Robin buttoned up Morgan's gray suit and tied his black shiny shoes as soon as she had his hair combed and parted in the middle of his crown. She had sent this little suit to the cleaners and picked it up on her way home from work. Morgan had been meticulously clean when she walked through the door, so she hadn't seen any reason to force him to take a shower before their evening out. It wasn't until her fight with Courtney over Morgan's tantrum that Robin realized how overly stressed she was and that she was alienating her adopted son from her life. She had long since apologized to Courtney and she hoped tonight would go off without a hitch. She didn't want Morgan to feel like an outsider. He depended on her. Last night Robin had caught him saying his prayers aloud, his little hands pressed together, his eyes closed. She knew he had been raised strictly Catholic but, try as she may, she never got him there on Sunday. She would just have to do better. Sonny had left her in charge. Tonight would put things into perspective for both her and her son. She just knew it somehow.
Robin had booked reservations at Le Bernardin, the most exclusive seafood restaurant in town according to the PC Insider. She had taken off early from work--it was becoming a bad habit lately--and gone to buy a new sundress to battle the blistering heat. Thankfully, on her way home, the night had fallen into a very comfortable sixty degrees so she didn't have to worry about Morgan getting a heatstroke from his navy blue suit. Robin had put together a flexible schedule for them tonight. They would go to dinner first and then it was off to see Ratatouille. Maybe they would stop at Robin's favorite vendor for a few ice cream cones if they had enough time. For two straight weeks Morgan had gone to bed at least an hour late, making him irritable and bringing out the Corinthos temper.
Robin held out her hand for him once she reached the door and asked, "Ready buddy?" Morgan nodded and launched off of the bed, taking the offered hand. She flipped off the overhead lights and locked the door behind them, humming to herself as she watched Morgan skip to the elevator. Maybe it was all going to be okay, she thought to herself.
"Don't you like seafood, Morgan?" Robin inquired, watching the six-year-old stab a shrimp with his fork and drag it across his plate. He glanced up at her with an incredulous look. She took a bite of her calamari when she noticed the waiter come her way and a sip of her wine so that he wouldn't bother them. Morgan was nothing if not polite, but he looked to be struggling with the idea of putting the food in his mouth. "I guess we should have gone to a more kid-friendly place, huh? I'm sorry, Morgan."
At that, Morgan dropped his fork, the metal banging loudly against the china plate. He reached for his small cup of soda and drank it all in one gulp. He fidgeted with his tie looking like a short twenty-something instead of a nervous six-year-old. She was torn between calling it quits and taking him somewhere else, and staying here and making him at least try the dinner. He might like it, she reasoned. Besides, if he always got the say in what they ate, she would make him spoiled. It was a miracle in itself that he wasn't a junk food junkie. Be careful, a voice reminded Robin. You shouldn't speak ill of the dead, especially when you've been put in charge of their child's welfare.
"Did you do anything fun today?" She would at least attempt conversation before throwing in the towel. Miss Guerin, Morgan's camp leader, had informed Robin of each and every one of their activities so there really wasn't any reason to ask Morgan what he did. She had known all along. Of course, she wanted to make sure he was actually having fun; otherwise it was just one more thing she was screwing up.
Robin mentally scratched her head. "You wouldn't believe how big a cake my new client wants. She said that it should reach the ceiling. Can you imagine?" Morgan gave a look that said he was trying to care about what she did all day, but clearly didn't have any use for it. "I asked if she wanted chocolate or vanilla frosting and she insisted on strawberry!" Robin leaned closer, crooking her finger in Morgan's direction so that he would meet her in the middle of the table. "But, it's a secret, so I need to know I can trust you before I go on." Morgan held out his pinkie and Robin wrapped hers around it as they established a pact.
By the time Robin and Morgan made it to the aforementioned ice cream parlor it was nearing nine o'clock. They had gone to see the movie about the rats and, after being a little grossed out, she found most of it hilarious. The best part had been hearing Morgan giggle when the lead rat climbed into the skinny red head's hat and started pulling at his hair, controlling what he did. The evening had been an absolute success. When Robin asked Morgan which flavor of ice cream he wanted, he obediently pointed to chocolate mint and she, who hadn't actually tried that kind before, decided to trust his judgment. Morgan licked away at the green sugary treat and Robin paid, staring at the ice cream cone as if she didn't quite trust it to hold the double scoops she had seen them slap on top of it.
Caught up in the excitement, Robin almost dropped her ice cream when she spotted Patrick Drake coming out of the coffee shop across the street. He didn't spot her right away and started to walk away. She figured she should have let him, after all she didn't want anything to come between her and Morgan's night, but something forced her to call out to him. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"
When he turned to face her, he was grinning. "It's your own fault you know."
