Lulu's eyes were extremely unfocused as Evan parked in front of her building. She hadn't spoken since begging him to take her to the hospital and that had been hours ago. If the situation weren't so dire, he would have pinched her to make sure she was still breathing. Her eyes barely registered the familiar setting, but she made no move to get out. Evan let the car idle for a minute and wondered what he should do. He didn't want to scare her, but he had to get back to the station.

He could sit and wait or he could drag her up the stairs and make her lock the doors as soon as he left. He didn't want to think about her all alone without even the protection of her deadbolt, but she wasn't feeling like herself so her instincts would be a little shot. Not that he could blame her.

What a hell of a day she had been through. A hell of a week. He fully accepted some of the blame because most of it was purely circumstance. He thought about how she had looked when she stormed into the PCPD holding his shirt as far away from her body as she could. In just a few short hours she had completely lost the sparkle in her sharp blue eyes. Now it was like she could no longer see, barely a step above functioning.

"Leslie." He reinforced the single word by simply resting his hand on her left shoulder.

She jerked in surprise, his soft voice startling her. Blinking, she slowly started to recognize her building. When had she left the hospital? How long had they been sitting here? Looking over at him in confusion, she shook her head. "I'm home?"

"Yeah. Come on, I'll walk you up." Evan offered, reaching for his seatbelt.

"How long have we been here?"

"Few minutes." Evan answered conversationally. At least she was talking. So far he counted eight words, but they were eight more words than she had said in over three hours and he would take what he could get.

"Oh." She took a slow step into the sunlight. "I remember going to the hospital..."

"It's okay if you're finding things a little hazy. Grief does that to people." He assured her, closing some of the gap between them. Not too close though. He didn't want to spook her. She looked fragile and a knot tightened in his stomach.

Grief? He had said grief? "Robin...the baby..." She felt her voice falter and she nearly fell down against the wall. Logan hadn't...he hadn't succeeded, had he? Oh God...Patrick....if Logan had succeeded...

"Hey." Evan couldn't stop himself from folding his arms around her. "It's okay. The baby's fine. Robin had a bad reaction to some of the medication, but she's fighting." He caught a traitorous tear that slid down her cheek and wiped it away.

"He's not coming back is he? It's over right?"

"Who?" He had a pretty good idea, but he wanted her to say the name anyway. He hadn't read her file, but that was something he was going to do once he got to work. He didn't know anything about Drake except that he was her cousin. Was this why the commissioner been so hell-bent on protecting her? Was it because of something Logan Drake had done to her?

"Logan. He's gone. Right? He's not going to hurt anyone again?"

"No, he's gone sweetie. He can't hurt anyone anymore."

"Promise?" She grabbed onto Evan's arm and pulled him closer to her. "Promise?"

He could kick himself for not investigating her past, but at the time it had felt like an awful blow that he just couldn't inflict on her. She was already assigned a babysitter; he shouldn't have needed to know what had brought her to this point. It was none of his business. Correction, it hadn't been his business before, but it was now. "I promise." He whispered focusing on her pale face. "I promise."

"Take me home?" she whispered.

"You are home." Evan reminded her. Damn, how was he going to leave her now? A selfish part of him said that he should stay, to hell with anything else. After all, he would probably never see her this vulnerable again and he would be wasting the chance. Something else, his damn morals probably, argued that that would be manipulation and he didn't want to use her, not again. And that was what he had done, no matter how much he told himself it hadn't been like that. She had been vulnerable then though, hadn't she? And he had taken full advantage.

She was home wasn't she? Lulu looked around carefully at the hallway and the familiar doors. God how had everything gotten so blurry on her? It wasn't like her to not be able to focus this much. Spencers were cool under pressure. Just look at her mother. Her father. Her brother. Why couldn't she concentrate and focus? "Are you leaving?"

"I'll stay if you want me to." Evan conceded. And he would. One word from her and he would stay as long as she wanted him. He would take care of her.

"I don't want to be alone."

He didn't wait for her to give him her key; it would pointless anyway since he had his own. Her eyes widened when he pulled the plain silver key from his back pocket. "I got it for emergencies." Evan explained. "I've never used it, I swear."

Strangely she felt he was telling her the truth but was too tired and confused right now to sort out why she felt that way. "I don't really care. I just want to go to bed."

"You should eat something." He told her, patiently holding the door open for her to pass through.

"Not hungry."

"Drink something then." It wasn't a suggestion.

"Fine. I'll get some water." She took a few steps toward the kitchen before she felt the room start to move on her.

Evan noticed her body sway and reached out to catch her. "Okay, let's get you in bed and I'll bring you some water." He bargained. She accepted his help but he could tell she didn't like having to depend on him.

"Fine." She didn't want to agree with him and wanted his help even less, but the simple truth was she didn't think she had the energy to do anything more than pull back the covers and fall into a hopefully dreamless sleep.

"Put your arms around my neck." He ordered, waiting for her to do just that.

Any other day she would have argued and fought with him. Not today. Sighing softly, she circled her arms around his neck.

