Chapter 59

Standing over her son's crib Robin let out a quiet sigh. After all the activity of the last few hours the house was finally quiet. It had taken quite a bit of effort on her part to convince first Mac, then Noah and Nikolas that she would be fine. Her uncle had promised to call her with an update as soon as the Medical Examiner determined whose blood was at the crime scene. Nikolas had made several frantic phone calls only to discover despite his best laid plans his grandmother was, in fact, on the loose. The upside to his discovery was that Helena was very likely holding Nathalie and Patrick; the downside was that she had the whole world in which to do it.

She stroked her sleeping son's back. If Helena had him, as it appeared she did, then she knew he was safe for now. It wasn't a random home invasion or mistaken identity – Patrick was taken on purpose – for a purpose and that brought her some measure of comfort. Walking across the room, she sank in to the rocking chair, pulling the blanket from the arm and wrapping it around her. Given who she had dated in the past, this type of situation was not a new one for her; she had spent hours, sometimes days wondering if Jason was going to be home and in fact had become so accustomed to the danger his life brought that she expected him to be taken or killed or both. The irony that it was her neurosurgeon husband with no connection to organized crime who had been kidnapped was not lost on her.

Her hand went to her belly. They had barely begun to celebrate the news of their second child. They had been planning to call her parents tomorrow to let them know they were going to be grandparents again but that wasn't the phone call she got to make. Rocking gently in the chair she thought back to the conversations she had with both of them. While her upbringing had been unconventional to say the least and her parents were absent for large parts of her life, they continually proved to her that the bond between parent and child had nothing to do with physical proximity and everything to do with the proximity of the heart.

"Dad?"

"Luv?" came the smooth Australian accent. She didn't know where in the world he was, only how to contact him.

"There's a problem." She felt strangely disengaged as she relayed the news of Patrick and Nathalie's kidnapping and the belief that Helena might be behind it. Though good in a crisis, she had expected to be more emotional but thought it positive that she wasn't. Robert had listened attentively, asking only the briefest of questions.

"I am on my way" he said quickly. "We'll get him back Robin – you must believe that."

"I do."

And she did believe it. Though her husband had continually told her that he wasn't as strong as she was, or as tough as she was, Robin knew differently. Patrick had pockets of strength he didn't even know about. Few people could understand the steadfastness and internal fortitude it took to hold a life in your hands, to stand quietly over an opened brain working on nerves and receptors that were millimeters not inches. He walked a tightrope daily in the operating room where the smallest of error, the slightest miscalculation, would result in loss of function or death. He was unwavering in his ability to get through a surgery no matter how difficult and he always had two plans – the optimal plan and the back up. Patrick may have come across as a cocky, fly by the seat of his pants surgeon but he was a planner and never made a move until he was sure. That was how she knew that no matter where he was, no matter what was happening, her husband would not panic. There would be no impulsive bid for freedom that could end badly because though he was a risk taker he always calculated the risk first.

Her eyes grew heavy with fatigue but she wasn't ready to sleep. With overlapping and conflicting shifts going to bed without her husband was not a new thing but she had never once gone to bed not knowing where he was or not being able to get a hold of him. Getting up from the rocking chair, she bent over the crib and kissed her son. "Don't worry Rian, we're going to get Daddy back." She pulled the door closed behind her and walked to her bedroom. Standing in the doorway she stared at their king size bed, chuckling at the disagreement they had when they went bed shopping to replace Patrick's old queen size bed.

"Patrick, what on earth do we need a king size bed for?"

"The room – bigger is better baby" he teased bouncing on one of the floor models.

"I am three apples high – I get lost in the queen, you'll never find me in the king"

Reaching for her hands he pulled her on to his lap. "I will always find you – no matter what."

Robin shivered as she heard the serious tinge to his voice in her head.

"Besides, playing naked hide and seek can be fun."

She rolled her eyes. "You are incorrigible."

"Nah." He kissed her cheek. "I just want to have the perfect bed in which to sleep with you, make love to you and even just hang out with you."

