Author's Note: So it's been a while since I posted anything OTH-related (been kind of on a GA-kick as of late), but here I am with a little one-shot about the blonde couple. Nothing heavy, really. Just the two of them rehashing the past, and hopefully moving forward. _ I've been sat on this for a while, trying to change it because I'm not really sure how I feel about it. But erm, I figured I'll just post it. And let you guys be the judges.
It's mostly dialogue. Not a lot of description.
Tell me what you think. Please, be kind. I bruise like bad fruit.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, all characters etc., belong to... Well, the people they belong to. =P
Fix Me In Forty-Five
You two blondes sit either end of an old sofa, making brief eye contact that stitches yourselves together for a second- remedy any drift between the two of you- before ripping apart and facing forward.
"So, why are you here today?"
"I have no idea..." Your male counterpart sighs out, and you shoot him a look that shuts him up.
"No idea?"
He shakes his head, before crossing his arms and leaning back into the chair.
"Peyton? Why do you think you two need to be here?"
"I- I love Lucas... I do. But, a lot has happened between us... A lot that makes me question whether we're really right together..."
"And that's why you accepted my proposal?"
"What?"
"Because we're not right for each other..." His tone drips with sarcasm, "You essentially said you want to be married. When you said, "Yes.", that's you telling me that you want to be with me forever. But you're not really sure now?"
"No... I'm sure that I love you. I just said that- Did I not just say that?"
The two of you look back at the woman in front, who is merely taking in your conversation, nodding at appropriate intervals.
"You did say that..." She ventures,
"Is that what I have to look forward to now?"
"What?"
"You two..." He childishly sneers, "...Ganging up on me." Look at him, pouting.
"Luke, you're being ridiculous..."
"No wonder you don't want to marry me..."
"I didn't say that!" You really didn't, you merely stated that while things were great between you now, there is a large part of your collective past where things were not so great- and maybe you need to sort that out before committing to a lifetime together.
"You're doubting us..." He's defensive- like you expected him to be.
"I'm thinking... I am taking a moment to think..."
"Think about leaving?"
"No!"
"People always leave, right?" He remarks, using your famous phrase against you. You kind of wish you never said that, it's always there to get chucked in your face at annoyingly convenient moments.
"You would know..."
Yeah, you went there.
Less he forget that you waited for him in that hotel room- people always leave...
Lucas always leaves.
Or gets a better offer.
Or just gives up.
---
"Okay... So last time, we didn't get very far..."
The two of you hang your heads down low.
"Now, I need you two to stop arguing, and start talking..."
Peyton nods, looking down at her lap like a child who'd just been sent to the headmaster's office.
"Now... Lucas... You spoke last time about the two of you getting engaged. Why did you ask her to marry you?"
You look up, a little confused, "What do you mean?"
"Well-" She flips her pad back, and hums as she looks through her notes, "You were engaged to... Lindsay, right?"
"Yeah... He was..." She answers for you.
"Peyton-"
"Sorry."
"Now, you were engaged to her. And not too long after-"
"After he said he hated me." The words cut through you like a hot blade, you hate yourself for saying that to her- you know you didn't, you know that. But she doesn't. And you guess that the words must drift within her thoughts in a similar manner as the word "Someday" did for you.
Still does.
The therapist carries on, "Yes... Not too long after, you then proposed to Peyton. And I guess I'm asking: why the turn around? Why the sudden change in opinion?"
"Because he's an indecisive bast-"
"Peyton-"
And her eyes meet her lap again.
"Luke?"
"I don't know..."
"Thanks..." She mutters, and you realise how that sounded,
"No, I mean- It almost wasn't conscious..."
You take a second.
"It was just- I don't know... Like everything up until that point-"
"Do not quote your book..."
"I wasn't going to!"
"What were you going to say then?"
You stammer for a second.
"You were going to quote it, weren't you?"
"I was... Going to paraphrase..." You admit, breathing out.
"I don't need the words from the book, Lucas..."
---
"So last time, we spoke a little about why Lucas proposed. Peyton, why did you accept?"
You shrug.
"Gee, thanks..."
And a small smile crosses your lips.
"If you're so unsure now, why did you accept then?"
"That's what I'd like to know-"
"Luke-" You start, you want to scream, and the therapist verbally stands between the two of you.
"Peyton..." She says in a hushed tone, "Just answer my question."
You sigh.
