Epilogue

I'll meet you in the tall grass up on heaven's highest hill

30 years later

The chatter coming from the kitchen grew louder with every new story told. Patrick, with grey framing his temples and fine lines etched near his eyes leaned against the counter and simply shook his head. They had spent years redecorating and renovating the Hamptons house to make it as inviting and open as possible. There were fireplaces in almost every room - a necessity to take the chill from the cold October evening, lots of soft seating to be had but no matter what they did people always wound up crowding into the kitchen. Robin had chided him whenever he groused about it, reminding him the kitchen was the heart of the home; he always corrected her and told her she, not the kitchen, was the heart of any home they occupied.

Bringing a beer bottle to his lips and taking a quick sip, he surveyed the scene before him. Kathleen, their beautiful daugther with her long dark hair hanging straight down her back and a dusting of freckles on her cheeks, looked more and more like her mother every day. Her growing belly gave advance notice of an impending grandchild and the thought of the next generation filled his heart. He was excited to meet the little one she carried as he had been to meet her when Robin had been pregnant all those years earlier. He smiled into the bottle as she sought out her husband, Aaron, and shyly entwined her fingers through his bringing her head to rest on his shoulder.

An award winning architect, Kathleen had worked alongside her parents in helping to remodel the Hamptons house and not for the first time they had both been enormously impressed with their daughter's talent. Patrick had claimed that he had known this was her destiny when she took apart her favourite doll house at age 6 and rebuilt it to her liking. The story always resulted in a groan of protest from his daughter but he loved to tell it.

"Ganpa! Ganpa!" the young boy called tearing into the kitchen.

Crouching down Patrick held open his arms and scopped up his young grandson. A smart boy of six, Mackenzie had the curiosity of his grandmother and the endless energy of his grandfather. "Hey sport," he greeted him, kissing his cheek. "What's up?"

"I saw a fox! Run right by the window. I wanted to chase it but Daddy said I couldn't."

He smiled at his son-in-law and nodded. "Your Daddy is right. Best to leave those foxes their space."

"Okay," he agreed. "Auntie Martha said the twins are awake. Ima gonna go see 'em." Wriggling out of his arms until his little feet touched the ground, Mackenzie tore back out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

He looked over at his son, Seamus. "They're awake?"

He nodded tiredly. "Four hours. I would give my left arm for them to sleep for four straight hours."

Patrick clapped his shoulder. "Consider it payback."

"So you and Mom keep saying."

Darren had died almost two years after their wedding and his death, while expected, had shaken both Robin and Patrick to their collective core. Robin needed a break from work and wanted nothing more than to stay at home and be a mom to their daughter. Patrick, sensing they all needed a change, accepted a one year assignment to University Hospital in Dublin to head up their Neurosciences department. In no time they were settled and had fallen in love with Ireland. Robin and Kathleen would head out on an adventure every day and on Patrick's days off, he would join them. There had been picnics in parks, trips up the coast just to watch the rough Irish sea beat its waves against the sturdy cliffs. The list - the to do list he had started three years earlier - was added to and expanded with new excursions and discoveries to be had. Ireland became a place for them to heal and renew their hope. Almost six months into the assignment, Robin suggested they were ready for another child and Patrick agreed. So enamoured with the country, Patrick had his assignment extended so their child could be born on Irish soil. It was Robin who had picked his name - Seamus - and he loved that their son bore a name from a place that had felt like magic to them.

A chef, Seamus had spent several years studying in Paris and perfecting his craft. He had his offer of almost any restaurant he wanted in London or Paris but home was calling and he returned to Port Charles to open his own place - La Dolce Vita. His sister helped him design it and his grand opening had provided more than good reviews - it was also gave him the love of his life. Martha, a star journalist at the Port Charles Times, had come as the guest of another writer but it was love at first sight the minute Seamus locked eyes with her. Not yet married, they had welcomed twin daughters - Mabel and Ava - five months earlier and much like his father, Seamus took to fatherhood like he had been born to it.

"I seem to recall you looking for more sympathy when young Seamus here had you pacing the floors until all hours" Eric remarked, joining the two men at the kitchen table.

"Leave it to you to ruin my fun" Patrick grumbled good naturedly.

He shrugged unapologetically. "It's my job."

Patrick shook his head. "Jerk. Why do I keep you around?"

"Because no one else will put up with you?" Seamus asked.

