This was it. After 13 years of putting his liver through the ringer, dozens of AA meetings attended, countless repeats of the 12 steps, too many relationships broken and repaired (and then broken again) and hundreds of pints, singles, doubles and bottles to numb whatever was too painful to cope with at the time. That was what it took to give Peter the most challenging sixth months of he'd ever known, watching his life slip away, but holding onto the love of his life.

And neither of them was going to let go any time soon. Carla had been cradling Peter's frail hands ever since she arrived at his bedside. Each time she saw just how yellow they had become she always got a sudden sharp pain in the pit of her stomach, a constant reminder of this illness taking over her husband. But maybe today she could finally get him back.

Neither of them had really spoken. Not in an awkward way. Just, what are you meant to say? Only the steady beeps of a heartrate monitor echoed around the all too familiar sterile four walls of the room at the transplant center. Carla wondered if she'd break the machine with the rate her heart was beating at- her nerves were shot.

"This doesn't feel real." Peter, also with a break in his voice, had broken the silence, too overwhelmed to gather any other thoughts.

"Hhhhhmm" Carla gave Peter a little grin that brought out her dimples, "Well it's not exactly what I'd call a luxury honeymoon." They both giggled, yet deep down Peter felt a weight of guilt about tainting their marriage with his health (well…lack of health) Peter decided to carry on with the joke. They had a funny kind of sarcasm that only them two really understood.

"Well, I dunno, we've got our very own room, help at the press of a button" Carla smiled at the high spirits he seemed to be in "And besides, anywhere is perfect as long as I have you."

"You'll always have me" Carla attempted to push down the lump in her throat- he might always have her, but she began to realize she might not always have him.

"And I guess instead of tan lines, I'll just come back with a scar…" Peter paused slightly to process the potential months of recovery and changes to his body he was about to endure. "Oh, and I hear you come away with a pretty good souvenir too." He gave Carla a little wink, yet his signature charm and charisma brought on a wave of emotion for Carla. She longed for the moments where she saw glimpses of Peter's spark. Her Peter. Over the last few months, his deteriorating health had snatched away the man she fell in love with (more than once) and replaced him with a shell of his old self. This was all too apparent when she discovered the broken man and told him the lifesaving news earlier that day.

Flashback

Carla mindlessly searched the cobbles, desperately looking for Peter before it was all too late. She had just received the phone call (16 minutes ago to be precise) from the transplant center that a suitable liver had been found for her husband. Her mind had been flooded with relief from the stress of her future with Peter being an unknown, but was soon overtaken with panic and anxiety. If she couldn't find him in the next 44 minutes, the liver would be gone, along with Peter's possible chance of survival. Despite Peter remaining hopeful, Carla knew that he was slipping away from her and this was their last hope.

She had already checked their flat, the café where they shared breakfast together and even the Rovers (old habits die hard I guess). She was too anxious to appreciate the irony of Peter doing a disappearing act the day a new liver had been found, when for the last few months, he had been glued to the armchair of another one of his "distraction" jigsaws, which Carla had begun to resent. But then she suddenly realized exactly where he'd be. In fact, he had reserved to be here at this time. Earlier that morning he surprised her with a lunch date invite to the Bistro. Carla questioned the spontaneous romantic gesture on a Monday morning, but he soon reminded her that he hadn't forgotten the loss they shared 7 years ago. Guilt was something that these two had in common, along with complicated relationships with alcohol, of course.

Clasping a glass of water between his trembling hands, Peter's irregular breath was beginning to quicken. With his health deteriorating so rapidly, even the short walk to the Bistro was enough to exhaust him. He attempted to lift himself up, but his body became too weak and his legs collapsed under the pressure as his illness began to take over control of his body. He was luckily able to grab hold of the table for support, gradually lowering into his chair. But as he did so, the room started the spin and his vision became blurrier, however he could recognize the distinct black silhouette of his wife rushing into the bistro and instantly to his side.

"Peter it's me. It's okay I'm here now, I'm not going anywhere. Okay darlin?" Carla reassured her husband, her voice quivering with the emotion from seeing the state he had fallen victim to again. She crouched down by his side so he was able to focus on her piercing green eyes. Even when the whole world seemed blurry to him, her eyes were crystal clear.

"Peter, listen to me darlin'" her hand gently stroking his arm reassuringly, "They've found a match for you". Saying the words out loud made Carla realize that this was really happening, forming tears in her eyes.

