Title: Coming Home to Stay
Rated: M | Adult themes, mentions/discussions of drug use/substance abuse; possibly triggering for depression.
Summary: Jake wants to bring Jenny home, but there are things he and Peyton need to work out first. They climb into the Comet and take the long way, figuring out the answers as they drive.
Notes: Written for the journeystory big bang on livejournal. There is artwork to accompany this fic, by the lovely LJ user firefly1344. It's beautiful, and everyone should take a look at it! There's a link in my FFN profile.
Title taken from the Bruce Springsteen song Waitin' on a Sunny Day.
Top up, or down?
Down. I don't think it's going to rain today.
Peyton sits in the front seat of the Comet with her feet braced on the dashboard, the sun on her shoulders, the wind on her face and through her curls. And better than any of that – better than the simple pleasures of a clear morning and open road – is the fact that Jake is in the seat beside her, his hands curled around the bottom of the Comet's steering wheel.
He drives the Comet over the bridge, across the river, and the sun is high and clean and warm above them. Peyton feels more awake than she ever has before – her body is tingling pleasantly with the excitement and promise of the day. She looks over at Jake and smiles, and he grins back at her when she catches his eye.
"We should take our time," he says after a moment, raising his voice above the ruffle of wind blowing over the hood of the car. "Take in the sights, you know?"
"Don't you want to get Jenny back?" Peyton asks in surprise.
"Sure I do," he answers, and he waves one hand to the sky, as though to draw notice to the blue morning. "But I'm probably not gonna get another chance for a road trip with a pretty girl." He grins at her again. "Not for a while, anyway."
Peyton laughs and tilts her head back against the seat behind her. "Okay. Take us somewhere good, Jagielski."
They stop for store-bought ham and cheese sandwiches and bottles of soda before they drive inland a little, away from the Coastal Highway, which so far has loaned them views of sparkling blue ocean and wide skies. Myrtle Beach is yet to show promise of summer visitors, but people walk along the sidewalks in jeans and t-shirts, smiling happily in the new warmth of the sun.
Jake asks Peyton to choose a spot to eat, and she guides him through streets at random until they're impossibly lost, the highway behind them, trees and fields more frequent than houses.
"Here," she says, and Jake lets the Comet roll to a stop on the side of the road, beneath an oak studded with new green leaves.
The ground is still too damp to sit on for long, but there are old sleeping bags in the trunk of Peyton's car; leftover reminders of parties with Brooke and Nathan, all of them falling asleep (or passing out) on living room floors littered with beer cans and remnants of Silly String. Peyton unzips one and spreads it out wide like a blanket. She can smell the faint tinge of cigarette smoke and rum from rebellious nights out with her friends.
"Want to know a secret?" Jake asks, tearing a bite of his sandwich off with his fingers.
"Definitely," Peyton answers, rolling onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows. She twists open her bottle of diet soda.
"I love ham and cheese."
She laughs with surprise. "That's a secret?"
"I've never confessed it to anyone before," he says, and he grins at her before he puts the bread, ham and cheese in his mouth. "Your turn."
Peyton looks down at the bottle of soda in her hand. "All the cheerleaders drink Diet because they think it'll help 'em stay thin," she says. "I drink it because it makes me burp."
Jake starts to laugh, and he leans down to rest his back against the open sleeping bag. "You want to burp?"
She grins back at him. "Doesn't it give you a satisfied, accomplished sort of feeling?"
He laughs again and spontaneously reaches over to brush his hand against her lower back. "You're my kind of cheerleader, Peyton Sawyer."
She smiles and eats her sandwich quietly. Now and then a car will pass by them, but they're far enough out of the way to feel alone most of the time.
"I'm still waitin' for you to burp, you know," Jake says after a while.
Peyton laughs and rolls onto her back, her sandwich finished. "Give me a minute."
He chuckles and she feels his hand brush against hers. Heat shoots up her arm and down her spine, and her skin tightens all over with pleasant excitement.
She belches, and Jake laughs. She laughs with him and it feels so good to finally laugh, to finally feel light and happy. She stares up at the sky and she realises Jake always makes it so easy to feel comfortable in her own skin. There's no pretending; there's no worry or angst or hurt attached to him at all. There's no guilt, or confusion. It's comfortable and easy and happy.
"It's good to see you smile," he whispers, and she turns her head to find him looking at her. "I was worried about you. Especially after Lucas called."
Peyton shifts her back a little, settling more comfortably onto the makeshift blanket beneath her. "Everything was going wrong," she whispers, and she can feel sudden tears prickling behind her eyes.
"Yeah, I know." He brushes her hand again, and this time she slips her fingers into his palm. He squeezes her hand gently. "You can always talk to me," he says.
She smiles, but breaks eye contact, because she can feel the pressure of tears and she doesn't want them to spill. She gazes up at the blue sky, spider-webbed by the budding green branches of the oak, and takes a deep breath.
"I'm glad you're back," she says.
Jake runs his thumb across the back of her hand. "Me too."
Peyton drives, turning back toward Myrtle Beach until they manage to find their way back to Route 17. The sun has started to slip lower in the sky and the heavy heat of summer seems almost tangible in the afternoon light.
Peyton drives a little faster than Jake, and he notices.
"Remember when I said we should take our time?" he asks. "Don't get me wrong – I want Jenny back. But I think it'll do us some good to take it easy." He smiles at her and she realises he's still worried about her.
In Georgetown they head away from the coast, and she takes impulsively takes a more northern route, almost doubling back. "D'you think this road has some adventure on it?"
He laughs and shrugs. "I guess. Doesn't matter. Adventure or not, it looks good."
They drive in silence for a while, listening to the tarmac pass beneath the wheels of the car and the wind rolling over the top of them.
"Can I ask you somethin'?" Jake says after a while, glancing over to her.
She drops one hand to the bottom of the steering wheel. "Sure," she says, though her tone lacks its previous lightness and ease.
"Why'd Lucas call me?" he asks. "Why didn't he make sure you were okay?"
Peyton glances in the rear-view mirror, just for something to do. "I don't know, Jake," she answers eventually. She checks her side mirror, and the dials on the dashboard in front of her. Anything to avoid eye contact. "He's got other things on his mind, I guess."
