Author's Note: While I wish that it were not true, I do not own OTH, its characters, or its storylines...
A Second Chance at Happiness?
An OTH Leyton Short
By
AlexB
1
"Jesus! Oh, Jesus! Get out of the way! Go! Go!"
He felt the warmth on his closed eyelids first. Then slowly, very slowly, as if her were coming out of the deepest of sleeps, he started to come awake. His eyes even went so far as to flutter. But try as he might, he couldn't get them open.
"Lucas?"
He knew that voice. The touch at his shoulder had him fighting even harder to open his eyes; to wake up. He didn't like where he was, he didn't like the way that he felt; scared, and defenseless.
"Lucas."
I'm here! I'm here! He wanted to shout the words, but he couldn't open his mouth to say them. No! His voice screamed inside his head. He knew what was happening. He knew where it led. Whoever was talking to him sounded so far away and the voice continued to fade. He didn't want to go back. He didn't want to be alone anymore. He couldn't be trapped, any longer. He couldn't feel the light on his face anymore.
"God in heaven, please help me," he thought. "Don't let it take me back."
He came to a little later. His hand hurt. He tried to make a fist, but his joints wouldn't work. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and he was hungry. What he wanted was a pizza, but only after he brushed his damned teeth.
His eyes opened of their own accord this time. Everything was out of focus, like a blurry picture. He blinked the room into view then his eyes slowly moved around him. It wasn't that he was in a place that he didn't know. It was just a place that wasn't his.
The walls were white, and cloud in the sky blue. There were pictures of landscapes, and portraits of flowers on the walls. In one corner was a chair. It had one of those stuffed bears sitting on it. It wore a mini black and blue Ravens jersey, dark glasses and a backward cap. Lucas was too weak to even offer up a smile, but he remembered that bear. He'd won it for his mother at a school carnival his freshman year as a gag. He hadn't expected her to keep it, but she displayed the thing on her dresser. It wasn't until sophomore year that he noticed that the bear and his uncle had the same number. For the two men in my life, she had said.
The room had two windows. The blinds on both of them were opened. Sunlight streaked across his body. He could feel the warmth on his face again, on his arms and his chest.
Felt good. Felt damn good.
His face itched, and he couldn't move his hands to scratch it. What the hell was going on? When he looked and saw that he wasn't strapped down he started to get scared. Eyes searching the room wildly he tried to see if he really was alone. Seeing that he was, Lucas opened his mouth to yell, but stopped.
Pictures. Lots of them. Pictures of him, of his mom. Of Haley, Keith, and of Peyton. The picture of him and Peyton lying together in the snow caught his eye. He couldn't reach out and touch that perfect face, so he studied it with all the concentration he could muster. It was the only way he knew to calm himself.
He remembered that day.
It had been just before Christmas. The snow had come the night before. It wasn't really bad, but it had been enough to cancel school that day. The sun had barely been up when he had been out the door to see her. Man, she had some powerful hold on him. He didn't understand it. All he knew for sure was that he could barely stand to be away from her. Peyton, she never locked her front door, but he never used it. Instead Lucas stacked crates that sat beside the house to climb up onto the Sawyer garage and up to her window.
He had watched her sleep. Rain or shine, whether it was warm or freezing outside, she always kicked the covers off. Peyton never wore socks to bed either. They always got kicked off like her sheets and lost in the blankets, so she slept just in pajama bottoms and a tank-top. She never got up unless she had to, but she always left her window open for him. He lay in bed with her that morning until the sun had come all the way up and stayed that way until Peyton decided that it was time to get up and face the day.
A smile started on his face then. It was weak, and stopped dead in its tracks when Lucas's face was thrown back at him from the glass of the frame. His face itched because he had a beard, and his hair was so long it could be tucked back behind his ears. He looked like a man who had been trapped in the wilderness for decades.
"Lucas?"
At the sound of the voice, his eyes locked on the woman standing in the doorway. She stood there, her hand to her mouth as tears fell from her dark eyes. "Lucas! Oh, Lucas!" She whispered tearfully. "Oh, baby."
Mom.
She sounded like she was both laughing and crying now. She took his face in her hands and smiled down at him. "It's about time you opened those pretty blue eyes."
If he had his way, Lucas would never close his eyes again.
"What can I get you? What do you need? The doctor?" She moved to leave, but he stopped her. She looked down at their hands on the bed. It wasn't a tight grip, only a touch from his hand to hers. That alone was enough to make her stay.
