Trigger Warning: General discussion of 'dangerous thoughts' (Suicidal Ideation/Suicidal Thoughts) and implications of Su*c*de and S**f H**m, Patrick is genuinely concerned and I believe this to be as minimally triggering as possible.

Author's Note #1: I chose the terminology of 'dangerous thoughts' in hopes that it would be easier for more people to read, it leaves the implication in place for what I would like to write, but creates makes it more appropriate for a wider audience. Please, if you are struggling- reach out to the resources that are always after the most current chapter. I've tried to write Patrick to be understanding and caring once he realizes what Shelagh has endured silently.

*I'd like to note that I'm okay, just buried under uni work at the moment!*

As Patrick parked his beloved MG in front of the flat, he wondered how Shelagh was faring. Had he made the right decision to leave Shelagh at home with Sister Julienne, or should he have taken her to the chemist with him? His head spun with anxiety, as he finally made his way to the flat door and fished the key out of his pocket to unlock the door.
Out of instinct, after years of late-night calls- especially with a newborn or young Timothy around, Patrick stopped to listen as he opened the flat door and stepped in. He froze in his tracks as he overheard a conversation likely was meant to be kept between Shelagh and Sister Julienne.
"Shelagh, you must allow yourself to grieve. Your grief is bubbling to the surface and begging to come out."
"Oh, Sister it.. it feels as though I'm behind glass or in a box. I'm afraid to move; I don't want it to shatter."
It was then that Shelagh fell sobbing into Sister Julienne's arms.
Patrick had never felt so helpless in his entire career as a GP, or his time as a husband. It was then that he entirely shut the door of the flat, having closed it enough to prevent a chill from entering the flat as he overheard the conversation between Shelagh and Sister Julienne.
After several minutes, the sobs emerging from the sitting room lessened and then ceased.
"Did you overhear our conversation ."
"Yes, Sister, I-I probably shouldn't have. She wanted only you to know that."
"I wouldn't say that she's so fearful of telling you how poorly she truly is because she doesn't want you to pity her."
"Oh, Sister."
"I would have told you, but I think it is important that you know she admits to having dangerous thoughts and being incredibly anxious."
"The latter I had noticed sister, but I had no idea about her thoughts. I should telephone the psychologist we saw the other day, who prescribed her medication."
"Shelagh is afraid that she will end up in the Linchmere if she told you how poorly she is."
"Sister, do you think a visit from Timothy and Angela, or a phone call would help?"
"It might if anything, help her anxiety calm down. I believe that she can't stomach the thought of losing everything, and being alone again."
"Like the time she spent at Saint Anne's?"
"Yes."
"Timothy is supposed to call after school today, and I've got Shelagh's medication. Is she awake, Sister?"
"Yes, she wanted a moment or two alone, though. I'll see if she's ready."
It felt like hours between the time that Sister Julienne reentered the sitting room, and the time he saw her nod that Shelagh was ready.
"Patrick, you came back? You're here?"
"Shelagh, I went to the chemist to fetch your medication."
"Y-you did? It feels like days since you were here."
"I've only been gone for half nine."
Before Patrick could respond, Shelagh flings herself into his arms.
"It's alright, Shelagh. I'm here now, and I won't leave unless you know where I'm going."
"Okay," Shelagh whispered into his ear.
"Shelagh, can we speak about what you told Sister Julienne?"
"I'm sorry, I should have told you, I just couldn't," Shelagh sobbed.
"It's alright, Shelagh. If you feel you can't tell me, but you feel that you could tell Sister Julienne, that option is always available. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Shelagh, how dangerous have your thoughts been? Have you thought about it…" Patrick couldn't bring himself to say what he needed to.
"No. No. Not that dangerous."
"Have you thought about or attempted to harm yourself?
"Y-yes." Shelagh's voice broke "I've wanted to hurt myself for several weeks… I don't know how I haven't yet."
"Oh, Shelagh," Patrick replied as he pulled her into a hug, allowing her to sob for everything that had happened that morning.
As her tears quieted down to silent trails on her tears, Patrick wanted Shelagh to know that she would feel better eventually.
"Shelagh, I promise I will always be a safe ear for you, even if I won't always be home with you. If I'm not home and you have these thoughts, will you please talk to Sister Julienne?"
"Yes."
"Would you like to say goodbye to Sister Julienne?"
"Yes."
Patrick left his wife and her beloved former superior to say their goodbyes in privacy as he took Shelagh's medication into the Kitchen. He had to find a place that he would remember so that he could give it to Shelagh twice per day as the instructions dictated, but also that Shelagh wouldn't find it and overdose if a dangerous thought overtook her and she attempted to act on it.
Patrick didn't want to think about Shelagh potentially not being by his side, and he knew that Shelagh wouldn't do it with her conscious, rational thinking brain, but the clouded thoughts and ill mind would force her to do. Finally, he found a place in a cabinet he used frequently but had never known Shelagh to use and secured her medication in it.

"Shelagh, are you ready for lunch? We could have a short outing to the cafe a few streets over?" Patrick asked as he reentered the sitting room."
"Please don't make me leave the flat. Patrick, I'm so scared of going out."
" it's alright, Shelagh, how about we get some fish and chips? A short outing to the van and you don't even need to leave the car. How about that? Are you willing to come with me?"
Shelagh thought for a moment. It wasn't precisely the compromise she wanted, but it would do.
" Okay," she answered meekly.
This time, when Shelagh went to eat her fish and chips, with her husband settled next to her on their beloved settee, she managed a few more chips and even a bit of the fish before she felt unable to eat more.
As Patrick and Shelagh finished their lunch, the phone in the hallway began to ring.

Author's Note #2: The title is taken from the song "Away from the Roll of the Sea"- check out the choir (choral) version, it's really good!