Tw: Descriptions of attempted suicide and suicidal thoughts. Mentions of sexual assault. Please do not read if it is unsafe for you to do so. Support information at the end of the chapter.
"Carla?"
Someone was stroking her hair, but she didn't want to open her eyes. She felt sick.
"Carla, wake up…"
"Mm—" She shook her head and pulled the duvet completely over her head. She felt the bed tip and a gentle hand against her shoulder through the blanket. "I'm going to throw up."
"Well we need to get you to the bathroom then."
No sooner had the words been spoken, Carla felt her stomach lurch and instantly threw the covers back. She stumbled slightly, the room spinning as a wave of dizziness and nausea threatened to overcome her. Oh god. She wasn't going to make it. She heaved and there was suddenly a stark, red bucket under her nose. Just in the nick of time.
"It's okay, you're okay." Michelle whispered soothingly, coaxing her to sit on the edge of the bed, the bucket resting on her knees. Carla felt her hair being pulled back from her face as she gagged again. Her eyes streamed from the pain; her stomach was empty other than the couple of glasses of water she'd managed. There was nothing to bring back up. She spat bile into the bucket and the bitterness made her retch again. Michelle rubbed gentle circles over her back. She didn't want to open her eyes yet, the room was still spinning.
"I feel hungover." She rasped.
"It's the side effects of your medication. It won't last…" Michelle assured her, though made a mental note to drop Ali a text to ask whether they should be as severe. Carla placed the bucket on the floor and dropped her head into her hands.
"That's Roy's new mop bucket." She murmured. Michelle let out a gentle laugh.
"Better than on his carpet though, eh?"
She picked up a glass of water from the side, the one she'd set down beside her medication and handed it to Carla.
"Just sip it steady."
Carla felt the coolness ease the stinging at the back of her throat. She ran a hand over her face, she was clammy.
"This isn't normal."
"It's strong medication, but we can phone the doctor's and ask about it." Michelle told her, slipping a careful arm around her shoulders. "How do you feel?"
"Horrible."
There was a soft knock at the door. Carla murmured at Roy to come in. But when it opened it wasn't Roy's head that appeared around the frame.
"Roy let me up, I just wanted to check how—" Peter broke off, surveying the scene in front of him.
"Not a good time." Michelle sighed, taking the water from Carla. Her hands were shaking slightly, she looked as though she was in danger of spilling it.
"Are you okay?"
"Never better." Carla muttered, hating the fact she had an audience. She was still reeling from the days before, trying to piece together the events that had led her here, but the dizziness was back and all she really wanted to do was lie back down in the dark. "I'm going to brush my teeth." She decided, pulling herself up from the bed. Her feet were still unsteady, and she reached out for the bedside table but Michelle had got up with her and she placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Do you want me to… Make a brew?" Peter offered, still lingering by the door.
"Coffee." Carla immediately answered, but Michelle caught his eye.
"Decaf."
Carla winced and grabbed the bucket from the floor.
"I can sort that—"
"No. I'll do it." She muttered irritably, before slouching from the room. Michelle bit her lip nervously as she disappeared inside the bathroom, wondering whether to go and supervise but knowing Carla definitely would not appreciate that.
"What time is it?" Michelle called out to Peter, who was busying himself in the kitchenette. She faffed with her hair in Carla's bedroom mirror, wiped the smears of mascara that she couldn't believe had survived her fits of tears and pulled her top straight. Carla's top.
"Just before eight."
She let out a groan as she entered the living room, rummaging in her bag for her phone.
"Robert's going to fire me. I'm supposed to be there in half an hour." She sighed, heading over to the counter to pick up the mug Peter had gestured for her to take. "Ta."
"Well that's plenty of time, you're only over the road." He shrugged.
Michelle glanced down at her attire. The top she had borrowed was heavily creased from where Carla had bunched the material in her fists as she'd cried. "Yeah he'll love me rocking up in yesterday's cloth—"
"Whoa hang on. You stayed the night?" He was looking at her offhandedly, his face creased.
Michelle let out an angered scoff, her lip curling as she glared at him.
"Get a grip." She snapped. "What exactly do you think happened?"
"Nothing I just didn't—Well I called the café after my meeting and Roy said she was asleep—"
"Yeah. Exactly. We fell asleep. You saw the state she was in, how could you even-?"
"I didn't—I mean I know. I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry…" He jumped in quickly, clearly eager to quell her anger.
"Just—Make her some toast." Michelle pointed to the toaster behind him and made her way across to the bathroom. She knocked gently on the door and pushed it open.
"Carla?"
She was sat on the edge of the bath, head in hand. But her toothbrush laid out on the side and it looked as though she'd used her mouthwash.
"I'm dizzy." She murmured, squeezing her eyes shut. "I want to lie down."
"You need something to eat first. And your med—"
Carla let out a pained groan and shook her head. "Not that stuff again—"
"it'll be better if you eat something." Michelle assured her, reaching out for her hand. Carla took it and allowed the younger woman to lead her over towards the sofa. She fluffed the cushions for her, then seemed to have a better idea.
"Hang on."
Carla watched her disappear into the bedroom. Peter brought her drink and a plate of toast over. The smell of it made her wince.
"Hey, love. Just try and get a bit down you, okay?" He smiled gently, reaching out to pat her hand. "Do you want the tv on?"
She shrugged. In all honesty she didn't care. She didn't want to eat or make friendly chat. Michelle returned a pillow tucked under one arm and a throw slung over the other. She positioned it comfortably behind Carla's back and laid the blanket over her. Peter placed the plate in her lap encouragingly.
"I don't want you all here watching me." Carla scowled, though she couldn't help sinking back against the pillow. God, sleep had never been so appealing. Or the quiet. It hadn't been quiet in her mind for days.
"I won't be, I've got to go to the Bistro, soon." Michelle sighed, picking up the remote and flicking the Tv on. She searched through for something that might spike Carla's interest and eventually settled on a daytime television show that promised an upcoming fashion piece.
"Are you working?" She asked Peter.
"Supposed to be picking up a Mrs Ainsworth as we speak." He shrugged, plucking his phone from his jacket pocket.
"Please both of you, just go to work." Carla groaned, her fingertips crumbling the edge of her toast crust to crumbs. "Or I really will lose my mind."
"Okay, okay." Michelle stopped Carla's anxious hands with her own. "Don't mess with your food, you need to eat it."
