A/N: I decided to do a complete rewrite on this sequel to Recovery and therefore scrapped the earlier version of the story and replaced it with this instead. I appreciate all the support I got on the original story but after not updating it for so long decided that maybe it was best to start over instead of being stuck. I hope for those who remember the earlier story think that this is a worthy replacement. Thank you all for reading.


Maria's arms were beginning to turn blue from the lack of circulation, going numb from the pressure of wirings digging into her wrists. The inflictions were so deep now that the wiring was turning red from her blood. She couldn't feel the searing pain anymore; Maria had emotionally shut down to the point that she no longer spent time wondering if anyone was looking for her anymore. Before she had thought that perhaps people would notice the mail piling up outside her door, that the excuses she had been made to give to Audrey about missing work might be questioned by those who knew her most. But now she couldn't let mind be in any other place but that her bedroom. He had taken over her whole world and Maria sensed that ever since she had met him in the Rovers that night and he had introduced himself as Benjamin Lawrence, spent months offering emotional support after little Liam's death and then romancing her… that this situation now; holding her captive… that this is what he had been building up to all along, that this was what he had always intended…to kill her. For days she cried asking him why. He told her this, that his actions would be seen to some as revenge, and to others it would be vengeance, but to him it was all about avenging someone, someone named Louise.

"Those three things aren't as interchangeable as people think Maria. They overlap—a simple concept of payback for injury—but to me they never quite meet. They come from different places from within ones own self. Revenge is selfish in nature all about oneself , whereas vengeance is more positive. It's about justice and on behalf of others more so than not. I want that be my legacy, for people to know it was all completely about Louise's honour, but I'll share a little secret with you Maria…my motives with you specifically are purely of the avenging sort. I'm not hurting you in vindication for Louise or payback against Carla. I am hurting you because I can, because it is what needs to be done to put Tony away forever. It is for myself as much as it is for others…"

Maria was just a means to an end. The end in Frank's crazy mind seemed to be the only way to his own redemption and a sacrifice for the mistakes of others.

He smirked leaning over her at the edge of the bed and adjusting the duct tape wrapped securely around her ankles and knees. The look in his eyes was one of pure evil. It was frightening because those same attractive features that once made her stomach jump with butterflies were the same ones now making every inch of her skin crawl. Frank began touching her, trailing his hands along the length of Maria's body, taunting and torturing her as he liked to with his games. He was evil, the devil walking amongst them all, psychologically, physically, and sexually violating her every moment of the day. Usually she could contain her flinching, and try and not give any reactions but in this moment she sensed the something big was about to happen and that his games with her may soon be ending.

"What do you think?" he said addressing Maria knowing full well she could not talk with duct tape plastered across her mouth, "Think I've done a nifty job with the all the knots and tape today Maria?"

Maria squeezed her eyes shut as he walked towards her stopping right in front of her face and caressing her bruised and battered face with his now ruff hands. She wanted him to get this over with and was preparing to physically remove herself from the situation and go numb. This was the only way to survive.

"No, no, Maria," he scolded, "You open your eyes and look at me you stupid bitch or I'll burn you again like I did last night. Do you get me?" his voice was sickeningly sweet and eerily gentle as he said this.

Maria opened her eyes staring right into those cold brown ones almost black, devoid of any feeling.

"There she is," he whispered touching all the tender parts of swollen and bruised face, "look at those big beautiful blue eyes…come on and give me a nice smile," pausing his eyes lingered over the duct tape, "Oh that's right…silly me, the duct tape."

Maria wanted to cry. She felt his hands wrapping around her and arranging her on the bed. She just hoped he did not go for the cigarettes again.

"You're so beautiful," he said with a look of nostalgia marred across his features thinking of a happier time, "I think you and I need to go on a trip...you loved our mini breaks," he mocked, " You see Audrey must be getting worried about you; Barry Connor too, and who could forget that insufferable detective Crawford. He still thinks you murdered your son. I'm surprised he hasn't come knocking this week."

Maria began to break down at the mention of little Liam. Only recently had he confessed to cutting her breaks and causing the accident that killed Liam and basically made Michelle unable to remember things and suffer from amnesia. He was the reason she had lost her family. Now all Maria wanted to do was die and join her son in heaven. He was going to kill her anyways…this was the change she had sensed tonight.

