Chapter 11

Silence like a cancer grows

The rain dropped in a slow, steady rhythm as his car idled in the parking lot. Leaning forward over the steering wheel and peering up he could see the light in her bedroom and he knew she was home. Looking over at the pamphlets strewn on the passenger seat, he let out a deep sigh. Somehow in the short distance from Lainey's office to Robin's apartment he had begun to doubt his course of action. That Robin needed some kind of help was not in question but whether he could be the one to direct her to it was. His memory was filled with explosive, heartwrenching scenes of begging and pleading his father to get help; of telling Noah that if he went to rehab then he would be sure that his father loved him. There had been a painful and ill-advised intervention before he started his residency. Along with his grandmother and his aunt, they had confronted him one final time. There was yelling, screaming, things and accusations hurled with deadly accuracy to cause the most damage and at the end of it all, Noah had left the house telling them all to go to hell. He had never felt a greater sense of rejection than when the door slammed shut behind Noah. The scars from that night were still fresh and easy to open up.

And then he thought of Robin. And the way his heart hammered so hard inside his chest every time he saw her that he was sure she and everyone in a five mile radius could hear it. He thought of the way the light would play of her golden skin, agonizingly taunting him to reach out and trace his fingers along its smoothness. And then there was her heart - it was big and generous and filled with a seemingly endless capacity for love; it knocked him breathless and pushed him to be better in response. She was in need and he could help. He needed to show her that despite of life time of being let down by people who cared for her, she could count on him.

Gatherinig the pamphlets, he threw open his car door and dashed between raindrops to the front of her building. Once inside the building, he brushed the rain from his shoulders and headed up the three flights of stairs. Raising his hand to knock on her door, he was surprised to see it trembling. Chalking it up to nerves, he clenched it open and shut until the feeling passed and then finally brought it down on her door. He waited several beats, listening for any movement inside and when none was forthcoming, he knocked a second time. He was caught mid-knock as the door pulled open.

"What do you want Patrick?" Robin asked flatly.

Though she had just finished a 12 hour shift, he was still surprised to see her in her pajamas with her robe hanging haphazardly from her shoulders. "We need to talk" he replied, sticking his foot in the door as he anticipated her trying to close it on him.

"I'm too tired to talk anymore. Come back tomorrow or next week or maybe even next month, okay?" she asked, dragging her hand through her hair.

"Nope. Not okay" he said, reluctantly forcing his way in and closing the door behind him.

Her eyes landed on the pamphlets in his hand and she furrowed her brow. "What are those - take out menus?"

Following her gaze, he tightened his grip around them. So much for his plan to ease in to the discussion. "Not quite" he smiled weakly. "I, uh...I went to see Lainey today."

Suddenly on edge, Robin stiffened and folded her arms across her chest. Her robe fell from her shoulders and unable to help himself, Patrick reached out and pulled it up, his fingers grazing her skin as he did so. The electricity from that small movement caused his breath to hitch.

"Why did you go see Lainey?" she asked tightly, her jaw set.

He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck and taking a deep breath jumped in. "I'm worried about you."

"About me?" she scoffed. "I'm fine, okay? Just leave it alone."

"That's the thing Robin, you're not fine. You are struggling - a lot and I think you need help."

Her eyes blazed angrily as she glared at him. "You think I need help?" she screeched. "And so you went to talk to my friend about me? Behind my back? Why don't I just hand over my parents' phone numbers and you can have a chat with them as well? Maybe Brenda too? Heck why don't you all get together and just talk about me behind my back?"

The familiarity of the conversation unnerved him ever so slightly. "Robin, stop it" he said firmly but not unkindly. "I was talking to your friend behind your back. I was talking to my friend and asking her professional opinion because I am worried for you - I am scared for you."

"Jesus Patrick - drama queen much? I've had a bad couple of days - I'll eat some ice cream and get over it."

He shook his head as he moved closer towards her. "I don't think so Robin. It's not a bad couple of days - it's like a watershed brought on by April's death and memories of Stone. Added to that you've been trying to be brave and courageous for me with my HIV exposure and I think it's become all too much."

Stepping back from him, she angrily blew out her cheeks. "You're wrong."

"I don't think so" he said softly. He placed the pamphlets on the table and looked back at her. "These are pamphlets about support groups for people living with HIV and AIDS and I think maybe...I think...you may find it helpful to go."

"WHAT?" She shook her head violently. "I don't need a support group Patrick. I have been living with this disease for more than 10 years and doing just fine all on my own! There is nothing any of those groups can tell me about living with my disease - MY disease - that I don't already know. Support groups are for people who are weak."

"I go to a support group" he said softly. "I go to Al-Anon, a couple of times a month. I don't think I'm weak I just think sometimes its bigger than I am and I need to talk to people who understand where I'm coming from."

Her cheeks flushed in embarassment and she wondered how it was that even after all the time they had spent together that she had no idea he attended meetings. Her embarassment only slowed her anger. "Yeah, well. I mean, that's good for you but I don't need that Patrick. I don't need to talk to a bunch of strangers about HIV - I just don't."

His knees shook and he sank on to the arm of her couch. "No? Who do you talk to Robin?"

Scrunching up her face, she looked at him quizzically. "I don't understand what you mean."

"Who do you talk to about your HIV? When your protocol is kicking your ass - when you have to mask up at the hospital during cold and flu season and no one else does? Who do you talk to about that?"

"You" she answered quickly.

"But that's the thing, you don't. We don't ever talk about your HIV other than making sure I buy the right condoms. It wasn't until I was exposed that we had real, honest conversations about it and even then, you're still holding back."

"I'm holding back? I'M holding back? What about you? You never told me you went to Al-Anon."

"Seriously? You're trying to make this about me? Robin - baby - I think you may be depressed and if not depressed at least in need of support - a support that I can't provide, even though I want to."

"Oh this is rich" she spat. "One brief exposure to the virus and you think you're some kind of expert? You're going to test negative Patrick and you're life is going to go back to normal - but me? I have this in my system and I will die from it so please spare me your Dr. Phil insights."

He flinched at her comments. Though he knew that it was normal for people to lash out when cornered but her words sliced more closely to the bone than he had anticipated.

"I'm not an expert" he said evenly, opening and closing his left hand trying to ward of the pins and needles coursing through it. "But I do know a few things about depression and sadness and HIV or no HIV - you're in trouble. I'll be right by your side but you need to get some help." Picking up the pamphlets, he handed them to her

Ripping them from his hands, she balled them up and threw them to the floor. "Just leave it alone Patrick. Please - I'm asking you. "

"I can't"

"Why not?" she challenged, her temper rising.

"I just can't."

"I know why - because despite all the times you lectured me about sticking my nose in other people's business, you just can't resist the opportunity to do the same to me. It's like some kind of payback, right? For trying to help you with your father. Or maybe you fancy yourself a hero and want to swoop in and save the damsel in distress. Why don't you just go, okay? Go find someone HIV negative warm body to curl up with and you'll forget about me soon enough."

Gripping her by the shoulders he glared at her. "Don't you get it?" he asked in frustration. "Don't you get it?? I can't forget about you - I don't want to forget about you - God Dammit Robin I am IN LOVE with you."

She stared at him, unmoving, for several beats. "Get out" she hissed.