He hadn't intended to fall asleep. It had just happened. He had only sat down for a minute but it somehow turned into hours. Yawning, David pulled himself up with one hand, rubbing his face with the other as he adjusted himself on the couch. Spotting Samantha sitting on the chair, he offered her a slight smile. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"I don't know." Sam admitted, stretching. "A while."

"Did you go to the hospital?" He remembered her plan to go see if she could help. Then they were otherwise distracted.

"I did. I talked to Alexis for a minute."

"And how did that go?"

"It was enlightening."

"Care to expand on that?"

"We just talked. That's all." Sam repeated adamantly.

"You seem a little defensive on that point." David moved closer to her, perching on the coffee table. "How's everything going over there?"

"Same mostly. Robin hasn't woken up. She started breathing on her own, but the doctors are basically doing their best to convince the family that there is no hope to be had. It's messed up." She ran her hand through her hair and left her fingers entangled in the strands.

"Hey." Reaching up he took her hands into his own, careful to not yank her hair in the process. She was practically shaking and he had no idea why. Probably something to do with her conversation with Alexis. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." Sam explained, her lips not moving as she spoke the words.

"You don't look it."

"I told her about Vincent."

Well that explained everything. Needing no further information, David pulled her into his arms, letting her weight rest on his lap. "No wonder you're spooked."

"I don't need you to comfort me." Sam assured him, her shoulders stiffening.

"Too bad."

"She started crying."

"Of course she did." David reasoned. "You're her daughter. It makes sense."

"I didn't tell her who killed him. I said they never caught him."

"You'll tell her when you're ready."

"No." Sam shook her head violently. "I can't do that."

"Not now." David agreed, running his hand through her hair. "But someday. I'll help if you want."

"Planning on sticking around that long, are you?" Sam shoved him away and got to her feet. She thought better when she paced anyway. "I can't tell her without implicating both of us."

"Somehow I don't think Alexis Davis is going to be all that concerned with the details on how Jason Morgan died."

"She's married to the commissioner. I bet he'll care."

"Mac Scorpio?" David quirked his eyebrow. "Hardly. He'd probably just be upset he didn't get to join in the fun."

"It's so easy to be you, isn't it? No family attachments. No baggage. Free as a bird."

"I'm not free." David shook his head. He may not see them much or even at all, but his mother and sister still lived in Port Charles. When they weren't drunk or stoned, they were too busy begging him to keep their latest boyfriend/husband/baby daddy out of jail. He had attachments; he just chose not to recognize them. "My situation is just different that's all."

"How so?"

"It's just different. Trust me." He shook his head.

"I don't know anything about you." Sam realized. "My entire life is on display all the time, open for your ridicule, but I can't ask a few questions about yours?"

"I don't ridicule your life. I just want you to face it. I faced my reality a long time ago Gorgeous. There's no need to rehash it."

Sam forced herself to take a deep breath and count to ten. He was the most stubborn man she had ever met. What was his deep, dark secret? And why did she suddenly want to know? On some level, it had always bothered her. With each moment they spent together he gained insight into her life but she didn't know anything about his. She didn't know why he posed as a cop instead of just sticking to the rules and being one for real. While she doubted he was using a fake name, she couldn't disregard the possibility. "I just want to know you."

"You know me. You know me better than anyone." It was true. Samantha didn't know his sordid family history, but she knew far more than any other lover since he left home. She knew he cooked, she knew how he could still screw up laundry, and that he preferred to read the newspaper in bed.

Sam returned to her spot on his lap. "Then why don't you trust me? What do you think I'm going to do with what you tell me?"

"I do trust you." He wrapped his arms securely around her waist. "That's not the reason I don't talk about my past. My past has nothing to do with my future."

She held out her left pinkie. "Would you feel more comfortable if we pinkie swore on it?"

"What are the terms?"

"You answer my questions and I never ask you about it again."

"Depends on the questions."

"You can't add conditions."

He sighed. "Fine."

"Okay. Okay." She tried to keep her voice calm. "Is David Harper your real name?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Thought I was in love? Yes. But actually in love?" David paused to consider her question. "The jury is still out on that one."

"Are your parents still together?"

