Robin focused on the pale blue wall opposite her, mentally willing her feet to work with the rest of her body. Grasping the stainless steel bars on either side of her, she took a small but painful step forward. Inhaling deeply, she tried to grit her teeth through the muscle spasm, but her legs just weren't going to cooperate. "I am so tired of this," she muttered as she took another step, a stray lock of dark hair falling across her face.

"Come on, Rob, just a few more steps," Patrick prodded her. He stood at the end of the walking trail, focused on her every step. He had started coming to her sessions after the first week when he found out that she was having trouble. So determined in everything else she did, Robin was finding her rehabilitation particularly difficult. "As soon as you get down here, you'll get your reward."

"I don't want to kiss you when I'm sweaty, Patrick," she barked. Reaching for the bar ahead of her, she swung her legs forward for another short stride. Her wedding ring twisted on her finger, scraping against the metal. Just another thing to frustrate her, she cursed uncharacteristically beneath her breath. "The reward better be good. You have no idea how much this sucks."

"Yes, I do," he retorted. "I blew out my knee sophomore year of high school playing lacrosse. I had six months of rehab afterward before I could even step foot on the field."

Robin stopped and looked at him pointedly. "Do not compare your little lacrosse accident to me being shot. Come on, Drake, you know that it's not even close to being the same thing."

Patrick grinned as she started to walk faster. He knew that if he gave her a hard time, she'd push through the pain. There was nothing she liked more than a challenge, especially from him. Robin hated to be told that she couldn't do something or to be compared to anyone else. If she knew that Patrick had gotten through something he perceived to be as difficult, she'd be damned if she was going to fail. As she took her last step and met his open arms, she smiled triumphantly. "I see my little plan work," Patrick announced, dropping a kiss onto her dark hair. "I knew you couldn't resist a challenge."

"You didn't do this, I did this!"

"Yes, you did," he remarked. "And I couldn't be more proud. You are getting stronger by the day – the progress is incredible. In a few more weeks, you won't even need any help getting around. You'll be back at the hospital full time before you know it."

Dropping into her wheelchair gratefully, she took a few deep breaths to allow her body some much-needed rest. "I can't wait to get back to work. I'm glad that Monica has let me do a little of my research here. I think I'd go insane if I had to stay at Uncle Mac's all day. Besides, I have patients that are still relying on me. The occasional surgical consult is the least I can do for them."

Pushing her toward the elevator to take her back down to the lab, Patrick knew that she was restless in her recovery. "I know that you don't like being home, but it's really important that you give your time to heal. The last thing I want you to do is have a relapse or stunt your progress."

"Trust me, if we are going to get serious about having a baby, the last thing I want to do is go backward. I have every intention of following the doctor's orders this time," she reassured him. "So, do I get my reward now? I did finish my session."

"Yes, you did," he said. "And it's waiting downstairs." Guiding them into the elevator, he pressed the button for the third floor and waited as the lift stopped on a few floors to let people on and off. Finally, when they reached their destination, he pushed her back out of the car and down the corridor. Stopping just short of the lab, he turned her chair so that it was facing a closed door with a big red bow. "Well, here it is!"

"You got me a door with a bow on it?" she asked skeptically. "Patrick, what's going on?"

"Well, actually, that's where I come in," Monica announced. Noah, Bobbie, Emily, Mac, Maxie and Georgie came to join the impromptu party. "This is a present from all of us, Robin, but I want you to know that it was Patrick's idea."

Robin smiled at her husband. "What did you do?"

"With the help of Monica and Mac, we converted a former room into an office for our favorite resident researcher," Georgie explained. "All of us worked on it. Uncle Mac and Patrick helped build all the furniture. Monica took care of the hospital administration, and Emily worked with Bobbie to get all of your data loaded into the computer."

"Georgie and I did all the decorating. We even managed to sneak in a few of your favorite things from home into the space."

"I have an office here?" she asked, her jaw literally dropping. "You mean I have my own space to work?"

Monica nodded. "I know that you are having a hard time not being here, so we wanted to build a space to accommodate your needs. I knew if we didn't make it a surprise, you would refuse because you don't want special treatment."

"But you deserve special treatment, honey," Mac said. "You are special to all of us, and the work you do here at General Hospital is special. We don't want your work to stop while you try to get better."

"Is that why you have been so reluctant to let me come back?" Robin asked Monica.

"Partly," she admitted. "We wanted to make sure that you didn't come across our little project. And it was also because I did want your body to be in good enough shape to be able to work once we did finish it. From what Patrick says, you're coming along very well."

"Well enough, in fact," Patrick added, "that Monica has authorized you to come back part time whenever you are ready. The only requirement anyone has is that you keep it at or under 20 hours per week until you have full authorization."

"Oh, I will, I promise!" she exclaimed excitedly, reaching up to hold the hand Patrick had rested on her shoulder. Little tears glinted in the corners of each eye. Looking at the family and friends that surrounded her, she felt her heart swell with pride. "Thank you all so much."