"Michelle she's not a kid." Peter dared to utter, and it was only for the sake of not aggravating Carla further that Michelle kept her mouth shut.
"Roy's going to be downstairs," Michelle reassured her. Carla's phone was on the coffee table. She picked it up and set a timer. "When this goes off, you need to take your medication. But Roy's going to come up and check."
"Exciting." Carla sank back further into the pillow. "You can go then."
Michelle sighed, half tempted to call for the day off but they had two massive bookings and she knew Robert would go mad.
"If you need anything at all—"
"Michelle she's practically got you on speed dial. She knows." Peter rolled his eyes and moved in to give Carla a quick hug. "I'll see you later, love. Take care."
Michelle said goodbye to her next, kissing the top of her head before grabbing her coat.
"Don't speak to me." She muttered to Peter, as they made their way down the stairs together.
"Ray of sunshine, you." He scoffed.
"You don't exactly light up my life either, Peter." She snapped back, having to stop when he reached the door first.
"You used to like me. A lot." He reminded her, pushing the door open. Michelle shuddered.
"I was on the rebound."
He raised his brow, holding the door open and gesturing for her to go first.
"Thanks."
"I was on the rebound too." He shrugged, as she ducked under him and made her way into the café. Roy paused from where he'd been buttering bread.
"Thin ice, mate!" Michelle snapped, not bothering to keep her voice low. She turned to Roy.
"Carla's okay for now, I think. Will you make sure she's eaten? I've set a timer for her medication at eleven but—"
"Rest assured, I'll see to it that she has it." Roy nodded.
"Thanks, Roy. I've got my phone on but I'll be back on my lunch break anyway—"
"Because she can't go five seconds without interfering." Peter muttered childishly, already making his way towards the exit.
"I will interfere with the placement of your nose on your face, if you don't shut it!" Michelle called after him viciously, also stalking out onto the street.
"Hmm, yeah, that's what drew me to you, that warm disposition—" He began sarcastically, until Michelle cut him off.
"Get stuffed." She turned on heel and stormed off in the direction of the Rovers. She was going to be so late, and she knew Robert would give her hell for it.
"Have a fantastic day, Michelle!" He called after her, clicking his lighter to spark the cigarette he'd just pulled from the packet. She didn't respond, but she did throw up her hand and offer him a rude one -fingered gesture, without even breaking stride.
|X|X|X|
"Carla?" Roy poked his head around the door.
"Bang on." Carla mumbled to herself, she was just switching the ringer off her phone. Her plate was untouched on the coffee table, a mass of crumbs where she'd shredded her breakfast rather than eaten it. The decaffeinated coffee hadn't been a hit either, it was full and stone cold.
"You need to take your medication." Roy stated unnecessarily. He brought the packet from the side to her and looked at her expectantly.
"Oh, I'm not to be trusted." Carla scoffed, popping two pills out and throwing them into her mouth. She took a large mouthful of water and swallowed. "Happy?"
"Your discomfort brings me no satisfaction." He simply stated.
"Right, well I'm sorry my presence is so draining—"
"That's not what I meant at all."
There was silence for a moment, Roy stood stiffly by the arm of the sofa.
"Roy, you can go."
"Michelle will be back in an hour. Perhaps you could have lunch with her."
"I'll see if I can squeeze her into my hectic schedule."
Realising he wasn't going to get much further with her, he nodded again and made his way out of the room. Carla waited a good ten seconds, waited to make sure he wasn't coming back and then pulled two white pills from under her tongue, shuddering at the bitter taste as they'd started to dissolve. She moved over to the sink and rinsed them down the plug, chugging more water to take the taste away.
It was silent again, too silent. She'd switched the television off, she didn't like to hear them talking. But she felt jittery, nervous being here alone. She glanced around the room, suddenly worried someone was going to come from the rooms and make her retake her pills. What if someone was watching her?
"Don't be stupid." She hissed to herself, shaking her head.
They might be.
Carla froze.
Why do you think everyone's got you here under surveillance?
"Shut up." She muttered, clutching hold of the countertop. "Go away."
Fine. If you don't want any help.
Carla scanned the room frantically. She marched across to Roy's bedroom and threw it open. It was empty. She began to check the wardrobe, under the bed, anywhere anyone might be hiding. She paused at the photo on his bedside; Hayley was smiling, happy, next to Roy on her wedding day. Year of it they'd had, until she'd foisted herself upon them. She felt her eyes fill and shook her head. When she found all potential hiding places empty, she moved onto her own room.
You need to leave.
"And go where?" She stressed, continuing to manically search the flat. She was getting ridiculous now, opening the microwave, the top cupboards, even the fridge.
Come and find us. You'll be safe.
"Where are you?" Carla whispered fearfully, edging towards the kitchen curtains. They weren't full drawn back. She snatched them open and found nothing behind.
You know where.
"Factory." Carla muttered, flying through the flat and snatching up her coat. She wrenched the door open and crept down the stairs. The café was heaving, all the builders had come to pre-order lunch before the rush and Roy looked rushed off his feet. Shona was handing out take-out cups left, right and centre.
"No, mine's black with three sugars." One of the builder's corrected her, and she apologised, quickly switching the cups.
"And mine's tea."
"Sorry, sorry," She stressed, looking at the scribbled words on the cooling sleeves. "Right, that's yours—"
"Carla?"
Roy's voice suddenly rang out and she froze.
"Uh… I need to go—"
"Where? Michelle will be here soon." He was stood with an armful of wrapped butties and the gaggle were getting impatient.
"Michelle? No, she can't know." Carla whispered, shaking her head frantically. "I need to go."
She didn't give him an opportunity to protest. The rowdy voices of the builders filled her head and they almost overpowered the others she could hear. She clapped her hand over her ears.
"Just be quiet!" She screamed, rendering the entire café silent.
"Carla, you're not well— Carla!" Roy couldn't get to her in time. She'd bolted.
"I need to call… Someone." Roy dumped the sandwiches on the counter and the hassled looking workmen began to sort through them themselves. "Shona, call Johnny. I'll call Michelle."
|X|X|X|
Carla made her way down the street, keeping her back close to the wall.
"They're going to lock me away again, aren't they?" She cried softly, tears glistening on her cheeks.
They might if they catch you.
Carla swiped at her cheeks impatiently and let out a frustrated growl. Now wasn't the time to go to pieces, now was the time to—
"Hayley?"