He keeps watching her, but she refuses to look back at him. She's suddenly nervous and uncomfortable, and the warmth of the day is prickling sweat on her skin. She's asked herself the same question several times and she gets nothing close to an answer. All she ever gets is a feeling of tense desperation and heartache.
Tears start burning at the backs of her eyes, and she wills them to hold back, even as her throat closes up. The only explanation she can find is in self-doubt.
Maybe she just doesn't have any friends.
There's a station wagon ahead, driving just below the limit, and she has to slow down. The rough noise of the wind around the car is ceasing, and she's suddenly cursing her decision to leave the highway.
Jake reaches over and tugs gently on one of her curls. "I know what it's like to have no one to talk to, Peyton," he says.
She looks at him in surprise, her eyes still a little too wet for her to be able to pretend she's okay.
He smiles at her and she turns back to the road, blinking quickly, her hands gripping the wheel.
She focuses on the car in front, and on the road passing under the Comet, watching the way it rolls smoothly beneath the hood, stretching out behind them for the miles and miles they've already covered.
"It's not like..." She clears her throat and shakes her head. "I just... I started to feel like I was putting fires out all over the place, you know?" She glances to him and continues before he can indicate an answer. "I mean, Brooke, and Lucas, and Haley and Nathan... There's all this stuff, you know? All this tension. All this guilt, and anger, and love, and none of it ever seems to really go away and it's like somehow it's always me who has to be the shoulder to cry on." Tears spill down her cheeks. "Nobody bothered to be the shoulder for me."
"So you turned to some drug-dealer instead?" Jake asks.
She almost flinches, but there's no anger or sarcasm in his voice. Just concern.
"It was stupid." She wipes the back of her hand across her cheek. "I crashed."
Jake touches her hair again, his fingers pulling one ringlet out straight until it bounces back against her shoulder. She watches him out of the corner of her eye, glancing between him and the highway in front of her. The station wagon enters a turning lane, heading east, and Peyton steers the Comet past it.
"I drank," Jake says after a moment, his voice quiet. "Just once. I mean – you know. Heavily. So bad I passed out. I thought it'd make it easier to forget some of the bad stuff."
"That's what I thought," Peyton says, and her voice cracks. "Did it work?"
"No. I woke up feelin' worse than ever. And it was..." He draws in a quivery breath and turns his gaze back to the road. "It was almost too easy to fall into some kind of cycle, you know? Where you feel bad so you keep tryin' to forget..." He shakes his head. "Guess I was lucky to be so hard up for cash." He grins at her, less serious now. "Bad habits are expensive."
She smiles back at him and wipes her eyes again. "Guess so."
The backs of his fingers brush against her cheek, and she impulsively takes his hand and holds it there, against her skin.
It's flat out here, and even after winter, the fields seem fledged more with brown than green. The Comet drives past green and grey pine plantations, a brown carpet of needles lying thickly beneath stunted trees at the edge of the road.
"This doesn't look too adventurous," Peyton says, slowing down as they come into sight of a few rusted trailers by the side of the highway.
Jake cranes his neck around to check behind them. "At least the road is nice and straight."
Peyton gives a giggle and shakes her head. "I guess."
Jake grins at her. "You want a little excitement?"
She blinks at him. "Just what are you suggesting, Jagielski?"
He laughs. "Give it some gas, Peyton." He lifts his eyebrow and Peyton grins back at him before she pushes her foot down.
The Comet shoots ahead on the tarmac, the engine voicing a roar beneath the hood. The wind whips Peyton's hair back, and over the deafening thunder of it in her ears, she hears Jake let out a whoop.
She laughs loudly, and the wind sweeps in to lift the sound of her delight up to the sky.
"We should start thinking about where to spend the night," Peyton says, leading Jake tiredly into the roadside diner.
He sinks into the booth opposite her. "I guess."
"It's not that comfortable sleeping on the backseat," she says, nodding her head toward the Comet, which is visible through the window in the parking lot outside.
Jake chuckles.
They're both tired and windblown, and slightly sunburned, though the air has a definite chill in it now. The bite of winter is still in the night, and the sun has sunk low enough now to send red streaks across the horizon.
They each order food, their light lunch of sandwiches seeming an eternity ago.
They're both quiet, and it starts to bother Peyton a little when Jake responds to her conversation with monosyllables and non-committal murmuring.
"Are you okay?" she finally asks, watching him as she stirs ice cubes around the glass with her straw.
Jake glances up at her and smiles. "Fine."
She can feel her heart sinking. For the first time, she feels like he's hiding something from her. There's suddenly a barrier between them, and she can feel panic seeping into her skin.
"Are you sure?" she asks, and she tries to keep the smile on her face, but she can feel it slipping, and her eyes feel like they're a little too wide.
"Just feelin' a bit road weary, I guess," he says, though the answer seems too evasive and vague for Peyton to gain any satisfaction from it.
She toys with the few fries left on her plate, swirling them through grains of salt and puddles of ketchup until Jake turns the question back on her.
"Are you all right?" He leans forward a little, shifting uncomfortably on the vinyl bench seat.
"No," she says, tossing the fry back onto her plate. "Jake, I don't wanna get back in the car until you tell me what's wrong." She slumps back in her seat and looks up at him rather furiously, almost challenging him to deny that anything is wrong.
He looks rather amused. "It's nothin', Peyton," he says. "I'm just tired. Honestly." He reaches for her hand and squeezes her fingers gently. "Promise," he adds.
She bites her lip and looks out the window toward the setting sun. The sky is orange and pink and shadows are starting to lengthen. There's a knot of anxiety in her stomach that's making her wish she hadn't eaten anything, and she can't seem to finish a thought. She's suddenly full of suspicion and hurt and fear, and one little false remark has led her to thoughts of more loneliness, sadness and heartache.
Jake pulls at her hand and she drags her focus reluctantly back to him, wishing she was home, alone, so she could curl around the heavy tension and sadness suddenly aching in her chest.
"Peyton," he says, "you got any idea how nervous I am about all of this?"
