A/N: Never really write from a third person narrative, so thought I'd give it a shot. I don't so much ship Carter, as I do Narla and Carchelle, so I hope this is written ok. A few people seemed interested in me writing this from Twitter, so this is for them!

"There." Carla places the mug down on the coffee table, weighing up the unappealing expression that has crossed Peter's face. "So, why did you decide to come here? I mean, it's your pub. Tell that cow to go elsewhere."

"Because you understand." He utters the words that rattle inside her head, clearly referencing their own loss.

"So does Steve."

"I don't want to see Steve." There's a hint of frustration in his tone, and she sighs as she lowers herself into the arm chair. She knew exactly what would happen if she told him to go now, and she couldn't risk him waking up in the gutter, or not waking up at all. Bar the fact that, in all honestly, secretly she knew she was glad of the company. Roy had been away recently and the loneliness of the evenings had started to catch up with her. "I want to see you." She barely hears his words over the sound of her own thoughts, but tries to conceal the force of them as they sink in.

"Have you told your dad?" She tries to keep the subject off the one he seemed to be keen on bringing up, and the simple shake of his head is enough in response. "How can she think she'd ever get away with it? She's my... My niece... I'm an auntie." A hand flies to her mouth as the realisation seeps through Carla's mind. "Did Aidan know?"

"I don't know." The calmness of his voice allows her to hold her temper, eyes drifting around the flat frantically. "I mean... I don't think so."

"It could have changed everything. If he'd have known, he wouldn't have..." She trails off, acknowledging the hurt in his face finally. "Sorry." Her head falls into her hands, as Peter shakes his head, watching her mentally piece the jigsaw together. "Sorry... I shouldn't be... It's just a shock."

"I wanted you to know first. Before it all spreads around the street. You deserve to know the truth, and I'm sorry you didn't beforehand."

"It's not your fault." She finally releases a sigh, looking up and composing herself. "How could it be? The only people who could have put this right are Toyah and Eva."

"I just... Can't believe I didn't know." He stares down into his lap, tears forming in his eyes again. "She even said he looked like me. All the plans I had for her..." Carla has to force back her own tears at the thought, the words so raw and close to the same ones she had questioned herself over and over every night before bed. "And the son I never knew. I never got to grieve for him."

"Well you can now." She places a hand on his back, rubbing it in soothing circles as he lets his guard fall, crying into her as she moves to hold him against her. Many minutes pass as she listens to his sobs, comforting him as best she can, before finally, he breaks away, meeting her gaze and dragging the back of his hand across his face.

"...Why did I hurt you?" It's almost as if he's expressed his thoughts accidentally out loud, taking in the familiarity of her face, her features, the scent of her perfume. She'd kept the same perfume. He'd even bought a bottle of it down in Portsmouth for himself, just to spray on the pillow occasionally when he really craved her. Not that he would ever reveal that. "I had everything with you... We could be so happy now, we'd have a baby girl, Simon, the factory. We'd probably have moved to a bigger house, maybe that one you were looking at in Chorlton."

"I don't think dragging up the past is helping anything here." Carla seals her eyes shut for a second, desperate not to let emotions run any higher for either of them.

"I ruined that."

"I know you did."

"I hate myself for it."

"Look, what is this achieving?" Carla holds her hands up defensively, as he crumbles back into his tortured state. "You're not here to talk about me and you."

"Aren't I?" The word lingers as she stares back at him, bemused at his question. "Is that why I stumbled over here? Of all the places I could have gone? Including a pub."

"Don't do it, Peter-"

"I still love you." It silences the room, Carla's eyes fall closed in denial of Peter's confession. "...You know I do. You've known it since you saw me step out of the café back in December. And I think somewhere deep down, I think you missed me too. And you playing around with Daniel was a way to make me jealous. I think a part of you still holds a candle for me, even if it's a tiny flame, that's so very nearly burnt out."

"I submerged that whole candle in water a very long time ago-"

"Deny it all you want." His voice is almost pleading. "But I know. I know you."

"I told you to stop!" She shouts, getting up and pacing the room in fury. "We're not doing this. Now now, not ever. Especially when you binned off your current fiancée two hours ago. It doesn't work like that, Peter. You can't just come crawling back to me and hope I'll let you back in for one night, while you try to pick up the pieces of your life. No. I'm not that woman."

