At The End of the Tunnel
An OTH FanFic
By AlexB
-Three-
These dinners were mandatory. They talked, he ate. The quicker he did and washed his dishes, the faster he could get out of here, and into his escape.
"Makes no sense that Whitey can't play the both of you at the same time." Dan shook his dark head. He couldn't be more disappointed if he tried. As much as he pushed it, it was looking like his sons would never be brothers. Dan had to set them on opposite sides of the table it was so bad. He shook his head, only sophomores on the team and his sons were acting like embarrassments to the game. To him.
"Nathan, what happened with you and Peyton today?" His brother's mother asked. Lucas looked up from his plate to see Nathan pushing his food around his plate like a mulish four year old.
"Nothing." He muttered. "Just a fight is all. Wouldn't even let me apologize."
"There are other girls out there, son." Dan told him. "But right now skirts should not be your concern."
Lucas sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes, he sighed. Nathan cut a glance his way. "Got something you want to share with the rest of the class, loser?"
He smirked, sliding his chair back; he tossed his napkin to the table next to his plate. Oh, yeah. Lucas had something to say, and he was damn sure that boy wonder wouldn't like any of it. He wanted Peyton and had no qualms about snatching her right from under Nathan's nose. He didn't deserve her. Lucas would treat her like she was worth something. But he wasn't going to upset Deb's table. Lucas wasn't going to disrespect her dinner. That was Nathan's job.
Looking the woman in the eye, Lucas said, "Thanks for dinner, Deb." To Dan he asked. "Can I be excused?"
"No." Dan pointed to the seat that Lucas had just vacated. "Sit." And Lucas sat. He learned a long time ago never to give them what they wanted. Dan expected a fight, wanted a fight, because that meant that he could get to him. And he would be right. Some nights, the man did.
While Nathan smirked into his plate, Deb tired to reason with her husband. "No." Dan told her. "He can sit right there until the rest of us finish." Pointing his fork at Nathan, the man went on. "Forget about girls." He told him. "You don't have time for them right now anyway. I talked to your coach today and your teachers. Your grades are slipping, and you have two choices. Ask for help," Dan jabbed the fork. "Or get some that you don't want." He finished pointing the fork in Lucas's direction.
Nathan glowered at his father, and Lucas just stared. Deb touched her son's shoulder. "You and Peyton will work it out." Nathan shrugged.
"I'm not about to go crawling back to her. She wouldn't let me apologize. Her loss."
"There are more fish in the sea, son." Dan spoke between bites. He could care less who he is son was dating. School and basketball were the tickets here. "You don't need to be involved in anything serious anyway. You're too young."
If anyone knew, it was his father, Nathan thought with a look down the table. Lucas sat there, his plate empty, lounging back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest.
Finally having enough, he pushed away from the table, Lucas cleared his plate. He ignored his brother's complaint and the finger that Dan pointed at the chair that he had just vacated. Lucas held fast. He'd had enough for the night and he told the man so.
"I'm sorry if I don't want to sit and listen to you ride your son." He continued. "I have homework to do. Excuse me."
Leaning back in his chair, smirking grin on his face, Nathan shook his head. "Only one of us can be the good son."
"Nathan!" Deb hissed. Lucas stopped in his tracks. He kept his back to them. He had pushed and he had pushed, trying to make him snap. The best defense against someone like him was to ignore him. But this...this Lucas wasn't about to let go.
He turned back to them slowly. Dan watched him not saying a word. Deb too. Nathan waited. He knew that he hit his mark. He finally broke through the iceman's armor. "Keep it up." Lucas spoke. His eyes held no emotion. They were utterly empty, and Nathan hated the splinter of fear that skittered down his spine.
"Keep pushing me, Nathan and your finally going t find out what's its like when I push back."
"I'm scared, Lucas, really."
"Alright," Dan's voice rose. "Enough."
"I'm not afraid of him, Dad."
"And I'm just biding my time." Lucas said. "You think I like living here in this house with you and him?" He nodded in Dan's direction. "I hate it here. But you already know that. I won't have to spend another minute in a family that isn't mine."
"We've tried to be, Lucas." Deb spoke quietly.
"You never let us." His father accused.
"You can't erase her!" Lucas shouted. "You never let me have anything of my mother. Nothing. You took me away from the only father that I had ever known. Never once did you try and make it easier for me. Because it's never about me. Couldn't be when everything is about you. I shouldn't have have to fight like this just to keep a piece of her. Of myself.
Dan stood. "That's enough."
"Because you say so?" Lucas challenged. "Fine. You can't take what I've already got. I won't let you. I'll be eighteen soon enough. You can go back to having just one son. I'll have no problems going back to not having you as my father." To Nathan he said, "Peyton Sawyer deserves better than you."
-
Dan had stopped them before fists could fly, but Lucas hadn't been worried. He hadn't taken back what he said either. Peyton did deserve better, and Lucas wanted to be her better. He intended to be her better.
Lying in bed that night, he couldn't sleep for thinking about her. The way she smelled, the way she felt. Kissing her had been something else entirely. He couldn't find it in himself to feel guilty about it. Not because he felt any loyalty toward his brother, but because it had felt right.
