Her arms ache and her wrists are sore, probably more so than they would have been if she hadn't been futilely trying to tug them free since he'd left. She's long since given up though, resigned to the fact that she isn't escaping anytime soon. Her steadfast efforts have resulted in one thing only; discomfort. She's cold, the bedding is now neglected in a heap on the floor and her dress has hiked up and is offering little in the way of warmth. Any slight movement sends a twinge down her arms and her fingers are tingling with pins and needles.

She startles as she hears the loud bang of a door closing and vibrating through the wall.

'I-Ian?' She calls tentatively.

The thumps of heavy footsteps make her stomach flutter with apprehension. She's waiting for him to fly into the room but it doesn't happen. Instead a racket ensues from beyond her prison and her fear crescendos. Her heart races because he's clearly not happy and she doesn't want to be subjected to his anger.

Another stream of clattering sounds from behind the bedroom door and she curls onto her side as best she can and tries to pretend she's still alone but it's a pointless game. Because of course she can't. Her heart races and her fingers become clammy because she's been waiting desperately for this moment, for his return and now she wants him gone again. Her mind is reeling because something other than her has upset him and she's terrified as to what it is. She's terrified about where he's been and what he's been doing. He's been gone for what feels like forever and that alone doesn't ease the knots in her stomach. She doesn't want to know what he's done, is petrified that her whole world is about to be turned upside down because the only thing that is keeping her sane is remembering that the people she loves are still out there, are safe, are in Tree Hill where they should be.

His abrupt entrance into the bedroom moments later causes her body to convulse in surprise.

Her head whirls around.

'Hi baby' His smile completely contradicts his discernible unease. He's all but panting after taking his rage out on the furniture in the adjacent room.

His face is red and a sheen of sweat has his damp hair sticking to his head and she can truly say she's more scared of him now than she ever has been.

She shies back into the mattress as he skulks toward her.

'My, you just can't help but make a mess can you? Even when you're tied up' He kicks the bedding on the floor as he passes and she's bracing herself for his violence because despite his smiling face he doesn't look the least bit happy, nor sound it. But it doesn't come. His gaze traces down her 'Mm' His hand reaches out eagerly and her body jerks as his fingertips come into contact with her skin in the opposite way she'd been awaiting. But somehow it hurts just the same. He trails a path up her bare leg and she closes her eyes as it ventures up the inside of her lengthy limb. 'But how can I care when you look so lovely for me'

She wishes she'd not wriggled around so furiously in his absence because she wants the protection of her dress covering her completely, but as it is, it's rucked up uncomfortably and is an invitation to his unwanted attentions. And the way he's looking at her, she feels like she's naked.

'Ian' It's a weak appeal for him to stop.

He doesn't. His breath hitches as his fingers near her underwear and he suddenly lunges onto her.

She yelps and draws in a sharp breath as his heavy weight settles on her and she feels impossibly helpless because her arms are still secured above her head and she's completely vulnerable to him.

His hands run up and down her thighs before shifting her legs further apart to cradle him. She gasps loudly.

'Mm, this needs to come all the way off' He hoists the fabric of her dress up higher and she can literally feel the goose pimples appearing on her flesh as the skin of her stomach is exposed and she knows it makes no difference, knows that free or not she can't stop him, but just the same she'd rather have the option of pushing against his broad shoulders.

He kisses the spot just above her belly button and her brain and limbs can't seem to connect because her arms endeavour to escape yet again despite the ropes binding them.

'Wait aren't, aren't you going to talk to me?' She musters feebly.

His nose sweeps up her torso.

'What do you want to talk about baby?' His words whisper across her lips and she can't get her mouth to respond.

He smiles and she can see his desire for her is calming the manic look in his eyes and that's why when he kisses her a second later she dutifully reciprocates, that and she's terrified of the repercussions if she doesn't.

He grunts into her mouth and it reverberates against her lip and she can't keep up the act.

'Untie me' Her words are muffled by his mouth.

He seemingly doesn't hear her plea, or chooses not to.

'I missed you baby' One of his hands grips her hip while the other slips beneath her, cupping her back side and pressing her against him. 'Did you miss me?' He husks.

A nauseating whimper is brewing in the back of her throat but she refuses to let it escape.

'I'm sorry I was gone longer than I thought'

'What did you do?!' Her eyes are wide as she bravely speaks. Her question successfully diverts his attention from her body and she studies him apprehensively as she awaits his reply.

He doesn't answer.

'Ian'

His weight disappears most suddenly then but she still feels like she's suffocating.

