Chapter 81

Hold on
Hold on to yourself
For this is going to hurt like hell

Robin pressed her fingers to his neck and gulped as there was no pulse to be found. Taking several deep breaths to steady herself she folded one hand over the over, interlaced her fingers together and placing them over his heart began to press on his chest. Instinct took over and guided her as she counted out the compressions, stopping to give him two slow breaths. She resumed compressions, ignoring the ache building in her shoulders as she did so.

"Don't you even think of quitting on me Drake" she panted, pushing on his chest. "I found your list you know and we are going to do everything on it - everything - so you better start breathing, okay?"

Hearing a small gurgle emanating from the back of his throat, Robin let out a ragged breath. Pressing her fingers against his neck, she was relieved to feel a faint, thready beat underneath. With a shaky hand she gently brushed his bangs from his face.

"Come on Patrick," she pleaded quietly. "Open your eyes. Let me see your beautiful brown eyes."

Keeping her hand on his leg, she crawled towards the couch, straining to reach her purse. Finally getting hold of the strap, she pulled it towards her and retreived her cell phone from the bottom of it. Flipping it open with one hand she punched the keys, dialing 9-1-1. Very calmly, she provided the operator with the address and an assessment of Patrick's situation before hanging up. Moving up beside him, she cradled his head in her lap and moved her hand over his heart trying to rouse him.

"Patrick, baby - wake up. Wake up and open your eyes," she encouraged him. Placing her fingers against his neck, she was reassured that the thready pulse seemed to be gaining in strength. She kept waiting for some kind of panic to wash over her but nothing came. She was calm and measured as she continued to rub her hand over him.

This was the nightmare. This was the nightmare they had both been trying to avoid and outrun. And now they were out of options. For better or for worse, nothing would be the same from here on out.

"I love you" she told him softly. "No matter what."

The door to the apartment burst open as the paramedics came bustling through pulling a stretcher behind them. Robin kissed Patrick's forehead. "The paramedics are here Patrick - they're going to take good care of you and I promise I'll be here right by your side." Gently laying his head back down on the floor, she carefully stepped out of the way of the paramedics while answering their questions. Folding her arms across her chest, she let out a long breath never taking her eyes from Patrick.

The paramedics carefully but efficiently lifted Patrick on to the stretcher before opening his shirt to attach the leads for the heart monitor. She did a double take as a flash of red and gold caught her eye. Leaning forward she spied the claddagh tattoo above his heart and a small gasp escaped from the back of her throat. Her hand instinctively flew to her neck as her fingers curled around the matching necklace that she had not taken off since he had left. She was more confident than ever that he felt their connection as deeply as she did and she planned on using that to get him - them - through the coming days.

"I'm riding with you" she told the paramedics.

The one at the foot of the stretcher nodded. "Of course. You said he's to go to Columbian?"

"Yes" she confirmed. "His surgeon, Doctor Smitherman is there"

"Alright," he said as his partner fastened the oxygen mask over Patrick's face. "Let's go."

Inside the ambulance as it sped through the streets of New York, Robin squeezed herself onto the bench beside the stretcher. Reaching for his hand she brought it to her lips and placed a soft kiss against it. Despite him being unconcious, his hand still trembled and shook. The tremors that he had gone to such lengths to hide were practically permanent. There was a small voice in the back of her head reminding her that history was not repeating itself. She wasn't losing another love, she wasn't going to have her heart broken - she would accept no other option. She swept her other hand across his bare chest, stopping at his tattoo. Her fingers shook slightly as she traced the outline and for the first time she noticed the letter R in the middle of the heart.

"You are just full of surprises Patrick Drake," she whispered. "And I want to see what else you have in store so you need to make sure you wake up, okay?"

She glanced over at the heart monitor and though uneasy with how low the numbers were was at least comforted by them being steady. These were not the ideal conditions for him to head into surgery but they were all he had and she hoped that Eric was as talented as Patrick had claimed and then some. As the ambulance pulled into the bay at the hospital, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

"I love you," she repeated, "and don't you forget it."

The ambulance doors flew open and the ER staff stood ready to receive him. She saw Eric standing by the doors, his eyes fixed on Patrick. He listened intently as the paramedics gave him a status update and then barked at his team to move him into the trauma room. Finding her feet, she scrambled from the ambulance and broke into a sprint, following them.

Slipping inside the door, she pressed her back to the wall and watched as Eric worked. He took his vitals, checked his pupils and his reflexes.

"Okay, I have OR 4 reserved" he snapped at his team, "I want an MRI and then I want him prepped for surgery - stat!"

Not seeing Robin, he blew through the doors and out into the hallway stopping only when she called to him. Spinning around he looked at her in surprise. "You were with him?" he asked, closing the gap between them.

She nodded. "I was"

Eric gave her a small, grateful smile. "I'm glad."