Robin decided to play innocent. "I don't know what you mean."
Patrick pointed a finger in her direction. "I think you do." He looked behind Robin and noticed a little person with an ice cream for a head and little chubby legs. "You look amazing." Patrick told Robin, licking his bottom lip unconsciously as he took in the sight of her pink dress. He thanked the seamstress who had chosen so sheer a material. He couldn't see through it, but it hugged her every curve and his mind started racing. She looked uncomfortable at the intimate way he was staring at her. He dropped his eyes to his shoes, taking a soundless breath. This was just what she hadn't wanted, for him to interrupt the time she spent with Morgan. He hadn't realized until now that that was exactly what he was doing.
"We were just getting some ice cream." Robin explained unnecessarily. It was obvious what with them holding the evidence in their hands.
"I see that. Well, I won't keep you from your 'date.'" He chuckled, acknowledging Morgan by simply messing with his hair. The child slapped his hand away and he couldn't help but laugh at that too before forcing himself to leave them alone.
"Good night, Patrick." Robin said as he started to walk away. She glanced down at Morgan. "You ready to go home?" He took the time to nod and then buried his face in his ice cream. He was already halfway covered in mint ice cream, but Robin couldn't bring herself to scold him. He was having fun. That was all she had wanted to accomplish tonight.
Patrick was about to disappear into the alley that was a straight shot to his studio when Robin's hair caught his attention and he had no choice but to stop and watch her get Morgan buckled into her 2006 red convertible. She said something to his second cousin to make him giggle and then proceeded to climb into the car and get herself situated. She flipped the radio to some sort of ridiculous pop station and Patrick was sure it was the crudeness of the tune that made him recognize it as one of Lucky's old protégés, but the name escaped him. He wondered if she had turned it to that station just to make him manic, just to make him throw every assumption he had ever made about her out the proverbial window. When he had heard that she had adopted Morgan, he had expected her to be riding around town in a white Lexus or maybe a powder blue minivan. Never in all of his musings had he pictured her in a bright red convertible with the top down, her six-year-old strapped into the back. She continued to surprise him and that thought brought a smile to his face.
Robin forced herself to take a calm relaxing breath. If Morgan noticed her sudden discomfort, he didn't voice his concern. She hadn't expected to see Patrick tonight, had actually thought that she could separate her life with Morgan and her—well whatever it was she had with Patrick—but tonight had proven her wrong. This town was only so big and, despite the fact that they had succeeded in coexisting without ever running into each other six months ago, they were bound to cross paths every once and a while…more by intention than coincidence if she had read the look in his eyes correctly. He had practically undressed her with his scorching gaze and it made her uneasy to say the least. What if she didn't meet his perfect standard of what a woman should look like? But then, he had met her gaze and she felt like…well, he must have liked what he had seen. She had to resist the urge to look back at him when she pulled out of the parking space or she might very well forget her principles and do something stupid…like forget she had a six-year-old in her care and do something she would surely regret.
The song she had switched the radio to was bothering her, but Morgan was bouncing his head to it, so she didn't think she should change it. It wasn't like the singer was cursing or using inappropriate lyrics to get his point across. She glanced down at her hand and saw that she still held her ice cream cone. Now, how had she been expecting to drive with this distraction? The trashcan was only a foot away from her. She took a chance and managed to throw it in the circular opening of the black plastic bin. It was good that she was so mature or she might have done a little victory dance at her accomplishment.
"All right Drake, time to call it a night." Patrick muttered to himself. He forced one foot in front of the other until they started to catch on to what he wanted them to do. What was it actually hurting to watch her drive away? He would be on the phone with her as soon as he got home. She would tell him she had just gotten Morgan to sleep and then make a cute little comment about not understanding why he felt compelled to call her in the first place. He never knew how far he could push Robin. She was far from being submissive to his every whim. Thank God, he smiled to himself. She was a hell of a lot more fun than Emily and, from what he could tell, she was reasonably sane. Still, Robin Scorpio kept herself in a bubble forcing him to tread lightly. He doubted she was quite ready for phone sex, so he'd just have to be a gentleman and stick to polite conversation.
Patrick's head shot up at the sound of metal meeting wood and he was running before he even knew what had happened. The car had been no match for the old Redwood sitting at the Firewheel and Commerce intersection. Shards of glass flew at Robin and Morgan and they screamed. Blood pounded in his ears as he closed in on the car's location and he blinked his eyes several times to make sure that he would focus on every detail instead of becoming overwhelmed. Morgan's tiny body had been thrown in the front floorboard, but he was conscious. His suit was covered in mint ice cream and dried blood. He was on his head, screaming and crying as he struggled to break free.