She blinks, not expecting such a sudden abandonment of false contentment. "What?" she asks, feeling a little stunned.
Jake gives her a crooked little smile. "Things have been goin' so badly for me lately, it's like... I feel nervous about everythin' goin' so right," he says. "I'll have Jenny back tomorrow, and I'll be goin' back to Tree Hill and maybe goin' back to school, and then there's you..." He clears his throat suddenly and looks away. "I dunno," he mutters, and his fingers slip free of hers. He leans back in the booth and rubs his palms on his thighs. "Things just don't usually go so well for me, that's all. I'm startin' to wonder how I'm gonna screw it all up. I'm just – I'm so close to everything I'll ever want. I just don't want it to go wrong, and history kind of tells me it will. I'm just scared I'm about to do somethin' to lose it all again."
Peyton stares at him for a moment. The tips of his ears are burning red and he's carefully avoiding her eyes, looking out across the parking lot toward the Comet. The sunset gleams off the paintwork.
Peyton tucks a curl carefully behind her ear and gives Jake a smile. "I was starting to wonder that, too," she admits. "I mean, for me – not you. Because things haven't been that great on my end, either."
Jake reaches for her hand again. "Yeah, I know. And I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Peyton."
She shakes her head and looks down, feeling overwhelming relief at the sudden airing of tension between them. "I understand."
He gives her an awkward grin. "I guess we've had this conversation already," he says. "It just keeps sneakin' up on me."
"I know." She looks down at the tabletop. "I guess it'll take a while before we both feel okay again."
He leans forward and presses the tips of her fingers to his lips.
She looks up at him in surprise. Her heart thuds in her chest.
"I'm not used to talkin'," he says. "I've been runnin' away and I've been alone and I guess I've forgotten I can kind of... air it all out."
She nods and she feels close to tears. "Me too. I mean... Not..." She shrugs and shakes her head helplessly.
"I know," he says sympathetically, and that's enough.
She knows he knows. She doesn't have to lay it all out for him; she doesn't have to explain it all and try to find words to match her sadness or hopelessness. He knows – maybe because he's felt it too, or maybe just because he's stopped long enough to listen and care without being bothered by the hundreds of other complications that come with the friendships and relationships in Tree Hill.
Tears spill onto Peyton's cheeks and Jake tugs at her hand. "Let's go," he whispers, and she nods and hastily swipes a hand across her face, wiping the tears away. Jake tosses some bills onto the table and leads her outside.
The sun still has some warmth in it, even in its final dying stage, and they stand for a moment beside the Comet, each of them feeling a little tense and nervous, neither of them quite sure how to proceed.
Jake wraps his arms around her and presses a kiss to the top of her head, and she sighs with relief and buries her face against his shoulder, breathing in the warm smell of him and closing her eyes to stop further tears spilling out.
"You okay?" he asks softly.
She nods, and she thinks she really means it this time. She clutches him. "I'm glad you're coming home," she whispers.
"Me too." He kisses her forehead, and then she feels his lips press softly against her tear-streaked cheek. She opens her eyes and blinks wetly at him before she gives him a smile.
"Sorry," she whispers.
He grins. "Nothin' wrong with a few tears," he says. "Sorry I tried to tell you I was fine. Guess I should've known you'd see through that, huh?"
She gives a quiet laugh and clenches her fingers into the front of his jacket. "A trouble shared is a trouble halved, right?"
"Right," he agrees, and he reaches up to tuck the wayward curl behind her ear again, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "You can always talk to me, you know."
She pulls in a deep, shuddery breath to clear her head. "Right back at you, Jagielski."
He grins, and leans down to press a warm kiss gently against her mouth. "Let's hit the road, Sawyer," he says. "I'm choosin' the music."
They pull over as darkness sweeps in, and by mutual, silent consent, Peyton fetches the sleeping bags from the trunk, tossing one to Jake.
It's not a permanent move – sleeping in the car isn't an option either of them particularly want to follow through on – but the sky is clear and the stars are coming out, and they don't have to be anywhere else right now.
Jake stretches out on the backseat, his feet propped up against the car door, his head cushioned against his own jacket, which is balled up beneath him. Peyton wriggles down beside him, the slippery material of the sleeping bag sliding and rustling loudly in the quiet hush of the night. She struggles to get comfortable as her legs get twisted up in the material and her hips slide over the backseat. Jake laughs and puts his arms around her, pulling her up against him until she breathes a satisfied sigh and rests her head against his shoulder.
They're both far too tall to lie comfortably like this for very long, but right now, Peyton can't think of any good reason to move.
"We can't go to sleep like this," Jake says drowsily.
Peyton shakes her head. "It's only a few miles to the next town. We'll find a place to stay."
His fingers stir at the curls at the base of her neck, stroking her hair back to slide his thumb against the warm skin just below her collar.
She shivers. "Your hands are cold."
"Sorry," he whispers, and he withdraws his fingers, curling them into a loose fist and resting his hand between her shoulder-blades, just above the thick lip of her sleeping bag.
Peyton feels a little disappointed that her mild complaint caused him to stop – though his hand against her back is still a nice feeling.
She shifts against him so she can look up at the sky, which is littered with tiny stars, all glittering brightly.
"By this time tomorrow we'll have Jenny," she says. "Are you excited?"
"You have no idea," Jake breathes. He kisses the top of her head. "Thanks for comin' with me, Peyton."
She just smiles up at him. She feels like she owes him much more than she can possibly give. She's too afraid to think about where she'd be had he not shown up in the street that night.
Jake's hand flattens out and slides over her back – lower this time, between her body and the snug cocoon of the sleeping bag, until he reaches where her shirt has ridden up. His fingers touch the small of her back and Peyton closes her eyes as his skin touches hers.
She suddenly wishes there had only been one sleeping bag, and that they were sharing it.
She squirms closer to him and tilts her head up to rest a kiss against his chin, feeling prickly stubble against her lips.
Jake lowers his head and his lips brush against hers softly before he leans in to kiss her properly. Her stomach swoops and her fingers curl into his t-shirt, the heel of her hand resting hard against his chest. She can feel his heart drumming fiercely.
