Bloody Oath

General Hospital

Chapter seven


A/n: Patrick's memory of Robin is another real scene from General Hospital. Also, I have taken liberty with the Anna/Faison/Duke storyline, since I didn't really want to write in Duke Lavery. No Robet/Anna/Duke love triangle here, folks.


January 4, 2013—General Hospital, Port Charles, New York

Throughout the next few days after their initial talk, Patrick kept running into Dr. Ewen Keenan. He would appear at the door during surgery, staring at him with large, pleading eyes. He would come up behind him during lunch, and Patrick would suddenly lose his appetite. He would stand next to Patrick's locker as the neurosurgeon changed to scrubs. Patrick knew what he wanted. He wanted forgiveness; he wanted a chance to explain himself. Patrick was done giving second chances, especially when his wife was involved.

Heading to the locker room after surgery, the only hope Patrick had was that his shift was finally over, and he was going to go home, spend time with his daughter, and sleep in on Saturday. He worked afternoons on Saturday. Opening his locker, Patrick began to slip off his scrubs, tugging at the loose fabric around his chest.

"Patrick."

He jumped, turning around quickly. Who could it be now—?

Ewen.

"Dammit, can't you leave me alone?" Patrick hissed at the pale, shrunken man. Ewen leaned heavily against an adjoining locker, his hand unconsciously grabbing his bandaged chest in dull pain.

"Please, I'd like to explain," he begged. "Please let me explain. There's more that you do not know about Robin."

"I don't want to hear anything from you." Patrick snapped. "And I told you not to say my wife's name."

"If you'd just let me exp-"

"Get the hell away from me!" Patrick yelled, slamming his locker shut angrily.

"Patrick!" Suddenly, Dr. Brit Westborne was in the room, her eyes wide. "Are you all right? What's wrong?"

Patrick couldn't say anything. Thoughts and excuses swam through his mind but nothing stuck out as a reasonable explanation. He opened his locker again, dully, and finished changing.

"I'm afraid this is my doing." Ewen explained to Brit, who did not hear or see him. "I've angered your boyfriend and now he won't speak to me."

Patrick hissed, muttering something under his breath. Brit, oblivious, checked her hair in the mirror once before leaving the room. They were alone again.

"She's not my girlfriend." Patrick snapped. "According to you I'm still married."

"That's not what I hear from the hospital staff." Ewen retorted.

"What, when you eavesdrop?" Patrick rolled his eyes, sitting down on a bench to slip on his shoes.

"What is so hard to believe about your wife being alive?" Ewen was becoming exasperated. "You don't think she can come back from the dead? Look at me, I'm living proof!"

"No." Patrick stood. "You are not living. Robin is nothing like you."

"Then why do you still refer to her in the present tense?" Ewen noted. Patrick scoffed and took his coat from the hanger.

"Don't use your mind tricks on me, Ewen. Dead or not I'm not the type to talk about my feelings."

"It's not a trick, it's a careful observation. You would pick up on it, too, if you would admit to yourself the truth. Robin is alive."

"I'm going home." Patrick turned around at the door. "Don't try to follow me—oh, wait, you can't. God abandoned you."

"God never abandons what He can't help." Ewen answered evenly.

"Yeah, sure Gabriel. He took my wife away so forgive me if I'm not rushing to thank Him." Patrick was bitter, and he didn't want to look at Ewen anymore. He quickly left.


January 5, 2013—Queen's Pointe Suburb, Port Charles, New York

Patrick smiled at Robin mischievously. Her expression was nothing sort of contempt. "I would stop flirting if your Stalin-like charm hadn't driven me to seek company elsewhere." He protested, clearly enjoying himself.

"Do these lines actually work on some women?" Rolling her eyes, Robin wasn't taking any of his flippant words.

"I don't know. I haven't tried that one yet. You bring out the best in me, Robin."

Memories left Patrick as he was taken from his sleep by an incessant knocking at the front door. The doorbell rang accordingly. Sitting up quickly, Patrick checked the clock. It was six in the morning, for Pete's sake, who was at the door? He pulled on a pair of dark sweatpants and a red NASCAR tee, going to inspect. With a yawn, he stumbled down the hall and to the door, looking fleetingly towards Emma's room for a moment, hoping she wasn't awakened by the noise.

He opened the door when the knocking began again.

Robert Scorpio stood there, his hand balled in a fist, ready to knock again. There was a deep gash on his head, dry blood caking the wound. He looked as tired as Patrick, and as soon as the door opened, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion and something short of relief.

"Robert," Patrick mumbled tiredly. "You look awful."

"Yeah, so do you." Robert grumbled. "Listen, I-"

"Robert? Did you get an answer?" An unmistakable British accent interrupted the two men as Anna Devane walked up the pathway, a duffel bag around one bony shoulder. Upon seeing Patrick, she let out a sigh of relief and greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Patrick, it's been too long." Anna smiled at her son-in-law before pulling away.

"Annie…" Robert started cautiously in his infamous Australian drawl. "Don't forget what we're here for."

Anna looked down. "Listen, Patrick, may we come in? We have much to tell you, and I'd like for you to look at Robert, he's not well."

"I'm fine." Robert persisted.

"Yeah, sure." Patrick opened the door wider. "I'll get my first aid kit. You can go to the couch."

"Thank you." Anna entered the familiar home as Patrick headed past the front room. "Is Emma around?"

"Uh, she's asleep." Patrick called from the kitchen. He pulled out his first aid kit from a nearby cabinet.

"Oh. Right." Anna laughed. "Forgot about the time change."

Apparently. Patrick bit back another yawn and appeared in the family room once more. Robert and Anna had taken to the couch, and even though they often fought and were divorced, they sat close together. They seemed perfectly comfortable with each other, knowing one another's weaknesses and skills, sometimes better than they knew themselves. They had raised Robin, Patrick thought, when they were around. They understood his pain.

"Here," Patrick knelt down next to Robert, opening his kit. Robert, seeing his son-in-law preparing to attend to his minor scratch, grabbed the kit from Patrick.

"Bloody hell, I may be an old coot, but I know how to take care of myself." He growled, standing and going to the mirror near the hall. He attended to the cut himself, cringing only slightly when Anna wasn't looking.

Patrick took Robert's seat on the couch. "What are you doing here? I thought you and Duke were off to Switzerland for the weekend."

"Yes, well, clearly that didn't happen…" And so, Anna, with some help of Robert, explained her story. She went over Faison's plan and how Robert and Lieutenant John McBain saved her from sure demise and captivity. Later, Robert and Anna found the real Duke Lavery. Before they could escape, however, Robert heard a voice crying for help. He investigated, but was attacked. Anna found him bleeding and unconscious.

"So, we came back, after dropping Duke off at a hospital, of course," Robert said smugly, returning to sit in a chair. His wound was bandaged, and Patrick was impressed with Robert's precision. "We decided to come to you."

"Why?" Patrick asked. He enjoyed the story of yet another Scorpio adventure, but it was early and he was still yearning for his comfortable mattress. The sun was barely shining through the trees, which was too early to get up for Patrick, especially on his weekend.

"Well, Robert…he found…" Anna looked down, turning to Robert with a defeated look. "Robert, I don't think it's time. Not yet."

"What?" Patrick asked, growing nervous with every knowing glance Robert and Anna gave each other.

"Patrick," Robert leaned forward. "At the Swiss clinic, right before I was knocked out, I talked to her. She was as clear as crystal, right in front of me. I…I held her hand and I saw her and we spoke. She's alive."

"Who?" Patrick whispered in fear.

"Robin." Robert and Anna spoke at the same time.