AN: Ah! I welcome you to my newest endeavor as I take a break from the sequel to my other story. So, one day I was perusing the One Tree Hill section, trying to find some new fics to read. And then something hit me over the head like a lobster on a ranch in Texas: Peyton and Rachel. SO I made my way over to the search engine, input the pair and came up with a very limited selection. I was all "EGAD! How caneth this be-eth?" And here we are. Hope you like it.
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Chapter One – Running Up That Hill
Song by Placebo
X x X
In her lifetime, no one had yet explained to her the positive affects of reliving painful memories. You were supposed to try and forget the bad and remember those joyful times. In her eighteen years, her bad times out lapped the good by almost double if not more. There were certain things that shaped the person you were to become for the rest of your life.
The mug clanked on the counter top, the hollowness of the sound filling the entire kitchen in the silence. These days, speaking was optional. She rarely even took steps outside of her own home. She would attend school and say no more than two sentences the entire day. She had considered getting her GED just to avoid leaving the shattered safety of her home. She had no other place to which she could flee.
Blonde tendrils fell in front of her face. She knew that she had taken quite a few unhealthy turns for the worst. Her skin had been a nice color that showed she received a good amount of sun. Now it was severely lacking in melanin, turning pale and almost ghostly. Nothing really fazed her anymore. She must have painted her room at least three times.
Peyton sighed and held her face in her hands. Misery had a way of being so woefully attracted to her. Yeah, sometimes she would flirt with the prospect of happiness; go on a few dates with it. Things would go well for a while with the steady relationship. In the end, however, she always wound up right where she began, in the loving embrace of loneliness and pain. She knew every inch of this territory.
If there was one thing that hated most about it – it would be that she was alone. She had no one to stop her downward spiral to hell. Peyton had literally shoved Lucas out of her world with angry words and slammed doors. She had refused to pick up his phone calls in the following couple of days. It had been almost a week and a half since the prom. The night of everyone else's lives had almost been the end of hers.
She lifted her head up again and restlessly forced herself to start walking around again. If she stayed put for too long, she started going back to that pit of despair. Very few people knew of her fate that night. The majority simply thought she was being an emo child and avoiding the prom for something else. Brooke had no idea. Haley. Lucas. Nathan. Karen. All of them were among the deceived.
Of course, she thought bitterly, why the hell would Brooke care what happened to her? She would be with her best friend, Rachel, probably shopping for something or other. Her mind remained on that subject for a couple of minutes, thinking of only one person with a certain myriad of emotions swirling around indecisively. One person – the least likely – had become key in her current existence.
One pale digit traced gingerly along her dark blue spotted clavicle, the other hand resting just below her breasts. There was a particular part on her collarbone that held a series of navy and eggplant bruises in the shape of fingerprints. Usually she covered it up with a sweatshirt, like a turtle hiding itself in its shell. Now that she thought about it, it was around that time in the afternoon. Peyton's eyes flitted around the kitchen at the sound of a key in the front door. Her body and mind were in full flight mode.
"Peyton?" It was a quiet voice, slightly worried. That note of concern was like that of a friend. Only Peyton got to hear the voice at that particular level and in that tone. Not that it mattered to her at all. There were footsteps in the front hall before they diverted themselves toward the kitchen. Even though she was familiar with the person and routine, she still stiffened at the presence. Ever since her ordeal, the word seemed so empty to her, she had refused most human contact. However, she had picked up a new companion to spend her time with.
Actually, she had picked up two companions. They took away some of the loneliness that consumed her most of the time. Peyton carefully maneuvered her body out the path of the hand that had tentatively hovered above her shoulder. She would avoid physicality at all costs. There was a scrabbling of nails on the wood floor out front, soon followed by the appearance of a certain ball of fuzz.
Ellie stood in the door to the kitchen, one tan and black ear perked while the other one was lopped to one side. Her face was very expressive with her beige eyebrows against the contrasting black of her face. As far as German shepherds went, Peyton thought that Ellie was rather peculiarly colored. Her body was almost completely black except for her left ear, hind paws, brows and a thin stripe on her chest.
"Hey Ellie, have you been taking care of Peyton for me?" Her counterpart knelt down, stroking the soft fluff that covered Ellie's immature body. Some days ago, Peyton had gone to an animal shelter and had spotted her puppy alone in a cage. The little dog was still bulking up, but at least she was at a slightly healthier weight. For some reason, Peyton had found herself irresistibly pulled to the emaciated puppy.
Ellie made a yip and wagged her tail joyfully at the attention she received. Usually her day consisted of Peyton furtively letting her out the front door for a few minutes so she could do her business and then following her owner up to her bedroom. Peyton just felt more secure with the dog in the house with her. It was always better, in her opinion, to know when someone might possibly be lurking around outdoors. That was why she had Ellie at her side at all times.
