Chapter 62

You're hiding from me now

"You don't have to walk me through the door" Robin stated as she dropped her keys in the small cermaic bowl and shrugged off her coat.

Closing the door behind them, Mac simply shook his head. Walking to the kitchen, he filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove. He watched as his niece shuffled to the couch before flopping against the soft cushions. At the hospital on a police matter, he stopped by her lab in hopes he could entice her to join him for lunch but one look at her had stopped him cold. She was pale and a slight sheen of perspiration covered her forehead. Any illusion he had that she wasn't sick evaporated when she put up no argument to his suggestion that she go home.

It didn't matter how old she was or how independant she was, he would always worry about her. As the kettle whistled, he reached for two mugs, plopped in tea bags and filled them with boiling water. Carrying them to the living room, he set them down on the table and reaching for the navy blue afghan, tucked it around her before settling down beside her.

Reaching for the steaming mug, she wrapped her hands around it and simply held it. "I'm okay" she told him.

"No you aren't."

"Uncle Mac, it's just the flu-"

"Robin" he interjected. "You and I both know that it is never 'just the flu' when it comes to you and I don't understand why you wouldn't go see Alan before coming home."

Exhaling slowly, she held his gaze for several beats. "Because I'm a doctor. Because I know there is nothing he would tell me to do that I won't do for myself."

"Why were you even at work today?" His tone was sharper than he had intended it to be.

Cocking an eyebrow, she gave him a small smile. "Am I going to need a lawyer or are you going to read me my rights?"

Mac's face softened immediately. "Sweetheart, I'm not trying to give you a hard time, I'm just worried."

Nodding, she took a long sip of her tea. "I know Uncle Mac. Honestly, I just thought I was hungover this morning and it wasn't until I started to feel worse, not better that I realized it was the flu."

The skeptical look on her uncle's face told her that he didn't quite buy what she was selling but she also knew he would let it drop. Or at least she hoped he would. She had no energy to devote to arguing about her health.

Bringing his mug to his lips, Mac blew on it to cool the rising steam before taking a drink. "How is Patrick?" he asked casually.

"He's good" she told him with a smile.

"I mean his health Robin. Because I think his health is affecting yours."

"Uncle Mac-"

He held up his hand. "Don't even try Robin. Tell me how things are going - honestly."

Nestling further back against the arm of the couch, she folded her knees against her chest and chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip as she contemplated her answer. Telling the truth about the situation was tricky as she was not even sure if she told herself the truth. "He's going to need surgery" she said quietly.

"Why doesn't he have it now?"

"The tumour is still too big and if they were to try and remove it the risk to permanent brain damage or d-death," she tripped over the word as she knew she would. She tripped over it in her mind all the time. "would be too great."

"Ah."

"Is his treatment working?"

"He thinks it is."

"What do you think?"

She shook her head. "Not enough" she told him hoarsely. "It's not enough." Leaning forward, she set the mug down on the table and wound her fingers through the soft material of the blanket. "His hand. He has this tremor. And I hate it, Uncle Mac. I hate his tremor. It used to shake just a little bit every once in a while but now it shakes almost all the time. It'll shake when he holds my hand or when he touches me. It kills me to see his hand - a hand that has healed, literally healed, hundreds of people and now it can barely hold a pen. And it's like it's taunting me, reminding me that I could...I could lose him."

"Oh sweetheart" he sighed as he moved across the couch to wrap her in his arms.

Standing on the other side of the door, with is key in hand, Patrick stood frozen as he heard Robin's words. Looking down at his hand as it trembled, he clenched his eyes shut and swallowed down a groan.

Swiping at her tears, she gave her uncle a watery smile. "I'm blaming the flu" she said, "for my sudden outburst."

At the mention of the flu, Patrick blanched. He had dismissed her lethargy that morning as a hangover and suddenly his father's words about the toll on the caregiver came crashing back.

Mac stroked her cheek lovingly. "Robin, you can't keep this stuff inside of you - that's as hard on your immunity as anything."

