Chapter 98
You left something undone and now it's your rerun
Patrick's hands twitched and trembled and his head rolled back against the pillow in the grips of a nightmare. He was struggling to wake up but could not break free from the hold it had on him. His heart hammered against his ribs as his breathing became shallower.
"I can't understand you" Robin told him. "I don't know what you are saying. All I know is that you left me and I needed you - you broke your promise and you broke my heart. I am too tired to go on like this." She inched towards the ledge. "I am too tired and too sad" She stepped back on the ledge.
Patrick tried to grab hold of her but she simply moved out his way. His body shook and the pain in his head was intense as he tried to get to her. He felt a momentary sense of relief as she sat down on the ledge and as he paused to catch his breath, he watched in horror as she tipped backwards falling to the street below.
"NOOOOOOOOO!!" he screamed.
Still not fully awake, he sat up screaming and ripped his i.v. from his arm. Frantically kicking back the covers he swung his legs to the floor and pushed himself out of bed, ignoring the rush of blood away from his head as he did so. He shuffled to the door and with a forced exertion pulled the door open and started to wander down the hall.
"Ooobin" he cried, banging on the wall with his fist.
Two nurses approached him, attempting to calm him down but ducked as he threw a food tray at them.
"Ooobin!" he called out again, slapping the wall. He stumbled, tripping over his feet but managed to keep himself upright.
As one nurse called for an orderly, Noah came racing down the hall. "Patrick!"
"OOOBIN!!" he yelled, tears streaming down his face. Grabbing hold of the door frame, he banged his forehead against it until Noah managed to get behind him and closing his arms around him pulled him away from the door.
"Patrick" he called to him, "Patrick wake up! You need to wake up."
His knees shook as he sobbed and it took all of Noah's strength to keep him on his feet. Looking over his shoulder, he called to the nurse to bring him a wheelchair and he gently sat his weeping son in it. Crouching down in front of him, he patted his legs.
"Patty – Patrick – wake up!"
His brown eyes darted wildly around him as he continued to mutter Robin's name over and over again. Finally the sound of his father's voice broke through the fog and he gasped loudly as he broke free from the nightmare.
"D-d-dad" His chest heaved with rapid, shallow breaths.
Noah blew out his cheeks in relief as his
son started to focus. "Take a deep breath Patrick" he
guided him gently. "Deep and slow"
"Ooobin?"
he asked urgently, looking around the hall for her.
"She's at Eric's, asleep. Now take a breath"
With his eyes locked on his father, he took one long breath after another until it no longer felt as though his heart was going to explode out of his chest.
"I think we should consider placing him in the psych ward" came a voice from the group gathered around.
Swivelling his head around in search of the offending speaker, Noah narrowed his eyes. "He is not a psych case" he bit out. "He is a neurological case and you will not be moving him anywhere."
Not swayed by the older man crouched protectively in front of his son, a young, cocky doctor stepped forward. "I am the attending on duty and with all due respect I think I'm better placed to make that judgement than you are."
Patrick nervously grabbed for his father's hand, not understanding how he had wound up in the hallway and why he was suddenly being talked about as a psych patient.
Holding on to his son's hand, Noah rose to his full height and glared at the doctor. "You can take your respect and shove it. I'm a neurosurgeon and I'm perfectly well placed to judge what is and isn't a psych case. I'm taking my son back to his room and hopefully one of you has managed to page Doctor Smitherman."
Taking hold of the handles on the back of the chair he pushed his son down the hall and back into his room. As gently as he could, he helped him to his feet and back into his bed. Seeing the i.v. tubing trailing along the ground, he looked quickly at Patrick and saw blood running down his arm. Grabbing a couple of tissues, he pressed them against his arm to stop the bleeding.
Encased in a cold sweat and shivering, Patrick continued to look around the room for Robin. The nightmare had been frighteningly vivid though it made little sense to him. He didn't understand how he had lied to Robin or broken her heart and he was overwhelmed with a need to see her. He wanted to touch her, hold her, make sure she was all right and that she understood that he loved her.
Noah pulled the blankets up to his shoulders and patted his shoulder. "It's all right Patrick – it's going to be all right."
"Ooobin?" he asked again, his eyes welling with tears of fear and frustration.
What if something had happened to Robin they were afraid to tell him – afraid it would impact his recovery – and kept it from him? He could not make himself understood and it was killing him.
"Robin is fine" Noah reassured him again. "She's at Eric's resting. You saw her a few hours ago, remember?" He opened his mouth but was too exhausted to wrap his tongue around any more words.
"Son, did you have a nightmare?" he asked.
There was something familiar about his abject panic, reminding him of when he had found him out of bed just after his first surgery. Patrick seemed to have no memory of it following his second surgery but he believed then as he did now that something drove him from his bed. There was some need or worry that he needed resolved and he knew his son well enough to know that Robin was likely the only person who could provoke such a reaction in him.
Nodding, Patrick jerked his head towards the white board on the nightstand. Noah placed it in his lap and put the pen between his fingers. His hand shook slightly as he wrote.
Did she fall?
"No" he told him clearly. "Patrick, Robin is fine I promise you."
Eric blew through the door, throwing his stethoscope around his neck. "Did you think I was kidding about restraints?" he snapped as he kicked the door closed behind him. "Because I'm not."