Robin looked at the silk navy blue duvet cover with the crisp white pillow cases and shook her head. That was their bed and if he could not sleep in it, neither would she. Grabbing her robe and pajamas, she walked to the spare bedroom, home to Patrick's old queen sized bed and got under the covers. The next time she slept in her bed would be with her husband's arms wrapped firmly around her.

"I love you Patrick" she whispered before finally giving in to slumber.

********
Nikolas sat behind the desk in his study staring at the family photos he had so carefully arranged. There was the obligatory one of his mother along with several from Spencer's christening with Lulu and Lucky holding him. And then there were the two photos of Nathalie. She hated having her picture taken and would find a way to keep busy if there was any threat of a camera. Despite her best efforts he had managed to snap two photos of her. The first was on the beach in Australia at Robin and Patrick's wedding. Her hair was lighter, her skin sun-kissed and her white dress skimmed her curves. Out of frame, Patrick had just told her some outrageous joke that caused her to laugh uproariously. Her green eyes sparkled and she embodied happiness - he could spend hours staring at that picture. The second photo was taken before Christmas, before it had all gone terribly wrong. Nathalie sat on the bed in his bedroom with Oliver between her legs and Grace tucked under her arm. She was reading a story and exuding such maternal love. His chest constricted as he thought of her alone, afraid and pregnant with his child believing he didn't love her. All he wanted to do was kiss her and tell her how happy she had made him - how nothing mattered but their family. Rage boiled inside him as he realized that he likely brought this on himself and on her.

His hand swept across the desk sending everything - papers, telephones and photos - flying. It was not the first time he felt the weight of the Cassadine curse but it was the most painful. Lulled into the belief that he could live a normal life, he had let his guard down with Nathalie, let things slide where his grandmother and other threats were concerned. But he knew now; he knew there would be no normal life for him. Hurling the glass of brandy in his hand at the wall, he didn't even notice the amber liquid splattering over priceless heirlooms. The heirlooms and antiques were meaningless if he had no one to share them with. Pushing out of his chair, he walked to the far wall, pulled the Stubbs painting from it and flung it at the stone fireplace. The release became intoxicating and he reached for book after book, pulling them from their shelves and smashing them against the desk. The crystal wine decanter shattered loudly as it made contact with the fireplace. A small photo of his grandmother in a delicate pewter frame rested on the bookshelf. Picking it up he smiled mirthlessly, his grandmother had spent years trying to get him to be a real Cassadine and though she may have finally succeeded, he hoped to make her regret it. If she wanted his darkness, his ruthlessness to come out to play then he would certainly do his best to please her.

The reign of destruction continued as he broke, shattered and hurled everything in the room that was not nailed down. Standing in the centre of the study he felt a sense of satisfaction that there was nothing left. The destruction wasn't the end, it was just the beginning. He sank to the floor and pulled the picture of Nathalie from the pile. Tracing the outline of her face with his finger, he looked intently at the photo. "I'm coming for you Nathalie - hang on." He pulled the photo to his chest and began to rock amidst the rubble, hopelessness dancing tantalizingly in front of him. "I'm coming for you."

The door to his study still closed, he had no way of knowing his trusty butler was around the corner. Pulling a cell phone from his pocket, Alfred hit the speed dial button. "I am so sorry to bother you but I think you need to come home right away."

******
The dark was almost a comfort to him. It had for so long been a familiar friend, a place where he could hide and be alone with his thoughts. The effort to let go of the darkness had been enormous and exhausting on his part though he had managed to do so. But now he was happy to sink back in to its tempting embrace. All of his senses were heightened- even his sight. Daylight meant hope but darkness was reality and in it he could see things as they really were as opposed to how he wanted them to be. He flipped his phone open and closed, over and over again, watching as the blue light flashed on the keypad. He ran his thumb over the phonebook key watching as familiar numbers, personal and professional, scrolled before him. He wasn't even aware that he had hit the number until her heard the familiar voice, jarring him from his thoughts.

"Pronto?"

He said nothing, the words caught in his throat.

"Hello? Is there anyone there?" Even so far away Brenda's voice was crisp and clear.
He opened his mouth yet still the words would not come; Noah snapped his phone shut. It was almost sun rise and he had made it through the night, one step at a time.