She closes her eyes, the stars winking at her as her lashes sweep together, and she opens her mouth against Jake's kiss, his tongue warm against her lower lip. She feels his breath against her cheek and he's warm and firm against her. She realises just how sharp the night air is, and she can feel the cold in the tips of her fingers and at the end of her nose.
Jake's hand slides against the small of her back, his palm moving over her skin, his fingers tracing the gentle dip of her spine. She pushes up against him and is immediately frustrated when the sleeping bag pulls tight against her legs, preventing her from sliding over his hips. She grips her hands into his shirt instead and pulls her upper body closer to him, her hair tumbling in blonde spirals against his cheeks as she bends over him.
The kiss breaks with a soft click, and Peyton hears him take a breath. She keeps her eyes closed, her mouth just above his, breathing damp and heavy between them. He slips his fingers into her hair and draws her closer again. Her lips are flushed and sensitive and he sucks and nibbles gently until her breathing is ragged and heavy and she's kicking and squirming to free herself of the confines of her sleeping bag, which is bunched at her hips and tight around her legs.
Jake seems equally frustrated. He stops kissing her only long enough to kick his sleeping bag down to his ankles, before he pulls her on top of him.
She tosses her hair back, out of her eyes, and looks down at him. His pupils are dilated in the dark, but the moon is pale and cold on his face. Peyton touches his cheek with cold fingertips and she can feel frost in the air.
"So," Jake says, and his voice is husky. "All those Tree Hill road trips I missed out on while I was away... Is this the sort of thing that usually happens?"
"Oh yeah," Peyton says, lifting her hips slightly so he can slide the sleeping bag down to her knees, freeing her legs. "What'd you expect?"
He chuckles, but his hands grip her a little tighter, his palms moving up either side of her waist. "I'm sorry I missed all that."
"Me too," she says, the joking tone gone from her voice. She bends and kisses him again, her leg finally free enough to slide over him. Her thigh presses against his hip, and she lets out a soft sigh of satisfaction as he bends his knee to further entwine his legs with hers.
"This isn't going to be our only road trip, is it?" Peyton asks softly, tracing her nose over Jake's cheek.
"Hell no," he answers roughly, and his hand slides up her side until he meets the lace side of her bra. His thumb slides beneath the elastic and sits there patiently, his fingers reaching further up to stroke the skin just below her arm.
She squirms. "I'm ticklish," she warns him.
He gives her a slow grin in response.
She looks down at him. He looks tired and content and happy, and she imagines she looks much the same way.
"You know," he says, and his eyes shift from hers, his gaze tracing the neckline of her shirt, "there are more comfortable places we could be doing this."
"Warmer places," she agrees quietly, the cold night air still clinging to her skin.
"Mm," Jake agrees. His thumb twitches beneath the elastic grip of her bra, and his fingers curl against her skin. She can feel goose-flesh rise on her arms – an effect drawn from both the cold and his touch.
"Not that a little discomfort ever killed anyone," she says, and her voice sounds strangely tense. Her muscles are all quivering as though she's just run a long race, and her heart isn't so much beating as it is humming in her chest.
"I think I could survive here a little longer," Jake agrees, and his thumb slips from beneath the side of her bra, the strap slipping back against Peyton's skin.
She bends to kiss him again, sliding her tongue over his lower lip and into his mouth. He pulls her closer and she hears his feet thud against the side of the car as he moves, pushing his hips up to meet her. His palm grazes across the rough lace cup of her bra and she feels her skin tighten in response. Suddenly she doesn't care how cold it is or how uncomfortable it is or how inconvenient it is – she doesn't want to leave this moment at all; she wants it to pull on and on through time until the sun rises on their entwined forms.
"I've missed you so much," Jake whispers suddenly, and he buries his face against the curve of her neck, his lips pressing warm kisses against her throbbing pulse.
"I've missed you too." She holds her breath for a moment, feeling tearful again. Once more, thoughts about where she'd be if he hadn't returned start clouding her mind.
She can feel the sudden weight of seriousness settling over them both, mingling with the cold air and pressing in against them.
Jake curls his fingers against Peyton's ribs and she jerks and fists her hands in his shirt as she lets out a sudden giggle.
"No tickling, Jagielski."
He grins and wriggles his fingers again, and she shrieks and squirms. He rolls and manages to pin her beneath him, their legs and feet knocking against the front seats and the sides of the car, the sleeping bags finally slipping from the seat to the floor in wrinkled heaps.
Peyton locks her legs around Jake's hips and holds him tight against her. Her shirt is still high up against her back and she can feel the backseat of the car on her skin, the vinyl warm from Jake's body. His jacket is bulked beneath her head like a solid pillow and her curls spread across it. Her cheeks are warm from kissing him and from her breathless laughter at the impromptu tickling.
He starts kissing her again, roughly this time, his fingers holding tight in her hair, his teeth nipping and grazing against her. Her chest heaves and her heart races. She finds herself scrabbling to lift his shirt, her hands splaying against his back, holding him to her, and her hips twitch and lift against him whenever his body moves above her. Her sneakers squeak as they brace against the side of the car, the backseat not long enough for either of them to stretch out comfortably.
"Hey," Jake murmurs, his mouth against Peyton's neck, "remember when I said there were more comfortable places to do this?"
"I remember," Peyton answers, though she really doesn't want to stop – she's willing to put up with the discomfort if only Jake will raise his hand a little higher...
"Well, I think we should explore that option," he whispers, kissing her cheek. He pulls back and looks down at her again, propping himself up on his elbows. "I mean, if you want to." He clears his throat. "If you want to do... this. I mean... We don't –"
Peyton laughs quietly. "Don't try and talk me out of it."
He grins. "No?"
She traces her nails over his back, her hands skating against his skin. "I'm not that uncomfortable, you know."
"I'm afraid I am," he mutters. He rubs his nose briefly against hers. "As romantic as all this star-gazing and night air is, d'you fancy finding a cheap hotel room?"
She laughs again and shoves at him, and he rolls away, his legs tangled in hers. They both thud and squirm in the narrow space of the backseat until they're sitting side by side, breathless, skin tingling. The night sky is high and lit up with stars. The moon is a thin, bright crescent, and the trees are shadowy and spidery in the silver light.
