Chapter Four:

"There's another one over there," another man said, seeing Amber.

Robin's eyes opened wide and looked into Amber's terrified eyes. "No, I'm good. Whatever you need, I'm ready."

Patrick pushed Amber behind him and all but sat on her. He would die before anyone touched his niece. But Robin, no, he had to do something.

"That's better," the man said and pulled Robin roughly to him, pressing his nose to her hair and his hand to her behind. "You might be carrying something we can't see. I'll make sure that's not the case," he leered at her and touched her chest.

"Stop it," Patrick said. "Who robs a place and goes after the women? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I thought I told you to shut up," the man said. He looked at another of the guys who walked over and grabbed Amber.

"No, let me go," she cried.

Patrick jumped up and went to grab her when the butt of the gun crashed across his head and everything went black.

"Uncle Patrick?" Amber screamed as she watched him slump over.

Robin reached out to Amber and held her. "Shhh, just be quiet and everything will be okay."

The young girl sobbed in her arms and Robin held her, trying to believe her own words. She was trying to figure out what these men wanted. It was more than just a robbery, but she didn't know what was going on. She glanced at Patrick, but he was out cold. She prayed he was okay.

"Look, whatever you are going to do, you can leave her out of it. She is too young and has nothing for you. I can take care of whatever it is you need." Robin looked at the man and held his gaze. Please, let her stay with her family."

The man was quiet and then nodded, tossing Amber back to Patrick. The girl held her uncle and cried as she looked at Robin while they dragged her to the back room.

Robin stood in the shower as the memories played. She had no other choice. She couldn't let them touch Amber; she was just a kid. No, this was what was right. This was who she was. Robin flashed back to the moment she made the decision she did and she felt her tears fall and mix with the water from the shower. She knew, most likely, they wanted to rape her. It made her sick and she fought off waves of nausea as she stood there, trying to get clean.

The man threw her into a back room and walked in, a disgusting look on his face.

"You're probably right, about taking you instead. You are probably much more experienced. Take your clothes off."

Robin blanched. "No."

He walked over and grabbed her roughly by the shoulder. "What do you mean, no. I thought you said to take you instead of the kid."

She blinked back her tears and looked him in the eye. "I did."

"Then take your fucking clothes off or I'll do it for you," he went to grab her and she smacked him.

"You bitch," he sneered and grabbed her roughly by the neck, yanking her to him and slicing her arm against the metal desk in the room. She gasped as the pain shot through her arm. The man didn't seem to notice and angrily ripped her shirt apart, tossing it to the floor. She hurt everywhere, but kept her wits about her.

"Wait, please," she said forcefully.

His mouth was inches from her flesh and he looked at her. "What?"

She was terribly afraid this would backfire on her, but she had no other option. "I am not healthy and you will be risking your life by doing this."

He glared at her and she braced herself for what was to come.

"Then I'll just have to get the kid."

Shit. She was afraid of that. "She has it, too. She's my sister and we both contracted a virus."

"You're lying."

"That's your call, but I'm not," she held her hand on her bleeding arm and felt faint.

There was a commotion outside and the man turned to look when he came at her and shoved her hard to the ground. She hit her head and blacked out, but when she came to, she was alone and prayed he hadn't gone to get Amber. What had she done?

"Amber? Amber are you okay?" She screamed from the shower.

XXXXX

Patrick put some food in the oven and went to grab some extra pillows when he heard her screams from the bathroom. He ran into the bedroom and up to the bathroom door and knocked.

"Robin? Robin are you okay?" He yelled over the water. He waited, but heard nothing. "Robin?" He knocked again and still, nothing. He wasn't sure what was right, but he opened the door and stepped in, seeing her silhouette through the curtain. She was on the floor.

"Robin?" He pushed the curtain and saw her huddled on the floor, her knees pulled to her chest, her face in her knees. She was shivering uncontrollably and didn't look at him.

He reached in and turned the water off and grabbed a towel, walking in and covering her gently. "Robin? Can you get up?"

She looked at him and her face was lacking all color. "Did they hurt Amber?"

He knelt down and met her gaze. "No, Robin. They didn't touch her. You made sure of it when I couldn't," he felt his own tears come to his eyes as he realized he had been knocked out and if it weren't for Robin, who knows what would have happened.

"Are you okay?" she saw his sudden change in demeanor.

He smiled and nodded. "I'm just really thankful you're here. Can you get up? I'm worried you're getting too cold."

"I don't know if my legs work. I feel so tired," she sighed and moved to try and stand.

He reached in and easily picked her up in his arms. He felt her tense up at first, but he soothed her with his words. "You're safe now," he carried her to the bed and placed her down, making sure the towel was covering her.

"You're all wet," she said, touching his shirt. "I'm sorry."

He smiled. "I'll dry. Can you get dressed or do you need help."

She chuckled. "I think I can do it. Can you just take the plastic off my arm?"

He went to do it and she moved. "What is it?"

She felt her tears come again. "You need to wear gloves, please."

He felt like an idiot. "I know, sorry," he went and grabbed some gloves and took the plastic off.

"Thanks. I can take it from here," she said softly.

"I'll be right out in the kitchen if you need anything. I am making dinner."

"You cook?" she asked, the hint of a smile on her lips.

"Don't get too excited. I made a tuna casserole."

She raised her eyebrows. "That's kind of advanced."

"Well I don't know about that; last time I did it my noodles went limp," did he just say that?

"I'm sorry to hear that," she laughed a little and watched as he grinned at her before he walked out.

What was she doing? She had so much to figure out and so many decisions to make, but right now, being here felt safe, and that was what she needed most of all.

