Off the Carousel

Take it on Faith

A/N: Thanks for reading!

Enjoy!

Carolyn straightened her Navy cap over her carefully styled hair and ran her hands down her sides to straighten the wrinkles in her uniform. Behind her, the bus pulled away, leaving a cloud of dust in her path.

She picked up her suitcase. No one greeted her at the bus stop, because she actually arrived a week earlier than her letter had said. She supposed she could've called, but- she had news. Very unexpected news, and she didn't know... she couldn't bring herself to pick up the phone.

The walk to Michael's house was long and uncomfortable, but she bared it. She'd been away for two years, but nothing had changed, not really. They would be getting married this summer. That was the plan.

But she had news... and plans might change.

She stopped at the iron gate, bent her knees slightly and placed her suitcase down. Her gloved fingers traced the iron wrought bars before she pushed the gate open. Her stomach fluttered with nerves, but she calmed herself.

This was news, but it wasn't necessarily bad news.

Four steps into the front yard of the Shepherd's house, and Carolyn stopped suddenly, feeling like she'd been punched in the gut.

Michael was sitting on the porch steps, and a woman her own age was clutching his hand, speaking to him in soft reverent tones.

When he saw her, he turned pale in shock. "Care-" he started, standing up.

She felt like the world was spinning too fast on its axis. She couldn't look at him. She looked instead at the woman. "Hello," she said abruptly. "I'm Carolyn, Michael's fiance." She held out her hand, "and you are-?"

The woman stood up, brushing her hands on her jeans, clearly understanding the situation. She reached out and gripped Carolyn's hand warmly. "Hi," she said, "I'm Liz Merriwick, Mike's cousin. I'm just here for the funeral, my Grandmother knew Phyllis, they grew up together."

Cousin? Funeral? What?

Maybe it was just the morning sickness, or maybe not, but she felt sick to her stomach.

xxx

Meredith wiped her mouth and panted. This was so not the time to freak.

"Are you all right?" Carolyn asked, gently touching Meredith's elbow.

She looked up at her mother in law, still reeling from the fact that she was here right in front of her of all places. "Fine." The word slipped out, her go-to word. What else was she to say?

"Drink this."

A bottle of water somehow ended up in her hands and she rinsed out her mouth and took a couple swallows before handing it back. "I'm fine," she said again.

Carolyn raised an eyebrow. "Clearly," she said.

Meredith pushed past the woman. She couldn't look at her. It made her think too much about Derek's funeral and she refused to feel sad right now. "Where's the patient?" she asked, marching along the roadside.

There he was, wrapped carefully in a grey emergency blanket. It was Dr. Radford, Sam. Propped up in the common recovery position. In doctor mode, she immediately began asessing him. Airway, breathing, circulation... his pulse was a little high, his breaths a little too shallow. His skin was clammy.

"He collapsed, and then suffered a grand mal siezure..." Carolyn said, crouching down beside her. "He was lucid before. He helped me with the driver."

Meredith only nodded. She pushed up his eyelids, flashing her penlight into each eye. It was actually Derek's penlight. A random gift she'd given him a year ago, before things between them got...