Chapter Five:
Robin went back into her office and sat down. She realized her whole body was shaking after her confrontation with Patrick and she just needed to take a minute and breathe.
She was heartbroken that he was HIV positive. She wished, more than anything, she could give him something to make it go away. She knew just what he was going through and she saw so much of herself in his reaction that it threw her.
She probably should have been nicer to him. He wasn't different from a lot of patients who came in. He was scared and he viewed the life he always wanted to be over. She knew that, but there was something about him that just got to her and she didn't like that.
Taking a drink of her juice, she jumped when there was a knock at her door. She walked over and opened it, smiling at Dante.
"I was going to head out for the night, unless you needed anything, he said.
"No, that's fine, thanks for everything."
"Will we see you tomorrow night for dinner?"
She smiled.
"I'll be there. If Lulu isn't feeling up to it, just let me know."
Dante smiled and nodded.
"She has been planning this dinner party for a long time. I think we'll have it no matter what."
Robin laughed.
"Got it. I'll see you tomorrow."
She closed the door and chuckled as she walked back to her desk. There was another knock and she walked back over.
"What did you forget?" she asked as she opened it. She saw Patrick standing there.
"Dr. Drake?"
"So formal?" he asked her.
She stood at her door, not allowing him in.
"Can I help you with something?"
"Can I come in?"
She sighed.
"Why?"
He was stumped.
"Because I would like to apologize."
"It's not necessary. Sometimes a doctor and patient don't match. No harm done. Good luck to you," she said and went to close the door when he put his hand up and stopped it.
"Do I need to call security?" she challenged.
"No," he sighed. "I'm just asking for a minute."
She looked at him and he felt like he should look away. Her eyes were so probing. He felt naked and it made him blush.
"You have five minutes," she said and moved for him to walk in.
He nodded and she closed the door behind him. He sat down on the couch and saw the blanket and scrubs on the floor.
"Did you sleep here?"
"Do you want to spend your five minutes asking about my sleeping habits?"
"Maybe."
"Fine. Yes, I slept here. My ride left me stranded at the ER and I was tired."
"Sorry about that."
She was silent.
"Is your head okay?"
"I'm fine. You have a minute left."
"Can I take you to dinner?"
"No."
He was stumped.
"Time's up. Have a good evening," she stood up and walked to the door.
"Robin," he began.
She didn't know why, but she felt tears fill her eyes.
"Please go."
"What is it?" he saw her eyes were wet.
"Nothing," she shook her head and he stood up.
"Okay, I'm sorry," he said and went to walk out when the room began to spin. He saw her reach for him as he passed out.
"Patrick?" Robin half caught him as he crumpled to the ground. "Shit!" she said as she held his head and reached to grab a pillow to place under him. She held his face in her hands and rubbed his cheeks.
He blinked and slowly opened his eyes, the brown of her eyes showing nothing but concern.
"Look at me," she said and grabbed a penlight, checking his pupils.
"I'm fine," he said and went to sit up.
"Slowly," she said and he sat up and leaned against the couch. She got up and grabbed a bottle of water before she sat down and handed it to him. She watched as he took a long drink.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'll go now."
She took his hand in hers and checked his pulse.
"What have you eaten today?"
"What?"
"Eaten, you know, food? What have you eaten today?"
He sighed.
"Nothing."
"And you took your cocktail?"
"Always."
"Give me your keys," she said.
"Why?"
"I'll drive you home. Is there someone there to help you?"
"I don't need any help."
She sighed.
"I'll take that as a no?"
"I'm here alone. I'm staying at a hotel," he put his head in his hands, wishing the room would stop spinning.
"Is there someone I can call for you? A wife or parent?"
He looked at her and smiled.
"Is this your way of asking if I'm available?"
"Hardly."
He went to smile when she saw the look on his face change. She grabbed her garbage can before he got sick. She got up and called down to the pharmacy to order him some meds.
Patrick was humiliated. He watched her as he wiped his face and wondered if he could just slink off into the hall and die.
"Come on," she smiled. "Let's sit on the couch and wait for the meds to be delivered."
"I need to go," he said weakly.
"You're not going anywhere. I ordered some meds for you to help with these effects and then you're coming home with me."
"What? But you hate me."
She smiled and handed him a cool washcloth.
"I don't hate you. I just don't like you very much."
He put the cloth over his eyes and his chin quivered.
"I don't like myself very much, either."
Robin put her hand on his and felt her eyes fill. She knew just what he was dealing with and she wondered if maybe they could help each other.
XXXXXX
Chapter Six:
This was probably the dumbest thing she ever did. To be honest, she didn't know anything about him. He could be some serial killer. She looked over at him in the passenger seat and he held a barf bag in front of his face.
Okay, so he probably wasn't a serial killer.
Still, what was she doing? She dealt with patients at work; she didn't take them home with her. It's not like he was a lost puppy that needed a home. He was a grown man who had been a total ass to her.
She pulled up to her house and parked.
"We're here," she said and took the keys out. She pulled her own keys out of her purse and handed him his car keys.
"Come on."
He hadn't said anything and he was simply trying to keep his insides from coming out. He grabbed his gym bag from his car and followed her into the house as she led him into the guest room.
"Just lie down and I'll start an IV with some antiemetic's for you."
He stared at her and wasn't sure what to say. He watched as she pulled her long hair up into a ponytail and then went to go into the bathroom with the bag of things she brought.
