Throw pillows, Robin recalled vaguely as she tried to open her eyes. Her lashes were laced together and it was almost as if someone had glued them shut. Opening her eyes was like lifting a set of ton weights with her eyelashes. Who hit me? She wondered immediately upon noticing the splitting migraine that reached from one side of her head to the other. She could almost trace it as if there were little one-inch stitches outlining the way for her. As she tried to open her mouth, she was met with even more resistance. There wasn't a bit of moisture left in her mouth and her lips were dry and cracked because of it.
Shoot me, she thought morosely as she pushed herself into a sitting position. She cringed at the sound of her eyelids rising and tried to roll over to get off of the bed, the urge to throw up strong enough to make her lose her balance. Stumbling off of the king-size bed and over to the dresser, she tried to regain some kind of composure only to feel her hands collide with something and hear it shatter.
"Hey, you're up." Patrick addressed her, helping her back to the bed. She didn't tell him about the motion sickness she was suddenly experiencing but it was made apparent when she caught a whiff of his aftershave and her face turned a nasty shade of green. "Got it." He placed her on the mattress and handed her a wastebasket, one which she handed back a moment later.
Robin's head found his right shoulder somehow and she buried her face in his blue button-down, curling into a ball as the sound of a faucet dripping caused her to cover her ears and whimper slightly. Patrick collected her carefully to him and rubbed her back. "You'll be okay." Sure, it was easy for him to say. He hadn't woken up with the hangover from hell. "Are you cold?" He wondered, easing her head back with his hand.
"No. Too hot." She spoke at last, pushing him away a little. He caught her arms and put adequate distance between them while still keeping her from falling into a heap on the floor.
"Are you still feeling dizzy?"
"No. I need to get home." She realized, glancing over at the window, proving to herself that it was still evening.
"You aren't going anywhere right this second." Patrick argued. "But how about something for that hangover?"
"Why are you being so nice to me?" She challenged tightly.
"I can be nice." Patrick insisted, ignoring Robin's scoff.
"You're only nice when you want something." She countered, reaching for the end of the mattress to try and get to her feet.
"Careful there, Bambi. I don't know if you should attempt that just yet. Remember what happened last time?" He reminded her.
"I am not a child." She shot back, using his right hand to help balance herself. "There. See. Did it."
"Yes you did."
"Are you mocking me?" She cut him a sideways glance.
"No. Do you want some relief or not?" He had to have known she did.
"Do you have to be there with me?" She redirected.
"To make sure you actually drink it, yes." He clarified.
"Where are we going?" She asked, latching onto his left arm as they left the bedroom.
"Downstairs." Patrick replied, moving her hand to his right arm so that he could hold her up with the other.
"I can hold myself up." Robin snapped.
"Sure you can." Patrick muttered, slowly stepping down the stairs with her holding onto him like a lifesaver.
"Where do you get off--" She began.
"Robin, shh. All this yelling is not going to help your head." He advised, watching his words convince her to lean into him even more heavily.
"What's in this special drink?" Robin queried as he sat her down in a chair and disappeared into the kitchen.
"It doesn't matter." She heard him call from the kitchen. Was that…? Yep, a blender. She held her head and a long string of whimpers escaped her lips. Then it was over and there was a glass full of some kind of pink foam being pushed into her hand. "You like pink, don't you?"
"Not when I don't know what makes it that color." Robin grumbled, giving him a skeptical look.
"If you drink it really fast, you can't taste it." He promised, lifting the hand that grasped the glass so that it was level with her mouth.
"I don't know, Patrick. Can't I just have some aspirin or something?" She whined.
"If you want to wait a while for the hangover to subside. Trust me. I know what I'm talking about. Drink up." He stood over her and would until she drained the glass.
"There. Happy?" She asked once she had taken a small sip.
"All of it, Robin." He pressed on, resting his hand on the back of her neck.
As she brought the glass to her lips again, the smell assaulted her nose and she had to swallow down a mouthful of bile. She wanted to give it back to him and go find some aspirin, but he wouldn't let her leave this chair until she did what she was told. Damned stubborn man.
"That's a good girl." He teased, taking the glass from her and leaving it in the kitchen.