What did he need? Her, Lucas thought. He needed her. Instead he mouthed the word "water" once, twice, three times just to make sure that she knew what he needed. Out of nowhere she had one of those plastic hospital cups in her hand. It had a straw in it. He wanted to ditch the damn straw and take his water like a man.
He could hear it then. The water, rushing in his ears. All the sudden he was cold. So cold his whole body began to shake. It shook so bad, the water his mother held out to him fumbled, splashing all over him. It went up his nose and down his throat at the same time. He knew his lungs worked, as he coughed and gasped for air."
"Lucas? Luke, what's wrong?"
The water. It was everywhere. Get me out! His scream echoed inside his head. Get me out of the water!
His mother was screaming now; calling for someone to help her. And instant later, he felt a prick in his arm and everything went dark.
When he opened his eyes again, it was night. His mother lay asleep in the corner chair, a blanket pulled up to her shoulders. The lamp was on next to him.
"Hey."
His eyes tried to follow the sound, and were rewarded when they had. Haley.
She smiled back."Nice to see you still remember me."
You're an unforgettable woman.
There were stars in her eyes. Her face crumpled as if she wanted to cry, but she wouldn't. She wouldn't let the tears fall.
Hales.
"I'm okay." She sniffed her smile watery. "God, it's good to have you back."
He tried to force his body to move, but the most he could do was flex his fingers. He was starting to get real frustrated, and she saw that. She put a hand on his chest.
"Give it time, Luke. Give it time."
He looked at her with question in his eyes. Haley could always read his mind. He hoped to hell that she still had the magic to do it now.
"You've had your eyes closed for two years, Luke."
Two... Two years? That couldn't be right. Lucas looked at his friend like she had two heads. Two...
Haley only nodded. "Do you remember, Luke? Do you remember what happened?"
New Years. The party at the beach house.
"Why do you keep letting him get to you? Why do you keep doing this to yourself?"
"You don't understand."
"I understand perfectly."
"I won't let him break me!"
They always fought when it came to his brother. Nathan. He never missed a chance to try and get under Lucas' skin. And Lucas relished in his victory every time he didn't.
Nathan had got to him that night, and they fought. Outside in the snow and sand. He remembered the satisfying sounds of crushing bone and cartilage when he'd plowed his fist into his half-brother's face.
Jake. He remembered Jake and Skills. They had broken it up, pulled them apart. Then he and Peyton had argued. But Lucas hadn't been the only one who'd been fighting with his girlfriend that night. A guy named Marcus had been fighting with his girlfriend, too.
He was drunk and couldn't get himself home. Physically hurt and mad his damn self, Lucas had needed to get away from Peyton and the situation and offered to take the guy home. His ribs, he remembered had hurt something fierce. They'd been cracked, if not broken. Many people had tried to stop him from leaving that night, but he'd left anyway.
It had begun to snow. The windshield wipers weren't working, because he could barely see anything. They were at a red light. The car had stalled, and then stopped.
Screaming tires. People yelling.
"Jesus! Oh, Jesus! Get out of the way! Go! Go!"
Falling. He remembered falling. Then the water. He couldn't stop it from coming in. It was cold. So cold. So cold, it took his breath. It rushed up his nose and down his throat. He was drowning. He hadn't had a chance to get his breath.
Here! I'm down here!
Then nothing. No, not nothing. It was like he'd been standing outside his own body.
"He died, Lucas." Haley spoke quietly. "The car was hit on his side, killing him instantly. He didn't feel anything."
Not true, Lucas thought. Marcus had felt plenty.
Haley's voice hitched. "We didn't know if you were going to make it. You were under the water so long that when they found you, they thought that you were gone, too."
He was here, Lucas thought. He was here, and Marcus was dead. Lucas barely knew the guy, but the loss he felt was awesome. When he looked at his friend again, there was another question in his gaze. Where is she, Haley? He wanted to know. Where's Peyton?
One year later...
He hated the snow. It was too damn cold, and it made his bones hurt. He was walking only marginally better than a ten month old. He had to use a damn cane to walk. Screw that piece of crap walker, and damn a wheelchair. A man had to have his dignity. And dignity was all that Lucas Scott had left. Even if there wasn't much of it.
As soon as he had felt himself able, he had taken himself out of that damn hospital and had been fending for himself ever since. His uncle had sold his place and was now living with Lucas's mother in the home that he grown up in. They had wanted him to stay with them, but Lucas hadn't wanted to be a third wheel. He hadn't wanted to be hovered over either.
He had enough TV dinners to last him to the apocalypse, and so many cans of chili, he was getting sick and tired of looking at them.