There was a woman, not too far away. She was in a red coat with her hood up. Carla had recognised her instantly. But she didn't answer. She kept on walking.
"Wait!" Carla tore after her, she looked like she was going to continue down the street by the flats. "Please, wait. I'm sorry… I'm sorry for everything, just talk to me."
Maybe Hayley wouldn't like her anymore either. The thought caused her heart to clench painfully because she'd missed her so much. She'd always been there, always forgiven her.
"Don't go… Don't…" Carla begged feebly, watching the figure begin to ascend the winding stairs on the fire escape.
Go after her, then.
Carla nodded, and moved across to the stairs. She was already two flights ahead.
"Please just wait for me, I need to talk to you!"
She needed explain. It wasn't her fault, it wasn't. Everything was an accident.
Were the affairs accident's Carla? You dragged her into that, didn't you? She nearly died because of you.
"That was Tony—"
It was YOU! You're poisonous. No wonder they want to take you away.
"You said they wouldn't!" Carla sobbed, her hands slipping on the railings. There was a stitch in her side as she continued to climb, knees shaking as she made her way higher.
Yeah, maybe not. Maybe not if you put an end to all of this.
She reached the top, wheezing, sweat gathered in her hairline. The woman in the red coat was right by the edge of the safety railing.
"Hayley?" Carla whispered, daring to take a step towards her. She turned around and Carla let out a shriek of terror.
"Rana?"
"Yeah, me." She smirked. She surveyed the other woman darkly. "Look at you. Pathetic."
But she was horrifying. Deathly pale, features dark, teeth bared at her like she was ready to strike and attack. Carla scrunched her eyes up tight and shook her head.
"You're dead, you're dead…"
"Because of you."
Carla looked up at her again, her eyes wide. "I didn't mean it."
"Everyone's dead. Me, Aidan, Hayley… Everyone you foisted your miserable presence on."
Carla trembled. So, this was it? Revenge, finally? After everything she'd tried to get away from, it had caught up with her.
"What do you want?" She whispered, wringing her hands together. Rana beckoned her closer to the edge.
"You to pay for it all."
|X|X|X|
"I am so sorry. I tried to stop her, I—"
"Roy, it's not your fault. If anything, it's mine, I shouldn't have left her." Michelle had appeared at the café less than minutes after his worried phone call.
"Did you see which way she went?"
He shook his head, looking stricken.
"Was she hearing things again?"
"I think it would be safe to assume so." He nodded, watching Michelle's face crumple.
"Oh god, how could we let this happen again?" Michelle pushed her hands through her hair, tears gathering in her eyes. She pulled out her phone and tried to call her number, but her phone wasn't even switched on.
"I've called Peter. He's on his way back from town."
Michelle just nodded. What use would he be again?
"And Johnny?"
Roy nodded behind them, where the man in question was jogging towards them, his face screwed up as though in pain.
"Any sign?" He panted, his hands resting against his thighs for a moment as he battled a stitch. Michelle shook her head.
"Right, we need to ask around. See if any—"
They were cut off by a loud shout from the opposite direction. Someone, a man in a dark suit, had come out of Victoria Court and was staring up at the wall of the old tattoo premises in horror.
"Wait there! I'll call someone! Hold on!"
Michelle was the fastest, owing to the converse on her feet instead of her usual heels. Robert had been less than impressed when she'd showed up to work so casually, but it had been a feat she'd made it at all. Heart in her mouth, she practically fell to a halt, her knees nearly giving way when she saw her.
Carla was so high up. As high as she could be. She was on the outside of the railings, her hands behind her, gripping tightly onto the rusting bar that was the only thing stopping her from dropping off.
"No…" Michelle whispered, horror-struck. She looked around in panic, trying to force herself to think straight because she guessed they had seconds to act. With Johnny and Roy heading towards her and the man who'd come from the flats already on the phone to an ambulance, Michelle made up her mind.
With to time to try and placate Johnny who'd let out a panicked shout, she started to climb the stairs.
"Michelle, what're you doing? It's not safe!" He called out, but she knew she was a million times safer than Carla, who was currently hanging off the edge.
Adrenaline spurred her on and she made it to the top quickly. She avoided looking down. Her legs were trembling.
"Carla…" She whispered, softly, forcing her legs to take a step closer. Every part of her body was protesting against the danger she was putting herself in.
"Don't. Don't come near me." Carla snapped; her eyes screwed shut. "Leave me alone."
"Okay, okay," Michelle swallowed. The breeze lifted Carla's hair and she saw her fingers shift slightly on the railings. She couldn't feel her heart. "Just… Just tell me what you're doing up here." She decided to try and keep her talking.
"Making it all go away." Carla whispered, her teeth chattering. She could feel the rust digging into her palms.
"Making what go away, sweetheart?"
"The voices. This is payback."
Michelle wiped the tears from her cheeks and inched closer. There were more people gathering below now and she hoped to God someone would be able to soften the fall somehow if she—
She let out a sob at the thought.
"Don't cry. It'll be over soon."
"Do you… Do you know who I am?" Michelle asked. She'd moved closer now, but she didn't want to startle the other woman, she didn't want to do anything that might make her let go.
"Michelle." Carla sighed; her eyes still closed. "I didn't want you here, I didn't want you to see…"
The younger woman bit down hard on her lower lip to stop herself from crying out again.
"Then let me help you back over?" She spoke softly, taking another tentative step closer.
"If I do that, they'll never leave me alone. This needs to happen."
"It doesn't." Michelle insisted. She knew if she reached out now her fingertips would almost graze her coat. "We can sort this, I promise you."
Carla shook her head again. She could see Johnny and Roy below her, the fear in their faces. Or was it fear? She couldn't see through the blur of her tears. Maybe it was hope.
Probably. Once they're rid of the burden of you, they'll be relieved.
"Shut up!" Carla cried out. She moved one hand to her ear and Michelle suddenly darted forward, catching her around the waist, her chest flush against her back.
"I've got you, I've got you," She sobbed, even as Carla struggled against her grip. "It's okay."
"Let me go! I've got to do this." Carla cried, pulling away with so much force that Michelle staggered slightly.
Shouts of panic drifted up. Michelle kept on arm tightly around her waist and used the other to grip hold of the railing herself.
"Listen to me, sweetheart," She whispered, her heart thumping rapidly in her chest. "You're not safe up here, we need to turn you around—"
"No!"
"Please?" Michelle begged, not bothering to keep her tears hidden this time. Not that she would have been able to. "I promise you'll be safe. You know you can trust me."