Pulling out a blindfold Frank proceeded to lift up Maria's trembling and squirming body, covering her eyes as mused on and on like they were having a normal conversation, "You know what they always say, all the experts—'never let the perpetrator take you that second location. That second location means death'—well darling I'm sorry to say you don't really have a choice tonight."

He had keep Maria captive for four days in her house but now Frank was moving her to a location where he would have more control, where she be the greater focus of attention for his crime, where she would be isolated enough that no one would ever hear her screams.

That second location means death…

So this would be the end of her path, this path he claimed was all about avenging his sister. Maria just wondered when it would all end and she hoped for her sake it would all end quickly.

Maria just realized that today was the five month anniversary of her son's death.


Liam Connor

February 25, 1974-October 17, 2008

Michelle's brown eyes were in a trance staring at that ground at the withering away roses. The only thought in her head was of who must have put them there. Every time she visited there seemed to be a new bash. These were trivial manners a distraction from her own almost empty thoughts inside. She knew she was supposed to feel something, to have some sort of emotion towards the person whose name now engraved on that tombstone and yet she felt nothing, nothing but indifference. She did not remember this particular brother; she did not remember any of her brothers anymore, apparently she had been one apart of a group of three. Everything about her family life had been erased since her accident.

Michelle wished people had told her about these things, about this family. She felt more isolated than ever before when she saw her parents crying She knew why they were crying but she wished she could remember why, remember all the events and memories they often roamed over on the daily.

Tonight she had come here alone in attempts of trying to jog her memory. Pictures didn't seem to help and going to the home where she supposedly grew up in made things more bothersome and pressure filled.

That detective Crawford had come by tonight, it was thankful interruption from the awkward dinner she was having with her son Ryan and parents. They said they were finally about ready to make an arrest in the murder of her nephew Liam. Maria her dead brothers wife was the suspect. Unfortunately Michelle's parents said they hadn't seen her in four days. Something just didn't right with Michelle. She didn't remember Maria much from before the accident but she was starting to get to know her again and just couldn't think, and no matter how much Helen wanted to claim otherwise, that Maria had any real part in causing the car brakes to fail that night. She came to this grave because it was the only thing giving her some form of peace in all the jumbled mess that was her mind.

"I just want to remember…" Michelle whispered, " I wish I could remember." Michelle heart was then filled with anguish and anger.

She might have survived that night and still had a lease on life. But the quality of life had completely changed for the worse. There were many ways to kill a man and natural death was only one. She had lost her life, what remained of her was a shell, nothing similar to her former self. Her parents were strange around her; the whole street of which she had made her home treated her with kid gloves. She heard Ryan crying every night and she knew it was because of her and her inability to open up to her own son. Now all she wanted was retribution. She wanted to find the people really responsible for the accident and in her heart of hearts her instinct told Michelle it was not Maria.

Glancing back at the tombstone, Michelle's eyes fell on an ornamental angel. She had never really been a religious person and didn't like to look to God to tell her what path she be on in life. But all of the sudden it was like the angel had triggered a path in her mind loud and clear.

"Vengeance is mine; I will repay,' says the Lord."

It was the verse in Romans 12:19 emphasizing justice and taking it out of the injured persons hands placing it in that of the Lords. She only knew it so well since her mother insisted on divine intervention and in sit-downs with the family priest who wanted to tame the murder in Michelle's eyes. As far as Michelle was concerned vengeance was now hers to partake in regardless of what others thought even God. She would track down the real person responsible and she would make them suffer, destroying everything and everyone they ever loved…she would return the favour and reduce their quality of life. This was the only way to redemption, the only way to seek comfort at the loss of her memories. One day she would remember...

"I wish I could remember," she said for a third time now wondering where to start in looking for the perpetrator responsible for all this pain.

"And you can," a voice boomed from behind her.

Turning around, Michelle saw a blonde woman clutching a red rose in her hand like the one's Liam's grave. She was dressed impeccably so and with an air of confidence as her blue eyes gleamed staring Michelle up and down.

"Do I know you?" Michelle could barely register her surroundings much less this encounter.