"Shut up." She murmured, sliding off of the chair and keeping her balance for a full minute before she had to reach out and accept the support Patrick was offering. "I took your miracle drink. Why don't I feel better yet?"
"Because that's only one of two. Without the second part, the drink was all for show." Patrick explained ushering her over to the couch and letting her sit down.
"I don't care. Whatever the second thing is, I don't want it. I just want to sleep." Robin insisted, slowly lowering her head to the arm of the couch. The leather squeaked under her and she reached for her head again.
"If you can sleep, do so. I'm going to get to work on some breakfast--" His voice sounded distant.
"Breakfast? It's the middle of the night." Robin pointed out.
"It'll help." He promised.
"All that grease…" She mused, clamping her hand over her mouth. Patrick nudged over a trashcan with his right boot and then headed for the kitchen to prepare a meal for her.
When Patrick returned to the living room about ten minutes later, Robin was sprawled out on the couch, her left leg hanging over the side and her arms thrown haphazardly across her stomach. He smirked when he heard her voice change from a soft purr to the unmistakable sound of a snore. Reaching for a forest green throw he kept to the left of the couch, he tucked her in, careful not to disturb her. He had already called Elizabeth and Courtney to let them know that she'd probably be staying over. Courtney had assured him that getting Morgan ready for school had become so common, she could do it alone. Elizabeth had agreed that staying over was probably the best thing, but he had noticed a bit of hesitancy in her tone. She was a good friend.
"What am I going to do with you, huh?" He asked, dropping onto the floor beside the couch. Brushing away her sweaty bangs, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm an asshole. We've pretty much established that." He chuckled, resting his forehead against hers, her breath catching slightly. Rubbing a series of circles over her stomach, he waited for her body to relax under his subtle touch before continuing, "I don't understand what it is you see in me that makes you stay, makes you take all of the crap that comes spewing out of my mouth."
He needed her to be awake for this. He was already in enough trouble and he knew she was in so much pain. The outfit had set him off, but he had never meant for the fight to go as far as it had. He didn't want to think that she was dressing like this for anyone but him. Listening to his own mind piece together his thoughts, he had to laugh at his moronic logic. So he had figured calling her a whore was the way to get her to come to his side? He was lucky she had stopped herself with a cruel slap to the cheek. She could have done some major damage. But, unlike him, she didn't seem all that interested in making him pay for his mistakes. In fact, since Manhattan, she had been especially loving toward him.
"Robin, honey, wake up." Patrick barely rubbed her shoulders until she started to stir. "I need you to look at me, hear what I'm about to tell you." He went on breathlessly.
"I'm so sleepy." She answered pitifully, pushing his hands away from her shoulders and snuggling into the blanket.
"I know, but I need you to wake up." He whispered into her ear.
"Fine. I'm up. I'm up." She promised, pushing her feet out from under her and settling the blanket over her shoulders like a makeshift cape. "What?"
"I didn't go to New Jersey." Patrick admitted, feeling as though all of the air had been sucked out of the room.
"What do you mean you didn't go to New Jersey? Didn't you have a client there?" Robin asked, rubbing her eyes and trying to focus.
"No. I lied to you." Patrick shook his head, glancing down at his hands.
"Why would you do that?" Though it hadn't seemed possible, she had missed him terribly in the mere day he had been away from her. And, come to find out, he hadn't actually gone away to meet a client when that's what he had told her.
"I had to do something…and I didn't want you to know about it." Patrick explained, his eyes finding hers at last.
Feeling a lump build inside her throat, Robin tentatively asked, "Where did you really go?"
"I went to have some blood drawn at General." Patrick clarified, his tongue darting out to wet his dry bottom lip.
"General Hospital?" Robin guessed.
"Yeah." Patrick nodded.
"Why didn't you think you could tell me that?" She inquired, hurt.
"I didn't want to worry you."
"Should I be worried?" Robin asked in a quiet, tormented whisper.
"No." Patrick reached for her hand but she backed away from him. "I just wanted to be sure."
"I see." Robin responded in a remote tone. "Is this because of what happened between us the afternoon you left?"
"No, of course not!" Patrick replied resolutely.