"What…?" Peter whispered breathlessly in confusion, out of both lack of belief and a genuine struggle to remain in consciousness.

"Mmmhhmm" Carla nodded, now not being able to hold back her tears, "It's really happening 'luv". They both shared a deep and emotional look between each other, overwhelmed as to how surreal this all felt. "C'mon darlin' we need to get you to that transplant center" she reached out for his hands to support him up, "otherwise they're gonna give that liver to some other poor old alchie."

This rare piece of hopeful news was enough to give Peter's fragile body the strength to get to his feet, but quickly lost balanced and stumbled into Carla's arms. He wanted to apologize for being such a burden to Carla, but simply breathing took up all this effort.

"Don't worry, ey. I've got you. I've always got you".

"Ey 'luv, would you look after this for me?" Peter reached over and pointed to the notebook sat on the table next to his bed. It was clear the notebook had been thoroughly used- the spine was cracked, several pages were aimlessly poking out the sides and the book was given height by several crumpled pages, as if the original ideas weren't good enough and there had been an attempt to scribble or remove the imperfections.

"All the numbers for your secret lady friends? Want me to break the news to 'em that Captain Barlow might not be stopping at their port any time soon?" She gave him a cheeky smirk in order to reassure him that she was only pulling his arm. Somehow making sarcastic digs at each other's previous love life seemed to be their love language- and there was plenty of history to pick from. However, it reminded Carla to keep the Barlows updated on Peter. Regardless of what the troubled family had endured, they endured it together and were concerned and apprehensive about this procedure and vowed to be right by his side. This was metaphorical, of course, there were only a restricted number of people permitted in the transplant center.

"No don't be silly. Got rid of that book a long time ago" Carla let out a small giggle "It's just a few scribbles of ideas I've got. I was thinking about the scar, you know when it heals? I wanna get it tattooed" Somehow the idea of Peter being so optimistic and looking to the future reassured Carla that he had the strength to get through this- a defiance that was completely absent only a few months ago. "Ey, maybe we could get matching ones for our transplant scars?" Peter's eyes lit up at the thought of having this special connection with his wife, however Carla's eyes, instead filled with concern and dread, said otherwise, making Peter chuckle.

"I think I'll just stick to the matching rings and surname for now old husbandy one" Carla gazed down to the silver band around her ring finger, she still couldn't quite believe she was Mrs Barlow again after all these years.

"That's if…if I get through this" Peter's tone had switched to one of defeat as he dropped his gaze, fearful of giving Carla too much hope, when he knew the frightening reality of the procedure he was about to endure.

For a moment Carla just simply watched the man she loved lay in front of her, processing the possibility of this goodbye being their last, a thought that filled both their eyes with tears but both fighting the urge to let them fall at the risk of not being strong for the other.

"Darlin', you are gonna get through this." Carla said with conviction, despite not fully believing the statement herself. "Okay? And when you do, we're gonna do some stuff" Peter was yet to respond to Carla or alter his downward gaze. "We're gonna go on sunny holidays and walk across sandy beaches watching the sunset, and go on long country walks around the dales and stop off for pub lunches…" Carla hesitated, realizing the sensitivity of this current situation. However, upon pausing, Carla realized that Peter had in fact not being listening to her, but instead was trapped in his own thoughts of not making it through the surgery.

"Peter…look at me" even her gentle whisper crumbled under the pressure of her emotions "Please darlin'…just look at me" As she squeezed his hand gently, his eyes reluctantly, slowly met hers, already feeling the comfort of her reassurance. "You will get through this. I promise you. You'll stay strong for me, and Si and your family. Cause we need you…I need you" The thought of not being able to cope or survive in a world where Peter didn't exist caused the tears to escape and cascade down Carla's rounded cheekbones (luckily she wore waterproof mascara that day).

"I'm so sorry 'luv…" Peter stared at a fragile Carla; a sight that always brought him concern, but this time also guilt. His tone was filled with disappointment and apology, similar to when he broke the news to Carla that he wasn't getting better and need a transplant, only this time he felt more ashamed of what he was putting the love of his life through.

"Don't even say that" Carla whispered "It's not your fault, well unless you're keeping the tissues to yourself"

"No, I mean for putting you through all this. I know I've been selfish all my life, but putting you through all this pain might be the most selfish thing I've ever don-"

"No Peter, that's not true…" Carla removed her hands from Peter's to wipe away her tears as she proceeded to compose herself "I knew what I was getting myself into, alright? I made a promise to you. To always be by your side to hold your hand, in sickness and in health…till death do us…" Finishing the sentence brought her too much pain, instead pushing back the lump in her throat, with Peter letting out a sigh of defeat.

