Chapter 82

When the stars have all gone out, you'll still be burning so bright

Noah stood in the doorway of the waiting room and gave a small smile as he saw Robin sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. Her legs were pulled up to her chest and her chin rested on top of her knees. Her eyes were closed but he knew she wasn't sleeping. It was going to be a long night but there would be no sleep for any of them until they knew Patrick was out of danger.

He had tried not to panic after he had hung up form her phone call. His collapse was an inevitability and he felt that perhaps it was an act of grace that his son was unconcious as he entered the OR. His son was brave and liked to push life to the edge but he had been terrified of this surgery and Noah thought maybe it would help him somehow not to have to be afraid going in. He was also relieved beyond belief that Robin had been with him when it happened. There was the practicality of him not being alone but more than that he was sure that his son drew strength and solace from Robin's presence and he was in need of both at this time.

He quietly crossed the floor, carrying two coffees in his hand and sat down next to her. "Robin," he called to her.

Her head snapped up and she smiled warmly as she met Noah's gaze. Unfurling her legs, she turned in her seat and hugged him tightly. "Hi" she greeted him softly.

Noah rubbed her back both giving and taking comfort in the embrace. "Hey there."

They slowly pulled apart and Noah passed a coffee to her. "Two milks and four sugars, right?"

She smiled sheepishly. "Yes. I like it sweet."

He nodded as he flipped back the plastic tab on his lid. "How long has he been under?"

Robin glanced at her watch. "Five hours, 48 minutes. In your experience...how long do you think?"

"Between 12 and 14 hours," he answered. "Longer than that and I will start to fret. How are you?"

She took a long drink from her coffee as she contemplated her answer. "I'm hopeful" she finally answered.

"Good. Me too."

Pulling one leg back to her chest, Robin looked at Noah and opened her mouth to speak before closing it again. Taking another sip from her coffee, she cocked her head to the side and finally spoke. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course"

"How...how long was Mattie's surgery before..." She let her voice trail off, not wanting to complete her question for fear of upsetting him.

"Before she died?" he finished for her. Robin nodded. "We were in to hour 10 when it started to go very wrong. I couldn't get the bleeders under control, her blood pressure was all over the map and she started to have multiple seizures. Her heart simply couldn't take it and we were unable to revive her."

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable by bringing it up."

"You didn't" he answered with a shake of his head. "It's nice..." he paused, "it's nice to be able to talk about it without all the baggage that normally comes along with this particular conversation."

Gently touching his arm, Robin smiled. "You know that Patrick loves you right?"

"I do," he told her. "And now I'm working on getting him to like me." Robin smiled. "I, uh...I made him a collage of pictures," he admitted, smirking as Robin's eyebrows shot up questioningly. "I got a bunch of photos of him as a kid and laid them out. You know, he was a happy and loved child and I wanted to remind him of that. It doesn't negate what I did but what I did doesn't erase all the good that came before it."

"Patrick is a good man Noah and you had a lot to do with that. And as someone who has been the recepient of his goodness, I am very grateful for that."

Touched by her comment, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Thank you," he told her softly.

xxxx

The only sound in the room, as they sat in silence, was the quiet ticking of the clock. The hallways were bustling with action - loud voices echoing, people rushing by - but inside the room it felt as though they were in a bubble. It was like some kind of suspended animation for them, waiting for the time to pass until the moment where they would find out what came next.

Glancing at her watch, Robin turned to Noah. "Seven hours, 28 minutes."

"Just over halfway through." He exhaled and dragged his hand through his hair. It was never easy to wait while a loved one was in surgery but there was something slightly more torturous about it for a surgeon. Being intimately familiar with the surgery, the risks and the possible outcomes and yet being unable to do anything about it was both frustrating and nerve racking.

A small knock on the door caused them both to look up. Robin's face broke into a wide smile and she sprinted across the room launching herself into her uncle's arms

"How did you know?" she asked, her voice muffled against his chest as he hugged her tightly.

"I told him," Alexis said, coming in behind Mac.

Not letting go of her uncle, Robin gave her a curious look. "And how did you know?"

She smiled shyly. "I'm Patrick's lawyer and there was an order on his chart that I be notified once his surgery began."

Noah closed his eyes as he brought his head to rest against the wall behind him. He had been relatively calm about everything so far but the idea of his son putting his affairs in order - alone - was like a punch to the stomach and he needed a moment to gather himself.

"His lawyer?" Robin queried. Her face fell slightly as realization dawned. "Oh."

Mac tightened his embrace around his niece and ksised the top of her head. "It's going to be okay sweetheart."

With a fierce determination in her eyes, she nodded. "Yes it is."