"Nope. My father left before I was born."

"Ass. Okay, um, are you an only child?"

"Nope. Older sister."

"What was your favorite thing to do when you were a kid?"

Hide out from the drug dealers and abusers his mother favored? No, that answer might lead to further questions. "I read. A lot."

"Let me guess. Mysteries?"

"It certainly wasn't romance novels."

"Did you have any pets?"

"No." David wouldn't have put it past some of the more award winning creeps that decorated his childhood to torture any pet he might have had just for fun. Even as a child he had recognized the importance of being cautious.

"Not even a goldfish? Sorry. You answered my question." She glanced down. "Do you stay in contact with your family?"

"Rarely. And it's only when they contact me." He added in before she could ask a follow-up question.

"Why?"

"It's just better this way."

"Better for whom?"

"Me but really everyone."

He watched her strangely when she didn't continue to pester him. "What?" She tried not to laugh.

"You have nothing more to ask?"

"Did they hurt you?" Sam's voice was very small when she asked this, but she made herself maintain eye contact with him. She held his face in her hands when he tried to look away.

"No." Physically he hadn't been hurt. They had never touched him. But that didn't mean he had fewer nightmares until he had escaped.

Sam wished she hadn't asked the last question. He was a block of steel next to her, his face expressionless. Closing her eyes, she rested her ear against his chest and let his heartbeat drown out her own indecision. Her arms wound around his waist and she tried to hold him as tightly to her as she could. "I'm sorry."

"What for? I said I'd answer your questions."

"For saying I didn't know you. I do know you." She traced the inside of his palm with her thumb.

"Of course you do. I keep telling you, we're the same Samantha."

"Can we just sit here a minute?" she murmured.

"We can sit here as long as you want." He promised, kissing the top of head.

*****

Steven glanced from his watch to his cell phone, calculating the time difference. If it was eleven here, it must be seven in Port Charles. He would chance it. How many days had it been since they had talked? She was distracted, but she wouldn't tell him why. Even when he teased her about it, she would clam up and change the subject. It was confusing and he didn't like it. At least if they were face-to-face he could have some clue as to what she was thinking. He dialed the familiar number and leaned back on the hotel bed. He counted the cracks in the ceiling while the phone rang and rang. Just when he was about to give up, he heard a click. "Georgie?"

"Steven?" She had checked her phone without checking the caller ID. He had caught her unaware and unprepared.

"I was beginning to think you forgot about me." Steven joked uneasily.

"Never. You're impossible to forget." She tried to keep a light tone in her voice. It was becoming impossible to keep his questions at bay and she hated lying to him, but she was not going to have him ruin his career over this.

"Have you had dinner yet?"

"A little at the hospital."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Did you eat?"

"There wasn't time. We've been working from sun up to sundown. I just thought I might catch you before you ate and then we could have a meal together."

"I'm sorry; maybe we can plan to do that the next time?"

"Yeah. We'll schedule it next time."

She could hear the disappointment in his voice clearly and hated that she was the reason for it. More than ever she wanted to drop out of school, fly across the world, and jump into his arms, but then her practical side would take over. That wasn't the solution. That couldn't be the solution. There had to be something she hadn't thought of yet. Maybe she could pick Maxie's brain for ideas before her sister ran back to California. "I miss you so much."

Steven covered his eyes, blocking out the weak light of the empty room. "I miss you too."

"Patrick finally came to see Nathan today." Georgie offered, trying to find something positive to talk about.

"Really?" Steven tried to sound interested. He wished they could just talk about each other, but she had to hide behind her family's drama. As if they didn't have enough of their own.

"Yeah. He just came in as I was leaving."

"How is Nathan?"

"He'd be doing better if he would sleep or if he got more attention from his parents. But I think he'll be fine."

"And Robin?"

"No change." Georgie sighed.

"I'm sorry. She will wake up."

"I know. I just may need you to remind of that though."

"You can count on it."

"Good." She whispered, smiling at his reassurance. "So tell me all about the movie."

"Epic love story. Drama. Obstacles. Not a shabby love scene in the mix." Steven ticked off with a chuckle.

"I would hope not."

"Still...I think you and I could teach these actors a few things."

