Chapter 198

I'll look after you

The news had been like a punch to the gut. Or a vice grip around her lungs. Either way it had left her breathless. As she sat on the couch staring out the patio door, she replayed the conversation over and over again in her mind hoping against hope that somehow, some way, it would change. But it didn't. It had been four hours and every time she was sure there wasn't a tear left to spill a new batch would rush down her face.

It wasn't as though she hadn't been here before – she had. But it had been so long and in some ways she had become complacent. What had been commonplace for such a long time had receded back into the shadows and was now a rarity. Or at least she believed it a rarity, which meant she hadn't been paying attention.

People spent hundreds – thousands – of dollars going to fortune tellers and psychics for a glimpse, however fleeting, of the future. So many were dying of curiosity as to what was next, what would everything look like down the road but not her. She didn't need someone to tell her what the future held, she already knew and today she got another reminder.

She rubbed her belly – their baby was kicking up a storm – trying to draw comfort from it but it some ways – in many ways – it made it worse, so much worse. Most people looked to the future with unbridled optimism and excitement and she often did too but she learned long ago that optimism and excitement needed to be tempered with reality. It was a lesson she had lost sight of but it had all come crashing back on her and it was threatening to suffocate her. She had picked up the phone to call Patrick but never completed the call; she thought of Brenda or Mac or Alexis but just closed her phone instead. It was all so crushing she wasn't sure she was ready to put it into words – to say it out loud; which was stupid, she knew that. Not saying something doesn't make it less true. Not saying something doesn't mean it isn't happening. Not saying something was just swallowing down the fear because it was less painful than speaking it.

She swiped furiously at the fresh gush of tears that were tumbling down her cheeks. She hated to cry, it felt like such a useless and unproductive activity. Crying never changed anything. All the tears she spilled when she believed her parents were dead didn't change anything. The tears over Stone and over Jason did nothing to alter what happened. And the tears she was crying now would change nothing here. Useless and unproductive. And yet she couldn't stop.

Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate on something else – anything else – but it was a fool's errand. Her mind could only hold one thought at the moment and no matter what she did there was no avoiding it. She envied people who could switch their minds off, who could just power down and clear their headspace. It was not a skill she had ever possessed.

She didn't hear the key in the door and it wasn't until she could feel Patrick standing in front of her that she even realized he was home. His touch of her shoulder was soft, gentle and familiar. Even something as simple as his hand on her shoulder made her body hum and awaken. There had been long periods in her life when she wasn't touched, when people wouldn't put their hands on her but Patrick had changed that for her.

"Hey babe," he called softly to her.

His jaw slacked a little as she opened her eyes and he saw the red rims and puffiness. There was no mistaking that she had been crying and it squeezed his heart. He sank to the couch and put his hand against her cheek.

"Robin? Robin, what's wrong?"

The tears started again and Patrick began to panic. "Are you okay? Did something happen to you? To the baby?"

"The baby's fine" she squeaked out before throwing her arms around him.

His arms closed quickly around her and he held her tightly to his body. His mind raced at warp speed through any number of scenarios trying to figure out what was wrong. Hot tears landed on his shoulder and he rubbed her back, trying to soothe her.

"Robin?" he queried again.

Pulling back from his warm embrace, she smiled sadly. "I saw Darren today."

"Oh?" he prodded carefully.

Her bottom lip quivered and her throat closed up. She swallowed thickly before sucking in a breath.

"He has AIDS."

All the air rushed from Patrick's lungs.

It was his turn to grab on to her and he did. The news had him reeling and his first reaction was to hold on to her. Actually, his first reaction was to try and build a force field around her to protect her from everything Darren's diagnosis implied but he had to settle for holding her.

"How long?"

"About a month" she replied.

"I thought….I thought they were just waiting to find the right combo of ARVs," he stammered.

Robin nodded against his shoulder. "It was too late. His t-cells have continued to fall and then in the last few weeks he developed histoplasmosis."

Leaning back, his brow furrowed, Patrick shook his head. "I don't….he….I was sure they were going to find the right meds."

"Me too" she replied sadly. "But there wasn't any combination that would stick. T-cells continued to drop and his viral load kept climbing."

"Are they sure?" He of course knew the answer but there was something comforting, albeit momentarily, in hoping that the test results were wrong.

"Yes."

"How was he when you saw him?"

"Upbeat. He's always upbeat." Robin shook her head, willing the tears to disappear. "Patrick, he's…..he's dying."

He folded her in his arms again and held on to her as tightly and for as long as he could. His own heart was hammering loudly inside his chest and he was desperately trying to stop his mind from going to a place he tried to avoid at all costs.