She placed her chin on Carla's shoulder, pressing their cheeks together. "You're safe with me…"
Carla nodded once, letting out a wracking sob.
"Okay," Michelle swallowed, wondering how on earth they were going to manage. Her own limbs were shaking, but Carla didn't seem as terrified of the height as she was. "Okay you need to let go with one hand—Slowly!" She instructed. "It's okay, I'm not going to let you go. I promise."
"I'll fall." Carla whispered, shaking her head.
Well, maybe that's what she wants. It'll put everyone out of their misery. You're clearly too pathetic.
"No…" She moaned feebly, tears sliding down her face. "Just stop."
"What it is? What're they saying to you?" Michelle asked. Her arms were still clamed firmly around the older brunette, keeping her melded to the railing.
"You… You want me to fall… Because that puts everyone out of their misery."
"That's not true." Michelle promised, moving her lips by her ear. "Listen to me, not them. In fact, tell them to go away while I'm speaking." She nuzzled into her slightly, squeezing tightly, praying that this wasn't about to be one of their last conversations. She cleared her head of that thought. There was no way Carla was going to be hurt. "I'm holding you so tightly right now." She spoke softly, her voice trembling with the effort it was taking to keep herself composed. "Because I need you here, with me. Okay? I don't want you hurt, not ever. I love you."
Carla's body went limp as she succumbed to her own emotions, wracked sobs tearing from her throat.
"So, I'm going to help you now, okay?" She pressed a reassuring kiss against her temple. "I've got you."
Carla nodded. Under Michelle's instruction, she uncurled one hand from the railing and allowed the younger woman to help her turn around.
"That's it, really slow…Don't worry I'm holding you… You're okay." She coaxed, moving with her as she managed to rotate herself, steadied by Michelle's hands at her back. "You're doing so well…" Michelle praised, when both of Carla's hands were wrapped securely around the railings once more, this time facing her.
Carla raised her chin, her gaze finally meeting Michelle's and her entire face dropped.
"No…" She whispered, her heartrate starting to increase. "You… Rana."
"What? No it's me, listen to my voice, just my voice—It's—Carla!"
Michelle's scream came at the same time as everyone's below. Carla's face had contorted in pure terror and she'd let go in an attempt to push Michelle away. The younger woman lurched over the edge and gripped hold of her coat, but in her desperation, she suddenly found her own self teetering dangerously far over the edge.
On the ground, Kate had let out a terrified scream. She'd joined the gaggle and was bundled up under Johnny's arm with tears streaming down he face.
"Dad, they're both going to fall!" She cried.
"Where's this ambulance?" Johnny shouted angrily, half debating whether to go up himself.
"Dad no, your MS!" Kate knew what he'd been thinking.
"I'm not watching them both fall!"
A StreetCars cab rounded the corner at breakneck speed. It had barely screeched to a halt before Peter had thrown himself out of it. He took at the scene above and started to climb, despite the shouts of protest from Tracy.
"Peter what are you playing at? Don't go up there! She's gone mental!"
"You shut your face!" Kate screamed back at her, while Johnny attempted to stop her from launching herself at her.
Michelle clung to Carla as tightly as she could managed. She had one hand gripped around the railing, but she could feel it slipping, feel her own body inching further over the ledge as the weight of holding the other woman unbalanced her.
"You have to let me go." Carla pushed. She'd lost her footing and fallen too far to find purchase again. She was the only thing keeping her from hurtling towards the ground. But the realisation of the immediate danger Michelle was in seemed to have broken through something in her, just slightly. "'Chelle, let me go…"
Michelle shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No."
"You'll fall too…"
"I can hold on." She insisted, though for how much longer she didn't know.
"We're both slipping. Please just let me go." Carla attempted to loosen her hold, but Michelle tightened hers, despite knowing that if she was pulled any further, she wouldn't be able to keep either of them from falling.
"I can't… I can't, I love you…"
"I won't drag anyone else down with me, especially not you."
"Carla, no!" Michelle screamed out and lunged forward as she tried to let go. She should have fallen too. They both should be falling. But someone had grabbed hold of her, and her feet were planted firmly on the solid base and another pair of hands had joined hers in pulling Carla safely over the rail. The older brunette fell into her chest and Michelle sank down to the floor, crying and shaking as hard as Carla.
Peter placed his hand on her shoulder, he looked pale and faint, like he might throw up. Carla was tucked into Michelle's chest, eyes scrunched in anticipation of a hard landing that had never come. There were sirens in the distance. Carla opened one eye, then the other, slowly lifting her head. She caught sight of him and let out a longing whimper. Oh god, she'd missed him. And she was sorry, so sorry and now she could finally tell him. She reached out, her hand shaking, placed it against his cheek.
"You're here… Aidan."
He shook his head, brow furrowing. "It's me, love… It's Peter."
Carla dropped her hand and let out a cry, shaking her head as she fell back against Michelle once more, broken sounding cries muffled against her chest.
"I've got you; I've got you," Michelle choked, she was crying just as hard, rocking the older brunette. She clung to her, as though they were hanging of the edge again. "You're okay, baby, I'm here…" She continued, lacing kisses into her hair.
"You're safe now." She whispered. The ambulance was close now, she watched as it came around the corner, siren's deafeningly loud, blue lights flashing. But it only afforded her the tiniest amount of relief. Carla might not have fallen, but she was far from okay. "You're safe."
|X|X|X|
"Ali? What's happening?" Michelle jumped up from her seat as her son swiped himself back through the secure doors. He looked sombre.
"They're… Detaining her. Under the Mental Health Act."
"What?" Michelle shook her head, trying to take it all in. "What does that even mean?"
"It means she's got to stay here until she's no longer a danger to herself. It means she can't refuse treatment."
"I don't understand, what's—"
The doors opened and a harassed looking Doctor walked through, muttering into the pager he'd pulled from his belt. "No, it's acute psychosis… Yeah, sedatives I think." There was still pained crying coming from one of the rooms, and she knew exactly who it was. It was muffled against instantly when the door closed.
"Ali. She shouldn't be here." The other Doctor nodded towards Michelle, who suddenly felt a flare of anger.
"Well I'm not moving until someone tells me what's going on!" She shouted, her eyes filling with tears. "That woman you've just taken through is—she—we're family."
"This isn't professional." He warned Ali, though relented with a curt nod and dashed off down the corridor.