"I don't just mean me liver packing in 'luv. I mean for everything I've put you through because of my drinking. Every fight I said things I didn't mean so I could drink. Every sleepless night you had, wondering if I was dead in some gutter" Carla closed her eyes as her mind became flooded with memories of their relationship that she chose to bury "I don't know how you've managed to put up with me all these years" Peter whispered, shaking his head in shame.

"Because I loved, and I still love you, and will always love you no matter what Pe'er" She shrugged as if it was the most obvious answer.

"How could you have loved me when I put you on edge every time I popped out for some milk at Dev's cause I might pick up a bottle of booze instead. Or having to check I'd gone to a meeting instead of making a detour to the local offie" Peter's regret about everything he had put his wife through all these years became too much as his eyes grew redder and he could no longer hold back his tears from all the shame.

"Peter, I knew you were a flamin' alchie when I met ya. I mean for goodness sake, do you not remember where all of this started?"

"Of course I do"

"Exactly, Peter" she leant forward towards him, her eyes meeting his that were filled with guilt "I knew the kind of man I was falling in love with…a wreck. Just like me" They both shared a short smile at the mess both them and their relationship had always been in, yet neither of them would have wanted it any other way.

Peter gently caressed Carla's cheek in the palm of his hand, a feeling so comforting and familiar to Carla- Like the two parts of their bodies were built to fit each other. "I'm so sor-"

"No Peter, you don't-"

"Please Carla…" His voice filling with desperation as he began to stroke away the tears that were slowly trailing down Carla's cheek "If this is the last time, I need to do this. I can't go without saying this to you"

"Okay" Carla whispered as she held onto the hand that rested on her cheek.

"I'm so sorry Carla…for everything"

"It's okay…" Carla whispered between tears "…I forgive you Peter" Peter's relief overtook his body as he removed his hand from her cheek to cover his own face as he broke down.

"But if you get the chance to say sorry, can I get the chance to say thank you?"

"What for 'luv…?" Peter shook his head in confusion, with the genuine belief that she had nothing to thank him for.

"For everything. For saving me…more than once" Carla grabbed Peter's hand "For making me believe in love again. It's not easy being everyone's rock, but even a rock needs someone to give them strength. And I know I may seem strong, but you know that's just an act really, but somehow you helped me break down my walls. Thank you for finding the real me: the mentally unstable me, the borderline alcoholic me, the emotional wreck me. Thank you for loving me."

Carla leaned over and gently kissed Peter's forehead, "I think you're a star" stroking his hair simultaneously, before lightly leaning her forehead against his, as the two soulmates gazed into each other's eyes.

"Well, it wasn't too difficult" Peter's charming yet soft undertone had reappeared.

"Hhmm, well you certainly left it long enough before you finally gave in" They both shared a reserved laugh to themselves as Carla sat back on her chair that was a few mere inches away from Peter's bedside.

"Says the one who didn't admit to their feelings until I was almost sailing halfway round the world" Peter gave Carla a small smirk, knowing that they were just as bad as each other.

"Yeah well, like I said in my very well thought out wedding vows"

"Mmmhhmm" Peter sarcastically nodded in response to Carla's comment, which carried the same undertone, both knowing full well how spontaneous Carla's vows were.

"Every little mistake has got us right here to where we need to be" Carla recalled reluctantly, knowing that this wasn't exactly the most ideal situation, for Peter in particular.

"It's okay 'luv" Peter clearly recognizing Carla's deflation at the thought of potentially upsetting him "We always knew it were gonna come to this. Ey come here 'luv…" Peter slowly stretched out his open hand towards Carla, inviting her hand to join his. She placed her hand in Peter's as he wrapped his fingers around hers, almost in protection "And I think since you got to recite your vows, it's only fair I get to finish mine…since ya' know hypotension and hypoglycemia had other thoughts last time."

"Hhhmm, and here's me thinking all this was your way of trying to get yourself out of this marriage"

"Well…not unless the nurse is a pretty brunette" Peter smirked, giving Carla a wink.

"Not unless there's a blunt instrument lying around" Carla returned both the sarcastic comment and the wink, met with a sneaky giggle from Peter. "I guess I should shut my mouth and let the groom do the honors, I believe you left it at how lucky you were to be marrying a woman like me" Carla commented smugly.

"Er yeah…" Peter took a breath as he gathered his composure, reaching out to hold both Carla's hands in his.

"Carla…" He paused momentarily, as if saying her name alone was powerful enough to move him. His wife's teary eyes gave him a look of encouragement. "The first time I saw you, I thought you were so beautiful I nearly laughed out loud" Carla shyly smiled to herself as her cheeks blushed- she appreciated the reference that had always been so fitting to their rollercoaster relationship. "And when I saw you getting caught for drink driving, heading to bank meetings half-cut and solving all your problems with a bottle or two of Merlot…I knew you were the one for me. And when I fell in love with you…I knew you were my soulmate." Tears began to trickle down Carla's cheek, with Peter gently wiping away each one with the pad of his thumb. "I didn't know whether or not I should make any promises. Not just because I can't promise you much right now, but because I was foolish enough to break them last time. But I realized… you didn't need me to be your shelter or to keep you warm, you're strong enough without me" Carla's face drew with concern with the realization that Peter could be letting her go. "I'm afraid right now all I can promise is that, for as long or as short as I live, I'll be the Burton to your Taylor. And I hope you can accept me for that…"

"I do"

Carla and Peter continued to simply gaze into each other's eyes whilst gripping onto each other, not wanting to ever let go. Neither of them said anything, yet they communicated their love for each other nonetheless. Neither of them knew how long they stayed like this. Time slowed down when it was just the two of them; it didn't matter. Anyway, it wasn't as if time was on their side. Eventually, their connection was interrupted by a nurse knocking on the door and entering Peter's room, causing the two of them to slowly break away from each other and cast their full attention to the medical professional.

"Peter Barlow? We're ready for you in theatre."

Peter gave a small nod towards the nurse with a brief smile before turning to face Carla, with a sudden look of worry and anxiety as his heart began to quicken and the butterflies swarmed his stomach.

"I'm right here, you know?" Carla whispered, gently giving a reassuring smile as she held onto Peter's hand.

"I know…" Peter's other hand reached up to the left side of his chest. "Always, with me, even when you're not" his voice beginning to break as fear attempted to get the better of him.

"Mmmhhmm" Carla softly nodded as tears began to fill her eyes too.

Peter pulled Carla in for one last kiss, both wanting it to be gentle yet meaningful. As Carla pulled only a few inches away so they could still feel each other's breath on their skin, her hand remained cradling Peter's head, with his hand rested upon her arm.

"Are you ready, Mr Barlow?" A second nurse had entered the room to assist transporting Peter to surgery.

Peter's eyes, filled with apprehension, looked to Carla's for reassurance. All it took was a small smile from Carla; Peter knew he was ready. He nodded, whilst looking at Carla "Yeah…I'm ready". A single tear fell down Carla's cheek, this time simply allowing it to fall as she kissed Peter on the forehead and whispered, "I love you Peter Barlow".

"I love you too"

Carla reluctantly pulled away from her husband, enabling the nurses the prepare Peter's exit, not wanting to look away from each other's eyes.

"Hey…keep this safe for me 'luv" Peter removed the silver band from his ring finger and handed it towards Carla, who placed it on her own and held onto it tightly.

"Always"

"Okay, we're all ready to go" one of the nurses announced as they started to wheel Peter's bed down to theatre. As they began to do so, Peter waved his index finger towards Carla, with her returning the endearing goodbye.

"See ya…", Carla's voice overflowing with emotion.

"Not if I see you first…" Peter smiled and winked at Carla as he turned the corner towards the operating theatre. Carla suddenly realized she was standing in the room alone, and suddenly everything was so quiet. For months everything had been so chaotic and uncertain: her relationship with Peter, Peter's deteriorating health, her feelings of guilt and anxiety. But now everything was out of their hands, with Carla now feeling more helpless than ever, as the dreaded thought came into Carla's mind that she could feel this lonely forever. But Peter was a fighter, and with a second chance of a life with Carla on the line, this was a battle he knew he had to win- for him and for her.

"Yes Daniel, well as I said to Adam and Tracy 10 minutes ago, Peter's got just over an hour left in surgery. Do you not all have some sort of Barlow group chat?...oh wait, yeah, I was in that zoom call- probably better off not, ey?" Carla was stood at the coffee machine in the waiting room, making her umpteenth coffee of the past 7 hours, whilst on the phone to yet another Barlow giving updates about Peter, which felt like the only thing she had been doing all night.

"Well like I said to Ken, you should probably get some sleep. There's no point in everyone having a sleepless night fretting, especially when you've got little Bertie to look after…yes Daniel of course I'll let you know if there's any news, just join the queue with the rest of that family of yours…okay, bye" Despite Peter's family often testing Carla's patience, especially tonight, she appreciated the strong family unit Peter had surrounding him, and now her. But her mind kept thinking about the devastating blow it would have on the family if they were to loose Peter: Ken would suffer the loss of yet another child, Daniel, who would not only undoubtedly feel an immense sense of guilt for not being a match, would lose another person he loved so soon after coming to terms with the grief of Sinead, Adam would lose the closest thing he has left to his mum and would be haunted by the guilt of not getting tested to be a doner, Simon would lose his dad as well as his mum without having the chance to say goodbye and Tracy, Steve and Amy would be now mourning the death of both Oliver and Peter.

Carla placed a lid on her coffee and took it back to where she had been sitting for now exactly seven hours. She had tried to distract herself with work and of course keeping the Barlows updated, yet her mind always wondered to feelings of anxiety, fear, but most dominantly, guilt.

Even though Peter had expressed his forgiveness to Carla for sleeping with Adam on multiple occasions, she couldn't help but think…what if? What if she hadn't have slept with Adam? What if she had never told Peter she had cheated on him? What if Adam had never told Peter it was him? What if she had never even left the room that night to go to the hotel? If one thing had been different, would Carla be shaking with nerves in the waiting room whilst Peter was lying unconscious under the knife? And Carla knew all too well that this was an illness that Peter, or anyone for that matter, had no control of. If Peter was going to drink, he would have found a way to do so, and eventually, maybe they would have always landed in these positions. But Carla's guilt couldn't help but trace back to every time Peter had drunk and wondered if she could've done more. Taken the bottle off him sooner, not pushed him to a point where he needed a drink, taken the glass and smashed it against the wall. Anything. Sometimes she thought he would've been better without her at all. After all, two car crashes make one big pile up. But they were both a mess, and they couldn't live without each other. Carla couldn't change the past, but she knew she would do everything in her power to help, save and protect Peter in the future. After all, she couldn't bare it if Peter wasn't part of her life, if he wasn't part of her.

Attempting to discreetly conceal a yawn, Carla reached over to her bag on the seat next to her, opening it to try and locate her pocket mirror. After all, she didn't want Peter's first sight after waking up from surgery to be the mascara smudged around her eyes and her matted hair. As she rummaged around, she grabbed hold of Peter's notebook- the one filled with his tattoo ideas. Despite not having any herself, Carla had always taken an interest in Peter's tattoos- and not just because they were all on display when he was topless- and she had a particular fascination with what his ideas were for a tattoo that would represent such a huge aspect of him as a person. She decided to flick through the pages, gently smoothing out any that had been slightly creased, taking in Peter's hand-crafted designs.

The phoenix rising from the ashes seemed rather fitting with the strength, courage and determination Peter had shown whilst coping the last few months, along with a fitting metaphor for Carla and Peter's relationship. Carla liked the simplicity of the pair of angel wings- mind you, with both suffering so much loss in their lives, she struggled to decipher what exactly they represented. Of course, the old sailor had an anchor design sketched out, which made Carla chuckle. Initially she had been slightly confused about a design that was simply a set of footprints, however after some counting, she came to the realization that they were the "12 steps" Peter was all too familiar with. Carla had always felt as if she had been walking those 12 steps with Peter, but had never seemed to get anywhere and sometimes even had to watch him take steps backwards, which made her realize how a successful outcome tonight would allow both of them to take a significant step forward into the future. Into their future.

As she flicked through the rest of the notebook, a loose page fell out onto the floor by Carla's feet. As she carefully picked it up, its crumpled state and ink smudges were instantly apparent, almost as if tears had leaked into the ink. She only had to read the first line to realize that this was a letter from Peter addressed to her. Despite not having read what Peter had to say, all the hairs on her body raised and the tears, that had only recently been controlled, were appearing in her eyes once again. Carla instantly questioned when this letter was written. Was it at the same time Peter wrote his suicide note to Simon all the way back in January, or had he been prepared for this moment since he found out he required a transplant? Carla was hesitant to continue reading, after all, Peter had never specified for her to read it. But she knew that, whatever happened, Peter would've wanted Carla to know the contents of what was written in the letter. So, with the damaged piece of paper clutched in Carla's trembling hands, she proceeded to read on:

To My Carla,

You know I'm not very good with words but I've tried for you. I don't know how many versions of this I've written and thrown away already. I just want it to be perfect. How can I speak to you when the thought of you alone takes my breath away? How can I tell you how much I love you and how much you mean to me when there will never be enough words- and if there are, they're far too clever for me. I just hope this is enough for you to understand how much I care about you.

I know I've made a lot of mistakes and I hate that some of those hurt you, but it was never a mistake falling in love with you. I know at the time it might not have seemed like it, but you made me into a better man and I will always be so grateful for that. And thank you for saving me from myself- you made me realize that life is worth living, especially if I get to live it with you, and Simon. Promise me you'll look out for him. I know the two of you had a rocky start, but I know he adores you. I'm sorry I took away your chance to be a mum, but when I see how amazing you are with Si and Bertie, I just know you would've made an incredible mum.

I'm sorry if it's too late. I'm sorry I gave into the fight too easily. If I'm being honest, I'm terrified. I don't want to die; I don't want to leave you.

And because I know you more than anyone else, I know that you'll blame yourself, but none of this is your fault. So, for me, can you please forgive yourself? But can you also promise me that you'll never pretend to be okay? After all, finding help could help you find love. Carla, I want you to be happy in a world without me, and I know you don't want to hear this but I'm letting you go. Because you'll always be here with me.

Carla, it's always been you, You'll always be my beautiful, powerful, strong woman.

All my love, always.

Your Peter x

Carla's tears, that had once threatened to fall prior to reading the letter, were now cascading down her cheeks uncontrollably. Her mind had become overwhelmed with all that Peter had to say to her. But one thought was clear; she loved him, now more than ever. She needed to be able to hear his voice again, rather than just imagine it in her mind as she read through his scribbled stream of consciousness. She needed her Peter. As she regained her composure, she carefully folded the piece of paper and placed it back in Peter's notebook and positioned the bookmark on the page- not that she was likely to forget.

As she took a deep breath, in an attempt to try and calm her nerves, her eyes wandered down to her hands, clasped together in her lap, that were still subtly shaking, along with the two silver bands on the left. She slowly slid Peter's ring off her finger and gripped in her fingers, gently spinning it around until the engraving became visible:

Always

A word that had gained so much meaning to the couple throughout the last few months. Firstly, with them coming to the conclusion that, no matter what they were put through, they realized that they'd always come back to each other- they were a bit inevitable like that. And with the fear of Peter's life being limited, they realized just how much they would always love each other. The soulmates had each other's hearts, no matter if they were beating or not.

"Mrs Barlow?"

Carla was so deep in thought that she didn't fully register the nurse addressing her. As soon as her eyes fluttered up from the ring, of which she was still clutching, she rapidly rose from her seat as she realized Peter's surgery had finished and the nurse was delivering news of the procedure. News that would change Carla's life- for better or for worse.

"How is he…?" Carla desperately inquired, choking on her words.

"Peter's transplant was a success and everything seems to be functioning as we'd hoped" The nurse calmly reassured Carla, who let out a sign of relief as she momentarily closed her eyes in order to take the news in.

"So do they think he's going to be okay?" Carla enquired nervously.

"The doctors are quietly optimistic that he'll be able to make a slow and steady full recovery"

"Can I see him?" Carla was desperate to see the man she loved- seeing that he was okay was her main priority.

"He's being taken to the recovery ward and is still under sedation, but you'll be able to see him shortly." The nurse nodded as she returned to the ward.

"Thank you" Carla displayed to the nurse her appreciation. "Thank you", she whispered to herself as a single tear of pure relief fell across Carla's face that was slowly arching into a small smile as Carla realized that she had her Peter back.

I guess it really was never too late for these two to have their ultimate love story.

Make sure to check out "Always: Part 2" by shutupeatyourpizza…

4am

The waiting area in the transplant centre was quiet. Too quiet. All that could be heard was the irritating sound of the clock on the wall ticking away, mocking the concerned and exhausted people who were sat in there, patiently waiting for news. It had been half an hour since Daniel, shortly followed by Peter's surgeon explained the surgery in depth and how it went as planned with no complications but they still hadn't been able to see Peter.