Ten

Robin sips her café as she walks through the streets of Old Town. She had gotten here before the sun had fully risen and before many of the stores had opened and tourists began to appear. The old world European feel of the town soothed her tattered nerves this morning. It all felt like a long way from Port Charles and the complications moving home had brought into her life. For a little while she had been able to pretend that she's just a tourist here on vacation, but time passed quickly and she knows she has to make her way back to the hospital where she'll have to talk to Dylan and see the one she had left the hotel early to avoid – Patrick.

I"I'm going to be the one who doesn't walk away. I won't give up, Robin."/I

With a sigh she tosses her empty cup into a trash receptacle and walks around the Italian gothic façade of the law court and towards the gardens around the visitor's center. She had spent some time there this morning staring out over the waters of the Mediterranean Sea and thinking about nothing and everything at the same time. The hours of respite are over. She has choices to make.

>>>>>>>>>

"Knock knock?" Robin peeks her head into Dylan's hospital room. She is pleased to see that he's now propped up and the color in his face is much improved. She tells him so when she reaches his side.

"Patrick already took all the credit." He uncurls his hand and looks down at it and then back up at her, inviting her to hold his hand.

"He would." Robin smiles and complies. "Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine. As fine as I can be." He shifts slightly and grimaces. "I hate being cooped up. You know that." He looked at her intently.

She could tell he had something on his mind, that there was something specific he was waiting for her to say. She just didn't know what it was. It makes her uneasy. She looks down at their joined hands and then back up at his face. She used to be able to read him, the disconnect is unnerving.

"Did you find it?" he asks.

"The medal? I gave that to you last night." Robin frowns in concern that he might be having problems with his memory.

"Not the medal. Something else." His blue eyes implore her to understand.

Robin frowns. He hadn't asked her to bring him anything else….her eyes widen as she realized what he was referring to. He had meant for her to find her engagement ring. She blinks and swallows. Dylan sighs and his expression turns angry. "I found the ring, Dylan. Why did you want me to find it like that? It doesn't change anything." Dylan curls his fingers away from hers. "I don't understand, I thought…"

"I guess I thought that if you were reminded of the life we led, saw our bedroom, the pictures, the ring, you'd come to your senses now that you're over the hit man. And you'd realize that a playboy like Drake turned into could never make you happy." Dylan laughs bitterly. "Guess I'm still coming in second to everyone with you. That medal, that was from a race I came in second with Patrick Drake. I thought maybe it was my turn to win."

Robin's eyes fill with tears, she reaches out to touch him but he utters a sharp "Don't!" and she pulls back, stricken. Her heart pounds and her breath quickens. She hates that she is the cause of someone else's pain.

"Just get out of here. Go. You can leave with a clear conscience that your boyfriend fixed my neck and I'll be able to walk again." He let out a disgusted sound. "I thought when he showed up here looking tired and less cocky than normal that maybe you'd come to your senses, but I guess you'll always latch on to the men who hurt you."

The words cut through her, words she has heard before. "I'm sorry, Dylan. I never meant to hurt you. I never did." Her voice breaks.

"Never meant to hurt me? How did you think I would feel about you telling me that you love someone else? All that time, years, I waited for you to put the past behind you, to put your feelings for Jason behind you! I ask you to marry me and you say yes, only to turn around and shove the ring in my face with some bullshit excuse that you can't give me children when I told you that didn't matter to me!"

"I meant it, Dylan. I know you want a family. I see how you look at children. Your mother…" Her voice is choked with tears.

"Don't make this about my mother! This is about you and your self-destructive streak. Nothing else. Take the damned photo album your boyfriend left and just get out! I never want to see either of you again." He closes his eyes to block her out since he can't turn his head.

Tears are running down Robin's face as she picks up the photo album that sits at his bedside. "I never meant to hurt you, Dylan. I do love you." She waits a moment, but he doesn't open his eyes. Fighting back sobs she walks towards the door, when her hand touches the handle he speaks again.

"He's going hurt you." His voice is laced in bitterness.

Robin closes her eyes. "He might," she acknowledges.

