Chapter 70

And I know it aches
How your heart breaks
You can only take so much

He placed the note on the nightstand near her watch and leaning over, gently kissed her lips. "I love you Robin" he whispered. Her eyes fluttered but she did not wake.

Stealing silently from the bedroom, he pulled the door closed behind him.
Reaching for his jacket, he tugged it over his shoulders, slipped into his boots and headed outside. As he walked towards the pier, he pulled the collar of his jacket closer to his neck to ward off the chill.

It had been a fitful night for him. He had pretended to be asleep when Robin finally came to bed; he had watched her in the dark as she took off her dress – something he had been hoping to do himself – and laid it over the chair by her vanity. She had taken one of his t-shirts from the drawer and pulled it over her head before crawling into bed with him. She had reached for him, sliding her arms around him and pressing her lips to his chest. Because he had not been asleep, he had felt the first of several hot tears drop on to his shirt and thought his heart would break as a result.

He was alone on the pier; the sun had barely risen from the sky and it was too early for most to be outside. Staring at the water, the wind lashed at his face – it was bitterly cold and reflected his mood.

There was a single loop that had played in his head all night and continued in the early morning light.

I don't know if I can do this

He jammed his hands in his pockets and sank down on to the bench. It was a very different visit to the pier than the one he had taken last summer. Some things were the same – his mind was swirling with grim possibilities and outcomes – but many things were different. Last time it had been Robin who had brought him there to help him find perspective, to just see, if even for a moment, that life goes on and he would as well.

Now he was searching for perspective about Robin.

All his adult life he had been afraid of turning into his father. It never occurred to him that he would be like his mother instead. And if he was his mother then he ran the risk of hurting Robin like his mom had hurt his father. It was an intolerable risk for him to take.

He loved her – freely, beyond reason, unconditionally – and that was why he knew he had to let her go. What was coming for him was ugly and insidious and very likely fatal. He would not let her have a front row seat to it. She was too vibrant, had too much to give to be weighed down by him.

The memory of her breaking down over the anniversary of Stone's death was fresh in his mind. He had been angry with Stone during that time. It made little sensel to be angry with a dead teenager he had never met – he knew that – but he was angry just the same. That someone who had loved her so much had caused her so much pain. He did not want to do that to her, he could not.

Looking down at his watch, he sighed heavily. He had agreed to meet his father for breakfast and then they would tell Robin together about his condition. But first he had to tell his father that he was ending things with her.

His legs were heavy as he rose to his feet and shuffled up the steps. His hardest moments were yet to come.

It truly was the winter of his discontent.

Alexis smiled as she looked down at the arm loosely draped across her waist. The evening had taken an unexpected yet amazing turn. Of all the ways she had imagined the night ending – and there had been a few – she had not imagined ending it in bed with him.

After her ex-husband's infidelity and her bout with cancer, she felt very much unwanted and unwomanly but Eric had changed that. Even if it was only temporary, it felt good to be desired.

The early morning sun peeked through the curtains and as she drank in his lean frame, she felt a shiver go through her. He was a beautiful man. What amazed her most was how much he touched her. Even through the night, as they drifted off to sleep, he always had an arm around her or across her, bringing her to him. Even in the early, heady days of her marriage to Ric it had not been like that.

She slid her hand up his arm, still not quite believing the night before. Seeing his four-leaf clover tattoo on his shoulder she traced its outline with her finger.

"Looking to get lucky?" he mumbled, his eyes still closed.

"I already did – twice" she retorted.

Eric's eyes snapped open and he grinned at her. Closing his hand over her hip, he pulled her closer to him. He kissed her softly, nibbling on her lips.

"Good morning" he greeted her sleepily as he nuzzled her neck. Feeling her stiffen slightly, he lifted his head and raised his eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

"No" she replied quickly, not quite meeting his eyes.

The corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile. "Are you freaking out?"

