OK, so this is VERY different from my other fics. Please let me know what you think, and review :) I am almost certain this is going to be a one shot. Also, play a little game - guess the musical :) To me, this fic is really emotional, but I guess if you don't know the musical and the depth of the lyrics, this fic will be pretty rubbish (sorry)

Twitter is ACCRK

"My name's Carla"

"Hi Carla"

"Hello" she let out, barely above a whisper.

Howard, the leader nodded to her. "Take your time, Carla"

She sighed, and closed her eyes for a few seconds. "Something has changed within me, something is not the same. I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game." She had hit rock bottom, and hit it hard. Frank was driving her to hit the bottle, and she was losing control of herself, her factory, her friends, her life. She wasn't going to play into his hands any longer. She needed to regain control, to sort herself out and to rebuild the heaps of confidence that she once had. The black beauty of Weatherfield.

This beautiful woman stood nervously in front of a crowd of strangers. All eyes on her, but she kept her face
down to avoid the stares. She grabbed the sleeves of her thin cream top, as some sort of comfort or distraction from the goings on. All eyes still on her, faces of encouragement. She still looked down.

She proceeded:
"I don't know if I'm an alcoholic or not. What I do know is that I've been putting away more than is good for me lately..." she stopped herself for a moment, and took a deep breath. Her shoulders rounded, and then relaxed. Out of the corner of her eye. She saw something. Someone. It shocked her, however, not in a bad way.

"Peter" she whispered, so only herself could hear. She caught his gaze as she looked up shyly, her head still down. He just nodded, encouraged her to proceed. His eyes full of love, care and admiration for the strong minded woman stood before him.

Carla breathed deep breaths. "But I'm getting help..." she began again. "I've heard it said, that people come into or lives for a reason..." she once again looked up at Peter, tears forming in her eyes, indirectly talking to him, the others in the room oblivious to their friendship. "...bringing something we must learn. And we are led to those, who help us most to grow..." her breaths deepened as she tried to control her crying. Peter looked on and smiled. "...if we let them, and we help them in return" She let her eyes close, as fresh tears trailed down her defined cheeks. She bit her lip in an attempt to stop the waterfall, but it hardly made a difference. "'least, I try" she added, knowing full well her attempt at 'helping' him was bedding him.

But Peter was a softie. He smiled at her, allowing her to know that it was OK, and that everything was OK. He could feel the pain she was feeling, feel the love she was craving, feel the emptiness she was suffering and the guilt that dragged her down. After all, he had been through this many a time before. Seeing her in front of him tonight had hit him hard. Never had he realised how delicate she was, how fragile and how frail. How could her facade have fooled him, too? A rush of guilt coursed his body. He felt responsible for this beautiful, broken woman, and was determined to get Carla out of this mess.

"Carla, we are here to help you, not judge" one of the voices from the circle echoed the now silent room, as all the other heads nodded in agreement.

But she couldn't stop the tears from falling. "I am broken" she admitted. "Defeated" she despised this weakness, "treated like a rag doll" she added. Her sobs became cries as she fell to her knees before everyone's eyes. She buried her head in her legs from embarrassment and frustration.

Peter quickly shot up from his seat. He ran toward her and gently comforted her by rubbing her back "Carla, please don't cry. Sweetheart, please don't cry" But he too, had to fight back the tears. How could he have let her get this bad? Why hadn't he prevented this from going too far?

He carefully aided her up to standing "Let's walk and debrief, huh?" he gestured quietly in her ear, as he led her out of the meeting. "She's my friend" he assured Howard. "I'll take care of her and assure she's not alone tonight" The group nodded in understanding as they watched Peter aid Carla out the door.

As soon as they were out of the meeting room, Carla's back fell to the closed door behind them. She slid down the door, and once again buried her head in her legs. "This is rock bottom, Peter" she sobbed, desperately trying to gasp for air. Peter cocked his head, and managed a smile. People's perception of this woman couldn't be more different to the stone cold truth. "Then the only way is up, isn't it?" she assured her optimistically, whilst once more, lifting her up to stand, and aid her out of the building. "Let's go back to yours where we can talk."

Peter struggled to work the coffee machine in Carla's flat. "What ever happened to normal nescafe or kenko?" he joked, trying to lighten the mood slightly. Carla's lips managed a small upward tug, but it could hardly be classed as a smile.

When was the last time I smiled? When was the last time I laughed? I don't remember the last time I was happy, and I can't see myself happy in the near future.

Peter walked towards the couch in her living room, where Carla had slumped after coming home. He handed her her coffee and gazed into her eyes. Carla wasn't sure if he was feeling sorry for her, pitying her or hated her.

"Talk to me" he whispered

"Why? So you can leave me again?" she asked, not being able to look him in the eye.

The feeling of guilt hit Pet where it hurt. "I didn't…" he said, not even convincing himself. He knew that wasn't true. Although he had always had good intentions, when it came down to it, he let her down. The way he saw it was that he had to save his marriage and unfortunately Carla had to suffer in return. "You were doing so well" he encouraged her.

"Yeah!" she said, lifting up her arms in front of her as if to say and look at me now, a complete mess. Silence fell in the room for a couple of seconds, until she found it an appropriate time to talk again "… because I knew you" she added.

Peter gently put his hand on her arm, and stroked it to ease her crying. He gestured for her to proceed.

"Because I knew you, I had been changed for good..." She was breaking down again. "… 'least, I thought so" she sniffed.

Again, guilt travelled Peter's body.

They were interrupted by the ringing of Peter's phone in his pocket. He cursed himself for not switching it off and give Carla his undivided attention. Carla's eyes filled to the brim with tears. "Leanne..." she half asked half stated, disappointedly, to which Peter nodded discretely. Guilt coursing through him for the third time in a matter of minutes.

"Go to her" Carla demanded, already putting her guards back up.

"I can't leave you…" Peter said uncertainly. He wanted to stay with all his heart, but his mind was telling him to leave, he was on edge and indecisive. Not answering the call obviously left Leanne reeling.

TEXT: TALKED TO HOWARD. I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE. GET HOME. NOW.

"Looks like you have to" Carla felt the pain like a dagger to the heart as she looked at the text Peter just read. There was nothing she wanted more than for him to stay. But she had to pretend she was strong. "Peter, just let me say before we part?" she asked for a chance to speak. Peter nodded, embarrassed that he had to answer to his wife's demands. Carla continued; "So much of me, is made from what I learned from you" fresh tears falling over her perfect skin. She brushed them away with her hand, as Peter watched her, in awe of her personality.

"Carla…" he tried to reason with her, not wanting her to get upset.

"…and you'll be with me, like a hand print on my heart"

"Sweetheart, this isn't good bye" Peter's eyes all teary now too. He held Carla's face softly in his hands, and stroked her cheeks of the fallen tears.

"And now whatever ways our stories end, I know you have rewritten mine…" her hands were shaking and her lips trembling "…by being my friend"

Her head collapsed into Peter's chest, as she cried like Peter had never seen her cry before. He smelt the sweet scent of her hair, and kissed the top of her warm head softly. His hands soothed her back, and he just let her cry. Just let her rid her pain. Rid the anger. Let it all out.

He switched his phone off and tossed it on the nearby table. Carla was his priority tonight.

The fragile woman.

The broken woman.

The woman he was going to fix.

The woman he loved.

"I need help"

"She who's winsome, she wins him"