"You drive," Peyton says, running a shaky hand through her hair. She feels breathless and light-headed, and there's a deep throb in her chest and between her legs. She presses her thighs together for a brief moment and closes her eyes, trying to gain her breath back.
Jack brushes the backs of his fingers against her cheek before he lifts himself into the front seat, sighing as he settles behind the wheel. Peyton clambers to sit beside him, and she feels a new thrill race down her spine as he starts the engine.
Peyton can remember another hotel room similar to this. The memory fills her with tense anxiety – rain, worry and desperation, and Lucas Scott...
She closes her eyes and the memory is gone. This hotel room might be just as cheap and last-minute, but there's no fear in her stomach this time, and the night is clear and it's Jake with her this time, and she can't believe how lucky she is.
The room is cold – just as cold as it is outside – and the air is slightly musty, like the place has been closed up for a long time. The bedsheets are starchy and cold when Peyton pulls them back and sits on the edge of the mattress, waiting for Jake to come back with their bags.
She can hear a television in the next room, and she can hear traffic passing by on the road, headlights sweeping across the parking lot as cars pass through the main intersection of the small town.
Jake drops the bags at the end of the bed and swings the door closed, rubbing his cold hands together. "Isn't it supposed to be getting warmer by now?" he complains.
Peyton leans back on the bed, bracing herself with her hands. "Is that a subtle request for some body heat, Mr. Jagielski?"
"I got a room with one bed in it," he says, grinning at her. "How subtle can I possibly be?"
She laughs and reaches for him.
He takes her hand and sits beside her. "If you do want me to sleep on the floor, though, I'll go and get those sleeping bags –"
"Don't you dare." Peyton gives him a quick, sheepish grin, and kicks her shoes off. "I mean, body heat," she clarifies.
"Right," Jake agrees, running his eyes down the length of her legs. He sits beside her and uses his toes to nudge his shoes off his feet.
All the noise Peyton was aware of before seems to have gone. The silence is heavy and still and she's suddenly unaccountably nervous. She watches Jake ball his socks up and throw them carelessly toward the bags by the door.
He clears his throat and gives her a sheepish grin, his face shadowed in the dim light of the room. "I'm nervous," he says.
Peyton laughs and reaches for him, curling her arms around his neck to kiss him. "Me too. I think that means I like you."
"Oh," Jake says, and he sounds pleased. He kisses her again, once, and keeps close to her, nudging against her with his mouth and his hands until she's eased back against the flat pillows on the bed, her legs tangled loosely around his, his hips pressing between her thighs and his hand against the warm skin of her stomach.
"Your hands are cold," she whispers, closing her eyes.
Jake grins against her neck and rubs his thumb over the soft skin just below the cup of her bra. "I'm tryin' to warm them up," he murmurs.
Peyton smiles and takes advantage of the fact they're not crammed into the backseat anymore – she stretches slowly, her body lengthening and flattening beneath his, her breath sinking out of her as Jake's weight presses her gently into the mattress.
"You okay?" Jake whispers against her ear.
"Uh-huh." She breathes out contentedly, twitching when his thumb sweeps lightly across the cup of her bra, tracing the point of her nipple beneath the rough lace.
His tongue flicks against the curve between her neck and her shoulder, warm and wet, and she lets out another breath, slightly too loud, her body squirming beneath his. She can feel a deep, hot throb slowly starting to spread through her body, and her own heartbeat is loud and heavy in her ears.
She feels strangely outside herself – the day has been long and a little strange; so outside of regularity that she hasn't quite grasped it all yet. The fact that she's here, and happy, is difficult to absorb.
Jake peels her jeans open and glides his hands up over her waist and her stomach, caressing her skin, tracing patterns and soft pathways.
"Hey, Jake?" Peyton whispers in his ear, a flutter of nerves in her belly.
"Hm?" He kisses her cheek and clamps her earlobe gently between his lips.
"You've got condoms, right?" She blushes at the question, and then thinks it's stupid to be so embarrassed. It's an important question.
Jake's grinning down at her. "You don't think I learned my lesson the first time?"
Peyton rolls her hips beneath him. "You're a guy," she drawls. "Sometimes it takes a while for things to sink in."
"I'm gonna ignore that for now," he mutters, nuzzling against her neck. "I'll get you back for it another time."
She laughs, and then he answers her question.
"I got 'em," he murmurs. "Don't worry, okay?"
"I won't." She wraps her arms around him tightly and kisses him.
He sighs and presses his lips against her jaw and down against her chest, nudging the scooped collar of her shirt down. "You got any idea how good it is to be here with you right now?"
"It feels pretty good to me." She traces her hands over his shoulders and closes her eyes.
He presses one of her palms to his mouth. "I can't wait to go back to Tree Hill with you," he says. "I can't wait to bring Jenny home. I can't wait for things to be normal again."
"I can't wait, either," she whispers. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back against the flat pillows. "I dunno how things went so wrong."
"Me either." He pushes her shirt up and she lifts her shoulders and her arms so he can pull it away. She hears it drop to the floor, and for a moment her skin feels chilled, until Jake covers her again, his hands tracing nerves in her arms and across her skin.
"Please don't leave me again." She tightens her fists into his shirt.
"I didn't want to leave you," he whispers against her ear. "I never wanted to leave you. I didn't have a choice."
"I know." She's growing tearful.
He kisses her again. "You all right?"
She nods and smiles at him. "Yeah."
He grins back at her, and rolls with her across the bed in a tangle of arms and legs, clutching her tightly, kissing her, whispering promises and sweet-nothings she hasn't asked for, but wants anyway.
She thinks maybe she loves him.
It's raining when Peyton wakes up. Morning hasn't quite broken, though there's a blue tinge to the night that promises daylight isn't far away.
Jake's arm is heavy across her waist, and she can hear him breathing, deep in sleep. Content.
She slides slowly out from beneath his arm and disappears into the bathroom, feeling her skin tighten all over in the cold air.
He stirs when she climbs back in beside him, and she whispers an apology for waking him. He draws her close, spooning himself around her.
