The paramedics and the police had arrived on scene and were working on getting help to Andrew and Frank.
The front of the van was so severely crushed that it was near enough impossible to get the two men out so they had to call for a fire engine that was currently on the way.
Due to the crash, their was a lot of traffic so the fire engine was delayed.
In the meantime, the ambulance crew were doing everything they could. Providing oxygen and working on trying to get them conscious.
Both men were unconscious right now though, this meant no one knew that Carla was at the back and needing medical attention as soon as possible.
"I think one of them is coming round!" A paramedic alerts the crew.
"Hello? Try not to worry. You've had an accident but you're going to be out very soon. I'm a paramedic, can you tell me where it hurts?"
"E-everywhere." The male mutters, in huge amounts of pain.
"Okay, I'm going to give you some gas and air and that'll ease it off a bit. Can you tell me your name?"
"Andrew." He murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut.
"Okay, Andrew. Try and stay awake. Help will be here right away."
"Ca..."
"Pardon?" The paramedic frowns but Andrew hisses in pain, unable to catch his breath.
"Is...Is Frank a-alright?" Andrew asks.
"Whose Frank? Is he the man next to you?"
"Y-yeah. Is he okay?"
Silence.
"And what about..."
"What about who?"
"C...Ca..." he hisses in pain again, scrunching his face up in agony.
"Ah." He cries.
"Inhale more gas and air, Sir."
His eyes start fluttering shut.
"Andrew?" The paramedic questions, making a signal to get more of the medical service to help out.
"Andrew, can you hear me?" They ask, checking for a pulse.
"He's gone." They announce.
The crew soon pronounce him dead and try to help Frank but it was unsuccessful so far.
"I recognise him, you know." One of the policemen mutters to another as they lean against their car and watch on.
"How so?"
"I don't know." He shrugs, frowning as the paramedic walks over.
"We've got a name for the male in the front seat. We don't know much but apparently he is called Frank."
"Frank?" The policemen narrows his eyes, getting his phone out before gasping.
He walks over to the car and peeps in, there lay a bloody and bruised Frank.
"Can you report to Weatherfield police?"
"Why?" The other policemen questions.
"This is Frank Foster. He is currently under investigation after kidnapping a woman he'd previously raped." He announces.
"Check the van!" He adds, opening the back and finding a semi-conscious Carla in a heap on the floor, dry blood caked her face and she had severe bruising covering most of her body. "She's in here!"
The paramedics rush into the van, placing an oxygen mask over her mouth.
"Carla? Carla, can you hear me?"
"Mm." She groans.
"She's awake!" They say. "Don't worry. I'm a paramedic and we're going to get you to hospital very soon."
"Pe...Peter..." She whispers.
"We'll contact your loved ones very soon."
They carry Carla onto a stretcher and and load her into the ambulance.
"Peter, you're shaking." Michelle sighs.
They were in her flat, he was sat at the dining room table with his head in his hands. Michelle had just poured him a glass of water, placing it on front of him and sitting down.
"I need a drink." He repeats.
"I know. You keep saying-..."
"Oh well sorry if I'm boring you." He snaps.
"Peter, you need to stop snapping at everyone. We are just in the same boat as you, it isn't our fault she's gone missing."
"I just really want her." He cries.
"Come here." She embraces him, stroking his hair before his phone starts ringing. "Are you gonna answer that?"
"No." He replies.
"It might be important." She says, releasing him and passing him his phone.
"Oh, it's the police." He frowns.
"Hello?"
"Mr Barlow, we have an update on Carla Connor's case."
"What? Oh my god."
"We've found her."
"No!" He gasps, dumbfounded. "Oh my god!"
Sobs violently escaped his lips and Michelle put a hand over her mouth, thinking the worst.
"Peter? What is it?" She cries.
"They've found her! Oh my god. They've actually found her!" He sobs, Michelle doing the same.
"Is she okay?" He asks.
"She was in the back of a van and it crashed. One of our officers noticed Frank in the front seat and then we found her in the back. She is on the way to hospital now-..."
"Will she be alright?" Fear overpowered him once again.