"I might not be waiting for you when he lets you down."

"Don't wait." Robin opens the door and walks out. When the door closes behind her she clutches the album to her chest and walks down the hall. She can barely see through the tears in her eyes. She heads for the first door to the outside and slumps against the wall and collapses to the ground sobbing. She shouldn't have come. She shouldn't have. They always throw her out of their lives. She thinks of her father. Of Jason. Of Sonny. And eventually Patrick. She can't catch her breath. She feels like something inside her is breaking.

"Hey. Hey." Warm arms wrap around her body and cradle her.

Robin grasps the front of Patrick's shirt and presses her cheek against his chest. Patrick puts a hand on the back of her head. He closes his eyes as the sound and feel of her sobs cut through him.

"Shhhh." He rubs her back. "It's all right."

"I hurt him, Patrick."

"He's a big boy, he'll be fine." Patrick stands up and takes Robin with him, still holding her against him. "How about we head back to Nice and spend some time there before going home?"

Robin takes a deep breath and nods.

>>>>>>>>>

Robin once again is looking out at the Mediterranean Sea. This time she is sitting on a bench on the boardwalk of Nice. Crowds of tourists walking back and forth behind her enjoying the mix of restaurants, fancy hotels, casinos and tourist shops lining the streets leading to the promenade. She closes her eyes and blows out a breath. Patrick, she pictures his gorgeous face, has been wonderful. Since literally picking her up off the ground he has taken care of everything. Checking them out of the hotel, picking up food for them to eat on the drive, driving them to Nice, finding them a hotel and checking them in to separate rooms. He never even asked what was wrong. He just took charge and took care of her. And for once she let him without resistance. It's probably the most romantic time they've ever spent together, she admits. It was time to give him answers.

Last night she had said she didn't know if she could believe and trust Patrick, but the truth was that the one she didn't trust was herself. Finding love again was not something she thought would happen. Truth be told, it was a lot easier for her when that love was unrequited. Not that, she reminds herself, Patrick has used the "L" word. It didn't matter though, because she loved him and if she started a relationship with him now she would be raw and exposed. He would have the ability to her hurt her. And she could hurt him, this thing in her blood could hurt him.

She had been able to manage, though never dismiss, the possibility of infecting him for a short term affair. Now, long-term, the odds increased exponentially that he would become infected, no matter how careful they were. And what about when she got sick? Loving Stone and watching him die had made her who she was and she could not regret it, but neither could she imagine putting someone she loved through that. She can't imagine putting Patrick through that. Then again, they had already experienced that in a way with the encephalitis outbreak, they just hadn't been involved yet. And he wasn't the one running away.

Then again, he might very well not be around for that. He wasn't in love yet and, in fact, had never been in love as an adult. They might very well crash and burn right away. Already loving him the way she does she physically shivers contemplating the searing pain of losing him. But would losing him be worse than never having a them? That was the other choice.

She could do nothing and watch him move on with other women right in front of her. She might die inside every time she him or heard about his conquests – or worse his moving on in a committed relationship with someone else. To avoid that she could again leave Port Charles and her family and friends so she doesn't have to see it. Except she knows that doesn't mitigate the pain. Living without Jason tore at her soul for a long time. Living without Patrick doesn't even seem endurable. He was the very air she breathed now, despite her every effort to resist him and her feelings for him. If she left now she wouldn't even have the memories to keep her company.

And she would be being a really big coward. Something she had promised herself and her parents she wouldn't be anymore down in the Maarkham Islands. It definitely wasn't Patrick being the coward now because he was here, thousands of miles from home asking her to give them a chance at something he had no idea how to do.

She gets up and walks out onto the fence lined look out point and stands looking out over the water, the wind blowing her hair back. From this perspective the choice seems obvious. She either gave him a shot to prove to her he meant what he said or she cut off any possibility that they could have something amazing. Take a risk for happiness and all its attendant complications or walk away from happiness and have an easy, lonely, half-lived life and break her promise to Stone, again. The she turns back and comes back the way she came.

TBC