Mac stepped forward and twisted the doorknob, revealing a streamlined office with warm, comfortable touches. The aisles around the furniture were wide enough for her wheelchair, and there was a plush couch for the afternoon naps she would invariably need while she was still healing. A new computer and three photographs adorned her desk. There was one of her with her parents during their last visit to Port Charles, another with Mac and the girls just before the hostage situation and a final one of the new Drake family on their wedding day.

"This is perfect," she gasped, pushing herself until she was behind the desk. Reaching up, she ran her fingers through the cup of freshly sharpened pencils. Files filled her inbox. Flipping through them, she saw the familiar names of her many patients. "This is absolutely perfect."

Two floors up, Dillon and Lulu found themselves in the same situation they had been in for two weeks. Three days each week, they'd sit in the same room for a couple hours, staring at each other across a table while they talked about all the things Lulu otherwise chose to ignore. Once in awhile, he'd reach across and take her hand, silently pushing her to go a step beyond her comfort level.

"Dr. Winters wants us to talk about the abortion today," Lulu said quietly, looking down at her hands in her lap. "I told her that I didn't want to, but she said that it's the one topic I've been hesitant to talk about in here."

"You don't have to if you're not ready, but I really think it would be good for you," Dillon confessed. "We've talked about it before, Lu. This time isn't any different. Just look into my eyes and have the same conversation we had before."

"But no one else…"

"She never will understand like I do," he acknowledged, "but maybe she can see something that we're not. You know that she isn't going to judge you, Lu. Even if she was, I wouldn't let her. If I thought that was the way it was going to go down, there's no way I would have ever brought you here."

"You're right," she relented hesitantly. "The abortion is the single hardest decision I have ever made, and I was so afraid afterward that I was forever going to be defined by it. I mean, Elizabeth was defined by her rape. Emily was defined by her breast cancer. My mother was defined by her insanity. Lucky has become defined by his addiction. I didn't want this to be what defined me."

"Do you still dream about the baby? I remember the first few weeks afterward when you would ream about it all the time," he said. "There was more than one time when I came in to find you screaming. I'd sit by your bed and watch you sleep until I was sure you were fine."

"I never knew that."

"I didn't want you to know it at the time. You were dealing with a lot, and I didn't want to add my confusion to the top of it," Dillon explained. "I think the worst night was when you woke up and were looking for the baby. You kept screaming at me, asking who took it. It broke my heart into a million pieces."

Lulu moved her chair closer to the table and leaned into Dillon. "That was the worst one I had," she admitted. "You held me afterward. Usually, I would have been so embarrassed to let anyone see me like that, but it felt okay with you. It felt safe."

Automatically, he reached across for her hand and laced their fingers together. "That's all I have ever wanted to do for you. I wanted to create a place where you would feel safe," he said. "In those months after the abortion, I didn't want to tell you how I felt. I clung to my love for Georgie so that I couldn't hurt you. I knew that you would naturally assume that I wanted to be with you out of a sense of duty when it was really about the fact that I was crazy about you."

"You fell in love with me," she smiled. "That's the one thing I can trust in now. I know that no matter what happens, I have you to love and support me. You are how I got through the abortion, and you're how I am going to get past this. I know that some might say that's unhealthy to be dependant on you, but it's not like that. I don't need you to get better, but I want to get better for the sake of our relationship. For you, for the future we are going to have."

"Do you still have guilt about the abortion? Does any part of you regret your choice?"

"I thought I would when you and I got together. I mean, we've talked about this. Part of my reason before was the fact that you didn't love me and that we weren't together. Now, we are in love and together, so it seems like that shouldn't have been a factor," she professed. "But the thing was, that was only a small part of it. The biggest part was that we weren't ready to be parents. Even if we had been together, we wouldn't have been ready. Neither of us was in a position where we could settle down and be married, let alone raise a child. I can't regret doing what's best for everyone involved."

"I think that's why I trusted you in the end," Dillon responded. "You were the one person in the entire situation who wasn't just thinking about themselves. Grandfather was thinking about a potential heir. My mom was thinking about the Quartermaine reputation. I was thinking about myself and how this was going to affect me. But you looked at how it was going to be for everyone, including the baby."

She smiled sadly. "And that right there is what made this okay for me," she said. "You didn't make me feel guilty after the abortion. You were genuinely concerned about me. You protected me against your family, supported me when I wanted to throw my life away and stayed my friend when anyone else would have hated me. I'll never understand how you could do that."

"I was in love with you, that's how. There was nothing to forgive, nothing to be angry about. You didn't do this to punish me. You did this for me. You did this for us. No one should ever make you feel guilty about that, including yourself."

"You know what, Dillon, I feel better than I have in a long time," she said happily. "Did you notice that I didn't hold back at all? I didn't go inside myself at all."

"You did really well, Lu," Lainey agreed as she came into the room. "In fact, you've showed an amazing amount of progress in the last few weeks since you've been working with Dillon. I know that my methods have been a little unconventional, but I had to place you in a situation where you would feel comfortable. Now, I'd like to start taking you beyond where you feel safe. I want to have a session without Dillon now. What do you think about that?"

Lulu thought for a moment while meeting Dillon's steady gaze. He nodded slightly, giving her the little boost of confidence that she needed. "I can do this."