Raising her eyes to meet his, Alexis smiled in spite of herself. "Eric, I'm pretty neurotic - if I'm not freaking out a little, I'm likely not breathing." She tried to ignore the rising heat in her body as his fingers danced along her ribs.

"Okay" he replied with a grin. "Are you freaking out more than usual?"

"No"

The air of hesitation in her voice made him sit up. "Are you...are you having regrets?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "No - god no."

"Then what is it?"

"It's just..." She blew the air from her cheeks as she pulled at invisible threads on the sheet. "It's been a long time since I've been on a date with someone who wasn't my husband and I guess...I'm not sure what's next."

He smiled broadly as he reached for her hand. "Alexis, do you like me?"

She nodded shyly. "Very much."

"Good - cause I like you." He tugged her to him and wrapped his arms around her. "As for what comes next -I'm thinking breakfast is definitely in order - eggs, bacon, toast maybe even pancakes."

"That's quite an appetite you've worked up" she teased lightly.

He waggled his eyebrows in response. "So where shall we go?"

"Well Kelly's has the best diner breakfast in town but I'm afraid I can't go in my ballgown."

"Hmmm" he mused, nibbling on her ear. "Can you go naked? Cause I'd like that."

She slapped him playfully as she kicked back the covers. "I'm afraid not. My office is actually downstairs and I always keep a change of clothes there. Why don't I meet you in the lobby in say, half an hour?"

Eric pushed back his side of the covers and rolled out of bed. Seeing a flash of white out of the corner of her eye, Alexis turned her head and reaching out, gently touched the small patch on the back of his hip. "Is that a nicotine patch?"

With his back to her, he closed his eyes and inhaled quietly. He looked over his shoulder and smiled uneasily. "Something like that. So, half an hour?"

"Yup," she said as she slipped into her dress.

Having pulled on his shorts, he walked her to the door and kissed her gently. "See you downstairs."

Patrick stared into his coffee cup as he waited for his father. Time seemed to move only one of two ways these days - too quickly or too slowly. And it never moved the way he wanted it to when he wanted it. On the back of his napkin he had started to write out his plan - what he needed to pack, what day he could start chemo - and then turned it over.

The jangle of the bells as the door opened caused his head to snap up. He swallowed a nervous breath as his father walked through. He gave him a small wave and weak smile. Noah took of his jacket and hung it on the back of his chair.

"It's cold out there" he said easily as he sat down. Ever the clinician, he did a quick visual evaluation of his son and was not remotely comforted by what he saw.

"Yeah" he answered flatly.

"Is Robin joining us?" he asked carefully.
Patrick nodded. "I left her a note - she didn't sleep that much last night so I didn't want to wake her too early."

"And how are you doing?"

He scoffed. "Peachy. I have a large tumour in my head that's getting larger, I am having seizures that are more violent everyday, I can't feel the tips of fingers on my left hand and in the rare moments where my head isn't pounding all I want to do is sleep."

"So we'll tell Robin about the chemo today and we'll get Eric to start you on it tomorrow" he offered hopefully.

"I'm not telling Robin."

Noah's brow knit together in confusion. "Pardon?"

He shook his head. "I've done a lot of thinking about this and I think it's best if I leave - I'm going to go back to New York with Eric and have my treatment there."

"What?" Noah exclaimed loudly, drawing the attention of several diners. Leaning forward he stared at his son in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

Closing his eyes, he inhaled sharply. He wished people wouldn't ask for an explanation. He wished they would just listen to what he said and accept it. The explaining and justifying of his decisions was more exhausting than anything else. It wasn't as if he arrived at his decisions quickly or thoughtlessly. He had weighed the options and then picked what was, in his judgement, the best one.

"I mean that I'm going where I can get the best care - and that's in the City. And I'm ending things with Robin - before..." his lip quivered, "before I hurt her worse than I already have."

"Patrick you're being ridiculous" he rebuked him gently. "Robin is in love with you - as you are with her. This is a moment where you have to stand together - just as you stood together when she was struggling in the fall."