Several long minutes passed before Robin finally extricated herself from his embrace. "I….do you….are we wrong for having this child?" she asked.

His eyes bulged in shock and he searched in vain for his words for several beats. "R-robin," he sighed. "Wrong? How….how could having this child be wrong?"

She grimaced and bit down on her bottom lip. "Because what's happening to Darren is going to happen to me" she said bluntly. "And our child is going to watch me die. You are going to watch me die. Maybe….maybe it would be better if we didn't-"

"Don't" he interrupted. "Don't finish that sentence."

"Why not? You don't….you don't know what death from AIDS looks like Patrick. I do. AIDS is a fucker of a disease because it kills you in inches; it steals pieces here and there but generally leaves you aware enough to know what you are losing. It's painful and horrific and the most inelegant way to die."

"Stop it," he whispered, pleadingly.

"You need to know what you're getting into" she challenged, almost angrily. "You need to understand – really understand – what your future is; what my future is. I am going to die Patrick. Painfully, slowly, awfully. And if you marry me then you're going to see all of that. Our child is going to watch all of that. I will ruin your lives. You would be better off avoiding it."

His brown eyes flashed angrily as he shook his head. "Do you somehow think that if I left you I would be unaffected by your death? My dad told me – ironically when I was running away – that the heart doesn't recognize distance and he's right. I could be on another planet Robin and what happens to you would affect me. You are in my heart," he thumped his chest. "Right here. Nothing can or will ever change that."

"You can't want this," she said quietly.

"I don't," he admitted. "I don't want you to die." Large tears slid silently down his face. "I would lay down my life if it meant that you would live. But that's not within my control. What is in my control is living – you taught me that."

"When?" she challenged.

"Every day" he answered simply. "Every day you have taught me that living is within my control and I need to embrace what that means."

"Our child-"

"Will be fine," he finished.

Robin curled her fingers through his, needing to touch him. "Your mom died when you were a teenager and look how that affected you. Can you really want our child to watch me die – to die of AIDS?"

Raising her hand, he brought it to his lips and placed a soft kiss against it. "First of all," he began, "I still have hope that there will be a cure. Robin – I don't pray, I don't really know how but when I close my eyes at night and I think of what I want – that is the only thing I want and I ask for it every night."

A small, surprised gasp escaped from the back of her throat.

"Second of all," he said, carrying on. "Long before our child watches you die – if that even happens – they will watch you live. They will see the courage and grace that live on a daily basis and that will sustain them through anything. It will sustain me."

Seeing the tears pooling in his eyes, Robin traced her fingertips underneath his eyes. "I worry about you," she told him quietly. "I worry about leaving you."

His lip trembled and swallowing the acrid lump in his throat, he tried to speak. "You could live to be 200 and your…..your….."

"My death?" she offered.

He nodded, a tear escaping. "Your death would be as devastating to me then as it would be at any other time. Robin, there is no end point for us. There is no natural conclusion to our relationship – there is no conclusion to our relationship. There isn't a single circumstance that I can think of where I would be okay with you…..with you dying."

"Why did you get involved with me?" she asked as she dropped her head to his shoulder. "You knew when you started pursuing me that I had HIV. And I know you didn't think you'd fall in love with me but you still knew."

Sliding his finger underneath her chin, he tipped her face up towards him. "You make it sound like there was an option, Robin. As though this was a conscious choice on my part. It wasn't. You are who I am meant to be with and HIV was always a consideration but never a reason not to get involved with you. You stood by my side when my life hung in the balance – through seizures and radiation burns, through a feeding tube, surgeries, aphasia – why?"

"Because I love you" she answered quickly.

"Exactly." A tiny smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Sliding her arms around his waist, she brought her head to rest on his chest. "I….I think I forgot for a while that AIDS can happen at any time. I chided people for thinking having HIV was like popping Flintstone vitamins but somewhere in my mind I think I did the same thing."

"Robin"

"No, I mean it," she continued softly. "I think I had this false sense of security – even with the change in my protocol, it was a blip and then my viral load tumbled back down. I….I think I have taken my health for granted a little."

Closing his arms around her, he kissed the top of her head. "I haven't," he replied quietly. "Not even a little."

"Can you….can you just keep holding me for a while?"

"I will hold you for as long as you need me to."

They were quiet again, each lost in their own thoughts and the glare of the bright light shined in the dark corner.

"I know we haven't really talked wedding," Patrick said, breaking the silence, "but there is one change I would like to make in the wedding vows."

Lifting her head, she looked at him quizzically. "What's that?"

"I don't want to say 'until death do us part'. I just want to promise to love you forever."