"Can I get you anything right now?" Rachel wore that look of disquiet. Peyton mutely shook her head, once more dipping her body to avoid touching the other girl. The redhead sighed and looked after Peyton as she headed into the den. She had to think to herself – how did they wind up here?
It was so strange not mentioning anything to her best friend, Brooke. But, she just couldn't bring herself to betray Peyton like that. She had been known to be cruel and almost heartless at times, but this was someone she had come to personally know. The circumstances leading to which she had somehow found herself wanting to look after Peyton were among the worst possible.
Brooke had actually been vaguely worried about Peyton, though thrilled to see Rachel show up at the prom. So, after a dance with Mouth, Brooke promptly asked her to 'please' go check and make sure Peyton was all right by herself. The prom had been going on for quite a while, almost near the end. Being the good friend she was, Rachel submitted and finally did what was asked of her.
Her eyes followed Ellie as she padded after the blonde, ears flopping all the while and her tongue lolling out between pointed white teeth. The puppy was good for her – it should have been therapeutic in a way. Rachel stood where she was for a moment, just thinking and giving Peyton her space. She waited for about two minutes before silently moving to check up on her. Peyton was curled into a corner of the couch, Ellie sitting right beside her. The TV was on, but it just didn't register in her mind.
When she finally arrived at Peyton's place of residence, she had waited outside for someone to answer the door for a full fifteen minutes. Having never actually seen Psycho Derek up close and personal, it didn't seem significant to her when a blonde male dressed in a white wife-beater exited the door. His blue eyes had an unnerving quality about them and were one of the most memorable traits he had. He carried a bag over the shoulder and a camera in his opposite hand.
Within two minutes, he was gone. She hadn't paid any attention to where he went. Rachel invited herself inside and began her search for Brooke's ex-best friend. After looking in her room, the kitchen, the den, her father's room and various other locations, she had been about to give up on her quest. Until she heard a muffled sound as she passed by a door she brushed off as unlikely. Rachel had paused until she heard another noise from below in the basement.
And so, of course, she pulled open the door and ventured into what she would soon consider the depths of hell. Her body had refused to obey her mind the moment she reached the bottom of the stairs. Well, at least she knew what the noises had been. It had been Peyton sobbing. Rachel couldn't imagine a single person that deserved to be put through what Peyton had just suffered.
After regaining her senses, she had quickly pulled off her leather jacket and stepped forward to cover Peyton with it. She had had to stop herself from adding her own tears to Peyton's. The blonde had quickly shrunk back from her, ignoring even the friendliest of gestures and receiving every move she made with fear. Her arms had been bound together behind her back; her palms and wrists were bloody where she had tried to use her nails to get rid of her bindings.
Rachel hadn't wanted to traumatize her or make her any more distressed than she already was. She had taken slow steps toward her and soon knelt right next to her. Peyton had whimpered through the gag in her mouth, her eyes squeezed shut. It had taken her about twenty minutes to get Peyton to relax just enough for her to take off the gag, the rope tying her forearms together and wrap her in the jacket. Peyton had adamantly refused to leave the house, though she hadn't said a word.
It had left Rachel with only one option. She had led the blonde up to the bathroom in her room. After taking a minute to just examine Peyton's room, she had settled her down on a small stool. Rachel had retrieved a couple of towels and, after doing a lot of recon, managed to scrounge up some Neosporin, hydrogen peroxide, gauze and bandages. They had been tucked away in a cabinet, as though they never expected to be used.
Since that night, Rachel had become accustomed to making her appearance at Peyton's home, just to make sure she was all right. She had seen her only a few times at school and even then she skirted around people as though they were the plague. She pushed her hair back from her face as she waited in the doorway, trying to figure out what next to do with her time with Peyton.
Brooke had once attempted to reconcile with Peyton after the attack, wanting to know that she at least cared enough to hate her. Of course, she had been ignorant about her tortuous hours in the basement with Psycho Derek. Peyton hadn't known the brunette was there until a hand was laid on her shoulder. At that moment of contact, she leapt up, spun around and immediately fled to her car. Brooke had looked confused, worried and somewhat annoyed all at the same time. She had consulted Rachel, who had swallowed the truth and shrugged. If she wanted people to know, she should have the right to tell them herself.
Her heart clenched every time she saw the person that Peyton had become. She used to be strong and confident in her own ways. Now she was completely vulnerable and, as a result, had closed herself off to trust and love. She was now utterly convinced of the omnipresence of pain and the ever-looming threat of betrayal. Peyton had readily welcomed Derek into her life and he had ended up turning her very existence into her own personal hell.
