, my darling devoted wife has been shagging the guy for the last 20 years!" He springs from the sofa angrily and wanders towards the window, he stands staring out at the hospital garden, bright with Spring bloom, twirling the white ceramic plant pot that contained the orchid 'he'd' given me many moons ago – the first Mother's day present from Henry.
"I'm so sorry Robin, that's awful, what are you going to do?" I cross my legs, clasping my hands firmly in my lap trying to quell my rage towards Marian. I never liked the woman, but I wasn't going to tell him that, especially not now. He stands quietly for a few minutes before replying.
"I knew something hadn't been right for the last few years, we'd drifted apart; didn't spend any time together, didn't have sex or really talk y'know? I just thought we'd fallen out of love and was desperately trying to deny that fact, to myself. Or perhaps we both were, caught in a rut, a routine neither of us envisaged nor wanted. Truth is, I don't know if I ever really loved her – or perhaps I did in some small way, but our relationship was a mistake from the get-go. I was trying to forget someone and she was trying to hide a relationship with someone else."
"You don't mean that," I say as I rise from the sofa and walk towards him. "You're hurting, it's understandable, but trust me, don't diminish the love you shared with your wife. I know it hurts; but try to remember the good times, the happy times. Don't make it all about the bad. I know what she did was unforgivable – I have a feeling I might know all too well what you're going through. Trust me when I say this, don't waste your time hating her, you'll only end up hating yourself more." I say as I wrap my arms around his waist from behind, the need to comfort him overwhelming me.
"You see Regina, that's just it; I don't hate myself, nor her. I feel free – as if I've just been released from a long prison sentence. Now I can finally acknowledge my feelings, my ambitions; admit what I want from life. If I get the chance, that is." He clasps his hands around mine that rests against his stomach.
"I'm not saying I didn't care about her, I did and do. I always will, I suppose. Her little revelation though, has just helped me to realise that I married her for all the wrong reasons. I'm not angry and I'm not bitter. It's over, which is fine with me, I won't lie and say it didn't sting – finding out that I, her husband, have in fact been the other man for our entire married life..." he said, taking in a deep breath, "but my pride will heal. She is still the Mother of my son."
I smile against his shoulder, relieved by the sense that he didn't have the hatred boiling inside him like I did when Daniel left. That kind of hatred only internalises itself and you end up hurting yourself mentally, if not physically, as a result.
"Come, sit, and I'll take some blood," I find myself missing the way in which I felt when our bodies were pressed together - safe. That feeling that I have never experienced with any other soul before, or since. As if with him, I was complete. How ridiculous, I think, trying to shake the thought out of my head.
I retrieve what I need from the supply closet next door; pushing the trolley back into my office, I observe him as he sits on the sofa, head bent, and hands raking through his hair. He looks so scared.
I sit down beside him on the sofa, at an angle, gathering all the required paperwork and I pick up my pen.
Date of birth: 11th April 1979
Treating physician: Regina Mills.
I fill out the tests I want done, I also check that I have the correct vials; I glance at the check list and give the instrument tray a cursory once over.
You should have in front of you: blood collection tubes, a tourniquet, cotton balls, bandage or medical adhesive tape, and alcoholic wipes. Make sure that your blood tubes and blood culture bottles have not expired.
All present and correct. Tick.
I bite my lip in silent contemplation; Robin has been the only constant in my entire life, the only one to never really leave me. I know logically I should be thinking like a Doctor, but I can't seem to turn off the torrent of 'what ifs' firing through my mind.
Standing, I walk over to the sink to wash my hands and to put on the sterile gloves.
I return to the sofa, retrieving a pillow from the trolley and place it on my lap. I take his arm, placing it on the pillow, turning it palm up. I wrap the tourniquet around his upper arm, tightly, just above his elbow. Our eyes meet, the emotion emanating from the man is one of utter fear. Running my hand down the length of his arm I tap his wrist comfortingly.
"Can you make a fist for me?" I ask and he does. I begin patting his skin gently, looking for a suitable vein. I find one and trace it with my finger to encourage it to dilate. Swabbing the area with an alcohol wipe I automatically say, "This might sting a little," its muscle memory and I almost roll my eyes. The needle enters the vein quickly and blood begins to fill the tubes, one by one. Once all the tubes are filled I place them inside the clear plastic envelope and seal it with my now free hand.
I place a cotton ball on top of the needle, applying slight pressure as I pull it out. "Can you put some pressure on that while I find a Band-Aid" I say.
"I'm-"
"You're allergic," we both say at the same time, the ghost of a smile appears on his face, "I'll get you a piece of tape, hold on a second." He almost gives me a full smile, not quite his genuine crooked smile, but close enough.