"Mum, she's not in a good way." He sighed, moving to sit her on one of the three hard, plastic chairs situated against the wall. "It's really not my area of expertise, strictly speaking I shouldn't be here either but—Anyway, they've ruled her as a danger to herself and other—"
"She isn't a danger to anyone else!"
"I know, I know, but she nearly pulled you over that fire escape too—"
"I went up after her! She didn't mean to!"
Ali nodded in understanding. "I know, but the point is she's acting in ways which doesn't just put her at risk."
"But you can give her more medication? You can stop her seeing things?" Michelle whispered. Her leg was bounced with nerves. Ali placed a calming hand on her knee.
"The medication stops the anxiety, which I think is probably one of her triggers for one of these episodes." He explained, "But they don't necessarily stop the symptoms of psychosis, not straight away."
"So something must have scared her?"
"I don't know, I—"
They were interrupted by another loud shout and Michelle let out a saddened hum. "What are they doing?"
He looked hesitant to answer.
"Well, she can't refuse treatment. They'll ask her permission first but if she doesn't co-operate then… Well, they are trained to restrain her and force her."
Michelle let out a whimper, covering her face with her hands. "Ali, she'll hate that. She'll hate it…"
"Mum, I'm sorry—"
The previous Doctor was on his way back through, with another in a scrub suit.
"Wait!" Michelle darted out to stop them. "Let me see her."
"We can't, she's not stable—"
"I can calm her down!" Michelle insisted, still following them up the corridor, despite Ali's efforts to coax her back. "Please, I know her. Just let me sit with her, you won't have to force her…" She pushed, coming to a halt by the security doors, which they seemed hesitant to open with Michelle in tow.
"Look, I've just had stop her from jumping from the fire escape. I nearly went over it too!" Her voice trembled slightly but she forced back her tears and cleared her throat. "You can't just take her away from me before I've had a chance to see that she's alright." Michelle glanced up into the Doctor's face, her eyes wide and pleading. "Please… Please, I—" She broke off, glancing down the corridor to make sure Ali wasn't too close, before dropping her voice to a low murmur. "I love her."
He let out a heavy sigh, glancing at his colleague for a second.
"Okay. But you'll need to listen to me, alright?" He warned, and Michelle nodded earnestly in response. "If this starts to make her worse, or your safety is compromised, you'll be made to leave."
"I understand."
"And…" He hesitated, taking out his key card. "It's not going to be nice to see."
Michelle pressed her lips together, not trusting herself to speak to merely nodding once more. She was lead through the doors and the noise alone was enough to cause her chest to squeeze. Carla was definitely putting up some kind of a fight. She could hear her screaming, begging someone to let her go.
There were three other hospital staff in the room. One looked like she'd had a difficult time trying to take Carla's blood pressure; strands of her were falling from her elegant updo and her cheeks were slightly flushed as she tidied the equipment away. The other two were locked in a fight to hold a struggling Carla against the bed. Every time she made an attempt to push herself back up, they forced her back down and she could feel the panic rising in her throat. There was no escape. Someone was holding her down. Like last time. They were going to hurt her.
"Let me go! You can't do this!" She screamed out, but she was soon gasping for air, feeling the intense band of fear squeeze around her chest. "I can't… Breathe…"
The room seemed to be going silent but there was a very clear voice that rang out in her mind.
You were using me…Using me to make your boyfriend jealous. A smoke screen for your sordid little affair.
"NO!" Carla screamed out. She couldn't use her hands to clamp them over her ears because he was pinning her down.
"Stop it! Look at the state of her!" Michelle cried out; she was almost frozen with fear but managed to persuade her legs to carry her over to the bed.
Carla tried desperately to take in air, to shake the voice out of her head. She was going to pass out, she was sure of it, and then he'd be able to get her again.
"Carla… Carla, can you hear me?"
She looked up, her face sodden with tears, her eyes were so swollen it was a wonder she could see who was talking to her at all. She stopped struggling; her body still trembled violently as she stretched out a shaking hand.
"'Chelle?" She whispered, her voice cracking as she younger woman nodded. "Are you real…?"
Michelle reached across and gently wrapped her hand around Carla's. "I'm here…"
Carla let out a relieved sob and instantly moved towards her.
"No, let her." Michelle stopped the nurses from intervening. She held out her other arm and Carla practically flung herself into the other woman's lap. She was here and real and safe. It was the only thing she knew for sure. She clutched onto her desperately, crying so hard that she could barely force the words out.
"Don't—Don't leave me. Not again…" She gulped, moving to clutch the younger woman's face in her palms. "I need you." She brushed the tears that spilled down Michelle's cheeks. "No, don't cry…I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry—"
"You didn't hurt me…" Michelle reassured her. She touched her forehead to Carla's, a quiet sob escaping when the older brunette nudged their noses together, continuing to erase her tears with shaking hands.
"Don't let him get me, not again." Carla pleaded, her breath hitching again. "Don't leave me here…"
"Who?" Michelle asked, starting to run careful fingers through her hair. "Shh, it's okay. Tell me who you think will hurt you."
"Frank." She sobbed, her body quaking so violently that Michelle could barely hold her to keep her still. She could see the medic over her shoulder advancing on her, syringe in hand and she knew she needed to keep her calm.
"Listen to me, sweetheart." Michelle gently tilted her face. "I swear to you, there's no way he can hurt you—"
"Yes, he can! He never stopped!" The words were raw, her voice strained. Her throat ached from the force of her crying, the desperation of her words. "He's always been here."
"No one is going to hurt you, here. You're safe. I swear—"
Carla cut her off with a howl of frustration. She wrenched herself away from Michelle but suddenly found her bicep in the grip of one of the nurses. She didn't have change to pull away. She screamed out, felt the sting and then everything was rapidly clouding. Her head was light, fuzzy, her limbs suddenly heavy with fatigue. Michelle caught her as she dropped forward, cradling her while tears flowed heavily down her cheeks. She cried as Carla had, wracking, body-wrenching sobs and she fought slightly as the nurses tried to take Carla from her arms.
"No… No, I can't leave her like this…"
"Mum…"
She spun around. Ali was in the doorway. His brow was creased, he looked devastated. "Come on, she's in safe hands."
Very reluctantly, Michelle let her go, watched as she was settled into bed and the crisis team started fussing with charts and observations, muttering things she had no understanding of. She couldn't even try. She felt numb as Ali lead her out, down the corridor and to where Johnny and Peter were pacing anxiously.