"I was scared... Scared that this would be my last chance with him, that if I said 'No' or 'Someday' or anything that wasn't a definite 'Yes, Luke, I will marry you." He was going to leave... And I couldn't take that again. My heart couldn't take that again." You confess through the curls that have fallen across your face.
"Do you want to marry him, Peyton?"
"Yes..." You look up with glassy eyes, "I just can't shake the feeling that I'll never be enough. We'll never be enough... Something will always go wrong."
---
"I figured it out..." You state in determination.
"Figured what out?"
"Why I proposed..."
"It took you that long?"
"I just needed to come up with some original words..." You smile, but no one's watching.
The two women await the response.
"I realised that Lindsay was just some beautiful girl who wasn't right for me. Right for me in the sense that she knows what I'm thinking, or understands my facial expressions, or- you know, any of it... All that stuff that a soul mate is supposed to do- she didn't do any of it."
"You didn't answer the question..."
You look up at the impartial viewer, "What?"
"I didn't ask you 'Why didn't you marry Lindsay?', I asked you 'Why did you propose to Peyton?'- and you still haven't answered..."
Damn it.
---
"I worry that sometimes me and Luke are just too reliant on the pages of his novels."
"What do you mean?" He questions with some kind of eager that you have yet to see in these sessions.
"I mean- You write this amazing novel, and then you leave when I say 'Someday'. And you write another book, and then you say 'I do' to another woman. And you propose after you tell me you hate me..."
"Peyton-"
"No, Luke-"
"If I didn't write that novel-"
"Then you would be married... To Lindsay..."
It's the truth. The reality that has coursed your veins since accepting his proposal- if not for the fact that she called off the wedding, he would be married to another woman.
"No-"
"Yes! You would! You wouldn't be here right now, in this office, with this therapist, with me. You'd be with Lindsay..." You mumble, "And maybe happier..."
"Peyton, that novel just shows you how I felt. How lost I was without you..."
"Lucas... It's not about what you write. Your words are beautiful and I love them. But, it's about what you show me... It's about the fact that I was alone in a hotel room, because I didn't say exactly what you wanted. And you never called. And I was..." You choke back a sob that threatens to come out, before continuing, "I was alone. It's about the horrible things that you have said to me- like you wished I never came back- and the way you led me on, and then left me... The way you kissed me, and then proposed to someone else. You stared at me in the altar, and said 'I do'"
You look up into blue eyes. Blue eyes that used to fill you with hope and a giddiness that only he could create, and now just fill you with worry.
"It's not about what you write..."
And you walk out of the office. Leaving the two in the wake of your tears.
"Same time next week?"
---
The female blonde looks a little more drained than usual, like she hasn't slept. And you're sure you look like you haven't been spoken to in a while, because you jump when she starts speaking.
"Okay, so this is what I have so far..."
You wait with baited breath.
"Peyton," She looks up at the woman with tired eyes and you fight the urge to pull her close and let her rest her head on your shoulder, "You're dealing with issues of rejection: you feel like Lucas doesn't love you, like you're his second choice- the back up. While Lucas seems to be fulfilled with living in the fantasy of what you were, you want to deal with the reality of what you are. The pain and the hurt and the issues are all things that you have no issue of dealing with because you assume that's all you have." She pauses for a second, "Pain."
You watch your fiancée react with a sigh and a shrug.
"Has anyone ever told you you're a pessimist?"
She smiles a quiet sarcastic smile through a few strands of hair, before turning to you, "Don't you say anything..."
The two of you share a laugh that has so far been unheard of in these appointments, before going back to that oh-so-comfortable silence.
"And Lucas-" There is a definite tightness in your chest, "You are content to take her hand and walk into the unknown." Not so bad. "But you haven't looked at anything of use- the fact that you walked away from her shows a serious lack of confidence in your relationship, in yourself, the fact that you said "I do" to another woman, even though I genuinely believe that you loved Peyton- shows a sincere conflict in your thoughts- you struggle through life because you don't think."
Ouch.
"I don't think?"
"Not enough, no..." She smiles, "It seems you have a history of... Indecision..."
Peyton.
Brooke.
Peyton.
Brooke.
Lindsay.
Peyton.
Brooke.
Lindsay. Brooke. Peyton.
"But I always go back to her..." You sigh incredulously, "No matter what happens, I always go back to loving her... And every time, it's like coming home. It feels right."
"Maybe it's because I'm the only one left. The only one who sticks through all of this, let's you talk to her like she's nothing, and loves you regardless."