"It's all right." Patrick heard himself say as he reached in and carefully removed Morgan from the boxed-in vehicle. He checked his forehead for glass, but saw no sign of any. He had cracked his head open on impact. Patrick located a towel from the backseat, his hand almost couldn't fit in-between the seats, and he wrapped it around the child's head. "Hold this. I'm going to get Robin." Patrick explained, convincing Morgan to sit on the grass and wait until he returned.
Robin's face was pressed into the steering wheel and she had her arms held out in front of her. She must have been trying to avoid getting struck by the flying glass, but the end result had been sacrificing the skin on her arms. Her body was twisted in half, her knees pressing into the console, her feet shoved under the seat. She didn't respond to his voice and he knew he had to work fast. He threw his phone across the car to Morgan, but it landed on the grass beside the boy and he knew he would have to call the police in a second. Right now, he had only one agenda: extracting Robin from this car.
The driver's side was shoved into the tree preventing Patrick from opening the door and getting her out that way. He had no choice but to come at this from the backseat, but since the car had shrunk by about half, it wasn't a considerable stretch for him. He touched Robin's uninjured right shoulder and slid his hands under her arms. Her sudden cry surprised but didn't deter him. She turned toward him, her face covered in cuts so deep he could almost see the bones in her cheeks, and shook her head. "Don't touch me!" She screamed, fighting against his unwavering hands.
"Robin, you've been in an accident." Patrick stated, barely able to lift her from the seat before she managed to turn away from him and drop into her same position once more. "I need you to stay still." He said in a breathless tone.
"Morgan? Morgan!" Robin cried, her hair flipping from side to side as she searched the area for her son.
"He's alright, Robin. I got him out. He's sitting in the grass." Patrick assured her, tucking her sticky hair behind her ear.
"He's okay?" Robin felt the need to ask and he forced a smile.
"He's fine, but I told him I would get you out of here and that's what I'm going to do." Patrick replied, returning to his task.
"But you can't touch me!" Robin repeated, slapping his hands away.
"Why not?" Patrick questioned, his voice shaking slightly. He used his free hand to wipe away the sweat and blood that had collected at the center of her forehead.
"Patrick, c-call General Hospital. I need a paramedic to get me out of the car." Robin said slowly, swallowing with some difficulty.
"We don't have time for that!" Patrick couldn't help but yell back at her. "I'm here now."
"It's not safe for you. Get away from me!" Robin repeated, trying to unsnap her seatbelt. It refused to budge and she felt tears slide down her cheeks.
"What are you talking about? Robin, what are you talking about?" Patrick demanded, his hands starting to shake at the crispiness of her voice. She sounded ancient as she spoke to him, having grown old from some unseen burden that she carried with her day in and day out.
"I'm HIV+." She whispered, resting her forehead against the steering wheel.
"What?" He must have heard her wrong.
"I'm HIV+ positive, Patrick, and I can't have you covered in my blood, okay?" She shouted at him, her bottom lip trembling when she lifted her head.
"What do you mean you're HIV+? Robin, you're the healthiest person I know." Patrick argued.
"I have to be." Robin explained.
"How can you be…Logan?" Patrick wasn't sure why his brother's name instantly floated from his lips. Was that why his brother had blown him off this year? Had he tested positive for AIDS and not known how to face Patrick?
"No. Before Logan." Robin countered.
Patrick shut his eyes, hiding his initial reaction to Robin's statement, ignored her warning and, with one good yank, got her out of the car in one piece. Robin shrieked as her mangled body slid over the torn leather seats and Patrick cringed at the sound of it. He picked her up and carried her over to where Morgan sat petrified.
"What did you think you were doing?" Robin screamed, throwing her hands out in front of her when he leaned closer to check for loose glass. Her nails caught on his cheek and she resisted slapping him, wishing he had listened to her for once instead of putting himself at risk.
"Saving your life." Patrick responded, his bloody fingers pushing at the keys mercilessly as he called for help.
"Who the hell asked you to? Why couldn't you have listened to me? Why? Do you really believe yourself to be invincible?" Robin sobbed, rolling onto her side and biting into her bottom lip when the pain registered.
"Yes, there has been an accident. My friend and her son are hurt. Yes, I was able to get them out of the car. The boy cut his head open and my friend is bleeding pretty badly. Tell the paramedics that my friend has HIV. Thank you. No, we're fine. Just send someone." The adrenaline rush gone now, Patrick hit the END button on his cell and fell onto the grass, his eyes closing as he lapsed into immediate exhaustion.
"It's okay, Morgan." Robin whispered, taking short, choking breaths. "The doctors will be here soon and then…they'll give us some lollipops for being such excellent patients.