"Michelle!" Johnny rushed up to her, concern plastered across his features. "Oh god, are you okay? What's happening with Carla? Oh you daft mare, come here." He wrapped his arms around her. "I don't know whether to shout at you or sing your praises." He sighed, rocking her gently. She wasn't crying anymore, but her face was growing pale.
"What?" She muttered, confused.
"You went up to save my daughter's life, but you risked your own. How can I—If I'd have lost either of you—" He cleared his throat, swiping quickly beneath his eyes. "I'm glad you're both okay."
"Peter stopped us falling." She muttered, clutching onto the reception desk for balance. Her legs were struggling to hold her. A wave of nausea washed over her and she closed her eyes, humming in discomfort.
"Hey, you stopped her from jumping." Peter put in, but it didn't look like she'd heard him.
"Michelle?"
Ali hurriedly grabbed one of the cardboard trays piled high on the reception desk and brought it under Michelle as she suddenly retched.
"Okay…" He mumbled soothingly. "That's enough for today, you need to go home—"
Michelle spat into the tray, shaking her head. "No, I need to stay—"
"Johnny." Ali said, his tone firm. "Take my mum home."
|X|X|X|
"Carla? Do you know why you were brought in yesterday?"
"Hmm?" Carla was curled up in the chair beside her bed, staring blankly out of the window. There was a man hobbling across the road with his stick. It looked like he was going to run out of time if he didn't get a wriggle on. Carla held her breath as he limped to the other side, releasing it when he'd made it just before the traffic lights changed.
"Carla, do you remember who I am? I introduced myself to you this morning."
"Some therapist." She shrugged, dropping her head into her hands. It ached. It had been there all day.
"Do you know why I'm here?"
Carla shrugged, anxiously picking at the skin around her thumbnail.
"I'm Doctor Lopez. You can call me Emma if you like."
"When can I get out of here?"
"Not for some time, I'm afraid." She sighed, lightly tapping her pen against the clipboard. "You need to stay here until your medication starts to work and we can get you booked in with a regular therapist—"
Carla shook her head. There was no way she was staying long term. "No, I don't want all that."
"You know you can't refuse treatment, Carla."
Carla felt her eyes fill and she was quick to blink them away. She wasn't going to let this woman see her in a state. The thought made her scoff to herself, as if she could look anymore of one. She knew her hair was rank and she was dressed in stiff, hospital pyjamas that were low quality and scratchy against her skin.
"The factory would have never made rubbish like this." She muttered, tugging distastefully at her shirt.
"The factory that collapsed?"
Carla glared at her.
"You need to speak to us, tell us when you started to feel like something bad was going to happen." The Doctor encouraged; her pen already poised. "Once we get to the bottom of it, we can get you the proper treatment and you can go."
"Can I have visitors?" Carla asked. Emma smiled at her.
"You've already got one."
"No, not you—" She began, not caring how rude she sounded. But Doctor Lopez didn't look phased. Instead she let out a gentle laugh.
"I don't mean me. I mean, there's someone waiting outside to see you. But visiting hours aren't for another fifteen minutes and you still haven't told me anything…"
"Fine." Carla snapped, slumping back against her chair. "Where do you want me to start?"
"Tell me what happened after the factory collapsed."
|X|X|X|
"How is she?" Michelle jumped up from her seat, a travel bag splayed across the other two.
"She's… Got a bit of a temper on her hasn't she, your friend?" The Doctor laughed light-heartedly, pulling out her card to swipe Michelle onto the ward.
"Yeah, she can be a bit… Snippy."
"Well she's done a bit of talking. It's something to go on. I need to relay the information back to my colleague and then we can decide on her treatment plan. Are you—Family?"
"Um—Cousins, sort of—" Michelle started, though winced as she said it. "Well not really…. We're close."
"Okay." She nodded. "Well there's tea and coffee facilities in the day room, but she's refused to sit in there so far."
Michelle picked up the bag she'd packed for her, one that had been searched thoroughly on her arrival. The tweezers had been removed from her toiletries; she hadn't really thought to check through it beforehand. There were lots of things she suddenly realised she'd have to think about.
Carla was sat crossed legged on her bed, picking absentmindedly at the corner of the blue blanket that adorned her bed. She was waiting for a supposed visitor. Or maybe the Doctor had been lying, maybe no one wanted to see her, and she'd just been trying to sweeten her up to talk.
Probably. They're all really disappointed you're still here.
Carla scoffed to herself. They didn't bother her now. Not when she felt fuzzy. She could hear them, but they didn't scare her anymore.
"Michelle tried to save me." She shrugged.
"Carla?"
She looked up quickly. She was right there, right by her door. But Michelle had a slight frown across her face; she supposed being caught muttering to herself wasn't the most reassuring of welcomes.
"'Chelle?"
The younger woman nodded, taking a step into the room. "I, uh… I'm really here…"
"I know." Carla snapped, though she hadn't intended to. She wasn't completely senile. Not now. Not now they didn't scare her.
Michelle looked hesitant for a moment, almost like she was afraid, and Carla felt her heart sink.
"I won't bite."
"Hey, I know—"
"You're looking at me like the rest of them. Like you're so sorry I'm crazy." She bit out.
"Oi!" Michelle raised her brow, taking a couple of bolder steps towards her. "I do not think you're crazy."
"Quack's say otherwise." She mumbled, though was glancing at the younger brunette with sorry eyes. She was relieved to see her. Even though part of her wanted to just be left alone, she craved the familiarity, that one piece of reality she knew she could cling to whenever Michelle was around. Carla suddenly shrank back on herself, shoulder's hunched. A sob scaped from her mouth. Mostly, she just wanted to go home.
"Hey," Michelle whispered, hastening to place the bag she was holding safely on the ground. "Come here, come here…"
She was about to take another step towards her, but Carla leapt up from the bed and rushed over to her, throwing her arms around her frame.
"Oh, I'm so glad to see you…" Michelle whispered, squeezing her tightly. Carla held on just as fiirm, swaying their bodies.
"Don't let go yet." Carla murmured, and Michelle had to fight back the emotion that suddenly rose in her throat. She clutched her tighter.
"I never want to let you go again." She whispered, though pulled back slightly so she could study her face. "I thought I'd lost you."
"I'm sorry I put you in danger."
