Author's Note:This idea came to me tonight. My dad has bipolar disorder, and I wanted to write a ficlet from Patrick's perspective. The matron's comment seemed to be the jumping off point for Patrick, so that is where I started. I hope you enjoyed reading this!

"Cancer… the beast is named"

Patrick found himself pondering this thought many times after he left Chummy's house. Her mother was facing her problem head on- choosing to confront it and call it by name. It was a startling approach and it was one that Patrick couldn't remember seeing.

Depression…It was what the doctors had diagnosed him with after the war. They said it was the shock of seeing so many deaths that had stolen the joy out of his life. He had entered the war eager to show what he could do as a medical corp and had left as a lost puppy.

Patrick sat in his car and remembered last year when Timothy had told him that his mother said he was like a lost puppy after his first wife's death. The comment had come on a wet day soon after Sister's Burnadette's TB diagnosis. He had distracted his son with food, but the thought remained. He had written to her before and had not heard anything, but he chose that day to fight for her. He knew now he needed her optimistic light and loving spirit in his life. She was a joy to be around and life was better with her in it. He wasn't sure when he had fallen for the nun, but he had and hard.

The depression had receded from his mind once he began to court Shelagh. It was out of his mind completely when he proposed. He saw no reason to bring up his sordid past- he had told her had served in the war, but nothing more. They had stayed side by side during Timothy's illness and it was her hope that kept him sane. The wedding followed and life was blissful…

Not all our dreams…. Patrick found himself receding back to the lines of depression once the diagnosis had been issued. Shelagh would never be able to carry a child. It was what caused him to smoke more, he mused. He would smoke a cigarette in order to not think of the sad thoughts. Alec's death could have done him in- if it wasn't for his lovely Shelagh. Her quiet strength and character had pulled him through. She showed her love for him in those days by just being there… waiting and listening to him.

Adoption…. It had seemed perfect when Shelagh had announced it. But then… the background check. Fear had grabbed him, and he found himself unable to cope with it. He kept trying to discourage Shelagh from going through with the process… or at least change offices, but she stubbornly refused. At the interview, everything had come out. Patrick was forced to deal with it- he, Poplar's doctor- who found a way to treat everyone, had something that couldn't be fixed. The patient on the bridge had awoken him to the dark side of depression, but he still couldn't talk to his wife about it.

And now, Shelagh, his precious Shelagh and he weren't speaking. They would speak only when necessary. Timothy had noticed and had become a go-between for them. It would have gone on forever if it wasn't for a piece of paper.

The letter Shelagh mentioned that they did not have a happy home and that thought had sent his mind a trailing. The adoption agency had enough hope in them, but apparently neither one of them had any in each other.

Death Chummy's mom had spoken the truth he needed to hear. He would push forward. If a woman dieing from cancer could push forward in life, so could he. He would find the words to apologize to his wife. They would begin anew, and it would be better than before. It would begin tonight and it would keep going- pushing them into the future as adoptive parents. Patrick pulled in and parked the car. He grabbed his keys and headed inside- knowing that the upcoming conversation was needed and must be said. It would serve as a catalyst, a jumping board, for them to begin again. . Each day he would find a way- whether a compliment, an unexpected kiss, a dance, anything- to show his love for his wife. She was a gift, a gift that was meant to be cherished- not thrown aside. And when the baby arrived at their home, he hoped, it would be in the happy home Shelagh had imagined theirs would be.