Luke pushed on Patrick's shoulder until his nephew started. "There you are." He said with emphasis, his eyes softening when he noticed Nathan in his arms.

"Here I am." Patrick yawned, shifting Nathan to his other arm. His hands were numb from where his son had been resting for hours.

"The doctors asked me to come and find you." Luke whispered.

Patrick's eyebrows shot up. "Why? Did something happen? Is Robin awake?"

"She's not awake." Luke confirmed.

"Then what do they need to see me about?" Patrick snapped in frustration.

"I think it's the fact that she's not awake yet that has them concerned." Luke suggested. "That's just my assumption. Neither Dr. Walker nor Dr. Lansing said anything of the sort."

"Where are they?" Patrick asked returning Nathan to his bed.

"I couldn't say where Dr. Walker is. Ever since Robin's allergic reaction, she's been pretty scarce." Luke replied. "I do know that Dr. Lansing is waiting for you in Robin's room though."

Patrick snuck a glance at Nathan and then forced himself to leave the nursery for the first time in two days. "I know it's a silly request..."

"I'll stay with the baby." Luke promised with a quick shake of his head. "Go and see about his mama."

Patrick lost count of the steps it took to get to Robin's room; it was all he could do to remind himself to breathe. He found Dr. Lansing standing next to Robin's bed double-checking the status of the machines she was hooked up to. The older man glanced up and Patrick inwardly shivered. "You wanted to see me." It would be best to get to the point while he could still function enough to speak.

"Yes." Ric turned away from his patient and faced Patrick. "I know that there has been a lot of speculation since Robin started breathing on her own..."

"Much to your aggravation." Patrick accused sharply.

"I know you think I hold some sort of grudge against your family, but let me assure you..."

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Patrick interrupted.

"It's been almost a week since Robin was brought in."

"A hundred and twelve hours, forty-one minutes, and a handful of seconds actually." Patrick corrected.

Ric looked a little startled. "In that time, we were hoping that she might show some sort of progress."

"She's breathing on her own. That's more than enough proof that she's going to get through this."

"Not necessarily." Ric countered. "Look, I—"

"No."

"The conditions with which your wife has already gone through with the delivery and then the hemorrhaging...breathing on her own or not, she's shown no positive signs of awareness."

"How dare you give up on her? She is going to come through this!"

"Forgive me, but this is your emotional standpoint not fact."

"Do you enjoy tormenting me? It's all I can do to keep from flying apart in front of my children."

"I'm trying to get you to face facts here, Mr. Drake. You need to accept that your wife may never recover."

"I can't do that."

"I know it's hard to think about it now."

"It's impossible."

"Nevertheless, it's not fair to leave her in this state indefinitely."

"What would you suggest?" Patrick asked slowly, his words catching slightly in his throat.

"Did you know your wife has an organ donor card?"

"You're not saying this." Patrick stuttered.

"She wanted her life to mean something beyond living."

"What would you know about her life?"

"You can't just ignore a request like that."

"She's still alive."

"Not technically."

"Get out of here!" Patrick ordered advancing on Ric.

"I'm only telling you the truth. It's not fair to keep Robin locked in this limbo."

"She's not dead until the moment she stops breathing."

"And what if that happens? Are we to save her when she's more or less gone?"

"Your job is to save people."

"My job is to save the living. If Robin dies, will you still ignore her wishes?"

"The only thing my wife wants is to be with her children."

"And one day she will be. It just may not be on this plane of existence."

"What is it you want me to do? Send her off to the butcher block?"

"This is what she wanted, Patrick. How can you deny the last wish of a woman you claim to love? She wants to help someone else. Maybe that means a healthy heart for someone else. Think about it." Ric left the room then.

*****

Sam didn't know what to make of her conversation with David. He had opened up to her in every way with one exception, but she saw no reason to push right now. That didn't mean she wasn't curious though. Part of her really wanted to explore his past more without his careful edits.

He wouldn't like it, she bet. He had told her all he was willing to and that should have been enough for her. Except it wasn't. Instead of his answers pacifying her, she was even hungrier for the answers he hadn't given. Especially about his family. They must have been especially terrible for him to have cut them out of his life.

She didn't care what he said: he didn't see them at all. There were helpers and users in this world and his mother and sister sounded like users. He was the baby too so there was no telling what they had convinced him to do as a child. Sam shuddered to think about specifics. Something had severed the relationship with them and she just had to know what that had been.

Was her insatiability because she loved him? In a way, but she bet that wasn't the basis of it. From what she could tell—and she still had a lot to learn about him and men in general—they had a lot more in common than she had realized. Child abuse and manipulation had definitely been factors. Did some part of him choose to be a cop because of the lawlessness during his childhood?

She had lost count of the number of cons she had done for her father. Before each one, when her conscience would cause a pain in his side, he would remind her that he could just as easily work his jobs alone and send her to the foster home. As a small child, there had been nothing more frightening. The nightmares his stories had provoked…

Now that she knew the truth about how she came to live with her father she couldn't help but wonder what he had wanted her so badly for. She must have slowed him down an awful lot over the years and people tended to remember a grown man traveling with a little girl. He had never hurt her physically at least and that was the only concession she had where he was concerned. Her life could have been so much worse. What had happened to David? The need to ask him was overwhelming. She had to let it go. No good would come out of knowing. He would shut down even more and she didn't think she could handle that.