"You can apologise properly when it's daylight," he murmurs, and he bites the back of her neck gently.
She squirms with delight, grinning to herself. She can't remember the last time she woke up feeling so happy.
She remains awake for a while, listening to Jake fall back into sleep, his breathing deepening again. She thinks about the others boys she's slept beside – Nathan and Lucas – and she thinks about all the anger and hurt that has accompanied those relationships. She thinks about how much it hurt when Jake left, and she thinks about his face as he and Jenny had left that morning and she'd stood behind and watched the boat leave...
She thinks about how he never contacted her, but he kept her email folded up in his pocket. She thinks about how he dropped his life at seventeen to ensure safety and protection for his daughter, but came back the moment he learned Peyton was in trouble.
She rolls over and buries her face against his chest, closing her eyes, revelling in the closeness of him. It's harder to breath when she's so near like this, but she doesn't care.
It's worth it. It's all worth it.
"Hungry?" Peyton smirks down at the enormous breakfast that's just been set in front of Jake.
He smirks back at her, not bothering to lower his voice. "I worked up an appetite last night," he says. "And twice this morning."
"Jake!" She hides her face behind her hands, mortified and exhilarated. She can hear him laughing.
Peyton sticks to a plate of toast and scrambled eggs, a tall glass of orange juice to the side. Jake drinks coffee and eats a healthy serving of almost the entire breakfast menu.
The diner is crowded, though most of the patrons are tired truck drivers or businessmen driving through town.
Jake and Peyton have a booth to themselves in the back.
"Can I ask you something?" Peyton asks. She takes a sip of her orange juice.
"Sure."
"Why are you coming back to Tree Hill now?" she asks. "Nikki's probably still out there. She's probably still looking for you and Jenny. What if she finds you?"
Jake swallows his mouthful of egg and bacon. "You tryin' to talk me out of comin' home?"
"No!" Peyton says. She tilts her head and looks down at the table. "I'm just saying... Nothing has really changed, you know? What if Nikki comes back?"
Jake trails his fork through his scrambled eggs. "I've thought about that," he says. "But I don't really have an answer."
Peyton bites her lip. "Sorry," she says. "Maybe I shouldn't have asked."
"No, it's..." He shakes his head. "It's a decent question, Peyton, and I don't want you to think I'm just doin' this on a sudden urge, you know? It's somethin' I've thought about. It's somethin' I really want."
"I really want it too." She smiles at him over her juice glass. "I just want to make sure you've thought about it."
He slides his plate away and reaches over the table to take her hand. "I gotta think for Jenny as well as myself," he says. "I can't just do these things suddenly, you know?"
"I'm not saying that," Peyton says desperately. She swallows, suddenly feeling selfish. The reason she's asking is to make sure she won't be left alone again.
And what does it matter, really? Jenny has to come first.
"What if Nikki does come back?" she asks again. "Will you leave again?"
Jake shakes his head. "No. I'm sick of runnin'. If Nikki comes back, I guess she and I are gonna have to have a custody fight over Jenny." He presses his mouth into a thin line, and for a moment panic fleets across his face before he manages to reel it in again.
"Listen," Peyton says gently, "it'll be okay. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
Jake glances up at her. "Nikki's older than me," he says. "I dunno how many custody arrangements rule in favour of the kid stayin' with their seventeen-year-old father, who has no job and can barely claim to have an education..."
"They'll let you back into school," Peyton says fiercely. "They have to."
Jake looks amused. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah." She smiles at him. "And listen, half of Tree Hill will fight on your side with you, you know. Karen Roe would put a good word in for you."
"I don't think it comes down to good words, Peyton." He covers her hands with his own. "But thanks," he says, smiling at her. "And I promise I'm done runnin', okay?"
"Okay." She smiles at him and lifts his hands to press a kiss to his knuckles. "Let's just hope we can bring Jenny home and we can all live happily ever after."
He grins widely. "Sounds pretty good to me."
They hit the road again late in the morning, as the sun is approaching its full height in the sky.
Peyton's in the driver's seat, her slim fingers wrapped around the wheel and a smile on her face. The top is down again, the wind ruffling her hair.
Jake leans over and fiddles with the radio, scrolling through static and talkback programs. He eases his voice into a slick, 50s disc-jockey imitation, crooning about, "findin' a little somethin' for all you lovebirds out there on this sunny afternoon..."
Peyton laughs, watching him almost as much as she watches the road in front of her.
A loud burst of music comes clear through the static.
"Hey!" Jake cheers. "Springsteen."
"Springsteen?" Peyton asks. "Really?"
Jake squints at her out of the corner of his eye. "You don't like Springsteen?"
Peyton grins and shrugs. "I got a couple of his albums on vinyl."
"Oh yeah?" Jake grins back at her. "I was gonna say, this won't work out if you don't like Springsteen."
"That's a bold statement to make when you're sitting in the passenger seat of my car, Jagielski. You wanna get out and walk?"
Jake laughs and reaches over to put his hand against the back of Peyton's neck. His thumb strokes along the curve of her shoulder. "I'll be good," he says.
She smiles. The only disagreements she's ever had with Jake are mild enough to turn into jokes, and while she's not naïve enough to believe that's the way it'll always be, it's enough to make her feel safe and happy right when she needs it most.
"There ain't exactly much to see out here, is there?" Jake asks, stretching in the seat and resting one hand low against the Comet's steering wheel.
The sun is hot and starting to drift low in the sky. Peyton feels pleasantly tired and warm.
"I guess not," she admits, gazing ahead at the flat highway disappearing beneath them. "I don't mind."
She slides across the seat and rests her head against Jake's shoulder.
They've started heading south again, toward Georgia. Toward Savannah, and Jenny.
"You've been kinda quiet," Peyton says suddenly, squinting up at Jake.
"There's not much scenery to comment on," he says, motioning to the sides of the road. He grins down at her for a brief second. "Unless you're fishin' for compliments? Should I be reassuring you on the state of your hair?"
She almost reaches up to run her hand through her curls. She elbows him in the ribs instead. "Shut up," she says. She kisses the side of his neck.
