Chapter 184

Put me back on the right road home

Patrick paced endlessly in the waiting room. His arm was braced against his chest and though it throbbed persistently, he had refused all offers of pain medication even when they popped his shoulder back into joint; he wanted to be clear headed if he was needed.

Back when Eric had cancer and his support system had dwindled, he had given his medical proxy to Patrick, telling him he was the only person he trusted to make decisions on his behalf. There had been a difficult, painful discussion about prolonging his life unnecessarily. Patrick had not wanted to have that conversation, he had not wanted the responsibility of ultimately making that decision but Eric had been clear with him – he was not willing to be kept alive by machines just so that other people would feel better. If his chances of recovering himself, being the person he knew he was, were slim then he did not want to have his life prolonged.

And while clinically Patrick understood that Eric's injuries were not life threatening, the damage to his brain was unknown. Eric had been the one constant in his life when everything else was in turmoil and while watching him slowly fade with cancer had been difficult, this – this sudden, unexpected turn of events was excruciating.

He must have flipped open his phone two dozen times to call Robin – even just the sound of her voice would soothe him but he never dialled her number. He needed to be alert and strong for Eric and for Alexis and he was sure that if he heard Robin's voice he would let reality seep in and he would collapse into a heap on the floor under the weight of it all. He would call her but only once everything else was settled, once he was sure he could stop and let himself be comforted. Until then he did the only thing he could do, he stayed in motion.

Almost another hour passed before he saw the surgeon coming down the hall. He stopped in his tracks and waited, ready to absorb whatever body blow he had to. Closing his eyes, he sucked in a deep breath and braced himself.

"Doctor Drake?"

Patrick nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak.

"I'm Doctor Welsh."

"How is he?"

The older surgeon smiled. "He came through fine. We pinned his ankle and placed a small plate in his left cheek to stabilize the bone."

"Brain damage?"

"Too soon to tell" he replied, "as you know."

The surgical team had been shocked to see one of their own on the table and there were some among them who remembered the days when Doctors Drake and Smitherman ruled the roost as certified young guns.

"No craniotomy?"

Doctor Welsh shook his head. "He has a definite concussion and some small skull fractures but there is no significant bleeding in his brain."

"Thank god" Patrick whispered.

"We've also got him on some Albuterol to help ease some of the respiratory issues from the smoke inhalation. And by the sounds of you," he added, "I think you could do with the same."

He shook his head. "No – not yet. His…his girlfriend is on the way," he coughed painfully, "and I…I need to meet her and explain what's happened to Eric."

The doctor cast a critical glance over him and gently put his arm under his elbow. "Doctor Drake, I knew your father and he wouldn't be very pleased to have you wandering around ignoring your own health. Let me take you to Doctor Smitherman's room where you can wait for him to come from recovery. I'll set you up with an inhaler and you can get to work on getting some relief to your lungs."

"But his-"

The doctor continued to lead him out of the waiting room and down the hall. "I will make sure that his girlfriend knows where to find both of you. You'll not do the young lad any good to ignore your own injuries for him. We taught you better than that here," he rebuked him kindly.

Too tired to fight, too sore to resist, Patrick allowed himself to be led to the room. Doctor Welsh settled him into a chair and returned with a mask and nebulizer. He waited until he was satisfied the young doctor was following orders, he left the room with a promise to tell the Nurses Station where to direct Ms. Davis when she arrived.

Closing his eyes, Patrick inhaled deeply and felt some relief as his lungs seemed to open up. His mind drifted to the last conversation he had with Robin and he cringed inwardly. If the worst had happened she would be left with memories of him asking about a custody agreement. He knew he wasn't wrong to bring it up but it seemed so inconsequential now. It had been weeks since he told her loved her and yet he did – more not less – and regardless of the state of their relationship, he would not let that go unsaid again. When he got the opportunity to speak with her he was going to tell her that he loved her – totally, completely and without hesitation. His heart belonged to her and always would, no matter what Robin decided.

He heard the door creak open and he sat up straight, nearly choking on the medicine. Eric was wheeled in and gently transferred to the waiting bed. Patrick scrambled to his feet and moved to his bed side. Grimacing, he took in the physical toll. Eric's face was black and blue; one eye was definitely swollen shut. His breathing was steadier than it had been in the field but still not as strong as it could be. There were several long cuts along his forehead and in his hairline – no doubt a result of the shattered windshield.

Lowering the nebulizer, he smiled ruefully at his friend. "That's an ugly mug you've got there Smitty," he told him as lightly as he could manage. "And are you going to be pissed about your ankle."

He put his hand on his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. "Thanks for sticking around for me. Now if you wouldn't mind, I'd really like you to work on opening your eyes. I just….I need you to be okay."

As his lungs seized again, Patrick coughed violently and put the mask back on, inhaling deeply.

"Patrick"

Turning, he saw Alexis standing in the doorway. He removed the mask and walked to her, surprised that his knees were trembling as he did so.

"Alexis-"

"Are you okay?" she asked, trying not to let her eyes wander to the bed.

He nodded. "I'm a little beaten up but I'm okay." He held out his good hand to her. "Come here and let me….let me tell you about Eric."

As they approached the bed, Alexis gasped. Patrick had told her they had been in a car accident and that Eric was unconscious but nothing he told her had prepared her for the sight before her. She felt like her heart was cracking as she continued to stare at him.

Patrick talked her through the injuries, explaining the need for the pins and the plate. He offered an opinion as to how long it would take for him to wake up and what they could expect when he did. Alexis heard everything he said but found it difficult to take it all in. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed with him and hold on tightly.

"Alexis?"

"Sorry, what?" she asked, turning towards him.

"Do you have any questions?"

She exhaled slowly. "I have a million of them" she smiled wryly, "but none that need answers right now. Right now I just…I just want to sit with him."

Nodding, Patrick gently touched her arm. "I'm just going to go sit outside. If you need me, come and get me."

He could feel his strength fading. He had told himself that he needed to hang on until Alexis arrived and now that she had he was sinking into exhaustion. Shuffling from the room, he found a chair in the entrance of the room and slid into it. He put the mask back on and took another deep breath before reaching for his phone. Snapping it open, he stared at the blank screen.

"If you're trying to call me," Robin said, stepping towards him, "you don't have to. I'm right here."

Patrick blinked in total disbelief. He wasn't sure if she was really there or he was imagining her. He stared at her, his hand trembling around the phone until it dropped to the floor.