Looking out his window, he thought about going to her. Would she turn him away? He could go, or, she could come to him. Peyton still had his sweater. He hadn't let her it give it back. Would she come to him tomorrow, or would she wait?
Unable to lie there anymore, Lucas threw his covers back. The light from the night outside his window cast his half naked body into a blue hue. He felt like he was suffocating inside this room. Slipping a T-shirt over his head and a zippered jacked over his shoulders; Lucas slid opened his bedroom window climbing out on the ledge of the house. He hadn't done this in years. Just like riding a bike, he thought.
On impulse, Lucas walked to the house where he had spent his first years. He couldn't remember much, but his uncle had been right when he had said "our" house. He could remember Keith being there. Sitting with him on the porch swing reading comic books. Comic books? Lucas hadn't remembered that before. His mom used to take him out to the mail box. She used to let him open it and flip the up the red flag. They used to sit on the porch and wait for the mail man.
The letters were faint, but you could see the letters R-O-E on the side. He'd painted them there. Lucas moved up the walk and on to the porch. It was a wrap around. A memory flashed of him running the distance around, his mom hot on his tail. Laughing. He remembered her laughing.
Hand on the doorknob, he turned it and got nothing. It was locked. He couldn't remember where there was another key. If there was another key. It was too dark to look in the windows, but not caring, Lucas cupped the sides of his face over the glass on the front door, looking in.
He wasn't sure how long he sat on the porch swing before he moved away from the house and its memories. He was glad that the door was locked. He didn't want to be in there alone. He and Keith would do it together. Lucas thought about going to see him, but shot that thought down. That would be the first place that Dan would look. And he wasn't ready to see his uncle again just yet.
So he just walked. He'd come out for the air. It was cold, but nothing that he couldn't handle. Lucas kept walking until he found himself in front of a house with a single light on. Her house. Peyton's house. Her car was the only car parked in the driveway. Lucas looked at his watch, pressing on the built in light to see the time. He hoped that at three in the morning that no one was up to see what he was about to do.
He wouldn't tell her that he climbed on her car to get on to her garage. She'd kill him. Not because he could have broken his neck, but because he'd had his feet on her paint job. Lucas grunted with effort as he strained his arms pulling himself up far enough to throw a leg over the top of the garage. When he managed that, he hoisted himself the rest of the way.
He walked the eave outside the lit window and looked in.
Peyton lay on her back sleeping. One arm was flung out to hang over the bed. There was something clenched in her hand. Maybe a pen or a pencil. Her other arm was crossed low over her stomach, her head was turned to the side away from him, her hair fell over her forehead and on her cheek.
Lucas tapped on the window. Peyton stirred, but she didn't wake. He tapped again and her hand moved to push her hair out of her face. She turned on her side facing the light, reaching out with the arm that had been on her stomach to hit the snooze on her alarm clock.
He knew the moment she realized that it wasn't the clock that woke her. She dropped whatever it was she had in her hand on to the sketch pad that sat on the floor at the side of her bed. She reached out to turn out her bedside lamp, but stopped when she heard tapping again.
-
Glancing toward her window, Peyton froze. She wasn't afraid, but she knew that she should be. She was all alone in this house and there was someone outside her window. When Lucas pulled the hood from over his head, Peyton couldn't make her throat work to swallow.
A dream. This was a dream. It was a dream. It had to be. Pushing her covers aside, Peyton threw her legs over the side the bed. Standing, she shivered with the chill that washed over her. The hardwood floor under her feet was ice cold. She stood there for a moment then another, rubbing a hand up her bare arm.
Walking to the window, she unlatched the lock. Lucas never took his eyes off her. She shivered again but for another reason altogether. Letting out a shuddering breath, Peyton pulled the window up and open.
All he had to do was reach out and touch her. She wouldn't pull away from him, Lucas knew. The look in those gold-green eyes told the tale. "What are you doing here, Luke?" The slow drawl of her voice was like an aphrodisiac. Music was good. This was better.
"It's cold, Peyton." He replied softly. "Are you gonna let me in?"
She shook her head. "Lucas,"
"I couldn't sleep."
Peyton looked at him incredulously. "So you walked two city blocks to come see me?"
"No," he shook his head. "I went home first."
She frowned. "Home? Lucas I don't-"
"Are you gonna let me in?" She hesitated then stepped back rubbing her chilled hands over the gooseflesh on her arms. She turned away before he completely stood. "Your sweater's-"
The hand he put on her shoulder slowly turned her around. His palms were cold on her face. She reached for them with her own chilled fingers. Peyton meant to pull away, but she ended up only watching his eyes as Lucas's head lowered. She looked to his mouth, once, twice, and then her eyes fluttered shut.
She didn't dare try and stop the sound that bubbled in her throat at the rightness of the moment. It wasn't possessive. It didn't imply that more had to happen. But if Peyton had never felt want before, she was feeling it now. She was feeling it from him. She was getting it from Lucas.
