On 1 September, Kate was in the park alone seated on a swing. Even though there were people walking, exercising their dogs, strolling hand in hand or pushing strollers about the park, she was in the loneliest place she had ever found herself.

In despair at the world, she tilted her head back to stare at the clear late afternoon sky. Her heart ached, her throat burned and her eyes stung with the tears that had finally spilt from her eyes down her cheeks. She cried in helplessness, loss of control, dread and fear. Nothing about it was fair. How abruptly her future had been taken away.

She blinked away the tears and swallowed. Her spooked hazel eyes lowered to a bare tree, to the dead leaves that had fallen to the ground around it.

As a child, Kate had relished playing in the leaves. She remembered the times she had rolled in them or had thrown them in the air. Her mother had laughed at her childish adventures, had taken photographs of her every autumn buried in the dead leaves, her youthful face beaming at the camera full of happiness and life. The leaves of fall had been an important part of her childhood until today when they symbolised the termination of a cycle of birth, growth, degeneration and death. She closed her eyes and with some reluctance drifted back to the difficult moments in the doctor's office to deal with what she hadn't been able to earlier.

The doctor had maintained eye contact as he carefully spoke words never made easier with the many times he repeated them to the solemn faces that sat in the chair Kate had sat on. "Kate, I'm sorry, you have cancer."

Kate silently gazed at the doctor. There was a mole beneath his left eye she focussed on and it seemed to grow larger and more prominent the longer she stared. Her mind was vacuumed of any logical thoughts. The weight of a brick had settled in the pit of her stomach and an ice cold rush shot to her hands and feet. The overwhelming urge to use the bathroom and to vomit had shot her back to reality. She instinctively flexed her fingers to alleviate the sudden clamminess. She cleared her constrained throat.

She shakily murmured, "I'm sorry but would you please repeat that?"

Kate was a survivor having scraped death's door with work injuries and a car accident. This appointment was supposed to bring her news that everything was perfectly right, that her body was as healthy and energetic as it appeared to be from the outside. She was only tired because she had been working too hard. She was only tired. The doctor's words didn't make sense. She felt her body begin to quiver when she heard him repeat.

"Kate, you have cancer. Is there anyone you can call for support? You should have someone here with you. Can I call you someone?"

Kate waved it off, "No. No. I need to think this out." She stood, stepped forward to shake the doctor's hand and asked if she could leave. The doctor said something about taking a referral and she accepted the paper she haphazardly shoved inside her bag. She almost ran from the clinic, angered by what he'd said to her. The news had devastated and changed her life forever.

An hour or so later, she swung the swing slowly back and forth without a thought of what she did. The word cancer chorused in her consciousness.

Cancer, cancer, you have cancer.

"I was only tired." She whispered to the voice in her head.

She absently stared at nothing. What had happened? Cancer?

As her eyes wandered the expanse of the park, it occurred she didn't remember leaving the clinic or arriving at their park. What day or time it was for that matter was beyond her abilities to recall.

She couldn't have cancer and didn't have time for it. She had too much work. There wasn't enough leave. Cancer wasn't going to fit in her life plan. It occurred to her she didn't have a choice in the situation. But she wasn't going to succumb to it because her life was just beginning.

Kate fought to make sense of how she had it at her age. None of it made sense.

Her Dad. She had to out live her father. She, as his only off spring couldn't die before him. Who would stop him from drinking again? She needed to make sure Castle was ok. That he would be ok without her. He would have to give Nikki Heat and Jamison Rook and better ending.

How long? How long did she have?

She didn't know.

The afternoon was chilly. She huddled her body as she stared over the park. It was nearing twilight and people were leaving the park.

Over time, acceptance slowly came. Her mind calmed.

No, I'm not ready for cancer.

"Whoever is?" Kate asked loud squinting into later afternoon the sun, feeling its warmth.

Apart from processing the news she had been given, the only images Kate's mind circled were of him. Every thought every aspect of her life was shared with him. Their first kiss, first time they made love, their first trip, their first Christmas and their first real fight. They had finally found each other and she had to face reality that she might miss growing old with him. She shut her eyes to imagine his face, his bright blue eyes and shapely lips. She longed to comb her fingers through his brown hair. He made sense. He earthed her.

"Kate!"

Her eyes flew open. She searched where his voice had come from. She saw him. He jogged over the grass to her.

Breathing hard he stopped, only a few feet separating them. He looked over her, around their environment, then back to her eyes. He was worried. "Where have you been? I've tried your phone, but you didn't pick up."

Kate's breathing quickened. He'd found her at their place. It was time to tell him. She stood up, gripping the chain of the swing.

"What's wrong? Where have you been?" He stepped closer and his hand lifted to the side of her head as he leaned in to kiss her, "You've been crying and you're here." He glanced to the swings.

Kate wrapped her arms about him as he stepped closer to firmly embrace her. He held her there, stroking her hair back.

"Tell me, Honey. What worries you?"

Kate pulled back and glanced between his eyes and mouth, touched his shirt collar, "I just came from the doctors."

"Are you ok?"

She took a breath looked in his eyes, "I have cancer, Rick."

For several seconds he processed the news, then drew her back to his body, "We will get through this together. You are strong and brave."

"I don't feel brave."

He held her head and looked deep into her eyes, "You are. You still have so much to offer the world. You will survive. You deserve to exist," he murmured and kissed her forehead, "Hope. We have hope."

"I want to live," she whispered.

"You will live. You are my muse. You will be with me forever. We will get through this."