I tear off a piece of medical tape, avoiding Robin's thumb and I cover the cotton ball, fastening it securely to his arm; my fingers find their way to his wrist rubbing soothing circles.
"What are you testing for?" he enquires.
"FBC's, U's & E's, LFT's & Clotting," His blank stare tells me he doesn't know, "To check your white and red blood cells. Your platelet count and how well your liver and kidneys are functioning, this is all a precaution." I smile, hopeful.
0o0
I find myself nervously pacing up and down the corridor outside of the MRI suite, tense and worried, torn between going back to my office or marching right into the observation room to watch. I know I am not supposed to try and read scans of any kind before they are complete, nor should I attempt too. If I see something I didn't like the look of I might break down and I can't afford to; Robin needs me to be strong.
Fear of the unknown is often worse than facing the reality of any given situation. Fear is that strange 'filter' that every single one of us are born with. It's not something we learn, it's built into our genetics. It can cause all sorts of problems; damage confidence, self-esteem, relationships, happiness and more.
That invisible psychological barrier that is fear, the primary attribute in you, that is stopping you from communicating confidently. Like kryptonite to superman as fear is to us. Fear is the acid that eats away at confidence. Fear is the Achilles of self-confidence.
Fear isn't an emotion I welcome into my life; however it seems I have no choice than to greet it and roll with its punches. That deep gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach, my heart racing at 100 miles per hour, feeling like everything is fading and blurring. It's a natural response to any given situation that is out with the 'norm'.
Fear of the unknown is all well and good, you have mentally prepared yourself for the possible situations in which you might encounter it; you're waiting on that feeling of bile rising into your throat. It's when fear surprises you, quickly in a way in which you never could of imagined, that is, when it is worse. You're not prepared for it, every single system in your body shuts down and all you can focus on is that one thought, that one situation.
I have experienced many types of fear in my life, each one worse than the last. I don't quite know if that has anything to do with the different situations I've found myself in, or diminished memories, little bits and pieces falling into the deep dark abyss.
This time however, it was emotional fear that was paralysing me, about Robin. Mentally rooting me to the spot, making me unable to focus or to think.
I turn back to take another lap of the corridor and the door opens. Robin wanders out with his right hand behind him trying to keep his hospital gown closed at the back - an attempt at preserving his modesty no doubt. Our eyes meet and he smiles.
"I bloody hate that machine, all that noise, all the while I am acutely aware of what it could mean. I really wish I didn't have the knowledge that I do." He says and I laugh at the look on his face as his gown nearly gets away from him.
"Why don't you go and get changed, so we can get out of here?" I say bluntly. I don't want him to know what I am about to do. I find my eyes firmly fixed on the slither of skin of his rear end, which is peeking out from the hospital gown as he walks away.
Pushing open the door Robin had just come out of, I enter the small corridor that leads to the MRI machine. I pull the heavy steel door closed behind me – designed to keep the magnetic field in and any contaminates out. Making my way across the corridor I stop at the first open door, stepping inside I see a workstation fit for a space shuttle, computer monitors and various buttons and controls scatter across the six-foot desk, I see images of 1mm slices of high resolution scan's sorting themselves together – like building blocks, layer by layer at a time. It takes a while for all the data to form a shape that even vaguely resembles a human body. I see black of fat, arteries and muscle and the white of fluorescent bone; I can't see enough detail to work out which part of the scan is coming to life before me. Turning towards the technician I say;
"Elena this is a high priority case, how fast can you get me the results?" Hoping against hope I still have some friends left in this building, at least in radiology.
"Ah Dr. Mills, I didn't see you there. Do you mean that nice young English gentleman who was just in the scanner?" I nod. "Well, I have an urgent neurology case which takes precedent I'm afraid after that I'll sort his scans out ASAP," the elderly English or perhaps Welsh - it was hard to tell - woman informed me.
"Would you be so kind as to phone me with the results? What kind of time frame are you thinking?" I prodded, I didn't want to chance my luck, but I was desperate.
"Well, I can't promise you it'll get done before 6 tomorrow. Do you want me to forward the scan results to anyone else?"
"Yes, I want Dr Marino to check them over; he's waiting on your call. Said he was available to come here if need be. Will you save them in PDF and e-mail them to me when you can? Or really any file I can read from home? I know you don't owe me anything, and it has been a while since I was last down here, but I would be eternally grateful." I say hopeful.
"Of course, anything for you, now if you'll excuse me I'd better get a wriggle on, this work won't do itself, sadly." she replied.
I smiled as I left, returning to the outer corridor just in time to meet Robin, who had just exited the changing rooms.
"Are we ready?" he asks.