Chapter 15

Inside my head there lives a dream that I want to see in the sun
Behind my eyes there lives a me that I've been hiding for much too long

Patrick smirked as Robin flopped on to the couch beside him. "You are deliberately trying to provoke me" he asserted, as he folded his arms across his chest.

In the two weeks since they had finally admitted their feelings for each other, they had spent almost every waking, and non-waking moment, together. Robin was moving in baby steps to deal with the feelings that April Gilbert's death had awoken in her. She saw Lainey for coffee once a week and was continuing to warm to the idea of support group. Patrick continued to encourage her and support her and Robin rewarded him by letting down her walls brick by well-built brick. The result for both of them was a deepening of the connection that had been between them from the first day they met.

Robin batted her eyes innocently. "I'm provoking you?"

"By wearing that shirt." He nodded at her. "You know how I feel about it and yet here you sit, in that shirt."

"It's a nice shirt" she protested as she smoothed the front of it.

"It is most certainly not a nice shirt."

"Well you and I disagree. I like this shirt and I'm wearing it." Her rich, brown eyes twinkled with daring; she was feeling more like herself with each passing day. "Now pass me a beer, would you?"

"Nope" he grinned. "I am not passing you a beer, while you are wearing that shirt. In fact, I think you should take it off and be forced to sit here topless."

Rolling her eyes, Robin crawled over him and stretched out to retreive a beer.

Unable to help himself, Patrick slid his hand under shirt and stroked her smooth skin. He smiled as he watched her eyes flutter closed and her breath hitch. "I could make it very worth your while to take it off" he said huskily as he pressed his lips towards her ear.

"I bet" she said, her eyes hooding over. Staring at his full mouth, her tongue unconciously darted from her mouth and swept across her lips. Tilting her head to the side, she nipped at his lips, swallowing down a moan as his hands continued to burrow under her shirt. Slowly letting go of his mouth, Robin pulled back, meeting his eyes. "I'm keeping the shirt on." Patrick groaned as she scampered from his lap and back to her seat on the couch.

"Robin, baby, it's bad enough you cheer for the New Jersey Devils but do you have to wear a Martin Brodeur sweater at the same time? You are hurting my Ranger heart."

Giggling, Robin took a sip of her beer. "That's not all that's going to hurt your Ranger heart. My boys are going to whip your boys - like they always do."

As he shook his head, he twisted the cap from the beer bottle, flicking it to the garbage can in the far corner of his room. "I don't understand how you can grow up in Port Charles and wind up a Devils fan. How can you not like the Rangers? They are confident, talented and bold."

Pulling her knees to her chest, Robin slipped her hockey sweater over her legs in order to display her team's logo more prominently. "Oh please. They aren't confident, they're arrogant. They act like they have an entitlement to the Stanley Cup. And they aren't bold, they're brash - big city swagger, underestimating the power and talent of those residing in the smaller towns-" Her voice dropped off as she tapped her chin thoughfully. "Of course that explains why you like them - they're just like YOU!"

Gasping, Patrick mockingly clutched his chest. "You wound me Scorpio, WOUND me." As he set his beer down on the table, he reached across the couch and wrapping his arms around her, pulled her to his lap. Robin giggled as she stared into his eyes. "You are a bad, bad girl Scorpio."

"Maybe" she teased, "but it doesn't mean I'm wrong."

Pushing her hair to the side to reveal the graceful line of her neck, he pressed his lips to her skin. "Take it back" he demanded, his voice vibrating against her skin.

"Nope" she sighed, trying to ignoring the tingling working its way through her body. He had the capacity to reduce her to a puddle with a heated look, the feel of his lips on her skin was enough to make her forget her name.

"Take it back" he repeated as he worked his tongue in small circles in the hollow of her neck.

"Not a chance" Her voice betrayed her rising desire. "Besides, the game starts in five minutes and I want to watch you cry like a girl as your team has its ass handed to it."

Sliding his hand under the sweater, he started to knead her breast and watched in delight as her eyes started to roll back and her breath hitched. "You were saying?"

"I...god...I-" Her stammering was interrupted by the shrill ring of her telephone. "Saved by the bell!" Sliding quickly from his lap, she ran to the kitchen.

Smiling broadly, Patrick reached for his beer and took a long sip. He turned on the television and leaning back against the couch, waited for the puck drop. He continued to flex and squeeze his left hand. Though he continued to have ongoing tingling in his fingertips, there had not been another incident like the one in the OR a few weeks back. Chalking it up to fatigue and stress, he had cancelled his appointment with Dr. O'Brien in Ortho and concentrated instead on supporting his girlfiend.

Girlfriend. He still couldn't quite believe that he had one - that he had one like Robin. He had never met anyone in his life before her that had been worth standing still for. He had heard his friends talk about how being in love changed everything for them, how they saw colours differently, appreciated their surroundings more. He had chalked it up to too many romance novels and self help books but now he got it. The one thing he didn't understand was how people fell in love more than once. It had taken him this long to find Robin - to find someone who made him feel like anything was possible, that the future was worth contemplating. How on earth did people ever find a second or third person for that to happen with? He couldn't quite explain it but somewhere in the back of his brain, he knew that Robin would be the only woman he would ever love.