"No-"
"I mean, it makes sense... Brooke won't have you, but I will."
"Peyt-"
"Lindsay knows better, but don't worry, Luke- I'll still take you."
"Peyton-"
"So you hate me now? Don't worry, I'll still love you."
"No. That isn't-"
"Wish I'd never come back... I'm still gonna hang around."
"It's not like that."
"And now you want to marry me? All my dreams have come true."
"No. Peyton, you said- Everytime, in your dreams, you say yes."
"So I'm the easy choice... You- You'd have to work hard for Brooke- show her that you've changed since high school. That you'll be a great father. That you'll love her and only her." She wipes her eyes with her sleeve, "You'd have to fight for Lindsay, you'd have to prove you weren't such a dick. That you weren't in love with someone else. That the book was about someone else" She laughs at herself through the tears, shaking her head, "But not me, Luke, because I have dreams where I say yes. That means we must be perfect for each other."
And you don't know what to say.
None of it's true. But you have a feeling that you saying that wouldn't help- make any kind of difference.
"Lucas, did you miss Peyton? In those few years apart, did you miss her?"
"Yeah..." You whisper out.
"Really?" Peyton looks up at you through sad eyes,
"Of course I missed you," You plead with the room, "I just-" You sigh, "It just got easier with time... Like anything, you know? For a while, it hurt. More than anything I know... And then I realised it was easier to just not think about you. And pretty soon, I didn't have to remind myself not to think of you. It just happened. And then I'd drive past your house, or I'd see a car that looked a little bit like yours, or you know, a woman with blonde curly hair- and I'd get this like crushing pain in my chest. And then the next week would be awful, I'd constantly worry that it was you, and that I'd missed my chance. Someone would mention your name and it felt like a- like someone dropped something heavy on me. Then me and Lindsay became a little more serious, and she was a distraction- a beautiful, smart, completely amazing distraction- I won't lie, Peyton, I loved her. I did. But I always loved you. I just didn't think about you..." She bites her lip, "I didn't let myself think about you..."
The room goes back to silence, but it's a little less stifling this time.
She sniffs, and smiles just a little, "You can tell he's a writer, can't you?"
---
So his last confession was pretty good, but he's always been good at putting words together and making them sound nice.
But nice isn't going to cut it anymore.
You're sick of nice.
Sick of platitudes.
He shuffles in his chair as you tongue a response in your mouth before allowing it to leave your lips, "Yeah, I missed him."
"That's it?"
"Yeah, Lucas. I missed you every day. I told you that... You know that."
"What about Julian?"
"What about him?"
"Were you in love with him?"
"Yes." The monosyllabic truth spits out at him,
"You must have really missed me, Peyt-"
"And he broke up with me, because I was still in love with you. I read your book, because I couldn't bear to be apart from you, and I had to live in our past just to feel close to you."
"What about when he came back?"
"What about it?"
"How did you feel?"
"I felt- I don't know- shocked, scared, happy."
"Happy?"
"He was my friend, Lucas. And as much as he was an arse, he- he's been good to you. And he's my friend. And he makes Brooke happy."
"What about if Jake came back?"
"What about if Brooke asked you to marry her?" You shake your head, "You gonna bring up every relationship, Luke?"
"You were in love with Jake..."
"You were in love with Brooke."
"If he came back-"
"Then I'd be ecstatic, I'd ask him how Jenny is. How his life is. How it all worked out for him. I'd offer him a record deal even if he didn't want one, because I love hearing him sing. I'd hug him, I'd laugh with him... And I would love you, Lucas."
He scowls down at his legs, before sighing.
"You wouldn't marry him?"
"I don't even know him anymore, Luke."
"What I don't get, is how you can't forgive me for Lindsay when I-"
"It's not about forgiving you, Luke. No one did anything wrong..." You sigh, "It's not about forgiveness. It just- It scares me. And I need to deal with that. And you need to understand that. And it's different, I was with Julian because you left me, I was with Jake because me and you became horrible people just to be with each other in high school- and yeah, Jake was wonderful, amazing. And I loved him. But we broke up, because I loved you. You were with Brooke even when you could have had me, and I came back and told you I was in love with you, and you proposed to Lindsay. You looked at me in the church, knowing how I felt about you, and you still said 'I do.'"