He shook his head. "Not at the cost of her health - mental or physical. I would never be able to live with myself if I made her sick." His voice was hoarse and tired, belying the toll his illness was taking on him. "I cannot...I cannot let her do this. I love her too much" he whispered.

"This is madness, son" Noah tried to reason. "You don't walk away from a love...from a love like this" His voice faltered as he realized the depth of his son's despair.

"I'm not Mom" he protested. "I don't have her dignity or strength and I can't keep putting someone that I love as much as Robin through this. To have her watch me on chemo?" He shook his head. "There is no way."

Noah gripped his coffee cup and hoped that he would be forgiven for what he was about to do. "Patrick," he began nervously, "do you honestly believe that your mother didn't go through exactly what you are going through?"

He narrowed his eyes and looked carefully at his father. "I know she went through this," his tone dripped of sarcasm, "but she handled it better than I am."

"No she didn't"

"Pardon me?" The challenge in Patrick's voice rang through loud and clear.

"Patrick, your mother struggled – right until the very end. As the tumour progressed, her ability to stay in control shrank away. She had moments of delusion, venomous anger and depression. There was not a lot of elegance about her….not at the end."

"Take that back" he hissed. "MY mother was graceful and dignified right up to and including the moment they wheeled her into the OR. The only undignified moment of her entire existence was dying on the table."
His brown eyes blazed furiously as he glared at his father, daring him to go on.

Noah saw the challenge but refused to back down. If his son was about to throw it all away because of some misguided notion then the best thing he could do for him, the thing he absolutely had to do for him, was tell him the truth.

"Your mother was a beautiful and loving woman. I know that because I was loved by her for almost 25 years. But I was with her Patrick, I was with her in our room when she would scream at me. When she would hurl anything she could get her hands on across the room. Her seizures were awful and after one should would lie listlessly in bed telling me she would rather die than live like that."

Patrick's knuckles turned white as he gripped the table. The muscle in his cheek twitched as he listened to his father knock dents in his mother's character. Rage churned inside him.

"You're a liar" he spat. "I don't know why you are lying but I know that you are. My mother wanted to live – she wanted to fight – she looked to you to save her. YOU failed her – YOU did that-"

"Patrick-" Noah reached across the table to calm him and winced as his son snatched his hand away in anger.

"Don't you fucking touch me. I cannot believe you are doing this to Mom. She would be ASHAMED of you – if she wasn't already."

Words as weapons were often sharper than knives and Patrick's hit their target. Noah grimaced and absorbed the blow but would not be deterred.

"Your mother was sick Patrick – just as you are. She suffered everything you are suffering and worse. She didn't want you to see that so we did our best to protect you from it. But the truth is, in the grips of all of it, your mother could be hateful, harmful and heartbreaking. You are no different."

For someone as sick as he was, he moved with lightning speed. He overturned the table and grabbed his father by his shirt, slamming him against the wall. He may not have had much sensation in his hand but it did little to impede his fist smashing into Noah's face.

"YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT MY MOTHER" he screamed. He rained blow and after blow on his father, pummelling him.

Noah could do little but put his hands up in a vain attempt to protect himself. His knees buckled as Patrick's fist made contact with his ribs.

As Patrick raised his fist, he was shocked to find himself impeded by a set of strong arms wrapping around him. He strained against the arms, trying to get to his father but could make little progress.

"ENOUGH!" Eric said loudly as he pulled him away from his father and to the other side of the diner, "Patrick, that is enough"

His knuckles were bleeding and his breathing ragged as he collapsed into the chair. He looked over to his father, slumped on the floor, his face a
bloody mess and he looked back to his friend in bewilderment.

"Wh-what have I done?" His breath came in shuddering spurts. "Smitty you have to get me out of here. Please – get me out of here."

"Oh my god" Robin's voice rang clearly through the diner and Patrick dropped his head in shame. "What have you done?"

She moved towards him but Patrick shook his head violently. "Don't touch me – just…just leave me alone." His humiliation was all encompassing.