"We don't know the extent of her injuries however she is responsive. We must warn you though, her clothes were ripped and she had dark bruises on some parts of her body that suggest it wasn't from the rash. Nothing is confirmed until she's had a full assessment but we should let you know that we think she's been sexually assaulted again." They explain.
"No..." he whispers. "Not again."
"She'll arrive at the nearest hospital very soon and then we can find out exactly what happened."
"Okay. Thanks for letting me know." Peter replies, hanging the phone up and staring at Michelle in shock.
"I told you." She cries.
"I can't believe it..."
"Now I know there's a long road ahead but at least she's still alive, Ey? At least we haven't lost her."
Later that day, Carla was now at hospital in her own room and having had many tests done.
She wasn't in a state where she was able to go over what had happened to her in detail but she kept mumbling for Peter and was also flinching which made them concerned.
The police had informed Peter and Michelle which hospital Carla was at and they were now in the waiting room, desperate for some news.
Once the doctor walked into the relatives room, the pair stood up and stared at him through pleading eyes.
"Mrs Connor has multiple broken ribs, also a severe concussion from a blow to the head, which was a superficial wound. She also has bruising to the neck, wrists, thighs and face. Now, I know you've been told this but we strongly believe she's been the victim of a sexual assault. When coming in, her clothes were all ripped in the wrong places and she also kept flinching when we carried out a few tests. We're going to wait until she's a lot more with it and then ask her if we can do a rape kit." He explains.
"Oh god." Peter gasps. "But she's awake? Can I go speak fo her?"
"She is conscious but very groggy and disorientated," He says. "We're also keeping an eye on her kidney transplant because of the lack of medication but nothing is at a dangerous level yet. Also taking into consideration, the medication for her mental health issues. We've contacted her psychologist and he'll be coming in tomorrow to speak to her."
"If this has made her need to be sectioned again then I'll kill him." Peter growls.
"Oh, Mr Foster died on the scene." He announces, sending shockwaves through the room.
"Frank is dead?" Michelle's eyes widen.
"He died shortly after Carla was rushed to hospital and their was no chance of saving him-..."
"Saving him? I would've had a flamin' party." Peter scoffs.
"Can we see her?" Michelle pleads.
"Only you two today, I'd suggest not telling other relatives to come in until she's more settled. Be careful in there, she's very scared and jumpy."
They make their way into the hospital room and opened the door. Peter couldn't look up, he felt so weak. She needed him but he just couldn't bare seeing her back in the state of 2011 but worse this time. He heard Michelle quietly gasp, and walk over to her.
He knew he had to stop thinking about himself and start being there for her.
He looked up, tears filling his eyes.
There lay a sleeping Carla. She had a cannula in her arm, wires surrounded her. A bandage was secured around her head and she had a nasal cannula around her face.
She looked peaceful, and he doubts she'd not feel like that for a while after this. So he savoured the moment and sat down next to her bedside, holding her hand and bringing it to his lips to gently kiss it.
Michelle was sat next to him, one hard to her mouth whilst the other hand rested on Carla's thigh.
They must've just stared at her for half an hour, taking in every single feature that they've been missing for days.
Her eyes fluttered open, but shut straight after due to the brightness of the room. Her fingers in Peter's hand started twitching so they all watched on, scared to see what state she'd be in.
"Carla? It's me. It's Peter." He whispers, softly.
Her eyes kept flickered before she kept them open, squinting up at Peter with confusion.
"Don't worry, you're safe now. No one is going to hurt you again." He adds, stroking her hand with his thumb. "Michelle is here as well."
"Hey, beautiful. We've missed you so much." Michelle smiles through the tears.
"F-fr..." Carla stutters, quietly.
"Don't say his name. He's gone now." Peter replies.
"Peter..." she whispers.
"Hey, baby." He cries, lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing it repeatedly.
"It hurts."
"I know it does. Don't worry, you're going to be okay."
Tears fill Carla's eyes as they dart around the room, she looked absolutely petrified.
"Why don't you go back to sleep, Hmm?" Michelle suggests, lifting her hand from her thigh as she notices Carla wince. "Oh, I'm sorry."
"I-I'm scared." She whimpers.
"Oh, darling." A tear escapes Peter's eye as he kisses her hand again.
There was nothing he could do.
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