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The Call

Part Three: I Wouldn't Change a Thing

The storm came seemingly out of nowhere, like a car spinning out of control, around a corner like a bat out of hell, shooting into an unsuspecting fellow driver. Somewhere in between the silence and the raw words of love and brutal truth, the town had been crowned by a dark cloud. Raindrops smeared the windows carved into the doors leading to her balcony. Lightning lit up the sky at random moments, an echo to the thunder that lashed at the night like a whip.

It only took a few minutes, but just as it started to settle down, her electricity went right down with it. And since Robin was using her land line, she lost her connection with Patrick as well. She didn't have enough time to debate on whether or not to call him back, though, as it took a mere thirty seconds for her cell phone to light up, his name appearing on the caller ID.

"Hey, sorry about that. My electricity just went out," she explains into the phone, walking over to the window to peak outside at the wreckage. "Is yours still on?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe it's a good thing, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"Things were getting kind of…heavy."

"That's the point though, right? Or did I misunderstand the rules of the game?"

Moving to light the candle on her coffee table, Robin strikes a match and places it to the wick, carefully pulling it back and blowing one flame out as another ignites. Reaching for the forgotten pillow on the floor beside her couch, she stretches out on her rug and lays flat on her back, resting her head against it. Biting her lip in thought, she looks up at the ceiling.

"It is. And I guess…no matter what we talk about, it's bound to make us sad, right? We're talking about us…when there is no us anymore…"

If it was possible, the shattered pieces of her heart that remained jagged and worn inside of her broke a little more at her own words as she spoke them. And what made the ache even greater was the very real possibility that he had been hurt just as much by them; though she couldn't see his face right now, she could imagine the look of utter torment that was surely sketched upon it. It was the kind of anguish that only a man in love could suffer.

"I'd prefer to think about when we were, if you don't mind…at least for a little while. Otherwise, I'm not sure I can take much more of this."

"Okay," she agrees, twisting a strand of her hair about her fingers absentmindedly. "But I just need to say one more thing."

"What?"

"It's not your fault. Well, not entirely your fault anyway…" Taking a deep breath, she starts over. "I know…I know I've done a real good job of making you think that it was all your doing. That you failed me in some way. That because you couldn't or wouldn't have a baby with me it meant that you never really loved me. And it's not true. Not even close. When we were together…and even now, when we aren't anymore…you make me feel more loved than any person ever has before in my whole life." Swallowing down her fresh onset of tears, she continues on, just above a whisper. "We quit on each other. We broke our own rules."

"Walking out is acceptable, giving up is not," he softly recites from memory. In that moment, she can see them in his old room, her own voice saying the words…taste the sweetness of the kiss that had sealed the deal.

"They sounded simple enough at the time," she attempts to joke, failing miserably. "Patrick, I just…I just don't want you to feel guilty. You shouldn't. I don't want to change you. Who you are…it's why I fell in love with you. The good and the bad. I just…thought you should know that."

"Thank you," Patrick replies, his voice unsure. "And for the record, I feel the same way about you. I wouldn't change a thing. You're as close to perfect as a person can get, Dr. Scorpio."

"Oh, you mean I'm not perfect?" Robin chides, smiling in spite of herself, and their current situation.

"Uh, sorry, but any woman that squirts ketchup on top of a steak cannot possibly be perfect."

"Oh, but a man that puts half a bottle of ranch on his salad is? I'm sorry, doctor, would you like some salad with your dressing?!"

"Hey, you can never have too much ranch! And when did I say that I was perfect?"

Rolling her eyes, Robin laughs. "Oh, please! Mr. Ego?"

Chuckling, he concedes. "Yeah, yeah."

"Hmm," she hums, her spirits suddenly high. She missed this.

"I miss this," he says, as if he's reading her mind.

"Me too."

"Your lights still off?"

"Yeah. They probably won't be back on until morning. That's what happened the last time anyway."

"That sucks."

"Yup."

"Hey, remember that one night? The blackout?"

"Like I could forget that," she huffs. "It was quite an eventful night."

"Yeah, I acted like a jerk, but somehow managed to get you to feed me anyway."

"Like I said then, you were allowed. You had a lot going on. That's not really what I remember anyway…"

"What do you remember?"