"Nah, I'm okay," he says. He shifts in the seat again, and keeps one hand on the wheel before he laces the other through Peyton's fingers. "But I gotta ask you somethin'."
"What?" Peyton casts her mind back to their breakfast conversation. She figures they've already covered the worst scenario. She relaxes a little.
"I gotta ask you about Lucas."
Her heart simultaneously sinks and skips a beat. "Lucas?"
"Uh-huh." Jake chews his lower lip for a moment.
Peyton can almost hear him thinking.
"He called me... When you were strugglin', and... I mean... I don't wanna try to read things that ain't there, or try to figure out Lucas Scott's business, you know? He's got things goin' on, I get that." He looks down at her before he turns his attention back to the road. "Peyton," he says, and everything in his voice indicates he doesn't want to have this conversation. "Peyton, I gotta know... I'm comin' back to Tree Hill with Jenny. For good. To be with you. And I gotta know, is it gonna be you runnin' away this time?"
She's so taken aback by the question it takes her several long seconds before she can attempt a reply. "You mean, am I gonna run off with Lucas?" She pulls away from him to look up at his face.
He's tense and uncomfortable, and he doesn't look back at her.
"Lucas is just..." She sighs and sinks back against the seat in a slump. "I don't know, Jake. I mean – no, I'm not gonna run off with Lucas. I wouldn't do that to you. And I can't do it to me." She squeezes his hand desperately. "You both mean different things to me. And I want to stay with you."
He can't help but smile, but he still won't look at her.
Fear starts to roil in her stomach. "Can you pull over for a minute, Jake? I don't... We need to talk."
He lets the Comet coast to a stop on the wide shoulder beside the highway, dust drifting lazily in the still air as he shifts the car into Park.
He speaks before she can find a chance.
"I can't take a risk with anything," he says. He grips the steering wheel with both hands and looks down at his knees. "Jenny's already been shifted around and left with so many people, and –"
"I know," Peyton soothes. She runs her fingers through his hair and shifts closer to him, one hand on his arm. "Jake, I don't wanna make things harder. For you, or Jenny... or for me." She kisses his cheek. "Everything is so much better when I'm with you. Everything. We just fit... Don't you think?" She looks at him meekly.
He finally returns her gaze, and there's a smile on her face. "I'd like to think we fit, yeah..."
Relief overwhelms her, but she doesn't let it show just yet. She keeps her gaze level and her voice serious. "With you," she says, "I've got a best friend. And music. And jokes, and laughing, and oh, God – Jake, I just... I need all that. I need you. I feel like I've got someone at my back when you're around. Like if things start goin' wrong, it'll be okay, because I can always rely on you."
"No pressure," he jokes weakly.
She smiles. "Sorry, but it's true. You're like a lifeline. And I used to think Lucas was that lifeline – was my lifeline – but he's not. Because he's never there when I really need him. All I get with Lucas is hurt."
"He called me because he knew you needed someone," Jake says. "That don't sound like someone who's not there for you."
She shrugs and sighs. "It was you I wanted," she says. "And it was you I got, Jagielski. I guess you just have to trust me." She slumps back in the seat again, staring out over the hood of the Comet.
There's a smile in Jake's voice. "You managed to make that sound like a threat."
She grins at him, squinting against the sun. "Well, maybe it was."
He kisses her, cupping her face in his hands. "Guess we're both kinda gun-shy here," he says. "Let's take everythin' one step at a time and try to figure things out together."
"Sounds good," she agrees.
There's a little prickle at the back of her neck. She's disappointed the conversation had to come up at all. But there's nothing – nothing – which makes her doubt her faith and her choice in Jake Jagielski.
They buy fruit at a market in some little highway town with dirt roads and wide fields running against each other. It's late afternoon and most people are gone, the stalls all packing up, dust and the ripe smell of animals and cheap hot food still in the air.
The fruit is cheap, the vegetables too wilted to have a price at all.
They buy apples and bananas and stroll through the town side by side until they come across a park dedicated to fallen soldiers.
The grass is green but patchy. They claim the shade beneath a leafy tree and lie on their backs, staring up at the sky.
"We could make Savannah by tonight," Jake says, running his fingers down Peyton's arm before he takes her hand.
Peyton smiles and rolls onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow. "I bet Jenny will be excited to see you."
He chuckles, and the smile on his face is relaxed and genuine. "Hope so," he says. He looks up at her. "Would it make me a terrible father if I suggested we take one more night to ourselves?"
Peyton smiles down at him before she leans over to kiss him softly. "I'm sure you just wanna make sure you're well rested for the driving you've gotta do tomorrow, right?"
"Absolutely," he murmurs. His hand slides over her waist, beneath her t-shirt. "Just one more night where I can sleep right through..."
"She still wakes up at night?"
He shrugs and looks guilty. "She's been shifted around so much. It's hard for her to settle."
"That'll change," Peyton whispers. She smiles at him.
He smiles back. "Yeah," he says. "I guess it will."
The bed they share on their second night is covered in a patchwork quilt and eight pillows are rested against the headboard. The mattress sinks deeply, and springs squeal as Peyton shifts her weight into the middle.
She giggles and huddles under the blankets as Jake flicks the light off and hurries to her in the dark.
A bar two doors down keeps loud conversation and laughter drifting up into the night air, but neither Peyton nor Jake pay attention.
He traces her skin in the dark, his mouth closing over the curve of her shoulder, the soft swell of her breast, the flat plane of her stomach.
She keeps her eye closed, her muscles twitching, her breathing ragged.
They rest their heads on the same pillow and talk in low whispers, Jake taking longer to catch his breath, Peyton more hesitant when it come to telling secrets.
He tells her about the places he's been, always having to look over his shoulder. The time Jenny had a fever and he didn't sleep for three nights straight because he was so damn worried and so damn alone. All the times he'd wanted to call his mom, or a friend, just to hear a familiar voice, but he couldn't because he was too scared he'd leave a trail for Nikki to follow.
"And maybe it never mattered anyway," he says eventually, his voice heavy; tired. "Because I'm comin' home and she could just as easily be waitin' for me when we roll back into Tree Hill, you know?"