It was bad enough he was being standoffish with her now. She should have guessed that prying into his past would be the worst thing she could do. As much as she wanted to know, there had to have been a better way to find out than coming at him directly.

Before she could chicken out, she reached across the couch and grabbed his jacket. Somehow in the last few minutes of speculation she had become cold, so cold, and she longed for the warmth his jacket would provide. It was nothing compared to his actual body heat, but he was busy working and she would have to make do with what she had. She took his wallet and turned the flap up smiling when she found what she had been looking for. "Well, look at that." She said to no one. "It looks like someone has a birthday coming up."

Opening the door, David blinked at the sight of her wrapped up in his jacket. He had made it almost to the station before realizing he had left his wallet sitting in the apartment. It had annoyed him his entire drive back to the apartment, but somehow the mere sight of her made the annoyance a little less. "So is this what you do when I'm not around before your show starts?"

"You caught me." Sam pushed the jacket off and crossed the room to wrap her arms around him. "Mmm. Much better."

It was automatic to wrap his arms around her small frame. He smiled at the top of her head. "I forgot my wallet. I should go right back."

"Do you have to?" Sam couldn't help but ask.

"I could be late, if I had a good reason."

"A good reason? Hmm." Sam leaned up and kissed his smiling mouth, her hands cupping his face.

David tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her a little closer. "Well, I have been putting in a lot of overtime lately." He drawled before returning the kiss.

"That you have." She traced her fingers over the only wrinkle in his black shirt and pulled the material up just enough to feel his skin. Unintentionally, she shivered.

"You cold?" He asked, his fingers running up her back, tugging at the cotton t-shirt as they went. "Do you need to warm up?"

"What do you think?" Sam laughed, pulling him into another kiss. "You know."

"What do I know?"

Sam grabbed his hands and tugged him onto the floor. "I don't want to go upstairs."

"I always have found this floor rather comfortable." David agreed pulling her body to him before capturing her lips with his.

"I think we need to keep our options open." Sam explained pushing her shirt up and dragging it over her head.

His hands began to roam over her newly revealed skin, teasing her with light touches. "Never could stand routine."

*****

"Do you want to play Turtles with me?" Lance prompted when he found his older cousin sitting on the couch in their living room staring out into space. "You get to choose which one you want to be. I like Raphael, but you can be him if you want him."

Morgan looked past his cousin, seemingly right through him. He hadn't spoken in a couple of days and it didn't seem to bother anyone but Patrick. Patrick couldn't stand the quiet. Mommy had said so. Not that Mommy was saying anything right now either. He wondered if she would really wake up. And if she didn't, would the adults continue to lie to him?

Lance watched him hopefully and Morgan decided to go play the game, or at least watch his cousin play. He didn't feel much like doing anything right now, but he also didn't want to make Lance unhappy. He took the offered controller even though he knew it wasn't plugged in. Lance didn't notice, only played and assumed the second player on the screen was Morgan, instead of the computer.

"Hey guys! Want something to eat?" Dillon asked carrying a plate full of cookies he had liberated from the drawer Lucas hid them in. Emergency Stash his husband had called them. Well he was calling this an emergency.

Lance peeked over the couch. "What have you got?"

"Oreos. Double stuffed."

"YAY!" Lance giggled reaching for them. "Oreos. Oreos. Oreos."

"What about you Morgan?" Dillon asked, offering the plate out. It seemed strange but he was almost getting used to having his questions ignored completely. He decided to take any decision Morgan made on his own as progress. At least he hadn't let out any of those terror-filled screams since he left the hospital.

Morgan shrugged and took a cookie, shoved it into his mouth, and dutifully chewed. Dillon demanded nothing of him and he liked that.

"Knew you had good taste my man." Dillon clapped Morgan on the back. "So what are you two up to?"

"We're playing Turtles, Daddy." Lance announced through chewing.

Dillon looked quizzically down at the controller, noticing the dangling wire. "Not that I'm not a big fan of the Turtles there bud, but how are you both playing if Morgan's controller isn't plugged in?"

"It is, Daddy. It is." Lance rolled his eyes at his father's assumption.

Dillon looked over at Morgan, whispering conspiratorially. "He gets that stubbornness from Lucas. Sometimes, it just easier to do something than argue with him." With that, he plugged the controller into the box. "There. That might make it easier on you to beat him."

Morgan took another cookie and stared at the television screen. Lance chirped happily beside him.

It couldn't be said he hadn't tried, Dillon reasoned as he watched the two. Lance had been so happy to have Morgan come over; the fact his cousin hadn't actually talked to him didn't even seem to register. He and Lucas had decided to take Patrick's lead and just talk to Morgan as if they expected him to answer. In the back of his mind, Dillon pictured a scene out of The Miracle Worker, but quickly dismissed it since he didn't know real sign language from the more universal obscene version. And trying to communicate with Morgan that way may earn him exile from the Cool People Club by Robin.

"Daddy Lucas is making his special sauce tonight so don't fill up on all the cookies." Dillon warned. "You don't want me to eat it all."

"Oh, Morgan, did you hear that?" Lance goaded.

The phone rang and with sigh Dillon reached out his hand to answer it. "Hello."

"Hey Dillon." Patrick greeted shakily. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Name it."

"Can you bring Morgan up to Robin's room?"

"Is there any change?"

"Something has definitely changed alright."