Michelle shook her head, taking Carla's face between her palms. "Hey, listen. None of this is your fault. "I'd follow you up a hundred fire escapes… But I'd rather it wasn't a regular occurrence." She offered her a gentle smile, trying to show her she wasn't the slightest bit upset with her. Upset for her was a different story. She leant forward and kissed her forehead. "All that matters is you're safe now. You know what, don't you? You're safe here…"
Carla turned away. Safer here than at home is what she meant, and this was the last place she wanted to be.
"I really don't want to be here. I want to be at home."
"I know," Michelle picked up the bag she'd packed and brought it over to the bed. "Believe me, I can't wait for you to be able to come home either. Kate's gone back to her flat, so you've left me alone to handle Jenny." She attempted to joke. Carla managed a weak smile. "She keeps offering me tea and a listening ear, and Mamma Mia on loop."
Carla sat at on the edge of the bed, peering at the contents of the bag when Michelle unzipped it. The younger woman pulled out a pair of neatly folded pyjamas that she recognised as her own. "I thought you'd prefer these." She offered them to her, and Carla took them gratefully. She felt the comforting softness of the fabric; inhaled the familiar scent of home on them.
"They smell like you." Carla mumbled.
"Well, we're using the same washing powder now, aren't we? We all actually smell like Jenny." She teased, but it seemed laughter was still a stretch too far for the older brunette, who just continued to graze her fingertips over the soft cotton. "They um… Took most of your toiletries from me. Said they provided them."
"Can't even sneeze here without someone knowing about it." Carla muttered bitterly. "It's like being a child. And there's nothing I can do about it. How can they do this? How?" She started to pace the room, the pyjamas tumbling from her lap onto the floor.
"Carla—" Michelle picked them up again.
"I just—I can't stay here. I feel trapped, I—" She could feel herself started to panic again, that same squeezing feeling in her chest, and every time she felt like this… They came, too. "No, no, no, please not again…" She whimpered, throwing her hands over her ears in anticipation. "Don't…"
"Hey, hey…" Michelle was at her side then, a firm arm around her waist, leading her towards the bed. "Just sit down a second, you're okay, deep breaths." She whispered. "I'm here, you're safe. There's no one in this room other than me and you."
She felt the younger woman place a hand on her knee, squeezing gently and she focused on the contact, breathed when Michelle told her to.
"I'm dizzy."
"It's because you're panicked, that's all. Just concentrate on your breathing, you'll feel better I promise." She assured her, running a gentle hand over her hair. Never before had she wanted to fix something so badly, even though she knew it couldn't be. Michelle had felt heartbreak a million times over, but nothing quite like this.
Carla leant into her. She had her eyes closed, but she could feel the nausea ebbing away now. "I'm exhausted, 'Chelle…" She whispered.
"I'm not surprised." Michelle sighed, patting her back gently. "Come on, get your fancy PJ's on and you can get into bed."
She stayed on the outside as Carla drew the curtains, but stayed chatting to her as she changed. Carla liked that she didn't expect her to take part in it, she just jabbered on about Jenny's weak tea and her heel getting caught on a cobbled stone and nearly sending her tumbling and how she'd made plans with Roy to sneak butties onto the ward for her if the food was dire. When she pulled the curtain back, she saw that Michelle had settled herself into the chair by her bed.
"Ah, that's more like you isn't it?"
Carla nodded, bunching her sleeves over her hands, and inhaling the comforting scent again. She pulled back the corner of her blanket and slid into bed.
"I've brought you some magazines—"
"Will you lay with me?" Carla asked. She twisted the corner of the blanket between nervous fingertips. It was as though she was worried Michelle somehow saw her differently after the previous day.
Michelle set down the pile she'd been arranging on the bedside table, tilting her head. After the last time Carla had ended up in hospital, she really hadn't expected her to want her company. She was about to get up from her seat when the door swung open and a cheerful looking nurse walked in, wheeling in a trolley. She looked around late fifties, with kind, creased face, and a fuzzy, grey bun on top of her head, from which flyaway candyfloss strands of hair had escaped. She smiled warmly at the pair.
"Hiya, love. Carla, isn't it?" She nodded, flipping through some papers on a clipboard. She ran her finger down the list. "Carla… Carla Connor…Ah, there you are." She scribbled something down and tucked the clipboard beneath her arm, before plucking a paper cup from the trolley.
"Medication." She said, holding it out to her.
Carla winced, reluctantly taking it from her. Her hands shook slightly as she pressed the two pills against her tongue. Every part of her was protesting against it; the nausea, the numbness, the dizzying fug of it all to come. She accepted a glass of water that Michelle had poured for her and swallowed it down.
"I've got to check, love." The nurse told her apologetically, moving around to get a better look at her. Carla reluctantly tipped her chin and opened her mouth. "Lift your tongue for me… That's perfect… Great." She nodded, satisfied that she'd swallowed the medication.
Carla closed her eyes, willing herself to keep it together. It was back again, that feeling of being stuck, a stark reminder that her life was no longer her own. Everyone around her treat her like she couldn't be trusted, and she supposed she couldn't. She couldn't even trust her own judgement. She didn't even realise there were tears on her face until Michelle's hands gently wiped them away.
"You're doing so good, darlin'."
Carla shook her head. She felt the bed dip and opened her eyes; Michelle had moved to sit beside her.
"I'm a mess. Everything's a mess. I don't know who I am anymore." She whispered. Michelle stretched out her arm and Carla shuffled beneath it, curling into her side.
"You're Carla Connor." Michelle told her gently, pulling her closer until she was half in her lap and started to stroke over her hair. "You're a bit of a nightmare at times, but you know, out of the entire seven point five billion people on this planet… I reckon you're my favourite one."
|X|X|X|
"I've told you; I don't want to talk!" Carla shouted, childishly turning her head away so she wouldn't have to look at the Doctor. "I'm sick of talking! You're making me worse. You're making me think about it."
"Carla, I know this is difficult for you." Doctor Lopez sympathised, shuffling her seat slightly so she could try and catch her eye. "And you've done really well so far, seriously you've been brave to talk about—"
"Oh, pack it in." Carla snarled, crossing her arms over her chest. "Patronising me. I'm forty-five!"
