I don't own the characters or the show. This is a work of fiction because I love the show and I love these characters and their relationship together. I really hope there is going to be a second season, because I'd love to see what happens for Carson and Greta, and the rest of our Peachy friends...

The warmth that filled Carson Shaw from the tips or her toes to the top of her head vanished in the blink of an eye. One minute she was pressing Greta Gill against the shadowed side of their Rockford Peach home as a fierce blue flame worked through her body, the next she was staring wide eyed and fearful at her husband. The icy surge in her veins spiking her heart as she met his eyes and his wide-mouthed utterances. Oh. Shit. Oh Fucking Shit.

"Wh. What. What was that Carson?" Charlie asked inquiringly as the bouquet of colorful flowers he'd been holding fall from his right hand. His jaw is practically unhinged as he struggles to gain comprehension of what he's just seen.

Carson stands in silence, not knowing what to say or do. What HAD he just seen? She hears the sound of a taxicab driving off and down the street behind her. Tears well quickly in her eyes. She is so angry at the injustice of it all. She hadn't had time to decide what was next, and she certainly didn't have the words to explain to Charlie any of it. Charlie. Her best friend, her husband. Ex-husband? What were they now?

Charlie starts in again, not accepting the silence, "Carson I asked you a ques…" suddenly the color leaves his face and his now empty hand clutches his chest, his face contorts into a look of pain as he collapses to the blue patio floor.

The waiting room at the hospital is a colorless slate of sterile white with doctors and nurses bustling across the lobby. Carson is seated in a corner trying to think, trying not to think, trying to just catch her breath. Once they'd made it to the hospital the white coats had descended down on Charlie and his khaki army uniform. Why hadn't Charlie just listened and waited at home in Idaho? He said he'd go, and why didn't he, or did he go and come back? If he'd been here why hadn't he been at the last game? Why did he have to show up like that, and just how much had he seen? She kept circling back to their last night together when he asked what he had done to make her want him to leave. She didn't deserve him. He loved her deeply, she knew it. Is that why he'd returned trying to be romantic, to surprise her?

Was he afraid she'd run away like her mother? He'd already accused her of that in the hotel when they fought about him having read her letter. What was she going to do? There were so many options, so many possibilities. So much of that depended on whether Charlie survived this, whatever it was. He'd only just been released from Dublin from being hospitalized with effort syndrome. She couldn't begin to guess what was happening back there with the doctors. Couldn't begin to figure out what to do.

Whatever happened, she did this to him. It was her fault. If she hadn't pursued Greta, God Greta… Greta with those soft cherry red lips. She'd just been kissing those lips hours earlier, and a part of her wished she could be a bit like her mother and run away from it all. Gretas smirk, Gretas perfume, Gretas soft red curled hair entwined within her fingers. From the moment she met her, Greta has been irresistible.

She contemplates asking a nurse to get her an update on Charlies condition, but she wants the time to think. She tries to picture what her future could be. What she wants it to be. It's like a pick your own chapter book, and she just wants to start from the back and work her way forwards. There's danger with Greta, but also a feeling like holding on to a livewire, a feeling of being alive. With Charlie there's safety, both from questioning friends and family, and from the expectations life has easily laid down before her. It's not like she doesn't love Charlie, she loves him in her own way, from familiarity and from the knowledge that at heart, he is a good man.

Thankfully her teammates had condescended to her request that they get on with packing up and going home, her promises to call and give them an update assuaging their concerns. Carson's mind is running at a breakneck speed as her mind seesaws between Charlie and Greta. Greta and Charlie. Greta represents adventure, new beginnings, and so much excitement. Charlie has been her best friend since they were both were little. He's been there to see her grow, and he's been her husband for seven years. Her fingers fiddle relentlessly with the ring she'd only recently slipped back onto her finger.

A man a few chairs down proffers a smoke and it snaps her out of her trance. "You looked like you could use it."

"No, but thanks. Thanks anyways. I'm just… A little lost at the moment".

The man nods at her with a small smile, "Well you're in Rockford Illinois, at the hospital off Clairbourne".

Carson gives a polite smile, "Thanks". She looks back away, her leg bouncing with anxiety. It's hard to get back to thinking because she's feels obligated to talk with the stranger, who was so friendly with her. She's indecisive and getting ready to offer a small comment back explaining she didn't mean lost physically, so much as internally when a doctor walks out to the waiting room, "Mrs. Shaw? Mrs. Carson Shaw?"

It takes her a moment to realize she's being called, she stands up and makes her way to the edge of the waiting room. Her feet feel like lead. Whatever the doctor says, it's going to change her life forever.

Charlie is laying in a quiet room down a maze of hallways. Sheets are pulled up, just under his chin. Standing in the doorway, Carson breathes slowly. She knows walking into the room is going to be one of the hardest things she'll do, but she does it.

The doctors had conveyed the news as best they could. She didn't have much of a mind for medical speak, but she understood enough. The stress he'd been under during the last few months of the war, and the sudden shock he'd suffered (though the doctors had merely chocked that up to being so excited to be reunited with his wife), had given him a heart attack. A real one this time. What he needed, was rest and comfort from his wife back home in Idaho. There'd be no more tours of action for him. He was going to be medically discharged. And if she didn't stick with him, he'd have nothing. Nothing but heart break. And who knew how that would impact his recovery?

Charlie is snoring lightly as Carson feels the tears slide slowly down her face and takes his hand.