"Maybe you had to go away to realise how hard it was to do everything alone," Peyton says. "Maybe it'll be better this time because it'll be easier for you to ask for help."
He thinks about that for a minute, his brow furrowed in the dark, his hand still curled into Peyton's hair. "Maybe," he says. He shifts closer to her, just slightly, but enough so she can feel his chest against the bare curve of her breast.
As the night wanes on and the bar down the street eventually quietens and closes, Peyton finds herself unravelling her own jumbled thoughts, sorting through things she thinks he already knows, but doesn't necessarily understand.
She finds it hard to explain how difficult everything was without sounding like a melodramatic teenager; without it sounding like the problems of a poor little rich girl lost in the Big Bad World of high school drama.
"It's not like that," Jake reassures her, but she still feels guilty when it comes to assessing her own problems when she compares them to the scale of things Jake has faced.
"I wish my dad was around more," she whispers. "Never work away from Jenny, Jake. Even if it'll make you rich. She'll be happier if you come home at the end of the day from a job that pays minimum wage."
He kisses the top of her head and doesn't say anything, which she's relieved about. She doesn't want to hear any comment that could so easily turn into thoughts that equal why doesn't my dad want to stay home with me?
She broaches the subject of Lucas, tentatively. "I wanted to make it work, for the longest time," she says hesitantly. "And then Brooke got hurt, and I got hurt and Lucas got hurt, and it just..." She sighs and wraps her arms around him tightly. "I never felt... I mean... what I have with you. I never felt it with Lucas. And this is better, Jake. This makes me happy, instead of guilty or worried. This makes me safe." She blinks tiredly. "I think, even without everything else between us..." She trails off and puts her leg over his waist to emphasise their nakedness; their closeness. "Even without all that, I think you'd be my best friend."
They fall asleep entwined, their skin still glowing from sun and sex, Jake's hands splayed wide over Peyton's bare back.
The sky is overcast when Jake drives the Comet into Savannah. Drizzle dots the windshield, and the roof of the Comet is up for the first time since leaving Tree Hill.
"A bad omen?" Jake asks when he has to turn the wipers on.
Peyton grins at him. "Nah. Just the weather. Nothing more."
She watches him out of the corner of her eye as he steers through the streets. He's restless and nervous, but there's a grin on his face that more than makes up for the lack of sunshine, and his fingers drum against the steering wheel in a steady, upbeat rhythm.
"Man," he says suddenly, and he laughs, "I can't wait to see her."
"I bet she'll be excited to see you," Peyton says, smiling back at him. "And I bet your mom and dad will be pleased to have you both home again."
"That feelin' will stop as soon as she wakes up durin' the night," Jake says, but he shoots another grin at her. "You'll come by, right? I mean, a lot? Don't feel like you can't." He hurries on, his voice rambling as he hurries to fill any silences. "I still have that drawing you did."
"Try and stop me coming by," Peyton says. "And I'll fill the walls with portraits if you want me to."
He laughs again.
The Comet pulls up in front of a small, neat white house with trimmed green lawns and an elm tree in the front yard.
Jake practically leaps out of the car, and Peyton has to rush to keep up with him.
"Who'd you leave her with?" she asks suddenly, realising she has no idea.
"My cousin, Amy." Jake presses his fingers against the bell and bellows at the same time. "Amy!" He takes Peyton's hand when he steps back, and she suddenly feels nervous.
She's always known it, but perhaps it is only really starting to feel like a reality – Jake and Jenny come as a package. To be with Jake means being with Jenny as well, and Peyton suddenly feels woefully under-qualified and unworthy.
"What if she doesn't like me?" she asks in a sudden panic.
The door swings open before Jake can do anything to reassure her, and both Amy and Jenny smile up at Jake.
"Hi!" Amy says brightly. She pushes the screen door open and Jenny is already on a dangerous lean, her arms stretched toward Jake, a wide smile on her face.
"Hey," Jake says with relief. He wraps his arms around Jenny and bounces her gently. "You miss me?"
Jenny touches the stubble on his chin.
"She's just had lunch, so she's kinda tired," Amy says, leaning against the door jamb. "But of course she missed you."
"Sorry we took longer than I thought I would," Jake apologises. He turns and grins at Peyton. "Amy, this is Peyton."
"Oh, hey!" Amy says, extending her hand to Peyton, who takes it and gives it an awkward little pump.
"Hi," she says in return.
"Don't worry about it taking longer," Amy says, waving her hand at Jake. "We had fun, didn't we Jenny?"
Jenny is too busy exploring Jake's face with her hands to pay any attention to anything else.
The phone rings inside the house. "I'll get it," Amy says. "But come in, don't stay on the porch..." she disappears, but Jake has ignored the invitation to come inside. He kisses Jenny's tiny hands.
Peyton watches them with a smile. "How does it feel to get her back?"
Jake kisses the top of Jenny's head again, closing his eyes briefly, before he extends one arm out and brings Peyton closer, his hand on her shoulder. "It'll feel even better when we get her home again," he says.
Peyton puts her head against Jake's shoulder and watches Jenny's chubby little fingers grasp at the top button on her father's jacket. She's not sure what to say. This is what they've all wanted and she can hardly believe the moment is here. And Jenny looks so much bigger than Peyton remembers and she can't help but feel so worried that maybe as Jenny grows and changes, things between Peyton and Jake will change too, and it won't always be for the better.
She has no idea how to be a mother – or even a big sister.
"You know," Jake says to Peyton, "she loves being in the car. Sometimes when I can't get her to sleep, I put her in the car and drive around and she just – I dunno, she's happier."
Peyton smiles up at him. "Really?"
"Yeah." He passes Jenny to Peyton carefully, his fingers tracing gently through his daughter's fine, soft hair. "You two have already got a lot in common."
Peyton laughs and bounces Jenny gently in her arms. "Well then," she says quietly, "we're just gonna have to wait for a few more sunny days, aren't we, Miss Jenny?" She smiles at her. "The Comet is way more fun with the top down."
Jake's arms are around Peyton's waist, his smile directed at his daughter. "I have a feeling there are a lot of sunny days comin' our way," he says.