Running to Stand Still

By Alaric Nomad

Chapter One: Little Mistakes

She would never forget what it was to see him as he came stumbling into her room that night, soaked to the bone and completely drenched from the tumultuous storm raging outside. She remembered rearing up in bed from the shock of his sudden appearance, warily watching the silhouette of his trembling form, towering over her, outlined with shadow.

He was shaking, rigid and tense as she rose from the bed and cautiously approached him, placing her hands carefully against his shoulders. His muscled were knotted and stiff beneath her touch, and she tentatively spoke his name.

"Lucas?"

Her voice was low, barely audible, but he seemed to relax ever so slightly, opening his eyes to look at her. Her breath caught in her throat at the raw, vulnerable emotion evident in their soft blue, the usually vivid hue dulled by the heartache held so poignantly in his gaze. He swallowed hard, turning his face away to stare dully at the floor. "Peyton…"

A low, strangled sound rose from his throat, and he was suddenly falling into her, his body wracking with sobs, his face wet with more than the rain. She leaned back, setting them both against the bed to support the sudden dead weight of his body.

Peyton wrapped her arms around him, cradling his head against her chest as he clung to her, crying quietly in muted sobs that quaked his whole body, causing her to hold him all the more closer, as if for once she could be the one to shelter him from the pains of the world and not the other way around.

She combed her fingers through his damp hair, soothingly rubbing his back as she whispered comforting, nonsensical words in his ear, unintelligible but for the reassuring utterance of his name.

"Luke…it's okay, it's going to be okay."

He buried his face in her chest, soaking the long t-shirt she used for nightwear but she paid it little mind, pressing a kiss to his hair, his brow. Slowly, the violence of his tremors began to quiet and his tears ceased to fall, and he relaxed against her, his eyes closing as his breath eased into a slow, steady rhythm. She would have thought him asleep if not for his soft, quizzical whisper.

"Peyt?"

She tried her best to smile for him, though the gesture came out pale and wan, but he would not have noticed anyway. His eyes stayed shut to the world around him, groping blindly for her hand, which she gave to him, and he gripped it tightly, their fingers enlacing as he raised the entwined limbs and pressed his lips to her palm. She smiled lightly at the affection. "I don't want to be alone. Could I…"

"Stay here?" He nodded numbly, and she made a soft sound of affirmation, smoothing her fingers down the side of his face, gently tracing the curve of his cheek. Lucas smiled at the caress, leaning into it. "Of course you can. Do you want to talk about it?"

He hesitated, licking his lips, and then tentatively nodded, scooting closer to her as they came precariously close to falling over the edge of the bed, adjusting to their new position as his body curled around her and his head fell into her lap, one hand still entwined with hers, the other fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

Any other time, she would have blanched at the intimacy of contact they had been sharing, but this was Lucas and now was not the time to think beyond him and her. Concern and more than a little worry filled her at the tired, stricken look in his eyes, as well as gratitude for the semblance of calm that seemed to settle over him as he pressed close to her.

No, she would offer anything she could and consequences be damned. She would give anything to ease the broken man reflected in gentle blue eyes the color of a summer sky.

Peyton pressed a kiss to his forehead, her fingers slowly stroking his hair. "Talk to me, Luke. Tell me what this is."

He averted his eyes, nestling closer as if still a child seeking a mother's comfort, and he began to whisper, his tone barely audible if she had not been listening for it. "Keith…Keith was everything to me, Peyt. He was like my father, and he made my mom the happiest I've ever seen her. And that bastard…he took that all away. He's my father, Peyton, he's my fucking father! How could he do something like that! How could he take away the one person…the one person who made me feel like I was worth something, that I could make something of myself. Dan fucking Scott…that son of a bitch is nothing but a goddamn murderer."

He shook, not from chill or tears but from pure intensity of raging emotions and his chest heaved for breath as she held him close, unable to offer more than the comfort of her presence as she closed her eyes, remembering.

The last few months following the school shooting had been hell for everyone, from the accident that landed Rachel and Nathan in the hospital and Cooper in an early grave, Karen's pregnancy and Brooke and Lucas' second scare, to the sudden revelation of Dan's involvement in Keith's death.

"It's too much, Peyt, I feel like I'm going to suffocate. The shooting…Keith…it all left such a huge gap in me…and now Nathan's pushing everyone away after Cooper didn't make it, and Haley's hurting and there's nothing I can do…and now Mom, Mom and the baby…"

Deb had been devastated at Cooper's passing and Nathan had had to deal with her as well as his own grief, only to have his world thrown for a loop once more by Dan's betrayal. He was on a downward spiral, pushing away everyone around him, including his new wife. Haley could only watch from the sidelines as her husband slowly died inside while pretending everything was okay, refusing to let her in.