A conversation with Darren about the importance of emotional immunity flashed through her mind and she smiled wryly. "I just want his hand to stop shaking because if it stops shaking then I know he's getting better and I can breathe again. "

Pocketing his keys, Patrick turned on his heel and disappeared back down the hallway and out the building.

"I don't mean for it to sound so sad" she said with a smile. "He and I are actually doing really well. Uncle Mac this is the best relationship I've ever been in. He loves me, he respects and even in the middle of all of this we have a lot of fun."

"I am glad for you" he told her. "But Robin I don't want you putting yourself at risk for anyone and if it's getting to be too much then you have to say something because if you don't the cost is too high."

She nodded. "I'm not taking a risk Uncle Mac. I love him and we're going to get through this together."

Feeling the vibration from his bepper, he sighed. "I have to go" he told her. "But I want you to promise to call me if you need me, even if you don't want to."

"I promise" she grinned, thinking of all the times he had stood by her side. Her ability to face the world head on came in large part from the support and love he had provided to her as a teenager. "Thanks for coming home with me."

He kissed her forehead and rose to his feet. "Any time Robin. I love you."

"Love you too."

xxxxxx

"Patrick are you sure?"

He looked up at his colleague and nodded. "Liam, I've done all the research on this and it's not contraindicated. I'm not doing this to get back to surgery or anything but just to steady my hand to help with activities of daily living. I'm hardly the first neuro patient you've done this for."

The plastic surgeon looked at him, studying his face. "No. Botox injections for tremors can be very helpful but there are downsides. It can worsen numbness in the fingers and it doesn't last."

"I don't need it to last for long" he told him, trying to hide his irritation.

There was so much about his condition that he could not control but if reducing the shaking in his hand would give Robin some peace of mind then he would do whatever needed to be done. His walk to the hospital had been filled with recriminations at his inability to pick up on Robin's concerns. He had always been a somewhat selfish person but since his diagnosis he had become much more self centred. That needed to stop. Robin was a once in a lifetime chance at love and he could not let her down.

"Fine" Liam agreed, interrupting his thoughts, "but I'll give you a total of two doses. You come back a third time and the answer is no."

He had been surprised to find his colleague appear, unannounced, in his office not only asking for a Botox injection to help quell his tremors but insisting he needed it right away. His urgency had set off some alarm bells but reassured that he wasn't going to use to it to regain his active medical status, he could think of no reason to deny him. Doctor Drake's condition was well known throughout the hospital and he felt sympathetic to his situation.

"That's fine." Patrick let out a small sigh of relief. "I won't need it a third time, of that I'm sure."

"Okay. Off with the shirt and I'll prep the syringe."

xxxxx

Opening the apartment door quietly, Patrick slipped inside and carefully closed it behind him. Having hung up his coat, he tip toed into the kitchen and deposited the brown take out bag on the counter. Walking back into the living room, he leaned against the entrance, staring at Robin asleep on the couch. Her wan complexion was only highlighted by the dark blanket pulled up around her neck. Flexing his left hand, he hoped the Botox would works its magic sooner rather than later.

"I'm not sleeping" came her raspy voice.

"Hey" Crossing the room he sat down beside her, stealing a quick kiss. "You're home early"

Pulling herself to a sitting position, Robin wiped the sleep from her eyes, smiling weakly. Any hope she had at covering the flu had disappeared as the symptoms had worsened through the day.

"I have the flu"

"I'm sorry" he told her quietly. "How do you feel?"

"Like you parked one of your race cars on me."

His hand swept along her collarbone, gently massaging her skin. "So you're going to be off for a few days, right? And understand here, the only answer I'm accepting is yes."

"Down boy" she teased, "yes I'm off until I'm over it."

"This means I get to take care of you."

She furrowed her brow as she spoke. "I don't know. Your bedside manner really isn't very good"

Pursing his lips together, he nodded his agreement. "True. But my in bed manner is excellent."

Robin laughed lightly. "I'm not sure how much fun I'm going to be but I'm kind of looking forward to hanging out just the two of us."

Bussing her lips, he smiled against her mouth. "Put yourself in my hands Robin. I'll take great care of you."

Curling her hand around his shirt, she tugged him closer to her and snuggled against him as he wrapped his arms around her. "You always do."