Rachel hesitated before continuing into the room. Peyton jerked almost unnoticeably, her big green eyes moving over to observe the redhead. The teenager had become somewhat comfortable with her continual presence. She was consistent with how she acted around Peyton, trying to earn her trust. So far, she had only accepted her and had minimal faith in her.
"Hey, Peyton." Rachel seated herself on the edge of an armchair, leaning her body forward and resting her elbows on her knees. "You know you need to eat. Can I get you something specific?" At the slight shake of her head, Rachel frowned, but didn't want to push too hard. "Are you sure? Chicken and stars? It's in the pantry." It wasn't received with outstanding popularity, but she was hardly about to give up. However, she did resort to pleading. "Please Peyton? Just eat a little."
At that, the blonde sighed and tilted her head forward. Rachel then grinned, whistled softly and hopped to work. Literally, she did a little bounce when she got to her feet. If Brooke saw her like that, she would want to know what drugs she was on or if she had met some really hot guy that made her happy. She would probably use the latter as an excuse. Ellie whined at Peyton, poking her in the arm with her little wet nose before heading after Rachel. Of course, Peyton reluctantly followed her puppy.
Ellie gave her loudest bark; ears perked and head tilted. She was eagerly awaited her reward for being a good girl and coming when Rachel whistled. The senior laughed and tossed the German shepherd a dog biscuit. Rachel's parents, finally stepping into their roles for a few hours before jetting off somewhere, had managed to get the principal to readmit Rachel into the school. She knew it was a good thing, but she just couldn't help it when she was glancing around and trying to find Peyton in the sea of people.
For all the things she couldn't do with the culinary arts, she could at least read the directions on the soup can label. As the cold broth, mini stars, carrots and water heated up on the stove, Rachel turned to watch Peyton. There were some moments, like the one present in front of her, that reminded her of how much pain Peyton had been through in her life.
At that second, the blonde was sitting on a stool with her arms tightly folded across her smooth tummy. Her oversized clothes made her seem that much smaller, even though it was a fact that Peyton was a tall individual. It was one of the few times that Peyton accidentally let her guard down and showed what she was feeling. She was nervous and vulnerable and edgy and a whole score of other unpleasant emotions. Ellie lay by the legs of the seat, head on her paws.
Now, Rachel had felt certain things towards other girls before and had never acted on any of them. But, this time was far different. From the moment she had laid eyes on Peyton, she knew there was something about her that made her want to be friends. The bad part was that she had flirted with Brooke's unofficial boyfriend the day before the tryouts. So, it was far harder to gain any kind of relationship with the broody cheerleader. Of course, it really had stayed at that borderline civil place ever since Brooke and Peyton's falling out. And then she had arrived after Derek left the second time and that was that. Rachel wanted to be close to Peyton, but she needed her to get back to trusting people again. Before that, she needed to make sure to get her healthy again. Her weight had dropped dramatically since the attack – it was quite the cause for concern.
After everything else, there was one more thing she needed to do. She had to get Peyton and Brooke back on speaking terms. Brooke had actually voiced concern about her ex-best friend to Rachel once. She had noticed her in the locker room before physical education class. It had been three days after the attack and Peyton had stopped eating at all, only occasionally getting something to drink. Peyton had looked only marginally thinner than before. It had gotten much worse.
The water bubbled lazily behind her back, catching her attention by sending a boiling droplet onto her bare arm. Rachel winced and quickly turned off the heat, grabbed a bowl from a cupboard and ladled soup into said bowl. Peyton looked from her bowl to Rachel, almost expectantly, as though she wanted Rachel to eat with her. So, not wanting to disappoint, the redhead fixed her own serving.
"R…Rachel," The voice startled her, immediately grabbing her green-eyed gaze. Ellie's head tilted to the side and she yipped her little puppy yip. Rachel was so used to having a one-sided conversation in the Sawyer residence. It was nice to hear Peyton's voice again, even if it was a bit quiet and hoarse for lack of use. Her tone was sincere, "Thank you…for everything."
She could tell that Peyton seemed to at least be making an effort to show her that she wanted to trust her. She was trying. Rachel gave her a reassuring smile and didn't try to press her into continuing the conversation. She suddenly remembered something and rummaged around in the purse she had deposited by the table. A grin spread over her features as she pulled half of a dozen CDs from the bag.
She spread them before Peyton, letting her carefully look over every cover. There was the Come Clean album from Puddle of Mudd, A Beautiful Lie from 30 Seconds to Mars, All We Know Is Falling from Paramore, Promise of Love by American Analog Set, Composure from Waking Ashland and a mix she had put together specifically for Peyton. No matter what, she knew that Peyton would still appreciate new music. They spent a couple of minutes in silence as Peyton pored over the tracks, absentmindedly eating her soup. This was one of the few times that Rachel got to catch a glimpse of the old Peyton Sawyer, the one that was confident and successful with her job at Tric.