"Thank you." Evan smiled, lifting her off of her feet and carrying her to her bed. Her head fell against his shoulder in exhaustion and she was asleep before he reached her room. Softly, he lowered her onto the mattress. She murmured something, but hell if he knew what she was trying to express. He tucked her in tightly, the outside temperature having dropped severely, and turned off the bedside lamp. "As much as I love you being so agreeable..." He didn't say anything more, just sat beside her and leaned against the headboard telling himself to get comfortable.

*****

"You didn't have to come right over." Audrey protested as the couple walked through her front door. She had heard enough from Laura to know the situation with Robin was more complicated than expected. She had been expecting a phone call from her granddaughter asking her to watch the children a little longer, not finding them on her doorstep.

"We didn't want to inconvenience you." Elizabeth fibbed, rubbing her tired eyes. The truth was she had to get away from the hospital. They both did. Outside of visiting Morgan, holding Nathan, or trying to get Patrick to hold his son, there wasn't much else they could do.

Robin had been moved out of surgery and into the recovery room. Dr. Lansing had sworn he had done everything he could, but short of actually calling her parents to come and verify his word (and that wasn't happening in this lifetime), she had to put trust in someone who had previously declared Nathan's birth was going to kill Robin. The nurses had encouraged them to talk with Robin, let her know they were there, same as when she had her car accident. But Elizabeth just couldn't do it.

Maybe it was because back then she had been ignorant of all the dangers. Robin was her friend, but certainly not her best friend. And back then there had been no dire warning about death. Between the twins' births, the custody fight, Steven's accident, and the wedding, it had honestly slipped her mind about Dr. Lansing's warnings. Robin had always looked so healthy. Always took such good care of herself and Nathan. And now those dire words might come true, thanks in large part to Logan.

She had never appreciated a violent, unplanned death before now. It probably meant a one way ticket to hell, but it was the truth. She was glad Logan was dead. He couldn't hurt anyone anymore. Courtney might still be out there somewhere, but no one believed she was really a threat. Logan had always been the wild card. And now he just wasn't. It might not make her a good person, but she was sincerely glad he was no longer scurrying around Port Charles like the lowlife rat he had been.

"Watching my great-grandchildren is never an inconvenience." Audrey corrected gently.

Lucky leaned over to kiss her cheek. "You'll change your mind once all three are in the middle of a sugar rush." He joked.

Telling lame jokes were the only thing keeping him sane right now. When he had gotten that phone call from Mac, he had steeled himself for it to be hard. When he went to tell Patrick what had happened, he realized it was going to be impossible. But seeing Patrick so close to a breakdown had unnerved him more than Lucky cared to admit. While he had realized how much Patrick loved Robin, somehow he had failed to recognize how desperately his cousin needed her. At some point in the past year, Patrick had obviously forgotten how it was to function without Shortstack. If the worst happened, Lucky didn't know how Patrick would even start to recover from it. He probably wouldn't recover from it. It was for the best if he just cracked dumb jokes and tried not to think about it.

Of course Lucky recognized that he would be in no better shape than his cousin if something happened to Elizabeth. Pulling her a little closer to him, he tucked her head under his chin. God please...he offered up the short prayer....just please. Yes he had lost Jess but that had been different. He got through that because he had to...Cameron needed him. If anything happened to Elizabeth the twins would need him. The same way Nathan needed Patrick now. Unfortunately Patrick was refusing to acknowledge that. He wasn't going to let his nephew get forgotten about. One way or another, with Cruz's help most likely, he was going to get Patrick to interact with his son.

"Daddy! Lizzie!" Cameron raced down the stairs excitedly to greet them. Skidding to a stop in front of them, he looked up grinning. "I was good. Just like you told me."

Kneeling down to meet Cameron's eyes, Lucky felt himself smile his first real smile since Nathan had met the family. This was the best decision they could have made. Time with Cameron, Jake, and Gracie would help clear their minds and then they could figure out what to do next.

*****

Thank God some of them had gone home. Patrick could, now that he was practically alone, think a little easier without them here. It was selfish for him to feel this way. They weren't all gone of course, but the number had decreased and that meant less people to stand around and judge him. No one thought he was doing the right thing. They just didn't understand.

He had always heard that loving someone meant giving a piece of your heart to someone, but they had it wrong. He hadn't given his heart to Robin; she had most likely always had it. And now that she was trapped in limbo, it didn't feel to him that half his heart was with her. On the contrary in fact. He felt like someone had sawed him right down the middle and she held all of his vital organs. It was a gruesome thought, but the only way he could think to describe how vital she was to his very existence.

Georgie and Lucas were taking turns spending time with Morgan; he, himself, couldn't make himself leave the waiting room. His preferred spot was directly in front of Robin's room. He hadn't the strength, the courage, to open the door and go and sit with her. What would that do anyway? She hadn't woken up last time because people had talked to her: she had made the decision to rejoin them on her own time. His eyes shut and he sucked in a cold breath. He had come apart at the seams last time, but not nearly as fast. Somehow he was weaker now, his life hooked up to machines. Wasn't that backwards? Shouldn't her love have been like spinach to Popeye? Stupid analogy, he chided himself. Lucky would call him a loser for even thinking it. Among the visitors, he wished Lucky was still here.