"How many times are we gonna go over this, Peyton?! I'm sorry, I am. I loved you, and a weird part of me wanted to spite you, and prove that you needed me more than I needed you- prove that you had made the mistake. So I said, 'I do'- I said it. I can't take it back, I can't say I didn't mean it. Or I didn't want to. I can say that that I have never loved anyone as much as I love you- and I know that's as clichéd as they come, but it's the truth. I can say that marrying Lindsay would have been the biggest mistake of my life- not because I would have been unhappy, or she would have been a bad wife- but because a life without you, no matter how good it is, is exactly that. It's a life without you, a life without your curly hair tickling my face when I wake up, it's a life without your depressing music filling my head, or your indescribably bad moods when work hasn't gone your way. So yeah, I would have been happy, but not half as happy or as in love as I would be... As I will be with you."
You sit and let it all was over you.
That was pretty good.
The therapist coughs, "It seems your love for each other has been to the demise of a lot of other relationships..." You both look up at her, simultaneously, "Er, Jake... Brooke... Lindsay... Julian..." She smiles, "Is that a comforting thought?"
Lucas nods, "It just means we were meant to be together..."
But you shake your head, "It just means that we've broke up a lot..."
"Jeez, you know, you really are a pessimist..."
"What? The fact that we've had a lot of other relationships in between ours proves that we belong together? What kind of twisted logic are you using, Lucas?"
He smirks, "I like to believe that we're inevitable..."
You shrug, "I like to be realistic."
---
"So," She smiles, "It was messy, right?"
Nod.
"And it hurt?"
More nods.
"But the world didn't end because we confronted some issues... Peyton, it's okay to admit that you're scared. Lucas, it's okay to admit that something is wrong."
"What do you mean?" You look up at him, he's talking- he spent the first session rolling his eyes, and grunting, and now he's talking. You're the quiet one.
"I mean, you seem to think that by admitting you have a problem, that somehow signifies that it's the end."
He nods, and you let their conversation hover over you. You're struggling to listen to it, feeling nauseous, the world spins and you assume it's because you're tired, stressed, not eating enough.
"Peyton?"
"What?"
You snap back into reality, and look up at the woman whose face you've grown accustomed to over the past few weeks.
"I was just wondering how life has been since you started these sessions?"
"What- what do you mean?"
"I mean, getting these kind of issues out in the open is going to be scary, stressful. How are you feeling?"
"Do you mean, between the two of us?"
"Sure..."
"I guess, we're okay."
"Okay?"
"What else do you want me to say?"
"How's the sex?"
"Non-existent..."
"Right-"
"It's just been a while..."
"Sure."
Silence.
"Is something wrong, Peyton?" His voice permeates your skin,
"Well yeah, but that's why we're in therapy..." You manage a weak smile, before placing your head in your hand, and resting down. "We talk, we eat, we sleep- sometimes in the same room, sometimes not. I go to work, I come home... I watch TV, I breathe... It's the same life. We're just not sharing it at the moment."
"Peyton..."
"Well, it's true, Lucas. What do you want me to say?"
"Peyton, does it scare you- the thought that maybe you and Lucas won't work?"
You nod, "Yeah..."
"That's good. It's good to be scared."
It doesn't feel too good.
---
"Has this week been any better?"
She shrugs beside you, and you figure it's probably better if you speak, "We've- well, we've tried to speak a little more... It's- it's been better. I think, better this week."
She nods, and you're just grateful for any input from her side right now.
"I, uh, I don't know if we're still talking about why I proposed, but I'd like to talk about it..."
She looks up, not at you, not at the therapist, just into space. She looks exhausted, completely without sleep, but you wouldn't know- you've been in the spare room for at least a month.
"Sure, Lucas..."
"I uh, I think it was easier to say why Lindsay wasn't the one, than why Peyton was... Because, I don't really know why Peyton's the one. I'd- I'd like to. I'd love to be able to spout off a load of reasons why I love her, but that... that would be a lot like another speech I once gave. And I know how you feel about recycled lines... So here it is, Peyton is the one. Because... She just is. There isn't an equation or a formula that I can use to prove it, I can't reason it, I can't explain it, I can't deny it. It's a fact."
The therapist smiles, and leans forward, "And when did you realise this?"
"When I was in bed." You smile, "I tried to think of the reason. The one reason why I had to be with her for the rest of my life, and then when that didn't work, I tried to think of the million reasons why she was. And when that didn't work, I realised it was just a feeling. Something inexplicable and incomprehensible. Truth. In its- its simplest form."
"What do you mean?" It's her first words of the session, and they make you smile.
"I mean, it's fact without the messy complication of having to prove it."