His father cuffed him on the back of the head while winking at his best friend. Eric's jet black hair had been replaced by silver and he wore it shaved. His cancer had returned almost 10 years ago - a tumour on his spine - and the resulting rounds of chemotherapy had stolen his hair a second time. When it returned, it was in patches and it was Alexis who took clippers to it and gave him his new style. They had all been devastated by his diagnosis but as he had spent months running back and forth for treatment, Eric had developed a close bond with Robin. Who better to be his sounding board about the sneaky and unpredicitable nature of disease than someone else who lived with the same reality? If it had been anyone else Patrick would have been jealous but somehow it was the best of both worlds to see his best friend develop as deep a friendship with his wife as he had with him. The tumour, though beaten, had affected his fine motor skills and drove him from the OR for good. Feeling as though he had more to offer to the medical community, Eric became a medical school professor.

Hearing a light laugh, Eric looked over to the far corner of the kitchen where Josh, Kristina and Alexis were deep in conversation; Alexis was cradling their grandson - Josh's son, Peter - and making quite a fuss over the newborn. An Assistant District Attorney, Josh had built his career around being an advocate for the voiceless and Eric could not have been more proud of the man he had become. A kidney transplant almost two decades earlier had allowed him to pursue every one of his dreams. He had met a woman in law school - Annabella - and had fallen madly in love with her. His only concern had been whether his best friend, Kristina, would approve; he needn't have worried - the two became fast friends and Kristina served as best person at their wedding. On her way to finishing medical school, she liked to joke that the toughest professor she had was her father and that he marked her harder than anyone else. Sonny had been killed when she was eight years old and though she loved him very much, Eric had become the principal male figure in her life and he had gone from being DaddyEric to simply Daddy. Their bond had been a source of joy and happiness for Alexis. When she anounced her intention to become a doctor, his heart had swelled with pride. Having had her as a student, Eric had quietly told Alexis that she was one of the most naturally gifted doctors he had ever seen.

"Did you see the painting Molly did?" Patrick asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

Eric nodded. "It was beautiful. What an amazing family portrait."

Molly, the most free-spirited of all of them, had dropped out of university and spent years in Italy developing her artistic skills. Homesick, she had returned and set up home in New York City; her paintings hung in some of the finest galleries. Alexis was proud of her for following her dreams and Robin, recognizing her talent early on, had been a faithful customer. She in turn repaid her loyalty with portraits and pieces to decorate their homes in Port Charles and the Hamptons.

"Robin thought it was amazing" he said quietly before taking another sip on his beer. "And teased Kathleen that she must have paid Molly to have her ignore the belly bump."

"She did a nice one of your Dad too," Eric remarked.

Smiling sadly, Patrick nodded his agreement. Noah had died of a heart attack three years earlier and Molly, who had come to cherish Noah as a defacto grandfather, had painted a stunning portrait of him that Robin had insisted on hanging in the guest room. It had taken Patrick a long time to come to grips with his father's death. There had been a time when he had almost wished for it but in falling in love with Robin he learned the value of forgiveness and rebuilt his relationship with his father. It was an opportunity he was grateful every day for having.

As the conversations shifted, he slipped from the kitchen door to the back porch. He stood on the step, with his hands on his head, breathing in the fresh air. Alone, his mind was awash with a million thoughts and he was unable to focus on just one. Getting through the last two months had been an act of sheer willpower; he just kept putting one foot in front of the other and hoped he was moving foward. His eyes closed, he smiled as he felt a familiar pair of hands close around his shoulders.

"I'm okay pumpkin" he said quietly.

"I know you are," Kathleen replied. "But I just want you to know you aren't alone."

Looking over his shoulder, he smiled. "I know I'm not. And I love you for checking on me."

"I can't believe she would have been 60 today" she remarked. "She really wanted to see today."

He nodded. "She was right - she didn't live long enough to comb grey through her hair but she did live more in 59 years that some would if given five times the time."

Stepping off the step, he turned and looked at his daughter. He supposed, under other circumstances, her almost identical resemblance to her mother would have been a cause for pain or grief but he found comfort in it. He had long felt Robin was a unique spirit in the world and to see her live on so clearly in Kathleen lessened rather than increased his grief.

"I'm just going to take a walk," he told her as the stars twinkled brightly from the sky above, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Knowing where he was heading, Kathleen could do little but nod and watched as he walked down the familiar path.