"S-s-s-sorry" he stammered nervously. His friend's blue eyes blazed angrily as he approached the bed.
"He had a nightmare" Noah offered, well aware that it fear more than anything pushing the young doctor's anger to the surface.
Eric shook his head and inhaled sharply. Pulling his pen light from his pocket, he checked the reaction of his pupils and performed a light neuro exam. Patrick winced as Eric pressed against his forehead.
"The nurse said you were banging your head against a wall – what was that about?"
His fury was slowly dissipating. He had barely walked through the hospital doors when he was accosted by the attending and a nurse both demanding that Patrick be moved to a psych floor. His rage had more to do with their inability to handle the situation and hasty desire to punt his case somewhere else than anything.
Patrick wrote unsteadily. I don't remember.
"What was the nightmare about?"
Robin fell.
Looking at the back of Patrick's head, Eric sighed. "You popped a couple of stitches but nothing too bad, I'll redo them." He stalked back to the door and headed to the Nurses Station to order a suture kit.
Noah followed him out and stood beside him, his hands shoved in his pockets nervously jangling his change. "It seems he has a few more words" he remarked casually.
"Yes" Eric replied, exhaling slowly leaning against the counter. "That's a good sign – the nightmare less so."
"Can I…" he paused and cleared his throat. "Can I offer an opinion?"
Turning slowly to face the older doctor, he nodded. "Please"
"I think it's time to get Patrick out of the hospital. He's not critical, all of his treatments can be administered in a home setting and I think it would help him both with his memory and speech if he was in a place that didn't cause him stress."
"You think the hospital is contributing to the nightmares?"
"It wouldn't be the first time."
"It's a long drive back to Port Charles" he noted.
"He wants to go to the Hamptons for a few weeks before going home – I think it's not a bad idea."
Tugging on his lower lip, he considered Noah's suggestion. There were pros and cons to him staying hospital and to releasing him and at the moment he was not sure that one was worse than the other.
"I'd like him to be assessed by a speech therapist before he goes" he said. "He needs a good baseline to work from."
Noah nodded. "It will take me a couple of days to get the house ready for him so that would give you time to do that. Eric, I'm not trying to force your hand or push you into a decision you, as his doctor, are not ready to make. I'm just offering my two cents."
He gave a shy, grateful smile. "I appreciate it Noah. And I agree with you. Let me know when the house is ready and I'll make arrangements."
"Doctor Smitherman?" the nurse interrupted. "The suture kit is ready." Eric nodded and headed into his room.
****
Snapping
on a pair of latex gloves, he repositioned Patrick in the bed and
injected a topical anaesthetic. "Maintenance is coming down and
they are going to install different bed rails on your bed so you
can't get out."
Patrick held up his white board. You're pissed with me
Eric sighed heavily. "Not with you Pantsy. I'm just pissed."
About what?
"I'm just pissed, okay?" he snapped. "I'm tired and cranky and-"
"P-p-pissed" Patrick said.
As his hard fought for word echoed in the room, Eric dissolved into laughter with Patrick following suit. The tension broken, he threaded the suture through the needle and carefully repaired what had come undone.
"I'm going to call for a speech therapy consult for you tomorrow so we can make a plan for you to get more than just the vulgar words back. And then we'll look at releasing you."
Are you telling me the truth about Robin?
"What do you mean?" he asked as he finished off the last of the sutures and applied a fresh bandage.
She really is okay? Don't lie to me. He could not shake the rumbly hangover his nightmare had produced. He wanted desperately to see her.
Coming around the bed and helping him settle against the pillows, Eric stared at him intently. ".fine" he said slowly. "Pantsy – you and I have been through too much for me to ever lie to you – you know that" he rebuked him gently.
Slightly mollified, Patrick nodded. Does she know I love her?
Eric studied him carefully. His friend was one of the most confident people he knew, even at his lowest point prior to surgery, he never doubted himself where Robin was concerned and this new wrinkle was a little disquieting. Major surgeries provoked personality changes, there was no doubt, but he wondered just how much of a change his friend was experiencing.
"Do you remember what the
nightmare was about?"
She fell.
"Anything else?"
"No"
"Pantsy, she knows you love her – you've told her and shown her. I need you to believe that and not get yourself all tied up in knots over it."
How does she know?
Saying nothing, Eric walked to the bathroom and retrieved a small mirror that Robin had left in there. "Lift your shirt up" he told him as he emerged from the bathroom. "Up to your neck."
Patrick gave him a quizzical look but did as he was asked. Eric stood at the foot of his bed and positioned the mirror so he could see the reflection of his tattoo in it.
"That's one of the ways she knows" he told him kindly.
Patrick's eyes widened in shock and looking down, he fingered the claddagh design. The sadness in Robin's eyes when he did not recognize her necklace finally made sense. He understood the doubt it would have created in her, the way his nightmare created doubt in him.
Images flashed before his eyes – Robin in an evening gown; the two of them at a hockey game; on the couch waffles. The scenes felt familiar but he couldn't quite place them. Closing his eyes, he sank back against the pillows and put his hand over his tattoo. He knew now his memories weren't gone, they were just hidden away.
And he was going to dig them out one way or another.