"Move," he called and ran into the room, slamming the door before she went in. She sighed and turned to walk into her room to change, giving him privacy.
Patrick sat in the bathroom and felt the sweat break out over his brow. He didn't want to admit it, but he was scared. For all his arrogance, he was truly worried this was the beginning of the end.
What the hell was he doing here? In her house? He didn't even know her, and he allowed her to take him home. What if she was a serial killer? What if she injected him with something and then did terrible things to his body?
He looked in the mirror and splashed water on his face.
She didn't seem like a killer, but really, the real evil ones never do.
"Patrick?" she knocked on the door and he about jumped out of his skin and squealed like a baby.
"Are you okay?"
He opened the door and walked out, looking at her.
"I think I just need to sleep," he said softly.
She nodded and he saw she had turned down the bed and set out some Gatorade and crackers.
"I would like to give you an IV to make sure you don't get dehydrated. I've put in a mixture of meds that will help with your symptoms. I'm hopeful it will help you feel better really soon."
He sat down on the bed and pulled off his shoes and socks.
"Do you have anything else to wear?" she looked at his jeans and button down shirt.
"I can just take my clothes off. Is it okay if I wear my shorts?"
She shrugged.
"Whatever will make you more comfortable."
She walked out and he pulled his pants off and then his shirt, the movement causing his stomach to jump again.
"Fuck," he muttered as he put his head in his hands.
Robin walked back in and her heart skipped as she saw him almost naked.
"Come on," she walked over and shook the image out of her mind. "Enough suffering. Let me help you."
He let her help him sit back in the bed and she put her gloves on.
"Are you okay with me putting an IV in? I am HIV positive," she said, needing to be sure.
He looked into her eyes and nodded.
"I trust you."
She nodded and expertly prepped his arm before she put the IV in and taped the needle down. She started the fluids and his eyes were closed. She tucked him in and grabbed her notebook, sitting down on the couch in the room and writing.
XXXXX
Patrick woke up and took a minute to remember where he was. He felt amazing, or at least human, which for him, was amazing. He looked at his arm and saw the bandage where the IV port was covered. He looked at the clock and realized it had been three hours.
He turned and put his legs over the side of the bed and took the Gatorade she left and drank almost the whole bottle. He stood up and felt his insides stay where they should and he went into the bathroom to wash up, grabbing his bag.
Patrick washed up and pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before he brushed his teeth and exhaled. He needed to shave, but it would have to wait. He was feeling better, but he didn't want to push it. He walked out and smiled when he saw Robin in the family room sitting on the couch and reading.
"Hey," he said as he walked in.
She looked up and smiled brightly.
"You're alive?"
He laughed.
"Are you disappointed?"
"Not really. I guess I'll just mix the meds better next time," she teased and wiped her forehead.
Patrick looked at her and he suddenly jumped.
"Don't move," he said.
She froze.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
"Don't panic, but there's something crawling on you," he looked around. "Let me get something to kill it."
She laughed and reached to pick up the 'thing'.
He almost fainted.
"It's okay, Patrick, this is Ben," she smiled and held the rat for him to see.
"You do not have a rat named Ben," he said as he eyed the creature.
She grinned.
"I do. He's incredibly sweet. Would you like to hold him? He hangs out on my shoulder while I read."
Patrick walked over and looked at the albino thing.
"You can hold him," she smiled and held Ben out for Patrick.
"Will it bite?"
"Will you?" she asked.
He smiled and his dimples were gorgeous. He took Ben and sat down, letting the rat sit on his chest. He watched while Ben curled up in the fold of his shirt and slept.
"He's kind of cute," Patrick looked at Robin.
"It's amazing, isn't it? Just when you think something is worthless, they endear themselves to you," she winked and stood up, walking over to take Ben and put him back in his cage.
Patrick looked around at the room and realized how nicely it was decorated. There were beautiful pieces of art on the walls and two large bookcases against the wall. She had a large flat screen television mounted on the wall and a pretty elaborate sound system connected.
"How are you feeling?" she asked after she washed her hands and walked to the couch.
"So much better," he smiled. "You weren't kidding when you said you had a mixture that would help."
She smiled and nodded.
"It's not perfect, but it really takes the edge off," she yawned and then laughed. "Sorry, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."
"That would be my fault," he sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I'm really sorry. I'm incredibly embarrassed and ashamed of my behavior. I hope you give me a chance to make it up to you."
She stared at him and he blushed under her gaze.
"It's not necessary."
"What? What do you mean?"
She shrugged.
"I believe you. No need to make anything up."
"Okay, I guess," he said hesitantly.
"I'm going to lie down for a little bit, okay?" she stood up and looked at him. "Feel free to make yourself comfortable. You are welcome to anything in the fridge."
He stood up and faced her, looking at her bruised forehead.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm just tired," she looked at him and went to walk past and to her room. "Just so you know, I sleep with a gun, so don't try anything."
He laughed and saw she didn't smile.
"Oh, right, so I won't test you."
She raised her eyebrows.
"Made you think about it, didn't I? Now you don't know what to think," she smiled.
"So you do or you don't have a gun," he said.
"I like to keep you guessing. Excuse me," she turned and walked into her room, not feeling all that great herself.
Patrick watched her walk into the room and he smiled to himself as he sat down.
He shouldn't be here, he thought. Really, what the hell was he doing? He didn't know anything about her. When was she diagnosed? How did it happen?
He went to grab his shoes and leave when he heard her scream. He didn't think. He raced into her room.