"Of course we could." Georgie chuckled lightly. "But who would believe our story?"

"I like our story."

"I love our story."

"Have you heard anything?"

She had walked right into that one hadn't she? "Not yet. I'm hoping to hear something by the end of the week."

"It's taking an awful long time. You applied before I even left." He was speaking mostly to himself.

"It's probably just university politics and red tape."

"Maybe if we hadn't done this so close to the beginning of the semester..."

"No Steven, I'm sure I'll hear something soon. Just don't worry about it ok?" she pleaded with him.

"I just want you here with me."

"There's nowhere else I want to be."

Steven bit his tongue against everything else he wanted to say. "I love you. Let me know if anything breaks."

"You're the first on my list. I love you."

*****

"I knew." Patrick whispered. He stood outside the nursery, his face pressed up against the glass. The bustling nurses were off doing something at the moment; he wasn't used to seeing the floor so quiet. He forced himself to walk into the nursery and had no problem finding his son. "I knew you would look just like your mother."

It was true. His face was almost an exact duplicate of Robin's. He had her nose, her ears, even her eyes. Nathan's eyes didn't have to be open for him to know they were brown; he also knew from his constant wiggling that he wasn't asleep. He probably didn't trust that Patrick wasn't a threat to him and therefore refused to open his eyes until he could figure out what he should do next. The hair was Patrick's at least both in color and style. "Sorry about that." He apologized to the baby, fingering the curls. "I hear you're not sleeping. What's that about? I've been reading a lot and you're going against everything the experts say."

He paced the room a minute trying to decide what he should do next. Bobbie might not have been right outside the door watching him, but he knew she was close by. She would know what to do. His focus returned to the wiggling brunette in the plastic crib. "I'm going to pick you up and you can cry if you want to. It won't spook me. God's given me a lot of practice." He thought about Lucky's children and wondered how he would have reacted if the situation were reversed, if Elizabeth was the one hooked up the machines. "Your uncle Lucky is a far better man than I am." Patrick admitted. He leaned over the crib and carefully lifted him out of the bed. "There now." He murmured when Nathan didn't cry. He rolled over and snuggled deeper into his father's arms.

"Comfortable?" He inquired with a dim smile. "We're going to have a talk, you and I. This insomnia thing isn't going to last. I'm your dad and you've got to trust that I know what I'm talking about. I hear you're already getting grouchy." Not that Nathan showed any signs of that now. Maybe Bobbie had told a little fib to get him over here. Whatever her reason, he was overcome with a multitude of emotions. Despair for the very real possibility that Nathan would never meet his mother. Fear that he wouldn't be able to raise the boys without her. An irrational premonition that he would be as terrible a father as Noah had been. Coupled with those feelings, he also experienced all-encompassing love for the child in his arms. For the little boy that depended on him for everything, who would need him no matter what happened.

Nathan whined and Patrick decided to do the walk and rock as his mother had called it. How many times had he watched her with Logan? Heard her tell them stories when they had bad dreams? Patrick gritted his teeth together. It was too hard. He couldn't escape the memories, especially not now. Logan should have been here, holding his nephew. He should have come to the wedding. Everything over the last year, ever bad thing he had done, was still so unbelievable to Patrick. Logan had never been a saint, but to think that he was capable of such monstrous acts..."Well if you're going to cry..." Patrick muttered and he and Nathan shared a few tears.

Patrick collected himself a few minutes later, his shoulders sagging under a weight no one else could feel. "What would you say to a little dinner? I mean, I did wake you up and all. The least I can do is feed you." He added spotting a nurse come into the room with a bottle prepared. "Thanks." He held up the bottle, letting Nathan follow it with his eyes. "You have to stop crying." He bargained. Nathan wasn't buying it. "Alright. Alright. Just as stubborn as your mother." He shook his head, massaging Nathan's lips with the nipple until his mouth opened. "Okay, maybe I'm a little stubborn as well."

Nathan watched Patrick as he guzzled the formula down, his clever cinnamon eyes missing nothing. "That's okay. I don't want any." He teased, tickling his son under his chin. "I'm sorry I was late, but I'm here now." He promised. "And I'll be here."