"That's not what I'm doing at all!"

"You don't know what you want!" Carla argues back at him, the room temperature rising as their emotions do. "Yesterday you had a family with Toyah."

"Except I didn't though, did I?" The twinge of pain in his voice is what stops her, causes her to exhale as she leans back against the wall, watching him.

"You're hurting. It's understandable."

"That doesn't mean that my words aren't genuine." Their voices are a lot softer all of a sudden. "And you look so beautiful."

"...Peter." She has to swallow her urge to move forwards. Granted, she was desperate to feel something, after months, years of seething in rejection and worthlessness. That's why the appeal had been so strong with Daniel and Ali, men who had shown an interest in her, made her feel special, if only for a short time. "...Stop saying these things."

"Then tell me you don't feel it." He takes a step forwards, as she refuses to move, letting him approach her. She doesn't reject the hand he lifts to her cheek, grazing a finger along her defined features. She was so tempted, more than she ever had been by booze, more than she ever had been by a pair of shoes in the sale. Supposedly, that's why she lets him lean in to kiss her, the warmth emanating from their lips, reminiscing over what had been missing for four years. For a few seconds, she loses thought, enraptured by Peter's embrace, craving it before she'd even, so very reluctantly, forced herself away.

"No! Peter." Carla pushes him off her abruptly, the slightest pout fitting her cheeks as her eyes flare back at his. Steadying her posture in order to compose herself, she pushes the hair from her face, the few seconds of passion and desire that they'd just dwelled in, running through both their minds. "You can't do that."

"Why?"

"You really think this is ok?" Attempting to hold her temper, she takes a step back, exhaling sharply as she reads the confusion written into his expression. "You end one relationship and then it's straight on to the next one? Or am I just a rebound? Hm? A bit of fun to help you ease the reality? Because we've been here before, only I was the one you didn't want."

"It's not... Like that..." He stammers, shuffling his feet, unsure of how to stand for a moment in that same awkward manner she was so used to. "...This came across all wrong."

"Yeah it did." The nod of Carla's head is more firm than she intended it to be, noticing the flickered mix of hurt and regret that flashes in his eyes. "Look... You're hurting. I understand that. You know I do... But this isn't the answer, Peter. You need to go home and think things through."

"I'm not going home to her." He swallows his stubbornness, his head dipping to gaze at the gentle fray of the carpet. He wondered how long it had been sprawled along the floor for. Imagining it was probably never a priority of Roy's to change it. "That's not my home, especially not with her."

"Right well, your dad's then. Or Steve's."

"I don't want to go to Steve's." The words slide off his tongue gently, forcing their eyes to meet again. "...And I know this looks bad. I know it might seem hasty... But Carla, you'll never be second best to anyone."

"Yeah." She scoffs in response, involuntarily at first, before her face softens. "Except Tina McIntyre."

"...I know I can't condone anything that happened-"

"No, you can't!"

"But I loved you. Not her. Always you... I still do." The whisper is so soft, it almost catches the distant ticking of the clock that had gone unnoticed until there was a reason to focus in on it. "Come on, you must know that. Even before today. You've seen the way I've looked at you since you've been back. Everything I could have had. Even when Toyah was making out we had the perfect future, the perfect set up... It didn't compare to you."

"But we never had the perfect set-up, did we?" Carla dares to allow the words to formulate, a crack in her voice as she references the past. "Did we? Hey? Because I lost our baby and you slept with the babysitter."

"We were good. We were so good."

"Me and Nick were good." The backlash hits him hard, the unintentional harshness of her words pricking him like a sewing needle when missing the perfect opportunity to tie the ends of the stitching. "He treated me like gold. I'd be in Devon with him now, we'd probably have a family... If I hadn't ruined it, if he'd have given me a second chance."

"And if I hadn't have ruined it, if you'd have given me a second chance... We could have too-"

"No, don't do that." Trying hard to force back tears at the thought of the losses they'd gained nothing from, nothing but this moment right here. "Don't, Peter. That's not fair."

"I'm telling you the truth."

"You don't know the meaning of the word!"