He stays silent for a good while and then his voice sounds scarily deep.

'You did this. You made me do this' He harshly jabs his finger through the air at her.

'Wh-what? Wh-what did I do?' She stammers. She can feel herself starting to tremble and the sensitive chaff marks at her wrists burn with her insistent movements.

'I risked everything. You forced me to take action. I can't have you constantly thinking of him'

Her thumping heart skips a beat, the unpleasant sensation making her dizzy. Lucas. Lucas. Lucas. Please be okay. Please be okay. You have to be okay. She closes her eyes tight and pictures his face and hopes to god that she'll see him one day again. 'What did you do?' Her words are a breathy whisper and he's too busy pacing that he does't hear.

And it's too much. She can't bear his evasiveness, she needs answers and her desperation has her screeching.

'What did you do?!' Her shrill delivery actually makes him jump and he halts in his tracks. 'What did you do?!' She jerks her arms and the ends of the heavy rope sound loudly against the raw iron bars of the bed, protesting along with her.

He gazes at her vacantly and ungiving.

And as quick as her anger had had her screaming, it's gone, dissolved into desperation because her outburst is powerless, she is powerless.

He blinks and he's like jekyll and hyde because he's seemingly composed himself as he approaches her again and sits down, perching on the edge of the mattress this time, looking down at her sympathetically. 'I'm sorry sweetheart, lets get you out of these ropes, you look horribly uncomfortable'

Tears roll down her cheeks as she worriedly fixes her stare on his face and she can't wait, she can't be patient; she's unsettled and flustered and she needs answers.

'What did you do?' She dares to ask again, her voice choked and feeble.

'He's in your head but you're mine not his-'

'I know' She nods in agreement as though she can change whatever it is he's done by giving him the answers he craves.

'I warned you-'

'I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. What did you do Ian?' She begs.

'...I shot him'

He eagerly watches her reaction. It's like she's been paralysed. He's freed her wrists now but they stay rigidly fixed above her head as though they're still tied in place.

Her green eyes are glistening in the dim light, wide but unseeing and he wonders if she heard because she's not behaving as he'd been anticipating she would on his journey home.

He moves her arms for her and she makes a hissing noise and it's the first sign of life she's made since his revelation and it's that first whimper of noise that triggers her breakdown.

She shakes her head and tries to scramble back away from his reach but her sore arms aren't functioning properly yet and all she achieves is bashing her head on the wall.

She doesn't react; what's another bump to her bruised body? It's the last thing on her mind because no amount of physical pain can ever compare to what she's feeling right now. Of that she's certain. He could never ever hurt her as much as this.

'No...no...no-no-no-no!' She's uncontrollable and her chant is insistently repeated and he wonders what she's expecting to achieve by her dramatic song and dance, as entertained as he is by it.

She's scrambled onto her front, her head down against the mattress, her body rocking rhythmically and then every now and again her limbs fight against her self soothing, lurching out and thumping against the bed.

'You can stop with your temper tantrum he isn't even fucking dead' He finally spits when his ears can no longer endure her display.

Her head darts up, her face splotchy and tearstained as she looks at him. 'Wh-what?'

'Lucas fucking Scott. Isn't. Dead' He seethes.

'B-but- y-you s-said-'

'I said I shot him. I did, I shot at him but he was pushed out of the way'

She feels relief. She does. But she's not sure she believes him. She's not sure of anything, only that he'd be so cruel as to deceive her just so he can deliver the heart ricocheting news all over again.

'He's okay?'

His eyes narrow and she instinctively moves until her back is pressed against the cold wall.

'Lover boy is sadly fine' He grinds out and she's seen that look he's giving her. It's the look that had possessed him when he'd hit her over and over and she's anticipating a similar treatment because she can't hide her emotions, can't pretend, not when it's Lucas' life he's talking about. 'You shouldn't be happy Peyton, you should be disappointed'

She closes her eyes. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. She reminds herself. She doesn't dare say a word. Lucas is okay. He is. He has to be and if she's going to keep it that way she daren't respond to his riled declaration.

She doesn't feel like all is okay though. She doesn't feel like she's getting the whole story, she's not sure of anything and she's gone from being numbingly cold to sweating under the mental strain that's being inflicted upon her.

She keeps her eyes shut. 'Who p-pushed him? M-my Dad? M-my Dad p-pushed him out the way?' She shakes her head back and forth, pleading it to not be the case because it's suddenly dawning on her. Just because Lucas isn't supposedly shot it doesn't mean someone else isn't; someone intercepted the bullet that was meant for Lucas Scott.