"Because it's so hard to prove?- It's so difficult to come up with a reason to love me?"
"No... Because there is no explanation. It just is, Peyton."
---
"I think what Lucas said last week sums up your relationship well."
You feel even worse than last week, your head hurts a little bit more, your temples pulsating heavier- the vibrations running through your body and making you shudder.
"It seems that a lot of what's between you is fairly inexplicable... Without reason. You hurt each other, hurt others, hurt yourselves, and you still come back for more."
"That's kind of masochistic..."
"Exactly- but most relationships are. We hurt and we heal. We fight, we break up, we pine, we get back together. We sacrifice, we struggle. It's all love."
"Peyton, did Lucas make you feel any better last week?"
You nod,
"You don't seem too enthusiastic."
"No, he did. Really."
"But?"
"Nothing." You lie, through glassy eyes, sniffing and smiling at the two of them in turn. "Really."
"Peyton?"
"What, Lucas?"
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"I know you..."
"Then you should know that there's nothing wrong. Nothing."
"This is what it's like at home... I try and communicate, and she doesn't want to talk."
"I let you back in our room!"
"Yeah... And then you moved out."
"It just felt weird..."
---
"Peyton, this week, I'm really going to focus on you. It seems Lucas has had his revelation- there's still work to be done, but for the most part, this session needs to be about you."
"I- I don't want it to be about me."
She looks sick, you caught her vomiting in the bathroom the other day and when you tried to hold her hair back, she flinched away, asking you to leave. You know she hasn't slept well in at least a week, you know this because neither have you.
"Peyton, are you sick?"
"What? No..."
"You were being sick."
"I was just run down..."
"Please, I know we're not talking, but if you're sick- please, just tell me..." You hear your own voice crack,
She sighs, "I'm pregnant..."
"What?"
"With the baby in the uterus, and all that other fun stuff."
"And it's mine?"
"Yeah."
"And you're not happy about it?"
"I don't know how to feel about it. We're not really doing too great, are we?"
"Yeah, but, Peyton, it's a baby... You've wanted one for- You've always wanted one."
"Yeah..." She wipes a tear, and looks at the therapist, kind of laughing, "I always wanted one."
"So this is good news, Peyton."
"I think so." She reaches forward, grabbing a tissue, and blowing her nose, "I've wanted to tell you for a while now..."
"So," She speaks for the first time in a while, "Peyton, what does this baby mean to you?"
"A new beginning. Fresh start."
"Good, that's really good."
---
"Big news last week. How have you coped?"
"We had breakfast together..."
"Five out of seven mornings." You add, "I had to work early for the other two."
"So here's the thing, I'm kind of freaking out."
"Really?"
"Well, there just seems to be a lot of things that could go wrong. Er, Peyton's mother had cancer, and I suffer from HCM. I'm- That's a little scary."
"You don't think we should have the baby?"
"No! No, God, no..." He shrugs, "I'm just scared..."
"That our baby won't be perfect?"
"That our baby won't be safe."
You smile, he's so protective. It's one of the things that you love about him, "Luke, we can't shelter our child from these things. We just have to deal with them. Take them as they come."
"Why, Peyton," The woman leans forward, "That's awfully optimistic of you."
You smile at the therapist, "I'm just being realistic... I can't save my child from everything. I can't do everything. I can guarantee that they'll be loved though. I can keep them away from scary stalkers, and I can let them listen to good music. I will do everything I can... And so will you."
He smiles, "Oh God," He grimaces, "Our child's gonna be a Cure fan, aren't they?"
"If they have any taste..."
"Well, I'm sure they will." And those eyes bring about a kind of happiness in you, a joy that you've missed for a while now, "With you as a mom..."
You feel warm tears trickle down your cheekbones, and his thumb wipes them away. Your fingers clasp around his hand as it cups your face, and you laugh through a sob, it's been so long since you felt this kind of touch from him.
He smiles in that way where his whole face lights up, and you feel yourself shuffle a little closer to him. You're not really close to him yet. You're not touching. But you feel the gap between you close a little bit.
You look up as you feel his fingers intertwine around yours on the sofa cushion, his skin feels right pressed up against yours, and you feel giddy as his thumb strokes the back of your hand.
"We're gonna be fine, Peyton. I know it."
You nod, sniffing, and your hands stay linked as you sit in a quiet that is warm, comforting... Safe.
"I've missed you, Luke..."
Let me know what you think!! =D