She put all of her attention into concentrating on the lyrics that she read in the cover booklets. Well, it was, at the very least, a way to make sure that Peyton ate. Rachel finished her own rapidly cooling soup, being sure that her companion had eaten every bit of the chicken and stars. Her cell phone rang loudly, causing the semi-relaxed blonde to jump to her feet, bright green eyes wide and frightened. Just a shell of her former self. Ellie tilted her head, mouth opened slightly as she yawned.
Rachel gave her an apologetic grimace as she checked the number, pressed the green answering button and held it to her ear. Brooke would be the one to interrupt what little progress she had made. "What's up?"
"Hey! Where are you? You left early after school today, what's with that?" Peyton's eyes narrowed as she heard the voice, but she didn't make any move to leave. She stiffly resumed her seat, elbows shifted forward just a bit in a blatantly defensive position as she continued her thorough examination of each disk, not wanting to miss a single thing. She was carefully looking over the lyrics for Blurry by Puddle of Mudd.
"I'm sorry, Brooke. I just needed – to go do something. There's something I've been checking up on." Her intestines twisted uncomfortably in her abdomen the moment the fallacy left her lips. It just felt so wrong to lie to Brooke, especially about where she was and what she was doing. Peyton would tell her, hopefully, in her own time and in her own way. Of course, she wouldn't be surprised if Peyton just didn't want to talk about it. Almost twelve days after the attack and she still bore the marks of her assailant.
"Oh…is it something I can help with? Is everything okay, Rachel?" Brooke's voice indicated her worry and hesitance to let the matter go. Despite her faults, Brooke was a good friend. She had pure intentions with what she did, at least most of the time. She actually worried about her friends and was comforted when she knew her loved ones were okay.
"Trust me, it's fine. At least it's getting better, you know? Just obligations, Brooke. Don't worry about it." There was that painful twinge in her stomach again. If anything, Brooke should have been worrying about Peyton the most. Their fight was stupid. As far as Rachel was concerned, Brooke should have been there for Peyton after Derek's first attack. She should have been just as suspicious of the so-called long lost brother. Rachel never got the chance to meet him until seeing him for only a second after the prom and now she looked around the neighborhood carefully, scrutinizing every suspicious individual.
"If you say so." Of course she was uncertain. "Talk to you later, right?"
"Absolutely. Later, Brooke." And then there was nothing. Rachel sighed and pushed the phone back into her jacket pocket. Peyton had returned to hiding behind her little shield of silence. The redhead stood and took a slow step closer to her. Peyton gave her an odd look, but didn't protest. "Peyton, could I take a look…?"
The fragile body before her tightened, becoming as rigid as a board. Rachel regretted bringing it up, but knew that she had to. It was another sadistic mark left by Psycho Derek. Actually, it was from that particular injury that Rachel learned his real name. His obsession with Peyton had been limited with the use of the alias. So, he had tattooed his real name onto her flesh, just not in the traditional manner. She carefully offered a hand to Peyton, who cringed back and proceeded on her own to the couch once more, Ellie right on her heels.
Once she had made herself as comfortable as possible on the soft cushions, Peyton allowed Rachel to proceed with lowering her jeans, even if it was only a few inches. The moment her pelvis was in view, Rachel took her hand into her own and squeezed a bit. She had to use her free hand to gingerly peel away the red-tinged bandages. Beneath the amateur dressing was a still healing wound. The deep, nasty looking cuts (made by way of a blade) wrote a single word in her flesh.
Devin.
Rachel had to keep checking to make sure they hadn't become infected or anything like that. Peyton couldn't so much as look at the name without having tears form in the corners of her eyes. Green eyes averted themselves, gazing off blankly to the side. Peyton was shutting off her emotions, just for the duration of Rachel's quick look-over. Rachel got it over with as fast as possible. When she finished, she stroked Peyton's hand comfortingly with her thumb before releasing her.
"Get some sleep, okay, Peyton? Put on some music, do whatever helps." Rachel put on a brave, strong face for Peyton's sake. "Don't push yourself to the point that you just hurt yourself more. Be sure to keep Ellie with you." Her mute charge just nodded as she hastily re-zipped the jeans and forced herself to her feet. "I'll see you later. I promise. Just call me if you need anything."
Peyton managed a half-hearted smile and disappeared to go up to her bed. Ellie loyally padded after her, nails clicking on the hardwood. Rachel felt guilty for leaving her, but she had to go see Brooke before she got suspicious. As usual, she would keep her promise and return in only a few hours. Peyton needed sleep. Those dark circles under her eyes proved it. Rachel sighed, running her nimble fingers through her hair as she retrieved her bag and headed for the door. Before this, she hadn't believed in those brutal evils of everyday men. Devin had certainly planted that fear into her heart, and had done so much worse to Peyton.