XXXXXX

Chapter Five:

Robin sat in the spare room for a while after her shower and tried to wrap her mind around what had happened. She pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and pulled her wet hair up into a ponytail. The smell of Patrick's casserole was coming through the door and despite everything she found her stomach growling. She also needed to take her meds and she hadn't really eaten anything, so it was time to put something in her stomach. She took a deep breath and walked out to the kitchen.

Patrick was setting the table when she walked out and he smiled when he saw her. "Are you hungry?"

She returned his smile and nodded. "I think I am."

He pulled out a chair for her and she sat down, blushing at him and not knowing why. She watched as he put the hot dish on the table and then sat down. "Would you like some wine?"

"Yes, thank you."

He poured them each some wine and they sat there, neither one saying anything.

"Is this weird for you?" she asked him.

"Nope. I always bring home women who have been held at gunpoint with me. You're telling me this has never happened to you before?"

She smiled at his joke and he grinned at her, his dimples almost blinding.

"Of course it's weird, but to be honest, I am so glad you're here. I don't think I want to be alone right now."

That surprised her. "Are you okay? Is your head okay? Did something else happen that I don't remember?"

He shook his head, his heart racing at her concern. "No, it's just been a really shitty day and I think we could both use the distraction." He realized he knew nothing about her and it was very possible that there could be someone she would rather be with. "I feel like an idiot. You don't have to stay here. Is there someone you want to call? I will be totally fine alone."

"There is no one. I would like to stay, if you don't mind," she took a sip of the wine.

"Good. So let's eat," he put some of the noodle casserole on her plate and took some for himself.

"So you're a doctor? What's your specialty?"

"Neurosurgery. I like to find out what makes people tick," he said as he ate.

She smiled. "So what have you figured out, about people and how they tick?"

Looking at her, he realized he knew nothing. "I'm still working on that."

She raised her eyebrows. "You might have a career as a chef as well. I don't find your noodles limp at all."

He choked on the wine and she laughed. "I'm sorry, are you okay?"

Smiling at how beautiful she was when she smiled, he nodded. "I'm good."

"Good."

"So what's your specialty?"

"Research, infectious disease mainly."

"Don't like to get your hands dirty?"

She frowned. "It's not that simple," she got up and carried her plate into the kitchen.

He could have kicked himself. "I'm sorry. I think I just stuck my foot in my mouth."

She took his plate and looked over her shoulder at him. "No you didn't. It's not your fault you have the mind of a cutter."

He stood up and crossed his arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Walking past him, she smiled. "Not everything has to be cut to be fixed. Not all solutions come from dissection. Some of the best and most effective treatments don't require surgery."

He shrugged. "I don't doubt that, but sometimes the best way to get rid of something is to remove it, quickly and efficiently."

She sat down on the couch and he sat on the chair opposite her, putting their wine down on the table. "Point taken."

They were both quiet for a minute and he looked at her like he wanted to say something, but he stopped.

She rested her head in her hand and sighed. "I went overseas to volunteer in Africa right out of med school. It was a once in a lifetime trip and I was working on a reclusive village in the middle of nowhere. I thought I was so smart, you know? I thought I had everything figured out and I was untouchable. I contracted a really virulent strain of malaria and almost died. I didn't know where I was or what was happening to me for many weeks. I was treated by the village doctors and they were unable to use new needles for their meds."

Patrick was enthralled by her and her story. He couldn't imagine what she must have gone through, being so far away and so sick. "I don't know how you made it out of there."

She shrugged. "I got better, and I went home. I wasn't feeling well a few months later and went through a battery of tests. That's when I found out I was HIV positive."

He was quiet as she spoke and she put her wine down and stood up. "You know, I am sure I can find a hotel to stay at until I find a place to live. You were really nice to make dinner for me."

"Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"Assume I'm thinking something that I'm not. You think you have me all figured out, but you don't know anything about me," Patrick stood up and walked to her.

She felt the heat from his proximity and her body was reacting in ways she never felt before. "You're right. I don't know anything about you. Excuse me," she said and turned to go into the spare room and pack her things.

Patrick followed her. "I'm sorry you feel like you should leave. I'm sorry you are HIV positive and I'm sorry you went through such a terrible ordeal today. I'll leave you alone, and you can relax in private, but I would really like for you to stay here where you are safe. If you want to leave I can't stop you, but I just think you should stay," he turned and walked out, leaving her alone.

She crawled onto the bed and lay down on her side, letting her tears fall and not caring. This was wrong on so many levels and she needed it to stop. She had never told anyone as much as she had told him in one short dinner. What's more, he didn't seem phased at all about her HIV. He didn't run screaming or look at her with pity. He was educated and intelligent and funny and incredibly handsome. She couldn't lead him on. She wouldn't do that. She allowed sleep to take over.

Patrick washed the dishes and tried to get her out of his mind. She wasn't interested and he didn't chase women. It was futile, anyway, they had met during a horrible experience and it was just that, an experience. She would move on and would go back to work and all will be as it was. That's what he needed.

He thought he heard something, but shrugged it off and finished putting everything away. He realized he was exhausted and just wanted to relax, so he walked to his bedroom and took a quick shower, being careful around his bruised head, and pulled on a pair of shorts before he got into his bed and turned the television on.

"Patrick?" Robin cried out into the apartment.

He sat up, not knowing if he actually heard her. "You're going crazy Drake," he said and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath.

There was a crash and he jumped up, knowing that wasn't in his head. He ran into the hallway and saw her in the dark, standing there, looking terrified.

"Robin? Hey, are you okay?" he walked closer.

"I'm sorry I've seemed so ungrateful. I was wondering if I could sit with you for a little bit," she said as her tears fell. "I'm having a little trouble with everything that happened."

He didn't think, he didn't analyze, he simply walked to her and pulled her into his arms.