She took another step towards him but Eric turned around and blocked her path. He gave a small shake of his head. "Could you see to Noah?" He looked over to where Noah, with Alexis' help, was shakily getting to his feet.

"Eric" she pleaded.

"Robin," he began evenly, "I think Noah might have a concussion and I need you to take him to be checked out. I'm going to check out Patrick and we'll meet you back at your apartment, okay?"

He knew that every fibre of her being was screaming to get to Patrick – to care for him, to comfort and console him; but he knew his friend was feeling ignoble and more than anything at the moment needed some space to collect himself.

Robin stared at her boyfriend, trying to get him to look at her, to see her but he would not raise his eyes. Defeated, she crossed the room.

She pulled a pair of latex gloves from her purse as she set it down on the table. She looked sadly at Noah's battered face, who tried not to wince as Robin palpated his cheek.

"I don't think anything is broken" she told him softly.

"Nice to know I can still take a punch" he joked weakly, grabbing at his ribs as he did so.

"What happened?"

Noah met her gaze and smiled sadly. "I thought it was time to tell him the truth about Mattie. It didn't go very well."

"This is my fault" she said plaintively.

"No" he told her firmly, his speech impeded by the swelling on his face. "You were right – he needed to – he needs to know the truth."

All three of them looked towards the door as Eric ushered Patrick outside. Noah and Robin shared a sad, crushing look.

"I have my car" Alexis said, speaking up. "Why don't I take us to the hospital?"

Rising unsteadily to his feet, Noah nodded. "Robin – go to Patrick. He needs you right now, more than he knows."

Leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, his arms folded across his chest, Eric watched as Patrick tossed his clothes haphazardly into his suitcases.

"Pantsy, I wish you would stop for a minute and think – because you are making quite possibly the dumbest decision in your life."

He shook his head and continued to pull his clothes from their hangers.
It had been a wordless ride back to the apartment. Reeling from what he had done, from his complete loss of control, he had sunk to the couch and let his friend clean the scrapes on his hand. As Eric had applied the last band aid, Patrick looked at his friend and told him in an exhausted, beaten voice that he was moving back to New York City. Having gathered his strength, he headed to the bedroom to pack the few belongings he had.

"I can't do this" he said, finally speaking as he closed his first suitcase. "I can't be here and have them watch me….die."

"You are NOT dying" Eric snapped, "so stop fucking talking like that."
Patrick looked at him with resignation. "You can't make that guarantee, no one can. And so it is better for everyone if I leave."

He shook his head. "You are the only person who thinks it's better if you leave. Patrick, your father and your girlfriend love you – LOVE you. You can't just walk away from that."

"I have to. Can't you see that? Look – just look at what I did to my father." His eyes welled with tears, horrified at his own actions. "What if….what if it had been Robin?"

"You would never hurt Robin. I know that as sure as I know anything."

"You can't know that. I don't even know that."

"If you ask me-"

"Which I didn't" he pointed out.

"If you ask me" he continued, undeterred, "that fight with your dad was years in coming. That had less to with whatever it was he told you and everything to do with all that anger and pain you've been keeping locked up inside you."

"Thanks so much Oprah," he sniffed, returning to his packing.

"You need to stay"

"No" he whispered. "What I need….what I need is for my best friend to be my best friend" he told him tearfully. "What I need is for you to let me move back into our old apartment so I can start the chemo."

"Running away doesn't solve anything"

"Please" he pleaded, "I've never asked you for anything but I am…I am begging you Eric – please let me come back with you. If I have to do this on my own I will but I could really use a friend."

Eric rubbed his hand over his face and blew out his cheeks. His friend refused to see reason, was unable to understand the devastation his choice would cause. But he could not deny him. Patrick had been by his side, unfailingly so, as he walked through the hellfire, and now it was his turn.

"Of course you can stay with me"

"Are you going somewhere?" Robin asked in a strangled voice.