"I remember how wonderful you were with April. I remember how amazing you were to her…and to me. I remember laughing with you…eating chocolate cake with you…dancing with you…"

"I remember you telling me that I could never hurt you…how you kissed my hand…I wanted you so damned much. The way you looked at me, I…I was lost. It scared me to death…"

"I remember you coming to my door and looking all flustered…telling me in your own way to give you time. I laughed it off and tried to make it insignificant, but…it wasn't. I was falling in love with you, and all I wanted was for you to fall in love with me."

"I was…I just…couldn't say it. I wish I would have. You have no idea how much. Especially now. We -" Patrick stops, swearing under his breath. "We wasted so much time. Not just then…but before. And that was my fault. Because I couldn't be honest with myself and admit that what was going on between us was more than I bargained for. No - no…that 's a lie. I knew. I knew what was going on between us. I knew way before we ever went to that cabin that you meant more to me than anything, anyone did or had since my mother died. I just ran away from it. Just like you said I did. And now look at us -"

"That doesn't matter now, Patrick. We still would have ended up here," she interrupts, sadly.

"It does matter. Don't you see, Robin? If it only meant one more day - one more day that I could have told you that I loved you. One more day that we could have lived together. One more time that I could have kissed you…made love to you, knowing how I felt about you…embracing it and you and maybe even making it a little bit harder to let go."

"How?" She laughs humorlessly, rolling over onto her stomach. "How could this possibly get any harder than it already is? Tell me, Patrick, because I'd really like to know!"

It was rhetorical question, so it didn't surprise her when he merely continued on without answering her. "That day in the cabin…I'd never experienced anything like that before. Not with anyone. The way you felt…the way you feel…it's like you were made for me to touch you…like I was made to touch you. You're the only woman I've ever made love to."

"You always made me feel beautiful. Sexy. Certainly nothing that I ever thought I was or could ever be because of my HIV. Maybe even before that. No one ever made me lose control like you. I felt free…alive. Safe to do anything I wanted…be anything I wanted. But mostly…just me. I could be me and not be afraid of it."

"It was never just sex for me, but I loved being close to you in that way."

"I'm sure the hospital supply closet, my lab and just about every surface of your apartment would have to agree with you on that," she teases, blushing.

They had been one of those insatiable couples. If they were fighting, makeup sex soon followed. If they weren't, it was part of their daily routine - like taking a shower together every morning or eating Mr. Chang's every Friday night. And oddly enough, it only got better over time. Each experience seemed to be more powerful, passionate and memorable than the last. To say she missed being with him would be an understatement: she'd gladly give up chocolate cake or Mocha Fudge Ice Cream Bars for the rest of her life if it meant she could have one more night with him; feel the weight of him on top of her, the gentle yet strong feel of his hands on her body, his hungry, searching lips on her skin…the utter perfection and unbelievable pleasure of having him inside of her.

His mind must have been entertaining the same thoughts, because it's not long before the silence is disturbed by the clearing of his throat. "Umm, maybe we should -"

"Change the subject?"

"Yeah."

"Good idea," she raves, suddenly fully aware of the lack of cool air in the room.

There is silence on both ends as both sides contemplate where to take the conversation next. Again, it's Patrick that speaks first.

"Okay, I've got it."

"What?"

"I want you to tell me about Jason and Carly."

Stiffening in reaction to his suggestion, Robin raises up on her elbows and furrows her eyebrows in confusion. "I already told you about Jason."

"No. Not everything. You've told me the good, but you skip right over the bad. And the history with Carly is only in bits and pieces. I want it all. I want to know what that bastard did to you to make you leave your home, your family and run to Paris and stay there for seven years."

"Why? Why now?"

"Because I want to know. I think at one point I deserved to know, but since we're no longer together, I'll just say want. And need. I think it's part of what kept us at a distance, even when we were a couple. A big part."

"Patrick -"

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"Ye - yes -" she stumbles over her words, wanting desperately to leave the past in the past. "But -"

"Tell me, Robin. Please. You said it. You made the rules. You said anything and everything."

Pondering his question, she suddenly thinks of one of her own. "Okay, Patrick. You win."

"I do?"

"Yes, you do. I'll tell you about Jason."

"And Carly."

"And Carly -"

"Oh, no. There's a 'but' isn't there? I can feel it coming."

Robin can't help but laugh at his apprehension. "You're absolutely right, Dr. Drake."

"Alright, let me have it…"

"I will tell you about Jason and Carly - if YOU promise to tell me about your mother."

To be continued…