Chapter 35

I pray that the morning comes and with me you'll stay
Hide me inside your heart and let me wash away

Resigned, Patrick closed the door and crossing the room, sat on the edge of his bed. "What are you doing here Robin?"

She blinked in surprise. "What am I doing here? You have a brain tumour."

"So Eric just couldn't wait to tell you."

With a deep understanding of how fragile he must be feeling, she wanted to protect as much of his foundation as she could, for a while at least. "Who needs Eric? I broke into your medical records" she stated breezily.

He looked at her wide-eye with shock. He had always teased her about being a bad girl in disguise but had never anticipated that she would go that far. "Wh-what?"

Slowly walking towards him, her face softened as she studied his; he was pale and his burnt umber-coloured eyes betrayed his internal struggle against fear. "Do you really think that even with all that was going on in the last few weeks that I didn't notice that something was off?" she asked him quietly.

Edging off the bed he shuffled towards the window. "Go ahead, take your pound of flesh," he suggested flatly.

Scrunching up her face, she stared at him. "Are you under the impression that I'm angry with you? 'Cause I'm not."

His quirked up eyebrow and the small scowl on his face were strangely soothing to her. They were the first glimpses of the real Patrick she had seen since her arrival. "Okay, so I'm a little pissed," she amended, "but mostly Patrick I'm just sad - sad for you that you've been going through this by yourself."

"I'm fine."

Shaking her head, she took another step towards his and watched curiously as he took a further step backwards. "Okay look, I think we can both agree that 'fine' is not an adjective that comes anywhere close to describing you." She sat down on the edge of the bed.

Turning to the window, Patrick jammed his hands in his pocket. The sun was setting casting an orange glow over the city. He thought of the plans he had been foolishly making for weeks - to look at houses, to take a holiday with Robin, to take her to a Rangers game - none of those were options now, not with what was waiting for him. He stared out at the city and sighed heavily. He had long believed that there wasn't anything he could not cope with; he knew now that was arrogance of the first order. He had not the first clue on how to deal with what the universe was throwing at him.

"How long has this been going on?" Her quiet question broke the heavy silence.

Patrick met her gaze in the reflection of the window. "A few months," he replied softly.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from gasping out loud. There were a myriad of emotions rolling through her all at once but she pushed them to the side. This wasn't the time for her feelings, it was about him. Memories of friends enveloping her in love after her HIV diagnosis came back in a flood and she wanted, more than anything, to give that to him.

"So Eric..."

"I called him because I knew I was in trouble."

She nodded silently. "Did you tell Noah?"

"No" he shook his head, "but he knows"

"How?"

He turned his head to the side and cast his eyes backwards. "I had a seizure and he found me."

The room fell silent again with each lost in their own thoughts. For Robin, there was no lonelier image than Patrick writhing on the floor in the grips of a spasm.

Inhaling sharply, Patrick opened his mouth to speak but closed it quickly. His tongue slipped from his mouth and swiped at his dry lips. Closing his eyes, he tried again to speak.

"I think you should go."

"No," she told him steadfastly.

"I mean it Robin - just go - get away from me. You don't need this in your life - not again."

Her mouth dropped open slightly as realization dawned. Patrick was dealing with two fears - fear of his disease and what it meant for his life and fear for her, and what his disease meant for her life.

Getting to her feet, she walked tentatively towards him. "I love you" she stated in a clear voice, "and you don't get to push me away. I love you and we are in this together, for better or for worse. I love you-" She paused where she stood. "Please look at me,"

Taking several uneven breaths, he turned slowly to face her; it took all of his strength to look her in the eyes.

"I love you and you are not alone."

His eyes misted over and he shook his head. "I am alone," he whispered.

She took a step towards him. "No you aren't," she repeated.

As Patrick took another step back, he came up against the wall. With no possible escape, he sank to the floor and brought his knees to his chest. He curled his finger through the lace of his sneaker.

Robin dropped to her knees in front of him. "You are not alone," she repeated.

He shook his head as he continued to play with his lace. It felt as though it was 1997 again and everything that mattered to him - the only thing that mattered to him, his family - had deserted him and he was all on his own.

"I'm going to die," he whispered, giving voice to the dread that had lived inside him from the moment he realized what was wrong with him.

She crawled towards him as she swallowed down her own sadness and worry. "No you are not" she told him confidently.

Patrick could feel the heat from her body as she sat on her heels, inches away from him. His lower lip trembled and sucking in a breath, he looked at her. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely.

Closing the distance between them, she threw her arms around him and hugged
him tightly. He had told her once that he wouldn't let her go and in her darkest moment, she had held to that like a life raft. It was her turn to keep him afloat.

She buried her face in his shoulder. "I know, baby" she soothed as she pressed her lips to his neck, "I know."