Breathing hard, they rested their heads together. He wasn't about to apologize. Not for this. "This is so not a dream." He heard her speak. He smiled.
"Not a dream." Lucas told her. "I'm just as real as you are. So is this. Are you mad?"
"For what?"
"That I came here." She knew that she should be. Peyton had told him earlier that it shouldn't happen. And not just because of her relationship with Nathan. She was in the wrong there she knew that. They were in the wrong here, but she couldn't make herself stop it. Right now, she wanted to kiss him again.
"Why are you so good to me?"
Lucas brushed his lips across her forehead. "Someone has to be."
"Oh, thanks." They laughed together. "I want to be." He told her. "How about that?"
Stepping completely away, Peyton looked him in the face. He wasn't lying to her. Lucas wasn't hiding from her either. "What did you mean when you told me that you went home?"
He slipped his hands into his pockets. Lucas had never liked to talk about it when he was younger because he always felt like that scared six year old when he did. But his found himself talking to her anyway.
"My mom died when I was six." Lucas told her. "She was coming home from the diner and was hit by a drunk driver who ran a stop sign."
Peyton knew the story that everyone else knew. Their classmate's father was in prison now because of it. And Dan, Lucas's father, had been made out to been made out to be some kind of hero because he had taken in his son. The son he should have been taking care of in the first place, her dad still said to this day.
"When Dan came..." Lucas let his words trail off. "I had just lost my mom, and I didn't even know him. And Keith, my uncle...he had always been there. He was dad to me.
"But I didn't have a choice." He went on. "I was taken to a place where there was another boy who didn't like me for some reason, and a woman who wasn't my mom." He laughed softly. "I didn't like him either. First night there, Nathan bitched and moaned about me sleeping on his Spiderman sheets. And Deb, she tried, but she wasn't mom." Lucas shook his head. "Dan. Dan didn't want me to remember her, and he still doesn't. If it wasn't for Haley and her family..."
Peyton had since taken a seat at the foot of her bed. Lucas sat down next to her. "First time I ran away was ten days later. On my birthday. Dan had gotten me this new bike. I rode it all the way to the body shop. Uncle Keith had gotten me these Star Wars action figures. Never took them out of the box. Didn't want to ruin them." He explained. "Last time I ran away was when I got this." Lucas touched the faint scar on his chin.
"Nathan had melted what my uncle had gotten for me. I don't know why he did it, and I didn't care. It was just the fact that he did. I remember being so mad I couldn't even think straight. I hit him first, and the rest was is a blur. The fight anyway. Keith turned me away that day and I never went back. Never spoke to him until today." Lucas smiled.
"Home is where I grew up with Keith and my mom. She left the house, her half of the diner. Everything that she wanted me to have is all there waiting for me. Mom was smart," he continued. "Putting everything in trust for me. Trusting my uncle and MJ to keep it all safe. Dan would have sold every last thing that he could and threw away what he couldn't."
What was she supposed to say to that? He looked so lost, so far away from where they were sitting. Lucas literally stared at nothing. Lost in his own thoughts, he was probably remembering it all over again. Peyton was sorry that she had asked. Who in their right mind would want to go back to all that? She never would.
"I'm sorry about your mom." His words startled her. Peyton's head snapped to look at him, her eyes wide. She turned away quickly when she felt the burn of tears behind her eyes. Any attempt at speaking would have been a waste, so Peyton said nothing. "I'm sorry." Lucas said again. "I just thought that you should know."
When she could, Peyton moved away. She walked back around to the side of her bed, slipping under the covers, burrowing into them.
"You want me to leave." His words weren't a question. If it was what she wanted, Lucas would go. But Peyton was going to have to open up her mouth and tell him.
He moved from the bed now, too. Pulling her chair away from her desk, he sat on it backward waiting. Her back was to him, her hair curled to the pillow behind her. Lucas watched the rise and fall of her body as she breathed.
Closing her eyes to will them away never worked, so Peyton let the tears come. She cried them silently. He wouldn't leave, and that was good, because she didn't want him too. When the worst of it was over, she wiped the wetness from her cheeks with her sheets. After letting out a shaky breath, Peyton told Lucas that she was sorry about his mother, too. She had only been ten when her mother was killed. Lucas had only been six. None of it was fair.
"Thank you."
Lucas nodded, studying his fingers. "It doesn't go away, Peyton." He told her. "The gaping hole, that loss. But, and this is going to sound really twisted, but I don't see myself without it. I can't. At least not now." He heard the squeak of the mattress springs, but didn't look up.
Peyton had rolled over. She was watching him now. "I would rather feel the loss than nothing at all. It's masochistic, I know." Lucas lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "I just want her back. But that's not going to happen. I've forgotten so much already and what little I do remember is fading fast. I know that I have people, Haley and her family, my uncle," Lucas shook his head. "But that's all second hand."
"It's going to eat you alive, Lucas." He looked up and was caught in her gaze. Her eyes were sad, but they knew, too. "If you let it, that hole will swallow you. I know. It's swallowed my dad. When he comes home he's like a ghost." She shook her head. "You don't want that. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy."