She had not seen his body, she had been too devastated and determined not to confirm the truth when she had arrived at the site of the 'accident'. To see his pale and bloodied form would have destroyed her when she was already been literally on her knees. From the distance all she could really see where all the figures grouped tightly around him, blocking her view before she felt herself being pulled tightly against Tony's side.
The distance had been the only thing that allowed her the luxury of not accepting the loss completely. However when it came to his funeral the denial became a curse. She remembered having to escape because her anger and pain threatened to tear her apart. She remembered wanting to fling open up that stupid box of a coffin they had apparently put him in because she simply couldn't believe how it contained everything that was left of the man she loved.
But his absence had physically hurt more than simple grief could, like nothing she had ever felt before and if she could hollow herself and out destroy the cruel world he had left her in then maybe it would not have hurt so much. Only, cruelly Liam had come back and she had never really accepted his death and now she had no idea how to process his resurrection.
She simply wanted to burry the whole horrible event in the darkest corner of her mind and not have to deal with her conflicting emotions because he had come back to her like none of it had ever been real anyway. But there was still a somber looking grave with his name on it, with fresh flowers from loved ones who didn't know the truth.
There was a very real possibility that her mind had finally snapped after so much strain and this precious truth she had been given was just a fantasy, a manifestation of madness. But if this to be her truth. Her reality in the shadows with the remnants of the man she loved more than life itself then she'd always choose the complications it brought over the closure she might find weeping at his graveside with the rest of them.
She allows him to silently lead her into the hotel and up the two flights of stairs to the room they were currently living out of since arriving back in Manchester as she fights to suppress her wild thoughts. Dead or alive he is everything to her. She wonders at what point did this man with his boyish grin and easy nature become her life.
Once the door is safely shut behind them she wordlessly sheds her coat and scarf, letting the heavy material fall around her feet as he fetches a large towel to wrap around her. It did not matter that her clothes were soaked through so the towel was pointless she still held it tightly around herself because the idea of taking off the wet layers and being naked with all her sins was all too much. She just wanted to hide within Liam's arms and never have to see the look of disappointment on his perfect face and for him to leave her in disgust.
She is guilty now. For all they had planned after a shocking phone call from Leanne, for all her self righteous anger and desire for justice all she was left with was the heavy weight of guilt. She was worse than her husband. She had committed murder with her bare hands and unlike Tony she had actually been successful.
The act of unplanned revenge was just as empty as the original crime, the supposed murder. As Jimmy had slumped heavy and unconscious over her the terror had instantly combined with the guilt in a heavy sickening feeling that she did not ever see fading. She wondered if this was what Tony felt at Liam's 'death'. If him letting her escape meant they were linked through sins just as they were linked through marriage vows.
And she hadn't even achieved anything she set out to do. The bastard was still stealing the life of his victim. She wondered how Liam could bare to even look at her when she had not been able to get his 'killer' away from his son and wife. For how he was able to forgive her for bringing that man into their lives in the first place.
It all felt like a lifetime ago and yet it still burned. Life and grief had burned parts of her away till she was sure she could fade away within the dirty destruction of it all.
Liam pushes at her shoulders till the back of her knees hit the bed frame and she sits automatically, wincing at the way her whole body hurt. Now that it was over, now that she would have to explain she finally felt the effects of the fight, felt the bruises that excuse of a mans hands had left all over her. She could still feel the vice like grip of his fingers around her throat, the sting of the blow that had sent her flying across the room.
There's a sharp intake of breath from the man at the centre of the storm as she feels his intense gaze linger of the evidence the struggle left on her exposed skin. It makes her flinch but she is thankful that he choices not to question her or demand answers just yet. Avoiding reliving it again gave her the numbing safety of some distance and as she burned with shame it was desperately needed.
Instead his gentle fingers methodologically work at stripping the sodden layers of fabric from her sticky skin. Even with her earlier misgivings Carla could never help but be soothed by his touch. For the longest time she lets him undress her, her eyes filling with tears as he presses his lips to every bruise and cut he discovers in his progress.
Eventually clad only in her underwear and the thickness of one of Liam's hoodies the cold finally ebbs away and she is left shaking simply from the weight of tears even if they refused to fall.
"I'm so sorry."
She hears her own voice distantly, hoarse from lack of use and unstable emotions.
Liam settles next to her. The soft bed dips and she lefts herself tilt with it and lean against his side. He makes no further move to touch her or to comfort her and she is thankful he can read her so well because she could not force her confession out from within the safety of his arms. And she so desperately needs an absolution he alone can provide. She needs his reassurance to wake her from her crisis and start to form a new plan, a new way forward.
"I wasn't smart enough Liam. He won again. I failed you. I failed your son."
A bitter laugh escaped her throat as she stared straight ahead at the stained wall so not to see his reaction even as she catches him shifting in the corner of her eye.
"He swore on your son's life...I didn't think...he didn't go along with the plan. Sent his little assassin after me instead. But I fought back and I...I think I killed him Liam. It was an accident and I hated him but his blood is on my hands and I feel sick..."
She trailed off because she had said too much before she could stop herself and in many ways it hadn't been enough and it never would.
She closed her eyes against the silence, images of Tony's viciously wild gaze filling her mind.
The movement was so small but as Liam's little finger edged over to link with hers, brushing the naked skin of her thigh it grounded her in the current. And part of her hummed because he was not turning away from her. It wasn't absolution but it was enough.
"I'm sorry for letting you go alone." Liam spoke measuredly as if he struggled to find the right words to communicate what he needed to say.
There had been a heated argument at the idea of Carla facing their battle alone. Liam had not liked it and even as she insisted it was the only was she hated being without him for the first time since they were reunited. But as far as the world was aware, as far as Tony was aware Liam was still dead and she would rather keep it that way for as long as possible.
"And I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you from him again. But this isn't the end Carla. We won't let him get away with this. We can't."
While she had been forced to retreat it was far from over. Silently they declared war. They would have their revenge, they would find their home again. Together.