After all, who else could understand the unspeakable connection between Robin and the people she cared about but Lucky? He had known her far longer than Patrick and he loved her too. Patrick couldn't forget that. As much as he would like to believe that only he loved her, that she was strictly his, that wasn't the case. She was too bright a soul to belong to just one person, to affect just one person.

He thought about Nathan. True to his word, he hadn't yet held his son. It didn't make him a good guy, but he didn't believe it made him a bad one either. He would shield his son in a way he hadn't shielded his mother and brother. That little boy wouldn't be surrounded by anything but love and happiness. Patrick would not go to him in pieces. And if that made him a selfish prick, he supposed that's exactly what he was.

Elizabeth was right: Robin would hate him for it. Maybe that was part of his motivation: he wanted her to wake up and tell him he was making a mistake. It was a stupid hope, but there it was. She wouldn't approve and therefore would have no choice but to wake up and yell at him for it. He would be right here when she did.

Gripping the door handle, he slowly twisted it and let himself into the room. If it weren't for the machines and the tubes he could have convinced himself she was just sleeping. The double breasted hospital gown about swallowed her up. Did anyone else realize how incredibly tiny she was, how fragile? He bet not. She would never let them. She was a ball of fiery light, a shooting star in the bleak darkness. Patrick walked to the bed, his hand going to his mouth. He should go. He should run in the other direction. His heart wouldn't let him. For once his brain was being illogical, trying to protect him probably, and his heart was making sense. He couldn't leave her, not now or ever. He fell into the chair beside her bed.

"They said you can hear my voice. I don't know if I believe them or not, but it's worth a shot, isn't it?" His voice sounded foreign to him. He forced himself to keep talking. "I want to be mad at you for what you did. I want to yell to high heaven at you for not calling me or the police, but I can't do that, can I? You had no other choice. You were the target, not the boys. You. And I made you that didn't I? Mac was right. I did this to you." Patrick reached for her hand, wincing at how cold it was.

"I don't know if I ever told you this, but I hate the quiet. I used to love it. I used to revel in it, but not now. Not ever again. When you were gone, I thought I would die all alone in that silent apartment. Did I tell you that? Did you know that? Do you know how much I love you? How much your children love you? This isn't right. You shouldn't be in this bed. You've done nothing wrong up until this point." He took a breath. "You're wrong now. You're wrong to lay there and not even force air into your lungs. How dare you give up when we're counting on you? I know it's a lot of pressure to put on one person, but if the roles were switched, I'd expect you to be yelling at me too. This isn't what I signed up for. I'm not losing you." He leaned closer, his lips beside her right ear. "Do you hear me? Not now not ever. You open your eyes. Open them. Open your eyes."

He was shaking as he continued. "I don't care about statistics any more than I care about how unlikely the odds are. I never have. You've tried to drill into my head how probable--no, not probable, certain. Yes, certain. How certain you are that you're just going to die one day soon. Too bad. You aren't those other cases. You're different. You've always been different. Look at how long you've made it, how far past the rest of them you've already gone. This is not how I'm losing you. Not like this. No."

Patrick glanced up, seeing past the stark-white ceiling, past the outer layer of the sky. He didn't know what he was looking for. God maybe. The man he had hated for almost half his life. The man who had already stolen his mother from him. He couldn't mourn for his brother, maybe someday but not now. Logan had caused this. Him and his revenge. "Well you lose little brother." Patrick said aloud. "You don't get to take Robin away from me. My sons survived your brutality and so will my wife. My wife. She's not yours anymore. In a way she never was."

He turned back to the bed. "I haven't held Nathan yet. I haven't even met him. Whether or not he has your eyes, your smile—I don't have any idea. The doctors don't know what they're talking about." He said the last part to himself mostly. "They're depending on science, on odds, but I've already told you that those don't apply to you, right? That you're special? You've got to wake up. Open your eyes. Our baby needs you. If you give up, you're giving up on him, on Morgan. How can you do that? Don't they mean anything to you at all? Wouldn't you do anything for them? I'm not talking about sacrifice. That's for cowards. Giving up your own life for them isn't what they need from you. They need you to love them, to talk to them, and play with them. They need to know that they are the most important part of your life. Not me. Not you. Them."

"You have not stopped fighting since you were awarded custody of Morgan. When we found out about Nathan and that bastard told you to get rid of him, you were too stubborn to listen. Be stubborn now. Use it for something other than proving me wrong, won't you? I'll do whatever you want me to do if you'll just tell me what that is. I'll even let you win a game or two. I wasn't lying when I told you this racing thing was a one-time deal. If you don't want me to do it, tell me. Tell me right now and I'll back out of it. What do you need me to say, huh? What will make you fight to live?"

A single tear slid down Robin's face and Patrick finally let himself break. Short, choking sobs wracked through his entire body and he bent his head, his eyes never leaving her face. A machine beeped and his head lifted. Her chest rose and a shivering breath escaped her chapped lips. She didn't open her eyes or squeeze his hand in response, but in that moment he knew. He knew she was going to come back to him.