Chapter 33

I'm trying to keep it together
But I'm falling apart

Peeling back the wrapper of the ice cream bar, Robin lowered herself onto the bench in the observation gallery. She closed her eyes and moaned appreciatively as the first bite of fudge mocha melted against her tongue. Opening her eyes, she smiled as she saw Patrick stride into the operating room below. Their schedules had both been busy to the point of overload in the last few days and though they hadn't managed to steal much time together at the hospital, she was taking advantage of a small break to watch him work.

Fear of an ever ballooning ego kept her from telling him but she loved to watch him work. He was cocky and arrogant but not without reason. He was precise and creative when he needed to be and every patient mattered to him; he was loathe to cross anyone off as a lost cause. The small glimpses of his dedication was one of the first things that attracted her to him. Even when she found him insufferable in his relentless pursuit of her and almost every other female on staff, she was still able to appreciate his extraordinary skill.

Leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, she was surprised to see Noah enter the theatre and stand next to Patrick. Though father and son did assist each other from time to time, this particular procedure was not a complicated one and hardly required the attention of two senior surgeons. She could tell by the hunch of his shoulders that he was agitated by Noah's presence and his eyes narrowed as his father spoke to him.

The procedure was not more than 30 minutes old when Patrick, frustrated, stepped back from the table and angrily peeled off his gloves. Noah took his place at the head of the table while Patrick spoke furiously at him before storming from the room. She was shocked and dumbfounded. In all the time she had known him, she had never known him to step away from a procedure, nor had she known Noah to throw his weight around unnecessarily. Something was clearly wrong but she had no idea what.

Dumping the rest of her uneaten ice cream bar in the garbage, she scampered from the room and headed down the stairs to the locker rooms.

Patrick kicked open the door to the roof and stormed to the far end before letting out a cry of frustation the emanated deep from within. His blood was boiling with fury and he was oblivious to winter's chill.

Looking down at his left hand, still trembling, he could not believe how his body was betraying him. His hands were his gift - they were able to physically do what his mind knew should be done and now they had cruelly, without a second thought, begun to abandon him. Noah had noticed the tremor and asked Patrick to step away from the table. When Patrick ignored him, Noah ordered him to step back and Patrick was not in a position to refuse him. He was embarassed and humiliated and though he wanted to blame his father he knew he could not.

His conversation with Eric from the day before after his second MRI replayed in a constant loop in his head.

"It's grower faster than I'm comfortable with Pat."

"So what do you want to do?"

"I want to up your steroids for two more weeks and then we're going to move to radiation. I won't do surgery until I can shrink it some." Eric's voice was calm and doctor like but Patrick had read his eyes and knew that his friend was worried - truly worried.

"Okay" he had agreed listlessly.

"We need to talk about work-"

"What about it?"

"I think you need to ask for a leave of absence-"

"Absolutely not! Out of the question," he had interrupted tightly.

"You need to deal with your disease and you can't do that and work."

"Everyone will know"

"Don't you mean Robin will know?"

"Eric - just..."

"Patrick, you are still suffering tremors and you had a seizure last night. You have one more seizure and I will have no choice but to report you to your chief of staff and have you removed from cases. Ethically and legally I cannot allow you to continue to work."

"You can't do this to me"

"I'm not doing anything to do, I'm trying to help you."

It didn't feel like help. It felt like he was trying to take away what mattered to him - what had always got him through. Or maybe it was it. It, this thing in his head, was trying to take away what mattered to him. How would he tell Alan? Or Robin? If he had to stop working there would be no way to protect Robin from the truth.

And if he told Robin then it would be real.

Clinically he understood what was happening to him but emotionally he could not. He had inherited his mother's sense of humour, her nose and the same long, slender fingers that she did. How was it possible that he also inherited the very thing that had killed her? That wasn't supposed to be the legacy that she passed to him.

He was terrified.

Potentially testing positive for HIV wasn't nearly as scary as this was and he knew the reasons why. When it came to HIV, Robin had shown him in numerous ways, both big and small, how to live and cope and even thrive. But when it came to meningioma, despite all the success stories he could read in medical journals, there was only one example that stuck with him.

"FUUUUUUUCK!!" he yelled again.

"Patrick?"

He spun round on his heel and came face to face with a worried Robin. "Hey" he greeted weakly, wondering how long she had been standing there.

Tentatively, Robin crossed the roof and stood in front of him. "What...what's going on?"

Giving her a half smile, he shrugged. "I'm having a bad day."

"What happened in the OR?" she asked quietly.

"Who told you?" he snapped. "Is my father shooting his mouth off again?" The tell tale tremble in his hand began again and panic started to grip his chest.

Robin took a step back and looked at him in surprise. "No. I was - I was in the gallery and I saw you leave and Noah take over. I've been looking for you. Baby, you seem all out of sorts. Please tell me what's going on."

"I'm not feeling well" he told her, not quite meeting her gaze. "I...I think I might have a sinusitis or something. I, uh, I'm just going to go home and rest."

"Why don't you go to my place, crawl into bed and as soon as I'm done here I'll head home and I can pamper you?" she offered with an inviting smile.

He shook his head. He needed to get away from her but without raising her suspicions. "I...I think I just want to be in my own bed." Cupping the back of her head, he pressed his lips to her forehead. "I love you" he whispered. "So very much."

Before Robin could get another word in, he quickly headed for the door and disappeared down the stairs.

She stared after him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. There was clearly something more going on than a simple sinus infection. She had suspected for a while now that he was keeping something from her. At first she thought it was his feelings about her speech or residual concern over his own HIV exposure but any time she had pressed him on either of those issues he had reassured her and she believed him. One thing about Patrick was his unflinching honesty. That's how she knew he was lying to her now. Whatever it was that was bothering him was big and he was scared. After all he had done for her, staying by her when she gave him reason not to, she was not about to let him down.

And if he wouldn't give her the answers then she would go looking for them.