With Dan arrested and awaiting trial for the first-degree murder of Keith Scott, the reopening of the wounds caused by Keith's death laid an extreme stress on Karen, resulting in her collapsing one day in her second month, landing her in the hospital. With her slowly recuperating, and Haley and Deb out of commission, the café was closed, meaning Lucas had to take on a part-time job to keep their finances afloat.

"It's too much, Peyt," he gasped out, staring at her with wide, desperate, pain-filled eyes, "It's too fucking much. It's going to kill me. I'm not enough. I'm not enough for anyone. I couldn't save Keith…I can't help Nathan or Haley or even my mom. I'm failing everyone."

"Lucas…" she smoothed back the hair from his eyes, touching her hand to his cheek, "You're not Superman, you can't save everyone. No one expects you to be anything but human, Luke. You can't take the weight of the world on your shoulders. It'll crush you."

He nodded with a moment's hesitation, and she took his face in her hands, gently guiding his face up to meet her eyes, "You understand, Luke? It's not your fault."

"Yes…I understand, Peyt," he whispered adamantly, raising himself into a seating position beside her, scooting closer to lean his head against hers, pressing his cheek to hers, "You're good to me, Peyton, too good to me."

"Someone has to be, Luke. The world's coming down on you, and you don't deserve that."

He snorted, his breath fanning across her skin. "Y'know, Brooke doesn't think so."

"You two on the rocks again?"

"Yeah. Last fight we had… I was late picking her up the other night, pissed her off, brought out a lot of the same shit and now we're on the outs." He laughed, the sound bitter and humorless. "Last I heard from her, she said I was a selfish asshole and she wanted nothing more to do with me."

She smiled softly. "I'm sorry, Luke," she replied, knowing how badly he and Brooke had been, on and off since the fight at Nathan and Haley's wedding, "She'll come around." She put as much optimism in her voice as she could, but with the way she felt about him, it was not easy.

Lucas smiled weakly. "Sure." He looked at her for a moment, his face so close, and he lightly skimmed his lips over hers in a whisper-soft caress, slipping his arms around her waist to bring her closer. He pulled back just a breath, cupping her face in his hands. "Peyton…you're always here…always here when I need you. I need you, Peyt."

His mouth slanted over hers, gentle but firm, her lips parting beneath his to allow him access, and he kissed her deeply, languorously, a flush of ardor and molten heat that enveloped them from first contact. A need, a want, so deep it touched the heart and the soul, that could not be denied, could not be refuted, could not be dismissed.

He pressed her back against the bed, groaning softly as his body settled over hers, and her mouth found his in another fervent kiss. His hands buried in her hair, tilting back her head to further deepen the kiss. A heat rose inside of him, a steady flame of desire that washed over him, a growing ache to be felt in every inch of his being.

Her hand slipped under the hem of his shirt, sliding up the smooth, sleek expanse of his back, felt the rippling of definitive muscles beneath her touch. He broke the kiss long enough to pull the garment over his head, tossing it to the floor without thought to its destination. He smiled down at her, running his hands down her sides and raining kisses along her neck and shoulder, down to the sliver of creamy skin exposed by her t-shirt riding up.

He hovered above her abdomen and lightly exhaled, his warm breath brushing against sensitive skin with all the sensuality of a caress. A shiver ran down her spine, warmth pooling in her belly as she drew his head up to meet her in another kiss.

There was something different about this kiss, something soft and sweet and warm, just a light press of her lips to his. He inhaled softly, nuzzling against her neck, his mouth pressing to her throat. "Peyt…"

"Hmm?" She gazed at him through half-lidded eyes, lulled into a languid, hazy state of pure sensuality by his ministrations.

He pressed a kiss to the place just below her ear, a shiver running through his body as he trembled against her, his skin cold to the touch as her hands splayed across his back. "Lucas?"

"Tell me to stop, Peyton. Tell me you don't want this, don't want me." He nipped at her neck, his trembling increasing. "Tell me you hate me…tell me anything…cause I want you so bad…I can't make myself stop."

Peyton closed her eyes, swallowing against the storm of emotions threatening to emerge, pushing forward until logic and rationale had no place in her mind. She skimmed her hands downward, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm them.

One night. One night, countless preceding mistakes, countless missed opportunities, countless forsaken chances. How much had they all gone through, how much had they suffered and given up? One night…could she have it?

She opened her eyes to meet his, expressive, vulnerable hazel-green to quiet, somber blue, and she touched her fingers to his cheek, kissing him softly. "I wish I could, Luke…but I can't…because I need you too…"

He took in a deep, shuddering breath, his body resting fully over hers. "Then," he said simply, his voice a low, husky whisper, "We're both done for."

His mouth closed over hers, all rational thought flew out the proverbial window, and passion took precedence, chasing away everything but that incredible heat sparked between them.