'No. Not your father'

She swallows the lump in the back of her throat. He's okay. Lucas is okay. Dad is okay. 'W-who then?'

'Derek'

Her brow furrows and she strives to grasp his words. She doesn't understand. Her wet eyelashes flutter as she opens her eyes and regards him, her confusion apparent. 'D-Derek? B-but you're-'

'Not me. Your half brother' He clarifies, ending the complex conclusions she's haphazardly coming to by herself.

She's frozen again. Eyes staring at him long and hard and she still doesn't get it because he's wrong. 'Derek is o-overseas'

'Apparently not'

'He- he's a soldier. He's not in America even. You-you're wrong-'

'Well if it wasn't him, it was his doppelganger. He saw me and pushed him out the way and took the bullet himself.'

'He-he'll be okay though- r-right? H-he-'

'I wouldn't bet on it. If he'd not interfered Lucas would be dead and your brother would be just fine but he had to step in didn't he? I know you're not going to be happy about this but you'll see it doesn't matter, it's not like you knew the guy that well anyway. You've survived the most part of your life without him, it's no different. Not really. If anything it's probably for the best'

Her head feels heavy and her eyes sting as the relentless tears roll free silently. She feels concussed. She's in a state of shock and after her hysterical display just moments ago, fatigue has set in but she's oblivious to all of the shattering symptoms that are taking a hold of her body. Her ears are ringing loudly and all she can think is it's not true. He's lying. She won't accept it as the truth, not until she has proof. He's okay. He's okay. She'd never liked the idea of him being part of the army but right now she prays he's fulfilling his duties, anything but the alternative.

He reaches out and his fingertips have barely grazed her cheek when she's flinching away from his touch. She can't pretend it's okay right now, she can't play along when he's claiming he's killed her own brother. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.

She hugs her legs to her chest and slowly lays down.

'I had no intention of causing harm to him baby. I honestly didn't. This isn't my fault, you know very well who my target was. But this is all on you. It is. I told you to be good but you couldn't control yourself and I had to show you. I had to make you see sense and you forced me to risk our anonymity. I won't make that mistake again. I'll have to find other ways of teaching you'

His words are distant, her hearing lapsing but she does register his last words and she wonders if he was seen. Thinks he must have been. That, that was the cause of his anger more than anything, more so than hitting the wrong target. Because regardless of who he shot, it's still had the same effect, it's still hurt her and that was his intention. No, he was mad because he'd been close to being caught. She hopes someone saw something significant enough to lead them to her.

'You can sulk all you like baby but you're the one that did this'

She unravels then. Because he's right; she did do this. And she wants to take it all back. Every second of it.

And her silence is terminated by a tormenting mixture of desperation, grief and fear. She hurtles upright. 'I'll be good. Please, I'll be so good. Please. Please. He's alright really isn't he? You're, you're just teaching me a lesson aren't you? Scaring me-'

'Darling I'm a man of my word, you should know that by now-'

'I'll be good-' She shifts forward and all but crawls onto his lap, her hands locking at the back of his neck as she crushes herself against him. His brow raises in surprise but she doesn't hesitate, doesn't think, just does. She ghosts her mouth over his before teasingly trapping his bottom lip between her teeth. He groans and then she's crudely running her tongue soothingly over his swollen flesh before seeking out his own tongue to toy with. She kisses him hard and if she could have seen herself she'd have refused to believe it was indeed her but it's easy because she has a motive and she wants a truthful answer. She wants him to tell her it's all a lie, she'll do anything, be anything he wants if he'll just tell her none of it's true. 'He's okay isn't he?' Her words are breathy, almost sultry as she looks into his eyes.

'I told you sweetheart. I shot him'

Her limbs turn rigid and her expression transforms into a deathly glower and she suddenly can't get far enough away.

'Where are you going?' He drawls in entertainment as she clumsily stumbles and trips, landing on her backside on the floor at the foot of the bed.

'Away from you!' She cries loudly.

'You're a tease' He shadows her movements and crouches to try and help her up.

'Don't touch me! Don't you dare. Don't you dare touch me!' She haphazardly shuffles back across the floor. 'You're a murderer! I hate you!' Her back eventually hits the furthest wall and she huddles against it.

'I think you need a little alone time' He notes. 'I'll go and start dinner' He walks toward her cowering form before leaving and she shrieks when he roughly grabs her chin, directing it until she's looking up at him for his departing words. 'Don't you dare blame me for something that resulted from your own behaviour. You did this darling. Not me'