As the sun set completely, the room was in darkness save for the small desk lamp on the other side providing meagre light. Patrick slowly extricated himself from her arms, offering a weak smile.

Seated across his lap, Robin watched curiously as he clenched and flexed his hand several times.

Feeling her eyes on him, he held up his hand. "I…I get tremors in my hand. That's how it started. Sometimes it shakes so badly, I can't hold the scalpel steady."

"Yesterday?"

He nodded.

Robin slid her hand behind his and pressed her lips to the inside; she could feel him shiver underneath her. She softly kissed the inside of his wrist, over the pulse point. Looking from underneath her eyelashes, she watched him struggle for control.

He slipped his hand around to cup the back of her head. She could feel his breath on her skin as his mouth, opened, hovered above hers in suspended anticipation. And as he finally let go, he crashed his mouth over hers. The kiss was needful and sorrowful and loving and she could not keep from moaning as his tongue slid between her lips and explored the velvety confines of her mouth.

His other hand trailed down her side, wondrously caressing her. She shifted in his lap, pushing forward against him as her hands burrowed under his shirt and swept across his chest. She could feel his skin warm under her touch and she, more than most, understood the healing power of touch.

He moved his lips from her mouth and suckled on the soft hollow of her neck as his fingers curled possessively through her hair. Taking hold of the hem of his t-shirt, she tugged it upwards, breaking their kiss only long enough to take the shirt off. Patrick's hands fumbled with the buttons on her blouse before finally succeeding in opening it. He pushed it from her shoulders and stared, breathless, at the sight before him.

He was normally a confident lover but Robin knew instinctively that with his foundation so rocked, she needed to take the lead. Reaching behind her, she unclasped her white lace bra and let it tumble to the ground. Unconsciously, he licked his lips and tentatively raised his hands to her breasts, palming them. She pushed into his hands and smiled seductively. Dipping his head, he buried his face against her skin, breathing in her heady scent as though that alone could make him better.

He laid her against the rug and pulled her jeans from her body before kissing his way up the length of her legs, coming to rest at her apex. He curled a finger inside of her as he kissed her sex; Robin's hips came off the ground in a silent request for more.

She shuddered, clenching her eyes shut as he pressed his lips against her belly as he continued to cover her in kisses. Threading her fingers through his hair, she held him close to her, losing herself in his touch. Groaning at the sudden loss of contact, she opened her eyes and watched as he toed off his shoes and dropped his pants to the floor. Reaching to the nightstand, he retrieved the condom before looking back at her, almost unsure of the next move.

Pulling herself to a sitting position, she held her hand out and he placed the condom in it. She crawled up to her knees as she opened the foil packet and smiled as she heard the breath rush from his lungs at her first touch.

Taking her by the hand, he led her to the bed and crawled to her. He held on to her hips as he entered her and their bodies undulated in time with one another. She locked eyes with him, hoping he could see how much she loved him, how it would always be them together. His hands traced patterns over her skin as he built to his climax, Robin silently encouraging him to finally let go; once he did, she followed him over the edge.

They lay side by side on the bed, panting breathlessly. Robin picked up his hand again and kissed it.

So comforted by her touch, so strengthened by her love, he pulled her flush against him and wrapped his arms around her.

"The steroids aren't working" he said quietly, more courageous in the dark than in the light.

She nodded knowingly. "Is radiation next?"

"Yeah," he replied softly, his eyes growing heavy with sleep.

She lovingly brushed the hair from his face and nipped at his lips; her fingertips danced lightly across his forehead. "Sleep, baby" she encouraged. "I'll be here when you wake up.

Propped up on one elbow, she watched him as he slept, noticing for the first time that he looked very much like a little boy as he did. His face seemed almost free of worry and his long, dark lashes, swept against his cheek. His lips were parted slightly and she listened to the comforting sound of his breathing.

For the first time in a long time, maybe even for the first time ever, she saw a future – a real future – with another person. She saw a future with him. Having just found it, she was not ready to let it go without a battle and she would help him fight for himself….and for them.

He stirred as her hand gently rubbed his shoulder and his neck. He was warm in her love and as he started to wake, struggled to remember why he had been so afraid to tell her. She had not left, she had not run, she had not tried to seek solace from someone or something else. It had been different when he had been exposed to HIV, he assumed on some level that she felt obligated to care for him and even as his feelings for her grew, he remained unsure of hers. As he opened his eyes, he finally realized that he could trust in her; for the first time in a long time he was ready to let himself believe in another person.

"Hi" he greeted her sleepily.

"Hi." She smiled back at him. "I had an idea while you were sleeping."

"Oh?" he asked, brushing his lips against hers.

"Move in with me."