~*~ Thank you to anyone that is still reading after so long. I struggled with all the dialogue and lack of movement in these chapters, but I wanted Carla to fill Peter in on what he missed in her life since the show never did that. I hope it's not too boring. This is dedicated to Em and Carrie, who are always so kind and encouraging. And Soph, for always helping fill me in on the details of past story lines. I hate the lack of formatting on here. Trying to split up paragraphs a bit more to look less blocky. Let me know if it's better or worse, and what you think :) ~*~

Peter's heart raced as he moved toward the sounds; his eyes scanning the blackness, frantically searching for Carla. Unsure of what he would find in the darkness, but prepared to defend her with his life.

Then Peter's heart dropped when he saw her, sprawled on the floor sobbing hysterically over the discarded dress. Half ripping at it with her hands, half trying to tear it apart with a pair of scissors. Peter approached slowly, holding back his urge to rush forward and drag her away into the safety of his arms. He didn't want to scare her, or see her hurt herself, in her frenzied state.

"Hey, love" he spoke gently; his voice calmed the hysteria raging inside her, as he lowered himself to the floor beside her.

He ran his hand gently down her arm where she had shoved up the sleeves of his shirt, until his hand rested on hers. Lightly stroking her fingers, urging her to let go of the scissors. She let him set them aside; but the torrent of tears did not stop, and her chest heaved as harsh sobs continued to take over her.

Peter's arms encircled her shaking form, and he carefully lifted her onto his lap. Not fighting him, Carla crashed against his chest; his hands stroked her hair, rocking her gently against him.

Every loving stroke of his hand, every soft kiss onto her head, soothed the broken sobs out of her. Slowly Carla lifted her head, easing the tight clutching grip her fingers had on his shirt. Carla's green eyes glistened with unshed tears, searching his for answers to questions he wasn't even sure of.

They soon clouded with sadness. Emptiness. Staring hopelessly into the softest brown eyes she had ever seen. The eyes that had always enchanted her and never left her dreams.

Her voice cracked as she spoke, "Nick is better than you. Nick is better than me"

There was no accusation or cruelty in her solemn eyes, only resolute acceptance. Peter was shaking his head vigorously. He reached out and held her chin in his hands, before sliding his fingers to cradle her cheeks, her soft tears falling over them.

"NO" Peter insisted fiercely, his dark eyes glowing with assurance; keeping absolute eye contact with hers, not letting her gaze drop. "Believe that of me if you have to. But not you. Nick will never be better than you. Not even close"

Carla ached with a need to believe him, but she knew the truth.

Peter's heart shattered as he watched her gaze cling to his. Desperate for him to heal everything that was broken, fill up all the empty spaces. He could see into her soul, see how battered it had become.

The hurt it instilled in him was so deep and crushing; he wanted to close his eyes against the pain clawing at him but he couldn't. He wouldn't break their fragile connection.

Peter knew how badly he had hurt Carla. He spent every day loathing himself for it. He would crawl over broken glass; through fire, if it meant he could take it back.

But looking at her now, he could see that Nick had destroyed her even further. In such an insidious way. Tearing down her beautiful resilient spirit, under guise of being her hero. To feed his own smarmy ego.

It gutted him to the core. Because Peter knew it was only possible because of the devastation he had left. He had sabotaged himself spectacularly, and taken Carla down with him. Left her vulnerable to Nick's controlling self-involved machinations. And it strengthened Peter's resolve to be here. To save the woman he loved with every breath.

Carla stared into Peter's eyes, as he stared back into hers. She felt a sense of unease; knowing he could see her, really see her. See what she had become. And yet a comfort, that finally someone that understood her was really seeing her, for the first time in forever.

She thought maybe that could be Nick. She had let him convince her that he did know her, that he had fixed her. Made her feel human again. Loved. Enough. And that she was nothing without him.

Peter had shattered her into a million pieces. She thought the shards would never go back together again. And then Nick swept in; swept her up, and stuck the pieces back together.

But here, gathered in Peter's strong arms, lost in the eyes that saw her truly, she knew that she was still broken.

And that he was the only one that could really put all her pieces back together again. If she was brave enough to let him. And she didn't feel brave. She was terrified. Because he was also the one that could break her apart again. For good.

There was something about those gentle brown eyes that compelled her to open up. It had always been that way. She had even had to stifle her urge to call him back, after lashing out and forcing him out of the factory, that first night. She had been terrified of his ability to dent at her walls; to WANT to get behind them. To know her. She had ended up sobbing in the bathroom instead.

Like she was now. But this time she didn't push him away.

Swiping at the tears staining her cheeks, Carla spoke softly, as she looked into Peter's eyes; that space where she was safe to say anything.

"I always had to be in charge you know" He smiled back at her. He knew better than anyone.

"I know I was a controlling cow. Bossy, pushy. What Carla wants Carla gets" she said the words sharply, like an attack on each of her flaws.

Peter for his part winced at the last words. Too familiar. He wished he could shove them back into his mouth unsaid. But he reached out to stroke her hand in encouragement.

"I know I drove you away, to.. to" she looked down where his hand was still on hers, unable to get the words out. Unable to look at him.

Peter reached for both of her hands, but she shoved them away, looking up at him, and blazed "Why. Why are you even here Peter"