A/N: Yes, we all know now that these updates are getting longer apart than what they used to be. I guess the bright side is that I haven't completely abandoned this story, I've just been having some trouble with it. But to all my loyal readers and reviewers, I thank you so much for all of your support and interest. I'm still working on this one and hopefully I'll get the next chapter to you sooner than this one has come. Again, thank you all, enjoy.

--In The Shadows--

It's been a week.

One whole, long, drawn out week.

You're a little stressed, admittedly, but you'd never hold it against her. And it's not because of her you feel this way. It's the situation, the circumstances, the things happening that are getting to you somewhat.

You feel guilty that you are feeling this way.

But she assures you that she is confused and frustrated as well. That she doesn't expect you to stay with her and help her through this at every single step and turn. After all, this will be a long road ahead, getting her life back.

But you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

During the past week you have seen your best friend at her worst. She has put up her walls, tried to push you away, yelled, screamed, blasted music, and cried – doing anything and everything she could think of to just get you to leave her. Because she thought you would be better off with out her. She didn't want you to have to deal with her.

More secrets were revealed in this week.

Well, you're not sure you should call them secrets so much as filling in some of the empty pieces through the years.

You wish things had been better for her.

You wish you could change the past.

You just want her to be better, to not feel the way she does, to not be going through what she is.

In this past week you have learned not about the years she was missing, but the years she was here, right in front of you.

You figure that sometimes in order to move forward, you have to go back.

Or, as she tells you by way of a Stereophonics song, 'you gotta go there to come back.'

However you rationalize or absorb it, all you know is that there is a lot that needs to be sorted through for her to feel like she has told you what she needs to, to get to whatever point she is aiming for.

So this past week, you walk down your combined memory lanes and relive events through her eyes.

This week has been all about digging up the ghosts of the past and trying to finally lay them to rest, peacefully.

And you begin to really see.

One of the things she asked you about was if you remembered that time back when you were both thirteen, when your parents were actually home for more than a week that summer, and your mom took you both to Charlotte for a few days.

And you do, you remember how strange it felt because your mother actually was acting like a mother, like this was how she always was, it was so foreign to you. Well, not really, because for those few years you were friends with Peyton before her mom died, Anna was a mother to you, and you knew what you were missing out on from your own mother. But you did have that for a while; Peyton's mom – she loved you like her own.

So yes, you tell her you remember.

You both sit in silence for a while just remembering what that was like, how Mrs. Davis was suddenly the All-American mom. She took you shopping and to see the sights, whatever you two decided you wanted to do. She even let you two have your own hotel room so that you both could stay up late and watch movies all night, and then do it all again the next night, without bothering her of course. You and Peyton had so much fun those few days with your mom, and though you didn't understand it, why your mother was suddenly doing this and acting this way, you didn't question it.

Of course you found out when you got back why. Your parents then left for the duration of the summer, leaving you with the nanny. They didn't even bother to take you along. You figure this was the last time your mother was a real mom. Before then she had had her moments, few and far between, when she was motherly, as did your father sometimes. But this was the last time. And then they were gone and you figure you probably didn't see them for at least four months after you got back. That was the end of you having parents.

But that's not the point she's getting at here.

Both of your lives, since her mother died, you two were essentially parentless, it was normal for you. You like to think you raised each other seeing as how you spent most of your time at her house, away from your nanny, and while her dad was around more then, you can't really recall him actually being 'there.'

So the point, she gets back to, was the last day of that trip.

And you suddenly have to think hard for a moment trying to figure out what she means.

For the life of you, no matter how hard you try and think back, you just cannot remember that last day. You don't know why, you just can't. You figure it's one of those things that just fell by the wayside of your mind. No biggie, right? Wrong. You are about to find out just how wrong you are.

She stutters a bit and doesn't quite know how to start this next part of memory lane.

You get an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You don't know why, really. Part of you feels like you just know something bad is about to happen, be revealed. And the other part, it senses how Peyton is feeling, how she is sad and torn, already defeated by the past. How she doesn't seem to want to talk about this, but is going to anyway, for whatever reason she thinks she has to.

You urge her to continue…you are anxious to find out what it is that she can remember so clearly, while you haven't the vaguest idea.

She tries to find a way to ease into it, but just ends up diving right in sort of awkwardly and you take a moment to sit silently and just digest the end of what she just said, as it so clearly is screaming at you in your mind.

"…Your mother was screaming at you and was going to hit you, but I stood in front of you, hoping she'd back off, but still she went for it, and ended up hitting me, knocking me back as you caught me…"

You had put your hand up telling her to stop there for a moment, and you are still trying to process this all.

You wonder how it is that you don't remember a single thing about this day that is seemingly haunting her.

You allow her to continue after a few minutes.

You sit perfectly still, trying to absorb every word, every syllable that leaves her mouth.

You try and try to just remember one thing, anything at all about this day she is speaking of. Yet still, it is lost on you.

She tells you your mother seemed drunk, she doesn't remember all the details of why you two went to her hotel suite, probably something you wanted to do that last day. But your mom, she was blasted and in a bad mood.

She tells you of the screaming, at you, for being a spoiled little brat, for being worthless. You figure, given the fact that this is your mother, she had quite a lot more to say, but Peyton is probably trying to spare you, maybe playing this part off as hazy in her mind. Always trying to protect you, you think. You only hope that you have lived up to that for her as well, and if not, you'll try your hardest to make up for it now and in the future.

But back to your mother.