Alexis stepped further inside the waiting room and placing her briefcase on the table, popped it open. Flipping open the file, she retreived two envelopes and turned towards Noah and Robin.

"Patrick has instructed me to give these letters to you once his surgery began. You can read them now or at any time of your choosing but he wanted you to have them now." She handed them each an envelope with their name on the front in Patrick's familiar messy scrawl.

Robin sank in to the chair, Mac beside her, and stared at the envelope. There was a part of her that was unsure she wanted to read his thoughts. What if he had been in place of hoplessness when he wrote them? What if there was something in there that when he woke up he would prefer that he not have told her? What if the letter was saying goodbye? She traced her finger along the edge of the crisp, white enveloped and let out a shaky breath. This was the first moment of uncertainty she was experiencing since she arrived at the apartment and it was throwing her just a little.

Noah tapped the envelope and then rose to his feet. "If you'll excuse me" he said to them, "I think I'm going to stretch my legs." Tucking the letter in the back pocket of his jeans, he headed out the door.

Snapping her briefcase shut, Alexis smiled sympathetically at Robin. "I'm going to head to my hotel. Call me if there is anything I can do for you - I'll say a prayer for Patrick."

"Actually there is something you can do for me," Robin told her.

"Name it"

"Stay."

"Robin I don't want to intrude-"

"You aren't. You've been a good friend to both of us - you brought my uncle. Patrick would like that you are here. Not to mention I think Eric is going to need you when this is over."

Alexis' face fell slightly at the mention of his name. They had not spoken since she had dismissed his feelings for her and essentially pushed him out the door. The irony of course was that he was not the only person who had fallen with an almighty thud but she was unable to get out of her own way and let something good happen. "Robin, Eric and I aren't..." her voice trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

"He's going to need you all the same. Please stay?"

Unable to resist her friend's request, Alexis smiled. Putting her briefcase on the ground, she settled into a chair and joined the wait.

xxxxx

In the far corner of the cafeteria, away from the whirl of activity, Noah had laid the letter on the table. If he were being honest with himself, he would admit that he was a little afraid of the contents, unsure of what it was his son wanted him to know as his surgery began but if his recovery had taught him anything it was that there was simply no hiding from the truth.

Inhaling sharply, he picked the envelope up and dragged his finger under the seal. He pulled the carefully folded letter from inside and pressed it flat. Picking it up, he began to read

Dear Dad -

If you're reading this then it means that I'm in surgery.

I have had a lot of time to reflect on my life in the last few weeks and as I've become progressively weaker I've been thinking a lot about Mom and you. Mom must have been very scared towards the end because I know I am. I would give almost anything to never have experienced this. As bad as the pain has been, it's the possiblity of dying before I'm ready that really hurts. Though it probably sounds weird there is a small part of me that is grateful for this because it's allowed me to finally get some perspective on my life.

I love the pictures you brought - we really had some good times as a family, didn't we? I look at those pictures and I remember how happy we were. I was definitely a spoiled kid whose parents were indulgent and loving. And I understand now how devastating Mom's illness must have been on you. For so many years I've only been able to think about the impact of her illness and death on me. I was quite beligerent with you about your selfishness and your inability to see anyone else's pain, how little did I realize that I was doing the same thing. My grief was all consuming and I didn't think it was possible that anyone could feel as empty and sad as I did. You must have, especially towards the end when she was so sick, felt very alone. I was a self-centered teenager who couldn't see beyond himself and for that I am truly sorry. I wish I had been a better son to you then.

I've also done a lot of thinking about forgiveness and what it means and whether it makes a difference. For a long time I've withheld my forgiveness from you because I was trying to punish you. I wanted you to feel as badly as I did - what I didn't realize was that the pain you were in far exceeded anything I could inflict on you. The thing I've discovered is that by doing that I've only made the weight I'm carrying heavier and the person truly being punished here is me. So I've decided to put the weight down - I'm not going to carry it any longer.

I forgive you.

During the last couple of times you visited, you made a point of telling me how much I'm like Mom - how similar our personalities are and I can see that. But I'd like to think that I'm also a little like you because Dad, you are a good guy. A lot of who I am as a man is based on growing up with you and given that it has led me to Robin, I'm grateful.

I want to thank you for so many things - playing catch in the backyard, Saturdays at the racetrack, movie days, teaching me how to shoot the perfect wrist shot. But mostly I want to thank for not giving up on me even when I begged and yelled at you to do so. You'll never know how much your visits, your reassurances and the reminders that you love me, meant.

I'm not sure what's waiting for me on the other side of surgery and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little afraid. But I want you to know that I love you and I am glad that you are my Dad. No kid could have asked for better.

Love,

Patrick.