"No…" the woman said walking forward, "I was actually a good friend of a family member of yours...your brother Paul's wife. She told me a lot about your brother Liam," she nodded at Liam's tombstone, bending down to place the rose on top of the grave, "He seemed like a good man...very passionate. "

Michelle didn't know what to say other than the usual, "I wish I could remember all these things about him—"

"—You can," smirking at Michelle she held out her hand, "I'm Dr. Harrington. I am psychiatrist but I also dabble in a lot of hypnosis techniques outside of medication and traditional forms of therapy. I can help you remember all you need. I can help you remember who did this. I can help you on the right path to recovery."

"I have no use for recovery," Michelle blurted out, her eyes burning through Liam's tombstone, "The only thing that interests me is revenge."

"Vengeance you mean," muses the Doctor, "You have every right to your feelings over this accident. There is nothing selfish in your motives and they are not for you alone. I remember my friend said you had a son?"

"…Ryan," Michelle whispered it was strange to think that a big her life had been dedicated to motherhood yet she could recall any of these motherly moments. Ryan's cries echoed in her ears again, "His name is Ryan."

"Ryan…well let him be the driving force on this path ahead. Let him be the thing that makes you want to remember again and punish those who robbed you of this. Let him be the source of your vengeance."

Michelle said nothing but inside she agreed. Noting to herself as she looked up at the moon and the stars...she had been driving under those same stars that night. It had been five months to the day since the accident.


Carla was in dimly lit room, running her hands under a tap of hot scalding water. Glancing up in the mirror she did not recognize the woman staring back at her. She had gone in completely different path from the one that had been forged for her all those years ago. Now she was on a new road…the path less traveled. And she walked it blindly and proudly, letting it lead her into a road of oblivion. Her features had been hardened completely, her looks maybe even fading to some extent, but all these changes were worth it, a sign that she had lived to see another day. Her looks now accurately reflected back all that was going on inside.

"What would be the one thing you'd want to say to Liam if you saw him again?"

"I died the day you left…I haven't been back since."

It didn't make sense for Carla to ever return to the Street to live permanently . That part of her life was a mere memory. She had a new life now. The Factory no longer was of interest to Carla. Cocking her head to the side, her eyes fell on and observed the big black duffle bag sitting on the bed of this dingy motel room. Wiping her hands in a rag, Carla herself was sporting all black workout gear and was hot to the touch. Her weights were in the corner and her boxing gloves strewn about the floor. Unzipping the duffle bag, Carla did a quick inventory on her weapons…

"That's the beauty of it Carla…you just never know what Liam you're going to get."

She was still being haunted by these strange nightmares about Liam and always in familiar situations but never the way she remembered him. There was something sinister about him, something evil. Crawford had explained everything though, what Tony's intent was and how she had to train her mind to combat him.

You still haven't figured it out darling," said Crawford in his mocking condescending tone, "You still haven't figured out what were doing here?"

"You said that I'd never know which Liam I was going to get. Well the Liam I got twice now is the Liam I remember, the Liam that I loved. I've only ever dreamed of the other one, the evil one once. He crept into a real memory of mine from child hood-you put him there didn't you?"

"Took you long enough."

"Why would you do something like that? What's wrong with you?"

"You want to know why I am doing this right? It is simple; Tony Gordon wants to be acquitted in the murder of Liam Connor. He figures that a major way to clear all charges is to get your testimony from the last trial thrown out the window. And he can only hope to accomplish this by having you discredited in the eyes of the legal system. Now how do you suppose Tony would go about doing that?"

"He'd kill me," said Carla.

"Tony's more calculated. For now he wants the courts to view you as mentally unstable. In fact he cooked a little scheme where he hired a certain, Doctor Katherine Harrington to do the job."

Carla she remembered then how the Doctor always seemed like she was trying to provoke Carla, get her into a state of rage during there sessions. Carla had thought before that it was all in her own head.

"Katherine Harrington was supposed to provide a file with all the details pertaining to your instability; which were then to be used in court. She was to listen to your sad and tragic sessions about Liam and Paul and twist them around you. You see Tony was obsessed with claiming that you had Borderline Personality Disorder and therefore prone to mood swings, impulsivity, and destructive behaviour."

Tony had been right about one thing, pulling her crossbow out from under a pile of guns and other accessories, Carla grinned looking at her favourite weapon; she was indeed destructive but only against the scum that was Tony Gordon and his pathetic lover Katherine Harrington. He was a sociopath and she refused to let him take anything more away from her.