"Yeah? Well I do now. I do now my whole world has been blown to pieces. When yesterday I held my little girl in my arms, watching her fall to sleep... Only to have that all crashing down on me. Only to be told that in actual fact, she's a stranger. That I'll never meet my own little boy. I never did. I never even got to grieve for him. Sometimes lies can show you the truth... But I guess I deserve it. Ey? Because now I know how it feels to be truly hurt and betrayed."

"You don't deserve it." Carla manages to muster as he falls down onto the sofa, his hand grazing roughly against his stubble, lowering it into his hands. "Don't say you deserve that... Nobody deserves to lose a baby. It aches."

"I'm sorry." A whisper emits his lips, as she barely catches it, swallowing before lowering herself onto the sofa next to him. "I shouldn't have come here... I just... Didn't know who else to go to. I just feel like you understand. I just wanted to see you, be with you." His eyes finally level with hers again, the red tinge watering them down as he blinks back tears. "I'm stupid. I'm really stupid... I need a drink."

"No, you don't!" Carla immediately argues back as he stands up, rocketing his way over to the kitchen on a mission to poison himself out of typical reflex. "Peter, there's nothing here anyway. It's Roy Cropper's flat, he doesn't drink."

"Well there's got to be something." The desperation in his voice surprisingly doesn't scare her. If anything, it almost set in a feeling of nostalgia; the way she used to equalise his breathing and his temper, see the self-hatred calm in his embrace. "He's got to have something."

"Well... I mean, the toilet cleaner is two percent I think." The joke was random, pointless, striking an immediate regret in her mind, but ignoring it all the same. "I've heard it's best with tonic water."

Peter can't refrain from smiling at her comment, all the sudden disconsolateness vanishing for a few moments by the slight upturn of his lips.

"I was never keen on tonic water."

"Yeah I know." She nods in recollection. "You don't like anything to water it down."

"Alright, cheeky." He takes a step closer in order to nudge her playfully, and it's as if all the fighting, grudges and sorrow was forgotten in the moment. The moment they both stared back at each other with the most meaningful smiles. The same ones that transported them back to the lazy summer nights after closing up the factory and the bookies. The play fights and the sarcastic comments. He'd been right; when they were good, they were good. Like fluorescent fire burning brighter than the other flames, passionate, alive. The trouble was, they'd had lows. The bad days were draining, usually resulting in one or both taking a 'walk' to calm the velocity of the tension and fiery personalities that had collided. But then again, who didn't have bad days? Neither had ever had a relationship without flaws, and on the flip side, the flaws often made it exciting. The unknowing and the unpredictability, at the time, was something they'd both craved. Perhaps that was why they'd worked so well, despite the odds stacking against them. Perhaps now, after the reflection of the past four years, now they'd matured and stabilised in their more perdurable relationships. They both knew what they wanted. And deep down, they both knew they couldn't fake a connection, especially one which could never fully go away. Not when the love they once shared was so consuming and natural.

"I'll prove it to you, you know?" His words break the silence, both pausing to pass over them, the almost echo as they resound against the greying walls of the flat. "I'll show you that this isn't just an impulse, a spur of the moment thought. I'll prove to you that I haven't stopped thinking about you since the day I fell in love with your shower gel... And fell in love with you... I've left Toyah... Not just because of the deceit, but because it would have been the inevitable. She's not you, Carla. And if it had been you, I wouldn't have been able to walk away as easily as I have."

"But I'd never do that to you. Ever. It's sick and it's cruel."

"You see? This is why you're such an incredible person."

"I'm not... I'm far from it."

"Well to me you are." The huskiness of his voice sends electricity channeling down her spine, keeping her eyes glued to his. "I've never looked at somebody and felt so proud. Of the way they've grown, battled their demons, their strength."

"So? So what if you are being genuine?" The slight cocky smile re-formulating seemed to have a hint of temptation written through it, or so he thought. "What makes you think I'll forgive you?"

"Because you love me."

"I don't."

"Well then you still have feelings for me." He persists and she purses her lips together, refusing to deny or admit to anything, despite her stance answering the question itself. "Otherwise you'd have told me to go."