There was a slope to Robin's shoulders, as she came back to the living room, that caught his attention immediately. He knew she was still struggling with everything and her progress remained fragile. Clearly there was something about the phone call that had taken the wind from her sails.

"Baby?" he quietly called to her as he held out his hand.

Robin forced a smile and taking his hand, let him pull her down beside him. She curled her body beside his and rested her head on his shoulder. "Any score yet?"

"No. Who was on the phone?"

"Ms. Sneed."

"Oh? What did that praying mantis want?"

Lifting her head, Robin gave him a crooked grin. "Praying mantis?"

"Come on - she looks like an instinct and if she could ever find a man to date her, I'm sure she'd rip his head from his body after sex just for the hell of it."

Laughing, Robin buried her head in his shoulder. "You're terrible" came the muffled admonition.

"No...I'm bad. Just how you like me." He curled his fingers through her hair. "What did she want?"

Realizing he wasn't about to let the subject drop, Robin uncurled herself from him and leaned back against the couch. "She's organizing the Nurses Ball and has asked me to give a speech."

There was an air of resignation to her tone that made him cautious and he watched her face carefully. "Do you - do you want to give a speech?"

She shrugged as she pulled at the imaginary lint on her hockey sweater. "I always have - every year that we've had the Nurses Ball, I've given one."

"Why?"

Furrowing her brow, she tossed him an exasperated look. "Because. Because it's to raise money for HIV and AIDS and who would you have speak, if not me?"

"Do you want to give a speech?"

Robin pulled her legs to her chest again, making herself compact and impenetrable. "I have to."

Patrick looked at her in surprise and reaching for the remote, turned off the television. "Robin" he said softly as he touched her knee. "Do you want to give a speech?"

She sighed heavily and wrapped her arms around her legs. "I have to Patrick," she repeated, her eyes finally meeting his. "I am..I'm the girl with HIV."

Running his hands over his face, he exhaled slowly. "That's a lousy reason to give a speech" he said softly. "That's a lousy reason to get up in front of family, colleagues and strangers and give a speech."

"You don't understand" she snapped.

"Then explain it to me."

"I'm...I'm a symbol - I mean an example of life with HIV."

"Is that what you want?" he asked curiously, well aware of the danger signals and alarm bells that were going off around them.

Sighing in frustration, she shook her head. "You don't understand Patrick- you weren't here. I was diagnosed in the early, ugly days of AIDS. Back when people thought only gay people could get it and it was a punishment from God. They certainly never thought it could happen to a young, straight girl having sex for the first time - and they were terrified. But 10 years later, I'm still here and for the most part, pretty healthy and that's important for them to see. They're less afraid now."

Patrick let the words roll around in his head, weighing and measuring them, before he responded. "So in other words, you get up on the stage and do the one thing you hate - for a night, you define yourself - for other people - by your disease."

"It's not like that" she protested quietly.

"No?" he queried, his brown eyes watching hers.

Exhaling, she unfurled her legs. "Okay, it's a little like that."

"Do you like giving the speech?"

Robin shrugged again, dropping her eyes. "It...if it helps to make people more comfortable with HIV and AIDS then it's worth it."

"I don't understand that" he admitted. "I don't understand how you have worked so hard to get people to see you as a whole person, as more than just your diagnosis and then you throw it all away so that others are 'comfortable' with it."

"Patrick -"

"Have you ever told them the truth?"

Robin's heart was beating rapidly inside her chest. She had shared more with Patrick - unintentionally at times - about living with HIV than she had with anyone else. He had never seemed afraid of her - never looked for comfort or reassurance that being HIV+ was not as bad as people thought it was. He had accepted her as she was. "Wh-what do you mean, truth?"

"Have you ever told them the dark side? How there are times you can't sleep because you have a cold and you're worried that it will become more? Have you ever told them about the patients refusing to be treated by you because you have to disclose your status to them and they are too afraid to let them touch you?" His eyes shimmered with a hint of tears. "Have you ever told them about your fear of your protocol failing?"

Biting down on her lip, she shook her head.

"I think they should hear it all. I think people should know that it's not just taking a couple of pills every day like they're Flintstone vitamins and then you go on your merry way. Robin, you are one of the bravest people I have ever met and if people are really interested in hearing from someone who is HIV+, on what it means, then they should hear it all and understand the type of courage you exhibit on a daily basis."

She wiped furiously at her eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling. "Why are you okay with it? Why are you okay with me being HIV+?"

He pulled her to his lap, draping his arm around her. "I'm not" he said quietly.

"But I thought...you-"

"I'm not okay with you being HIV+ Robin. I want to take it away from you - I want you to be healthy and carefree. I ha- I hate that you have this but I love you" he said hoarsely. "All of you," he emphasized. "For you to be defined by being HIV+ is an insult to everything else you contribute and offer to the world. You are so much more than your disease."

As her eyes brimmed with tears, Robin wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her head against him. "How did I get so lucky?"

"I'm the lucky one" he clarified. "Falling in love with you has changed my life."