What's the most real thing you have ever known?"

"Liam…"

He was the most real thing Carla had ever felt. Her feelings for him had always been so strong. If her love for him wasn't real she didn't know what was. As Crawford explained, Tony hated the fact that she loved Liam. In his own twisted world Tony apparently still harboured strong feelings for her.

"In his own twisted little mind he still loves you Carla and he can't stand the fact that you will always love Liam Connor. So what else is there to do but try and destroy the one thing that you knew to be real? He made it his vow, he would take those memories, those feelings that you have clung onto and distort them so much that you would begin to question them, doubt them and then with that pinch of doubt, he would destroy them until you have nothing left. He would make what he wants the jury to perceive of you become the reality."

"He wants to destroy my love for Liam. To plant the seeds of doubt," said slowly, "He can't. I won't let him."

" And he won't because we'll be sure to get enough practice and use his little plan against him."

It was time. Looking at her mobile, the clock ticked 11:45 pm sharp and was accompanied with it a knock, as she expected, he was right on time. At that moment she had been clutching her crossbow still and gently set it down, walking past the bed on the way to the door. Her eyes passed over pictures she had laid out of Paul and Liam…they were her motivation.

Opening the door, she stared into those familiar grey eyes of Crawford and it was strange that she actually felt glad to see the old man. Letting there eyes communicate back and forth silently for a moment, Carla finally stepped aside letting him in. His eyes roamed over the motel room with great curiosity, taking in the maps and newspaper articles tapped on every wall relating to her target in question. Strangely though this was not what he chose to comment on.

"Been working out a lot recently?" he said observing the ripped open boxing bag. Carla had torn it to shreds earlier with her anger.

"Yes—" Carla was proud of her new strength and was confident she could take on Tony if it came to a physical attack between the two.

"—A bit excessive don't you think?"

"When the devil is your enemy nothing is excessive," Carla said stomping over to her duffle bag and pushing her crossbow back in with her firearms.

"Careful now," Crawford had gone from being an enemy to a mentor in these short five months, "When you dance with the devil, the devil doesn't change. The devil changes you."

"I thought that this is what we both wanted?" Carla said getting agitated, "I thought this was what I was training for?"

"I don't think you're ready," he was now glancing at the photos of Liam and Paul, flipping each with a judging look on his face.

Carla knew Crawford thought her to be weak and emotional at times. But no way in hell was she letting him delay this task of vengeance any further, " Every single time I look at pictures of them—of Liam—I feel like I'm gonna break. I'm not going to give Tony the satisfaction anymore."

"What's the plan then warrior girl? The ball is in your court."

"When he comes for me, I want to be ready…that's what I've always said. But I don't want to give him that power anymore. I will come for him instead. Take me back to the Street," Carla was ready to go back to Coronation Street and finish this thing with Tony once and for all.

A grin formed on Crawford's stoic face, it was the rear look of proudness, "Alright then. I do it for you because really you need to do it for yourself and so that he won't hurt any others."

Exactly," Carla murmured. She felt as those she had arrived at a monumental moment in her life. A moment of changing waters where she would finally take the reigns and would no longer be a victim but a survivor. Glancing at the photos of Liam and Paul tears welled in her eyes. They would be proud of how far she had come and how strong she had gotten. It was the path less travelled by a lot of people that had endures as much as she had, but it was the right path after all. The path for her, "…a fitting end to a path of revenge," Carla whispered looking into her mentor's eyes. They had a twinkle to them.

"No… you've finally realized that this something you just need to do. It isn't just about you anymore. He's harmed everyone you ever loved and now you're coming back, never beaten and on the path to justice. It's a fitting end to your path of vengeance."

Carla said nothing. Instead she thought about little Liam. She could not protect him from Tony's wrath that night but she sure as hell was going to protect his memory and all her memories of those she loved. Tony Gordon would not take her experiences away from her. Glancing down at her mobile, Carla swung her duffle bag over her shoulder. The clock had struck midnight and now it was time to go.

It had been exactly five months now since her nephew had died.


So this chapter was a of prologue of sorts, just to show where Maria, Michelle's and Carla's lives have led in the 5 months since the accident in Recovery. The next chapter will begin the story from where it left off in Recovery five months earlier.