So apparently she's drunk, screaming at you, when you both were thirteen and in Charlotte on this spur of the moment trip – you know, to sum it up.

So…right, the yelling. She tells you that whatever it was – she's not even sure there was an actual reason for this behavior other than the empty mini bar – she's going on and then steps closer and gets within a few feet of the two of you. Well, Peyton says she was a little behind you at that moment, there were reasons why you two didn't spend a whole lot of time at your house when you were kids and into your early teen years when your parents were home – they tended to act like you mother apparently was on this day.

She starts describing the next part like she can see it in perfect clarity right in front of her now.

Your mother was flailing her arms and pointing her finger at you and then she saw her take another step forward as she called you a stupid mistake and raised her hand in a terribly menacing way. She then says she didn't even have to think about what she was about to do, she just stepped in front of you while moving you back behind her in one swift motion and took the blow to the face defiantly while you caught her from stumbling back. As soon as she caught her balance she shouted right back at your mother that she was a horrible mother to even think about hitting her child like that, to treat such a wonderful girl – you – like that, like she was less than her, when she was the best person Peyton knew, her best friend.

You take a slow breathe to continue your absorption.

And another.

She asks you if you want her to continue, and you do. You think you can remember something, but your not quite sure yet.

She goes on to tell you how your mother had a slight shocked look after that and she retreated further into her suite while the two of you went back to your room, you pulling Peyton along by her arm with alarming purpose and speed.

When you made it back, she says you grabbed her and held onto her shoulders, looked her right in the eye making sure you had her attention before she spoke, tears forming in your eyes.

And it is at this moment that you have a sudden flash of the past so overwhelming that the tears start to fall and as she is about to relate what you said, you beat her to it and repeat, word for word what you told her when you were just thirteen.

"Don't you ever do that again! You in no way ever deserve to be hit. You could have been seriously hurt…"

You then wiped away the small amount of blood that had come out of her nose.

And when you started to speak, those words that she obviously remembered so well, she scooted closer to you and wrapped you in a side hug, you resting your head on her shoulder and you grasped her hand beside you.

And you continued.

"…Damn it Peyton, don't ever scare me like that! I can't lose you, I love you! Don't ever put yourself in danger like that again. Promise me, please."

You broke down crying in her arms, then, when you were just barely a teenager. You feel like you want to now, too.

And she promised you then, she promised.

But you both knew that that was one promise that would be broken over and over on both your parts whenever the situation warranted.

Because you would do whatever you could so no one would ever hurt her. And like she did that day, she would try and do the same.

All either of you ever wanted was to protect the other.

Seeing how much just telling that story has taken out of her, you decide, well more like realize, that this really is going to be a long process. It's not going to be quick, or easy, or clean. It will be messy and hard and long. Sometimes painful.

You can tell she didn't really want to dredge up that part of the past, but you know she had to in order to…to what? To move past it, to make you feel worse, to make herself feel worse? You never did get why she brought that up.

So after you both have recovered some from the emotional toll that one rehashing has done, you ask her, you ask her why.

She doesn't have a straight answer right away. She looks at you and starts to say something only to stop and get a pensive look on her face. You figure she is trying to figure out how to explain it maybe.

When she does speak, you give her your full attention. You could never give her anything less.

She says that it's the past. The past is key.

And you have no clue as to what she means.

You see she is confusing her self a little here too.

She tries again. She tells you that it's the past that has made the both of you who you are today. That, maybe, has brought you to where you are now, where she is, has been.

Honestly, you're still a little lost. You just let her continue speaking, knowing that she'll eventually work it out as she goes on.

With a few moments of contemplative silence she informs you that you are her past.

And suddenly you are a little scared that she means that is all you'll ever be.

But she quickly resumes her explanation that is becoming really hard to understand.

She says that, prior to when she 'disappeared' and after you two met in early grade school, there was barely a time that you two weren't together, weren't making memories that have allowed your combined past's to become one. You share most of the same memories, and were always there for one another. Then she tells you you always will be. That right there was what gave you your confidence back, that foreshadowing or hinting at the future, together.

So anyway…oh, hell, you have no idea what the rest of what she said was. It was confusing. The rundown was basically, you both know what happened in the other's lives because you were there for it, so that gives you a strong bond that has always been there…or something along those lines.

But then she was talking about how some things, you weren't around for; you didn't experience with her, and know nothing about. Those are also things that have shaped her, have had great impacts on her mind, her life, and she so wishes that you would have at least known, but she made the choice to keep it away from you, in the shadows.

You feel that sinking in your stomach again because you don't know what she means. But it doesn't sound like most of these are happy memories.

You are about to ask what she means but she once again cuts you off. She tells you that she doesn't want to get into everything now, that she will tell you sometime, but that time is not now. She goes on to say that in addition to those separate past events or whatever is the distortion of memory. Meaning, basically, the deal with the trip to Charlotte. There are some things that you don't remember, or that she remembers in a different view than you might.

Yeah, you're still confused. Dealing with the mind, the past, all of the darkness, the shadows of her mind, your memory, it can have that effect.

You just hope that if – no, when – she tells you more, that you understand it better, that you can properly comfort her the way she needs it.

Because for whatever reason she has to be bringing up scattered happenings from long ago, you know that there is purpose behind it. You know she's trying to work through something and even if you don't get it, you'll help her, be her safety as she sails through the choppy waters of her life and rounds the shadowy corners of time to come out to a calm sea, a bright light of a promising future, a safe present so she can really heal.

You know you'll anchor her, steady her, so she can get there.

So she can heal.