"What do you think?" she asked.

"It's time" he replied simply. "I'm heading to the OR to prep right now."

"I'm going to observe in the gallery," she stated.

He shook his head. "No you aren't"

"Eric" she challenged. "You can't keep me from him. I told him I wouldn't leave him and I mean it"

His face softened and he exhaled quietly. "Robin, I'm glad you want to be by his side but this...this is going to be tough-"

"I can handle it," she interjected.

"For me" he corrected gently. "It's going to be hard for me and I promise I am going to do everything I can but I can't do it with someone looking over my shoulder. I can't do it with an audience."

She chewed on her bottom lip, not quite willing to concede so easily. "Eric-"

"Robin. Please." Taking a deep breath, he put his hand on her shoulder. "I need you to do this for me. And I need you to call Noah - he needs to be here." The implications of his words hung heavily over both of them. "Call Noah and then get comfortable because it's going to be a very long night."

Knowing he was right, she nodded. Eric turned on his heel and started to head back down the hall when she called to him again. He turned back around and walked to her. Seeing his hand outstretched, Robin placed hers in his. Looking her in the eye, he gave her hand a squeeze and smiled. "I know" he told her. "He's important to me too and I'm going to take really, really good care of him. I promise. I'll see you on the other side."

"Thanks" she smiled back. "Be brilliant."

He winked at her and then disappeared down the hallway.

xxxxxx

Having called Noah, she then wandered the hospital halls in search of the chapel. A volunteer pointed her in the right direction and as she pushed open the doors she was surprised to find it empty. Surely she couldn't be the only person in the hospital in need of strength. Walking down the centre aisle she slid into the front pew. She folded her hands on her lap and took several deep breaths.

She had surprised herself at how calm she was when she spoke to Noah. There had been no quaver in her voice, no trembling in her hands, she had simply relayed the information as she knew it and answered the few questions he had. He had expressed his gratitude that Robin had been with him when he collapsed and told her he would be on the very next flight to New York. There were no rumblings in her stomach, no butterflies madly flapping their wings and she couldn't decide if it meant she wasn't afraid of what was happening or that she was so terrified she had yet to begin to process any of it.

Her mind filled with a multitude of thoughts. Not surprsingly, they included Stone as there were elements of all of this that were achingly familiar. While Stone never faced a surgery where his life hung in the balance he did, like Patrick, start to slip away. She was helpless to stop it in either case and much like with Stone all she could offer him was her love.

She had always had a romantic side, losing herself in books of grand love affairs against the odds; stories which always showed that even when it seemed all was lost so long as there was love, there was hope. She believed in the power of love and didn't care if made her cheesy or sappy or unrealistic. There was too much evidence in her life that demonstrated that love was as important as medicine, money or power - that without it, very little else mattered. It had taken a long time for her to convince Patrick of that but he had come to believe as well. He had, in moments of doubt, clung to it until he could find his feet again and the tattoo on his chest told her that he still believed.

Reaching into her purse, she pulled out the list that she had carried with her from the moment she found it. Carefully unfolding it, she re-read each item and reasserted to herself that they were going to do this. That once Patrick was healed they would finish the list, make their memories and then make a new list.

It was not in her nature to make demands or keep score in her life. She knew that she had been dealt plenty of challenges and fair or unfair they still needed to be met and dealt with. It had been a rare time that she had railed against the injustice of it all - the losses and heartbreak - because she knew it wasn't productive. Screaming at the wind that she didn't want to be HIV+ wouldn't actually change it and so she had always felt it was better to figure out how to get on with it rather than dwell on it. But Patrick had reopened her heart when she was sure it would never happen again and she was not willing to be practical about that. On this point she was going to be selfish - she wanted him healthy and whole and back with her. She wanted a future with him - a long future with him and she was certain she had earned that.

Folding the list, she placed it back inside her purse and looked up at the crucifix hanging on the wall.

"You owe me," she said out loud. "And I'm collecting."

xxxxx

Eric pushed through the doors to the OR and walked to his scrub nurse, allowing her to glove him. Taking a steadying breath he walked to the table where Patrick lay. He gave a wry smile from behind his mask as he saw his friend's shaved head.

"You are going to be some pissed about your hair" he teased quietly.

Bending down he closed his hand around Patrick's and gave it a small squeeze. Per Eric's request, the Michael the Archangel medallion had been taped to the inside of Patrick's hand. "Alright, listen up Pantsy - Robin's outside waiting for you and she will kick my ass if you don't come out of this so I need you to promise me that if see any kind of warm, white light that you'll walk in the other direction. My rep couldn't take it if it got out that I was beaten up by a girl so you just hang on, okay?"

Giving Patrick's hand a final squeeze, he walked to the head of the table and looked to his assistant. "Bone saw" he stated, his hand outstretched. "Alright everyone, let's get started."