Chapter 21

Spirit open to a thrust of grace
Never a breath you can afford to waste

"Are you trying to steal my chocolate chip cookies?"

Caught rifling through the cookie plate, Robin froze as she was and smiled. "Hey Darren."

"Don't 'Hey Darren' me," he teased. "I have been calling dibs on those cookies for more than a year now. Don't think just 'cause you're a doctor at this hospital you can usurp me."

Giggling lightly, she turned to face him and handed him her cookie stash. "I..uh...I was getting them for you."

Taking the proffered biscuits, he winked. "You're looking pretty pleased with yourself and why do I think that cookies aren't really a factor?"

Shuffling to the coffee urn, Robin flicked the tab back and filled her mug. Shrugging non-chalantly, she reached for the sugar packet. "Am I?" she asked. Seeing his expectant look, her lips turned upwards in a smile. "I don't know - I guess - I guess I'm just in this really good place in my life right now. Things with Patrick couldn't be better and coming here is helping me. I feel - I feel less stressed or not as tightly wound as I used to."

"That's great Robin" he said, grinning.

She nodded. "I know. You know it took...it took me almost crashing and burning completely to admit that I needed support but now that I've found it, it's making all the difference."

For so long she had been afraid to admit to even herself that being HIV+ was a burden. There were too many people who expected her, who needed her, to be okay with her diagnosis. She needed to be okay with her diagnosis and over the years had convinced herself that it was completely manageable. She had blocked out the dreams about her mortality; she had refused to give voice to her fears of dying a slow, painful death; for herself and for everyone she had put the best possible face on what was, at times, a devastating reality.

April's death, the anniversary of Stone's passing and having Patrick exposed to HIV had set in motion an unstoppable course that had lead her exactly to where she was. She was not yet in a place where she was okay with those events but she was grateful that they had pushed her to do something. She was grateful that Patrick had not only stayed when he said he would but that he cared enough to push her when she needed it.

Armed now with the knowledge that he was looking to buy a house in Port Charles, that he wanted to make his stay a permanent one, she could not help but feel hopeful for the future - her future. Truly and unabashedly hopeful for the first time since she had left for Paris.

"That's what this group does" Darren confirmed as he took a bite from his cookie. "I'm glad that you're here when you're feeling so good about yourself."

Tilting her head to the side, she looked at him curiously. "Why?"

"Because when life is going really well, it's easy to let something like this drop. But I think it's as important to build up your emotional immunity as it is your physical immunity. If you continue to come when life is good then you'll have more to draw on when it gets rough."

Robin took a long sip from her coffee and considered his words; they resonated deeply with her. There had been difficult days in the past and even when she had found the courage to talk to one of her friends about them, she had consistently held back for fear of overwhelming them. Most people, when hearing of another's problems or worries, always tried to fix it for them. But sometimes you didn't need the problem fixed - or it simply couldn't be fixed - sometimes you just needed someone to hear you. The support group did that for her and she understood that she needed it as much when things were working well as when they weren't.

Tapping her chin with her index finger, she pursed her lips together. "I...I know I haven't yet spoken formally in this setting but I was wondering what you thought if I did so next week?"

Looking at her in surprise, he nodded. "Of course Robin. It's an open floor and you can speak whenever you'd like - but you don't have to speak - ever."

"I know" she said softly. "It's just that I'm working on something that I'd like to run by the people here. Patrick has suggested that I make it as authentic as possible and before I unveil it to the world, I'd like to get the opinion of the those who would know if it's honest or not."

"I can't wait" he replied. Seeing the meeting start to come to order, he jerked his head in the direction of the chairs. "Shall we?"

"Yup" she agreed with a smile.

All the pieces were falling into place and she couldn't have been happier.

Eric looked down at his friend strapped into the cradle of the MRI machine and shook his head. He seemed small and vulnerable - two words he had never used to describe Patrick under any circumstance.

"Tell me again how we aren't breaking any laws?"

"We aren't" Patrick reassured him. "One of my friends in billing is just spelling my name differently and going to send the bill to me."

"Friends?" he asked, quirking his eyebrow up with amusement. "Or is this some girl you wined and dined before falling hard for the charming Dr. Scorpio?"

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Would you just get this thing going? As excited as I am about the prospect of your witty banter, the longer I lie here, the greater the chance that someone is going to discover us."

"And what? I'm some dirty secret you want to hide from the world?" he asked with faux hurt. "You said you loved me Patrick - that I was the one..."

"Smitherman" he snapped warningly.

Eric realized his friend's nervousness and dropped the teasing. "Okay." Reaching for the headphones, he placed them in Patrick's ears. "If you start to get claustrophobic and start to panic, hit the button and I'll pull you out."

"Thanks Doctor" he replied dryly, "not like I'm not already familiar with the workings of these machines."

Lowering his head, he looked at his friend seriously. "I mean Pansty. You may have given a ton of MRIs but to my knowledge you have never had one. It's dark, noisy and very small in there. If you start to freak, hit the button. If you think a seizure is starting, hit the button. Got it?"

He nodded mutely and closed his eyes.

Lying in the cradle as it moved backwards into the machine, he felt exposed. By telling Eric about it, it was real. For as long as he had kept it to himself, he could deny that anything was happening, that the seizures were anomalies. But he had said it out loud and there was no where left to hide. Eric had pushed him hard to book the MRI so they could get going on a diagnosis. The clinical side of Patrick was in complete agreement. The sooner he knew what he was dealing with, the sooner he could put an action plan together. But his emotional side was another matter. He was in love - for the first time ever. His mind had filled with ideas of building of a life with someone, establishing a future with someone - with Robin - all the while aware of how precious a commodity life was. It had never occurred to him, that it would be his time that could be in peril.

The machine started its staccato noises and Patrick took several deep breaths to relax. MRIs were always a diagnositic tool to him but looking around at the walls that were so precariously close to his head and realizing just how scary an experience it could be, he made am mental note to be kinder to his patients who needed one.

Eric's voice broke in over the headphones. "Everything okay Patrick?"

"Yeah."

"So...Robin...she seems pretty great."

"She is."

"And you're in love with her?"

"Yup" he said easily. The thought of being in love used to send him into a full scale panic attack but with Robin - admitting he was in love with Robin - was easy.

"And she with you?"

"Yeah." He closed his eyes as the noises from the machine got louder. It would be a miracle if he got through this without a seizure.

"Then why won't you tell her? Patrick - this is what being in love is supposed to be about. Having that soft place to fall and all that. Your girlfriend is going to be pissed that you haven't shared this with her when you finally tell her."

"Who says I'm going to tell her?" He immediately regretted his answer.

"You're going to tell her because there is no way you can go through any treatment without her."

"Eric, you don't get it. She is just finding her feet again - it's been...it's been really hard for her lately. She doesn't need this."

The image of Robin, her bathrobe hanging haphazardly from her shoulders, her hair plastered to her face and her red-rimmed eyes, appeared before him. She had sunk so low following April's death and he could not allow himself to do anything that send her down that path again. He could not let her waste her time on worrying about him.

"Neither do you" he replied quietly. "You can trust her with this Patrick. I was in her presence for an hour and I could already tell..."

"Like you trusted Karen?" he shot back.

The machine stopped its pounding noises and Patrick sighed with relief. The cradle moved from the tunnel and Eric was there ready to release him from the straps.

"Karen was a different matter." Undoing the last piece of velcro, he pulled his friend to a sitting position. "Go get changed back into your clothes and I'll get a rush on these. I'll meet you in your office in about half an hour."

Swinging his feet to the floor, Patrick nodded as he slid from the table. He walked to the door and curled his hand around the handle. Pulling open the door, he looked back over his shoulder.

"Eric?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Eric smiled at him, giving him a quick nod of the head as he moved back into the control booth. He didn't know if he should pray to find something or nothing.

Sitting in the thick leather chair, Patrick tipped it back and stared up at the ceiling. He was trying not to panic, to push back the rising bile in his throat but it was proving to be a losing battle. On one level he knew Eric was right - that Robin would be furious with him if she discovered something was wrong with him and he never shared it with her. But at the same time, how could he undo the progress she had made. He would need to tell her, he knew that, but he just wanted some more time before he did.

Time.

There was never enough. Not enough with his mother. Not enough for his father to make up for the time he had walked out of Patrick's life. And there would never be enough time for Robin. There were simply no circumstances under which losing Robin would not leave him feeling like he was cheated.

Tipping the chair forward, he leaned his elbows on his desk and stared at his phone. Picking up the receiver he turned it over in his hands, contemplating calling his father. He smirked mirthlessly as he replaced the receiver in its holder. It just didn't matter how old you were, the minute shit was ready to hit the fan all you wanted was a parent to run to. Exhaling slowly, he shook his head.

"Come on Drake - get a fucking grip, would you?" he chided himself.

He was startled by a knock at the door.

Slowly raising his eyes, he swallowed thickly as he saw Eric filling his door frame.

"Patrick, I have your results."