"Then explain the timing to me, because I don't understand what would make you rush off to the hospital to have another set of tests run." Robin's voice cracked and she wouldn't let him see her eyes. She, instead, focused on the wall behind him.
"I told you: I wanted to be sure." Patrick repeated.
"If you were so scared, why didn't you use some kind of protection? God, why didn't I insist that you--" Robin couldn't finish the thought.
"My going to General had nothing to do with you." Patrick stated unwaveringly.
"It has everything to do with me! I'm the one who exposed you to this disease." Her eyes shifted to his. "What affects you affects me too. I couldn't stand it if--"
"I don't know anything for certain. The first two tests have been negative. I didn't want to involve you…"
"That doesn't make any sense, Patrick. I know what you're going through. I get it. You don't have to hide things from me. I want you to be able to trust me--"
"I trust you implicitly." Patrick retorted.
"Obviously not or you wouldn't have lied." Robin's chin began to wobble, but she never let her eyes stray from his.
"I didn't want to worry you over nothing. How can you say I don't trust you? Don't you see? Don't you see that I'm trying to spare you from unnecessary pain?"
"I didn't ask you to save me. I've been just fine on my own." Robin sneered.
"I still get to try whether or not you decide to make it easy on me. You've been through so much already."
"So what? I live everyday with a disease I can't see, can only feel. It's scary as hell and I begged you to leave me in that car, but you wouldn't listen." Her eyelids fluttered restlessly as she fought back oncoming tears.
Patrick brushed her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. "You're damn right I wouldn't listen. I was stubborn and terrified that I was going to lose you. Given another chance, I'd do the same thing."
"Don't say that! You can't mean that!" She shook her head fervently.
Patrick leaned in closer, pressing his mouth to each tear and soaking them into his mouth. "Do you have any idea how important you are to me? I would do anything for you."
"Patrick--"
"No, let me finish." He settled his hands over hers, brushing their cheeks together. As always, her scent distracted him and he had to struggle to focus because he wouldn't be able to continue otherwise. "I've watched everyone leave you at one point or another in your life. I didn't know Stone, but just from what you've told me--"
"Please stop it." Robin pleaded, struggling for breath as her tears threatened to choke her.
"And then Jason. You thought you had a real connection with him I bet, but he was just a cold, heartless son of a bitch who used you and then had nothing to do with you after that."
"That isn't--"
"You went on to marry another cold, heartless son of a bitch. And when he hurt you…" Patrick had to look away for a second and then his eyes were on hers again. "I wanted you to be wrong. I wanted to believe that he was right. I inflicted an immeasurable amount of pain and stress on you when you weren't even at fault." He whispered harshly.
"You didn't know." Robin insisted.
"But I should have known." He replied angrily. "I should have seen through the bullshit and trust that you were telling the truth. Everyone else could see it, but I refused to. I wasted so much time." Patrick wiped away the moisture building under his eyes.
"But we've got time now." Robin reminded him. "The past doesn't matter. This, you and me, matters." She promised, squeezing his hands tightly.
"When I was sitting in that hospital, all I wanted was to be back with you. I thought about you the whole time." Patrick disclosed, intertwining their hands and bringing her knuckles to his mouth.
"I wish you had let me go with you." Robin sighed brokenly.
"I am sorry I lied to you, but it was good that you weren't there. Until we know--" Patrick explained.
"No!" Robin's response surprised him. "No more secret appointments. I'm going with you every time, so you just need to swallow your pride and accept that."
"It's not about pride." Patrick argued. "Or at least, not all about pride."
"I know you want to protect me, but lying isn't the way to go. Let me help you." Robin begged.
"I don't know how." Patrick admitted shamefacedly.
"You're not alone anymore." Robin assured him, placing a kiss on his forehead, the tip of his nose, and the corner of his mouth. He turned his mouth into hers, feeling some of the tension leave his body as she surrendered beneath his powerful kiss.
Their lips moved together, restlessly at first, and then lazily as they familiarized themselves with one another. He could taste their combined tears as he drank hungrily from her mouth, swallowing her every moan. Her fingertips pressed into his neck and he drew her closer, pulling at the top button of her dress and sliding his hand inside the material to caress her velvet skin. Pressing his mouth to the tip of her ear, he whispered, "I love you."