Chapter Two

/

"I'm not sure where to start," Robin said quietly.

"Start what?" Patrick wanted to know.

Robin rested her hand on his knee. "Start telling you the truth."

RJ stood and headed into the kitchen to grab another beer while Robin began the story.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Patrick," she offered. "There things you don't know about my family and about what being a Scorpio means. San Remo is…close to the beginning of the story."

Patrick chuckled as RJ came back into the room. "You make it sound so serious."

Robin met his gaze. "It is. I never thought you'd really need to know most of it, but…that damn post card tells me that maybe you need to know everything, starting with who our parents were and why they were…why they were murdered."

Patrick's dark eyes widened in stunned disbelief. "Murdered? Your parents were…were murdered? I thought they died in a car accident or something."

Robin nodded. "You've never outright asked me what happened to them, so I've never had to tell you the truth."

Patrick ran a hand through his dark hair. "So, why now?"

RJ pointed to the post card. "That's why. Someone is playing with us, with me. Eventually, they'll start playing with Robin and maybe even with the people we care about. We're telling you now because now you need to know."

"So, you've lied to me all this time?" Patrick asked of his wife.

Robin shook her head. "No, I've never told you an outright lie. I've omitted things."

"Robin, lies of omission are still lies," he spoke. "So, I'm going to ask now; how did your parents die?"

Robin took a deep breath. "They were murdered. My parents were WSB agents, and in 1992 one of their enemies…murdered them."

Patrick didn't know what he had expected, but that wasn't it.

/

Patrick's head was spinning. It was nearly two in the morning and he was in possession of facts he would previously have only thought possible in a James Bond film. His wife and brother-in-law had just laid out a spy novel for him, yet it was their life.

"I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around this," Patrick almost whispered.

"Which part?"

Patrick glared at RJ. "All of it. Your parents were spies for the WSB. Marriages, divorces, re-marriages and explosions and people coming back from the dead; it's all…it's all crazy."

"It's all true," RJ told him. "Every last word."

"This…this Faison guy, is he…is he still alive?"

RJ and Robin answered together.

"No."

"We don't know."

Patrick stood and wiped his hands over his face. "Which is it?"

"Mac shot at the boat Faison escaped onto in the harbor," RJ explained. "It…exploded. He and Luke Spencer saw it happen. Neither of them saw Faison get off the boat before the explosion. We're…reasonably certain he's dead this time."

"Yet we have that post card," Robin said. "It's obviously a taunt. Faison loves to taunt people."

The three went back and forth for another hour. Patrick asked questions and Robin and RJ answered as best they could. Finally, at just after three in the morning, RJ left the Drake home and headed back to his own apartment to get some sleep before his shift.

/

"You know things, don't you?" Patrick asked in the dark as he and Robin lay in bed.

"What do you mean?" she asked sleepily.

Patrick shifted. "Well, I mean, your parents were spies. I'm guessing you know how to…pick locks maybe?"

Robin laughed softly. "Yes, I do know how to do that actually. My father taught me and RJ when we were…eight, maybe."

"What else can you do?"

These were things she wished she could have kept to herself. She didn't want to completely destroy his illusions that she needed protecting. But, he asked and she had decided that when he asked, she'd give him the truth.

"My parents began teaching RJ and me hand-to-hand when we were nine," she told him. "By eleven we were both familiar with about…six different martial arts and proficient in all of them."

That intrigued Patrick. "How about now?"

Robin looked him right in the eyes. "I…Patrick, do you really…"

"…yes, I want to know," he interrupted.

She sighed. "I'm very, very good at hand-to-hand and martial arts now. I probably know more ways to…to kill someone with just my bare hands than Jason does. RJ is even better than I am."

"Kill? But, Robin, you're a doctor, a healer, not a killer," Patrick intoned passionately.

Robin rolled onto her side and rested her head on Patrick's chest. "I want you to listen to me. Yes, I know how to kill someone with just my hands. Yes, I know how to handle numerous types of firearms and how to use them with deadly accuracy. Yes, I can pick locks and get into most any room I want. None of those things make me any less the woman you married."

"What does that post card really mean?" he asked then.

Robin didn't want to think about the possibilities. "I would have said nothing until RJ mentioned that our grandmother's entire existence has been wiped clean in San Remo."

He pulled her closer. "Is it…Faison?"

"I hope not," she replied. "If it is, the devil himself is coming to Port Charles."

A chill went through the Drake's then. They snuggled closer and let sleep claim them. Despite all that had been covered that night, they had to make Christmas morning special for Justin and Emma.

They could worry about the post card another day. Or so they thought.

/

Maracaibo, Venezuela

WSB Medical Facility

August, 1996

/

"It's been more than four years, Doctor Weston," Sean Donnelly began. "Haven't you had enough time?"

Dr. Amelia Weston glared at her boss. "No, Mr. Donnelly, I have not had enough time. They were both gravely injured and I cannot simply wake them up as if nothing happened."

Sean sighed. "Keep me posted."

He stormed from the room while Dr. Weston went back to monitoring her patients.