"Maybe I'm just too good of a person, regardless of my own opposing self-loathing a lot of the time. A lot more frequently recently. Now I'm damaged and ageing and grieving. Or maybe that's just softened me so much that I'm too caring."

"See, you still care about me."

"Yes, of course I still care about you!" Carla's voice heightens in dynamics, as the truth is admitted, before falling quiet again. "...You can't just stop caring about someone... No matter what they did... But it doesn't mean I..."

"...So tell me to go?" He takes another step closer, his fingers itching to dance over the chiffon of her top, to show some kind of physical interaction that would prove his feelings. "Tell me to go, now and I will." His eyes focus on hers, marvelling at the deep greens, flecks of hazelnut and pine, like two orbs of forest, the breeze settling in the leaves as she refuses to blink, tear them away from him. It could be so easy, but she knew she didn't want to. That same irresistible, moralistic gaze that she thought could so easily be honest if she hadn't read it so many times before, when in actual fact the bigger picture included a lot more to him than the moment he was in. "...I know it's going to take time. I know I can't just expect to walk in here, confess all and win you around. You're better than that. You're better than me."

"Yeah, I am."

"But you've made mistakes too. We both have. We're changed people now. We're more mature and progressed."

"And we're also both hurting." She adds to the verbal CV of their emotions he was relaying. "Rash decisions shouldn't be made upon grief."

"This isn't a rash decision." Peter enforces, still surprised she had held her gaze on his, without destroying the tension binding them together. "And grief is a totally separate factor to you and me." He inches his head forwards, so he could just about feel the heat emanating from her skin, the predominance of her jawline as he places a kiss against it, another against her cheek, his hand moving to her hair. He moves back, shocked she hadn't pushed him off or fought his actions again. He knew from the lust in her eyes, the swallow evidenced in the ripple of her neck that she didn't feel pressurised. That was the last thing he wanted. "...I know I'm coming on strong. I know you've had the hardest of times, lately... So I'm going to go... I wouldn't want to seem like I'm taking advantage of that. You know I never would."

"I know you're not, Peter." Her voice is so soft, almost musical as it fills his ears. "But I just think your head is a mess, after everything today... You're really fragile right now... I'm really fragile right now."

"I know that, remember?" He smiles contently at the past, the memories that flood back from the night they first confessed their love to one another. "But whether I'd learnt what I had today, or not. Whether this was last week, or last month, or last year. My feelings are still the same... I just had to tell you now, because it's the only thing I'm clear of after the last few hours of pure embroilment." Forcing himself to take a step backwards, the denim of his jacket rough against his hand as he grabs it from the sofa, proceeding to leave before hesitating, turning to face her. "I told you in the hospital that I cared about you. I made it obvious I was jealous over you and Daniel. And I told you a long time ago that I wouldn't give up on us... I won't... I never will."

She doesn't move, stays glued to the spot as she absorbs his words, all the hints she hadn't picked up on, or at least only partly. Despite all odds, she knew Peter. It was easy to argue she didn't after the way their marriage had ended, but if anyone knew his heart the best, it was her.

"And I love you." The words slip off his tongue, his head gliding around in movement with his body as his hand finds the door handle, allowing it to close softly behind him. The gentle creak leaves her alone, the ticking of the clock sounding once more, the loneliness ensuing.

Peter leans back against the wall just left of the door, just right of the staircase. His eyes close in either exhaustion or relief, maybe a mix of the two. He wondered whether she'd have kicked back into reality, fluffing the cushions as if nothing ever happened. Or she'd be collapsed against the sofa, thinking over his words.

"...I don't want you to go." His head snaps around, not even hearing the opening of the door, squeezing his eyes shut briefly to check he wasn't hallucinating.

"What?" The word hardly formulates, sitting hesitantly in the small space between them; the small space that was too big.

"I don't want you to go." She repeats, as if he hadn't caught it the first time. Her expression is completely raw and naked, upholding no barriers. "Please stay."

His body finds the vulnerability in her frame, sliding his arms around her waist and realising how much he cherishes the intimacy. Her head tilts upwards slightly to meet his, top eyelashes resting against their sisters as she closes her eyes contently, absorbing the happenings that had somehow come about. He didn't know how to react. Did she want him to stay because she was lonely? Did she crave the affection? Maybe his words had guided her to her senses? Perhaps this was her admitting her own feelings to him. Or she could just be bored... "You're not going to push me down the stairs?"