The end, when it came, had been mercifully short. Her medication had failed and all attempts at new drug combinations had proven wholly unsuccessfuly. Tumours were spotted in her lungs and a course of treatment was outlined for her but none knew better than Robin that the treatment would simply stave off the inevitable for a short period of time and cause much pain in the process. She wanted the time she had left to be joyous and conscious. In typical Robin fashion, she had gathered her friends and family and told them she was laying down her sword. There had been tears - from everyone - except her. There was grace and peace about her that Patrick envied and admired in equal parts. Robin simply reminded him that she had been given more than she had ever thought possible - a loving husband, two healthy children and three grandchildren with a fourth on the way. Her blessings, in her mind, had outnumbered any shortcomings and she would not complain.

They had moved full time to the Hamptons and Patrick took a leave of absence from his job as Chief of Staff to spend every remaining moment with her. They walked along the beach at sunset; they spent hours in bed in the early mornings just talking and being with each other. He could feel her slowly slipping from him and each day panic would well up inside. He had tried to hide it from her but there was simply no hiding in their relationship and she had taken him one day, to the studio that she loved so much, and they sat curled up together in the rocking chair, staring out at the water.

She had quietly told him that her only regret was leaving him behind - that they had spent so many years together that it would be strange to be separated now. She reminded him that she believed they were not human beings on a spiritual journey but rather spiritual beings on a human journey and she trusted and had faith they would be reunited again. He had been unable to say anything to her - he simply held her and kissed and wished, not for the first time, that he had the power to stop time.

Almost a week later, asleep in his arms, as the sun rose over the water, she died.

Patrick had laid with her for hours before finally trusting himself to let go of her. He had woken their children and gave them the time needed to say goodbye and began to make the necessary arrangements. Her instructions had been very clear - no crocodile tears allowed at her funeral - and she asked to be cremeated, with her ashes buried near the studio at the Hamptons, facing the water and the sunrise.

Ignoring all local laws, Patrick had followed her request to the letter and over the spot where her ashes were buried was a small dark marble stone, marking the spot.

Robin Scorpio-Drake. "And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then you shall truly dance."

Patrick flopped down beside the marker and sighed heavily. "You should know" he said, "that it isn't really a Hamptons party without you. Seamus has cooked enough food for a small army," he laughed, "as usual.I miss you - every day," he told her hoarsely. "But any time I'm not sure about going on, I get a call from Kathleen or a hug from Mackenzie or smiles from Mabel and Ava. You're very crafty, you know that?" he asked her. "You set this all up - children, grandchildren, good friends, so that I wouldn't be alone. I am surrounded by love - just as you intended - I just wish....I just wish I could still hold you in my arms."

He was quiet for several minutes, listening the waves lap softly at the shore. It was almost more than he could bear - being without her - but he had promised her he would not quit, no matter how hard it got.

"Kathleen had an ultrasound yesterday - she's having a girl" he smiled. "We're debating names tonight. She claims so far the best one she has heard is from Peter who has suggested Rocky as a name. I trust she and Aaron will find their own name for her just as we did for her and Seamus."

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a wad of paper that had been folded and refolded dozens of time. Smoothing it out, he smiled as he looked at the top sheet:

Memories to make with Robin AND Patrick

The list that he had started all those years ago when he was sure he was running out of time, now numbered almost fourteen pages. It had become their compass in so many ways over the years. They took turns adding to it and then celebrated each item they were able to cross off. Almost eight years ago, he had come home from work to find the list lying on his pillow with a new addition.

Take a year to travel the world

He had been shocked at the suggestion but as they talked about it and dreamed out loud about all the places they would want to see, he warmed to the idea and they did just that. They travelled to every continent - they went to base camp at Everest, visited the Taj Mahal, saw the statues on Easter Island, swam along the Great Barrier Reef, walked the Great Wall of China, ate gelato on the Spanish Steps, watched people run with the bulls in Pamploma and he proposed to her all over again at the foot of the Eiffel Tower. The children had flown out at different times to meet them and it had been an idyllic year. He was extraordinary grateful for every one of those memories.

He flipped the last page and reached for a pen. "Just one last one," he told her.

Love each other forever.

Patrick drew a line through it and smiled a watery smile "I do," he said quietly. "I love you forever. I know you're here with me now and always and some day we will be reunited again. Until then.....look out for me," he asked. "Look out for all of us."

He dug a small hole next to the marble marker and folding the list placed it inside the hole before covering it with dirt. He kissed her name etched in the marble.

"I love you. I miss you. Happy Birthday Robin."

Rising to his feet, he brushed the dirt from his pants and took one last look at the stone in the ground before heading back to the house where his family and his friends were waiting to welcome him with open arms. Before Robin, he had spent a long time running from love but she had taught him to run towards it and embrace it. Everything he needed, including her, was in his heart.

FIN