Being out on the outskirts of town away from all the people and the story was good though. It was helping him big time to not have to walk or drive past where it had all happened. Things had been repaired, yes, but Lucas still saw that night. He still saw the snow, the purple-pink sky, his breath on the air, and the headlights of the car that slammed into them.
Shaking himself from that memory, Lucas looked out about him. There was probably an inch of snow on the ground with more in store. The forecasts called for a storm. A really bad one that had him out here hauling enough wood in to last him. He knew for sure his power would go out. His pipes would more than likely freeze, too. He was prepared for that also.
On his third trip, something made Lucas stop. His mother had already called him. Haley had, too. So they wouldn't show up out here. He's specifically asked them not to. And he was seriously hoping that they listened. Lucas snorted at his thought, shaking his head. What he said when it came to them came in one ear, and went out the other. It was never like them to keep away when he asked.
When he came out of the house again twenty minutes later, he saw it. The car. Black and vintage. His eyes narrowed and his blood heated. No, he thought. Hell no. He was not about to do this.
"Back." He growled. Growling again, Lucas threw that log in his hand as far as he could. He was yet to be one-hundred percent but it was amazing what a little anger and irritation could do. "Back!" He yelled.
Turn around and go back, he thought. I don't want you here.
He slammed into the house, locking the door with much satisfaction, behind him. She couldn't come in unless he invited her, and he wasn't mailing out any invitations. All that had needed to be said between them had been said without words. There was nothing left.
Lowering himself into his chair, Lucas gave into his anger once more and sent his cane sailing across the room. It hit the front door then fell to the floor unmoving. Hot tears pricked the back of his eyes, but he blinked them back, ordering them away
Hell, no, he thought once more shaking his head hard. God in heaven, he was not going back there. He would never be that person again. The Lucas Scott he used to be died that night in the icy cold water of the river. What was left, what he was now, it wasn't saying much, but it was who he was.
She didn't even knock. She just pushed the door open and stood there. Staring at him. Lucas watched in agitation as Peyton Sawyer pocket a set of keys.
Who in the hell..? Get out. "Out." He spat, punching a fist into the arm of his chair. Go away. "Go."
"Can't do that, babe." She replied, closing the door behind her. "Storm's coming in, and it's just my luck."
He didn't believe in luck. He didn't believe in fate. Lucas didn't believe in anything anymore, period. Because when you believed, you got kicked in the crotch. He liked his anatomy just fine where it was, thank you very much.
"Leave." One thought, one word. Hell of an accomplishment, if he did say so himself.
"I'm not going anywhere, Lucas. So just close your mouth and get used to it. We have some unfinished business."
"No!" He roared. "No...You..." Dammit. He elbowed the back of the chair hard as he could. "You..." He said more slowly than he liked. "Left. Made clear...that...you...want me." He pounded into the seat again. That was not what he wanted to say. "Don't." He got out. "Don't...want...me." She was shaking her head, and he was nodding.
"Lucas-"
"Lie to me, Peyton! Don't...lie."
"Are you going to let me speak?" He only glared at her raised brows. "You want to do this the hard way? Fine. I'm game. Get ready, baby. This place isn't big. You can't run from me here."
He jabbed a finger at her. "You ran." Well how about that. A complete sentence.
Lucas took no satisfaction at the wounded look on her face. It only lasted a split second before she pushed it away; putting it into one of those many locked boxes she had inside herself. He'd hated them then, and it grated that he still hated them now.
"I didn't run."
He snorted. "Needed-ed...You...Gone." Closing his eyes tight, Lucas tried again to make himself heard. "Weren't there."
It was true. Partly. She wasn't there, that he knew of. But she hadn't left him. She couldn't watch him go through what he went through everyday, and she was a selfish bitch because of it. She was a coward, too. But she hadn't left him. Every time he'd closed his eyes, she was there.
Bitterness turned his dark blue eyes almost black. His hair was growing out again. Wheat colored strands fell over his forehead. The short beard on his face was shades darker than the hair on his head. She liked it.
"I'm not leaving you now." She said to him. "You can try and leave, but I'll only stop you."
He tried to look through her the same way he would look through anyone else who didn't matter, but he couldn't. He took in that curly blonde hair, and thought about all the times he had his wrists buried in it. He thought about its softness, the way that it smelled. Her pale, apricot skin was so soft; it made him shudder just to think about it. And those eyes… Those yellow/green, orbs were something that he just couldn't describe the way that he wanted to.
For someone who was supposed to be so unsentimental, Peyton closed her eyes when she kissed. She kept her eyes closed a little afterward, like she was making a memory or something.
They were still staring at each other. Ex-lovers caught up in some awesome memories...when the lights went out.