"Don't give me ideas." The slightest giggle released from her lips sends butterflies cascading inside him. "...But it's dark out and I wouldn't want you... Getting yourself into trouble out there. Especially when you've had a state of a day."

"How kind of you." Peter pauses, lifting a hand to stroke a strand of her hair behind her ear. Admittedly, she looked more beautiful than ever. He didn't know how she managed to look younger with age, but the tinted pink blush to her cheeks, the plumpness of her lips, the deep chocolate colouring of her hair were all things he defined as perfect. "Is it just for that reason?"

"And... I guess... Roy's away. You're just a distraction really." The words are hot against his cheek as she moves to whisper them in his ear. She doesn't move her lips from where they're so close to grazing his skin, exhaling softly at the familiar scent of his aftershave. "Are you alright? If you want to cry... Or shout."

"You know what? Somehow it doesn't seem so vivid anymore." He dares to move his face so that his nose accidentally nudges hers, so close to her that he could virtually feel her heart beating in her chest. "Somehow, I'm a lot calmer now."

"I suppose I do have magical powers." She whispers against him, gliding her hand up his arm in probably a supportive manner, but it influences a much more desirable shiver inside him. "I've never fallen on those cobbles in six inch stilettos... Oh wait, maybe once or twice. But, I've learnt I can steer clear of red wine for a total of one hundred and twenty seven days, that's magic... I did a first aid course in Devon, so now I know how to put an arm in a sling, not magic, but an achievement I guess. And..." She pauses on the word, leaving it hanging seductively between them both. "My underwear drawer has magically grown, excessively, not down to shopping at all... Yet I forgot to put any on right now."

"Why are you teasing me?" Her nose presses gently against his, her eyes fluttering upwards as she releases a lustful sigh against his skin.

"Because I know you like it." The words are barely spoken before she has emitted a kiss against his lips, waiting for reception as Peter returns it, weaving his hand through her hair to clasp the back of her head gently.

"Are you winding me up? Is this some kind of revenge plot?" He pulls away, fearing he'd be left heartbroken twice in one day. The look on her face expresses it all, immediately causing a flicker of guilt through his own.

"...You really think I'd be cruel enough to exploit a time like this?" She narrows her eyes, although surprisingly there was very little anger in her tone. "I'm not that kind of person anymore and even if I was, I think I'd choose my timing a little better."

"Ok, I'm sorry. Sorry." He worries he's already ruined his chances, the ones which were so slim in the first place, he was in disbelief that he was stood embracing the woman he had loved for seven years. "I just... Can't believe this is happening."

"Yeah, well, don't get too excited. I only want some company while I stick a DVD on."

"A DVD?" Peter scoffs playfully, moving forwards to place another kiss against her lips. "You really do have two sides to you, don't you? Besides, nobody watches DVD's anymore."

"It's Roy's flat. He's still got a video player." She points out, calming against him and letting her barriers slip slightly. "I think... We both just need some comfort. Or at least, someone, tonight. Hey? I don't want you being on your own, turning to the bottle. At least here I can keep my eyes on you."

"Yeah, because that's the full reason I'm here." He teases her. "I'll have my eyes on you for a completely different reason... Are you sure you want me to stay?"

"Peter, I might only have one working kidney, and yeah, maybe I've gone soft. But I don't say things that I don't mean."

"Yeah, and neither do I." He conveys the truth back to her, all of the confessions made over the past half an hour. Their eyes fixate for a matter of seconds, breathing in the connection that was sparking, like a circuit which had finally been fitted into place again, waves of electricity beginning to pump from A to B. She's the next to move in, slipping an arm around his neck as her lips find his, nibbling gently on his lower one. They continue to enjoy one another's presence, the kiss becoming more heated before one of them has to let go, if only for their own stubbornness; if they continued this sensual embrace, without a doubt, they'd end up in bed. And that was something Carla was ruling off for tonight. Instead, appreciating the fact he doesn't try to persist, she folds her head into his chest, letting his arms wrap around her, as they sway gently at the top of the stairs.

Both fragile.

Both broken.

Both fixable.