"Okay, well then you know why you have to do this. You need to process what happened to you. These things are triggering your anxiety and that's what causes your psychotic—"
"Flamin' 'ell it's like Groundhog Day." Carla huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm sick of raking over the past, I'm sick of—of these mood sheets!" She snatched the one she'd been filling out all week and scrunched it up, tossing it to the floor. "I'm sick of being asked the same things. 'How did you feel when your fiancé raped you, Carla?' How the hell do you think I felt?" She shouted now, raising herself from her seat. I felt… Disgusted, hurt, angry, upset, betrayed, like I could never trust anyone again…And guilty, like I had it coming to me for having an affair. So much guilt…and shame… Like after Aidan died and I couldn't save him and—and Rana—" She broke off, dropping her head into her hands. "I feel so guilty…" She bit her lip, but was unable to stop the whimper that escaped.
"All I've done is brought misery to everyone in my life who ever dared to love me…" It was as though realisation had hit her all over again, she was overcome with a rush of grief. "I'm sorry…Sorry I don't want to talk anymore—"
"No, no that's okay. You've done enough for today. Thank you, Carla." The Doctor nodded. "Do you want me to send your visitor in now or do you need a moment?" She asked, watching the other woman pluck a tissue from the dispenser on the bedside table and dab at her face."
"Visitor? Oh I don't really think I'm up to seeing anyone." She mumbled, despite the fact she'd been looking forward to having other company for two days now.
"Well, forgive me for ruining the surprise. In fact, act shocked when they come in, but…" She trailed off, a little glint in her eye and Carla narrowed her own.
"What?"
"They've brought flowers."
"Fl—Oh… Peter…" She sighed to herself, nodding gently. "Okay… Well, just give me a second to sort my face out."
She scrubbed the tissue over her face once more, though she knew her skin would be clean. She didn't have any make-up on to smear. That was another thing she was starting to miss. She had never felt less like herself. She really didn't feel up to seeing Peter, but it had felt rude to turn him down if he'd gone out of his way to pop up. That said, he might have just had a drop off nearby…
"Carla, are you alright?" Michelle's concerned voice from the doorway caused Carla to look up in shock.
"Oh. It's you. I thought you were Peter."
"Yeah I—Were you expecting him?" She asked, her face falling slightly at Carla's apparent disappointment.
"No, that's why I was so confused." Carla smiled. Michelle's shoulders went from tense to relaxed. "It's just when the nurse said I had flowers, I assumed…"
Her eyes fell to the ones Michelle was carrying in her arms. The younger woman shifted slightly, almost looking nervous. "It was me." She stated, unnecessarily. "I brought you flowers…"
"Well, I can see that now." Carla laughed, and then her stomach flipped when she realised it was probably the first time she had done so in a long time. She carefully took them from Michelle and inspected the bouquet. They were elegant, splashes of red between white and pastel yellow, cheerful enough without looking too garish. "They're pretty." She smiled, taking them over to the plastic water jug by her bed. She'd probably be in trouble for using it as a vase, but she didn't want them to start drooping. "Summery…" She commented, tweaking a few of the leafy bits to arrange them more aesthetically to her liking. "I like the greenery." She commented, turning to Michelle and narrowing her eyes slightly, as though scrutinising her.
"What?" Michelle frowned, puzzled, though her eyes still had a happy little glint in them due to Carla having liked the flowers.
Carla reached out and tilted her chin slightly. "They're the same colour as that little band of it in your eyes."
Michelle pressed her lips together, averting her gaze to the floor as a coy smile crept to her lips. She'd not realised just how warm it felt in the room until then. She cleared her throat, opening her mouth to make a response that hadn't yet formed in her brain, but Carla suddenly took her hand and pulled her towards the bed.
"Come on, tell me what I'm missing." She demanded, patting the space beside her. "How's… Everyone? What've you been up to? How's work?"
Michelle settled onto the bed next to her. Carla's head fell against her chest and she wrapped an arm across her waist, curling into her contently.
"They're… going the same as always." The younger woman shrugged, weaving her fingers into the older brunette's hair. "Almost. We all miss you…"
Carla glanced up at her.
"Kate said she wants to come and see you."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I think she's coming up when Johnny next visits."
Carla was unsure whether she felt pleased or terrified at the news. She missed her sister, though, and it would probably put her mind at some sort of ease if they started making amends.
"How're you, anyway? You looked upset…"
"I had a bit of a meltdown before." She mumbled, closing her eyes for a moment when Michelle's fingertips began making soothing circles in her hair. "It's just going over things, constantly. It puts things in your head, things you didn't even realise were still stuck up there."
"Well, it's probably a good thing for you to get them out."
"You sound like my shrink… She's a nag an' all." Carla tormented, and Michelle let out a louder laugh, her chest warming instantly. That's what she'd missed, a little of the old Carla. "But… it's when I think about things. I panic and then—It's like it suddenly gets really loud in my head, all the thoughts and I know they're coming, I know I'll hear something and then I start panicking because I'm panicking and I don't want to because that's what causes these… Episodes." She finished, letting out a long breath. She looked worried for a moment, as though she'd revealed too much, or that Michelle might think she was really round the twist. But the younger woman was listening to her with a softened eyes and genuine interest, like she wanted to know for more than having something to gossip about in the pub at the end of the day.
Michelle's other hand had found hers and she'd been circling her thumb over the back of it while Carla spoke. Her gentle actions had been soothing, Carla realised.
"It sounds terrifying." Michelle admitted, resting her chin at the top of her head. "You're made of strong stuff you, darlin', getting through all this. And you will, you know?" She assured her, making the other woman look up. "That's one thing I'm certain of, you'll soon know how to manage this."
There was so much sincerity in her expression, it made her eyes cloud slightly. Carla blinked the moisture away and reached up to stroke down her cheek. "Hmm, it's probably in your best interests that I get out of here sooner rather than later."
"How do you mean?"
"Well…" Carla's eyes flickered over to where her flowers were. "I want a bunch of those each time you come and see me, now.
"Ah, I see." Michelle nodded, leaning in to touch a kiss against her forehead. She let her lips linger there. "Well, if it makes you feel better, then I can definitely do that. You just have to promise me that you'll keep fighting to get better for me, okay?"
Carla nodded, tucking her head beneath her chin once more to cuddle into her.
"Deal."
a/n: Thank you for reading! This is so hard to write and there's definitely still a long way to go and so much more to come! Slowburn itself is a challenge for me, nevermind such a sensitive storyline. It's going to be a bumpy ride for them both. Big shoutout to Han (thelyricsaremystory; I'm sure you're reading her work too!) for helping me get my bearings around the street and assuring me that we all love drama!
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The next chapter will contain sensitive themes.