Running to Stand Still
By Alaricnomad
Chapter Ten: Changes
Two years later:
Heavens opened above them, unleashing endless flurries of snow to blanket their mortal realm in white; continuous seas of white beneath skies resembling a patchwork quilt, a random pattern of blues and grays, dark shadows of winter clouds or bright patches of clear, sunlit cerulean. Beneath the occasional and cherished bursts of sunlight, the air remained crisp and cold, the sharp bite of winter not easily driven away.
Through a set of wide paned, twin windows two floors above the ground, a pair of emerald eyes stared out over the landscape, their brilliant fire faint and distant as their owner became victim to memories and ghosts of the past.
In the reflective silence that enveloped the dayroom, Peyton Sawyer could not help herself as her mind distanced itself, lost in memories of a life long since left behind, familiar and loving faces she remembered with all the clarity of yesterday. In the silence, the ghosts of her memory took physical, tangible presence, so sure she could feel the one she had left behind.
The quiet whisper of her name, the familiar voice colored by affection and tenderness, and the teasing lilt she knew so well. The phantom weight of hands on her, gently caressing, causing in her emotions she had never realized possible for her to feel. The warmth of a body beside her, strong arms holding and rocking her trembling body, protecting and sheltering her from anything and everything.
"Peyton? You okay?"
Peyton turned her head to face the woman standing in the doorway behind her, leaning her weight against the frame and watching the younger woman curiously. The curly-haired girl smiled. "I'm fine, Aly. I'm just watching the snow fall."
"You're thinking too deeply again, honey. I can see the memories in your eyes. They're so alive there it's almost as if I could live them myself. Is it really that hard to let go of the past?"
If there was one thing Peyton was grateful, it was the support and company of Aly Harp. Aly really was a lot like her older sister, though a decade younger- blonde and pretty, with a wry intuition and an artist's perspective on the world. Peyton had tentatively been in contact with her aunt after Ellie's passing, and it was to Aly she had gone after the mess in Tree Hill.
She had spent the last two years in Raleigh where Aly ran a popular nightclub with her boyfriend, Connor Wright. Over the years, Peyton had transitioned from bartending to managing the club. She made a good living, forged friendships not only with Aly and Connor, but the other employees and regulars, and found a family in her aunt and honorary uncle.
It was a decent life. She tried desperately to forget the perpetual feeling that something was missing.
She turned to Aly, trying her best to reassure her. "It's nothing, really. You don't have to worry."
Aly sighed, coming into the room to sit beside her niece. "Peyton, it scares me to see you like this. You seem so deep in the past, as if any moment you'll just drift away," she placed a hand on her shoulder, "I'm just afraid to lose you. We all are."
Peyton's eyes closed wearily, placing a hand over her aunt's. "I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize. I just want to know you're okay."
"I thought…I thought it would get easier with time," she sighed. "But maybe it's time to leave the past where it is. The future's what matters."
Aly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her hair. "That's the spirit, sweetie."
They were interrupted by a sudden cacophony of whimpering, discontented noises and both women turned to face the source of the sounds. Peyton crossed the room to the playpen in the corner, watching the little boy inside reach up to draw himself up to his feet. He gurgled at the sight of her, holding out his arms to her, "Up."
She picked the child up, "Hey, baby. Sleep well?"
"Ya," he gave her a happy, innocent grin and she cradled him at her hip. He wiggled in her hug, waving a hand toward the window. "'no. 'no!!"
"Yeah, baby. It's snow. Want to see?"
"See, see!! See 'no!!"
Aly was laughing softly at their interactions and Peyton gave her a smile, obediently carrying the toddler to the window to give him a clearer view of the snowfall.
Through the crystal panes of the windows letting teasing beams of amber sunlight fall into the room, they could see the shoreline below them, watch the glass cloud from the cold and let him trace his fingers along the cold surface, idly drawing random patterns typical of his boyhood. She fondly watched his ministrations, dropping a kiss to his head with a soft smile.
Winter in Maine really was beautiful. Between the snow and the water, it was unlike anything she had ever seen during her years in North Carolina. This vacation had been just what she (they, really) needed. She filled her days with painting the ever-changing horizons, walking along the frozen shorelines, and of course, spending her time- mostly playing in the snow- with her fifteen-month-old son.
He was the pride and joy of her life. These days, her world revolved around her precious child. For her, one life had ended, and another had begun, with Bry's first breath.
He snuggled against the crook of her neck, resting his head against her shoulder as he stared, entranced, out at the colorless landscape. She quietly studied her son. He was small, but healthy, his pallor flushed with hearty color. He seemed so tiny, fragile, but he was a beautiful child, the delicacy of his features echoing of his mother's influence, but from there on the resemblance to another was unmistakable.
Lucas Brian Robert Sawyer. The boy was so much like the sire he was named for, from the shape of his nose and mouth (the same odd-turned nose, that same full, sensual mouth) the slope of his eyes, the strong set of his jaw and cheekbones. There was a thick thatch of dusty-brown hair dotting his head, a shy, innocent smile on those familiar lips, those same ever-changing eyes (never able to decide what shade they should be- light or dark, blue or gray) holding the same gentle light.
There were some things she could never escape. Lucas Scott's memory was one of them.
--
She was awoken that night by a phone call, a shrill beeping coming from the cell on her bedside table. Spotting the time on the clock- three a.m.- she cursed under her breath, picking it up before the ringing would carry over to the crib in the corner "Hello?"
/Hi, honey./
"Daddy? What on earth are you doing calling me so late?"
/What time is it there? Sorry, honey. I'm docked in New Zealand . I didn't think about the time difference./
She sighed. "It's alright. I was just worried it would be too loud."
/Okay. Sweetheart, you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice./
She smiled. "The same to you, but as much as I love talking to you, Daddy, I know this must be costing you a fortune. Is there a reason you called?"
/As a matter of fact, yes. I wanted to talk to you about Christmas./
"I thought we went over this already. I'm spending the holiday in Maine with Aly and Connor."
/And I'd like to see you./
"Why don't you come up here? You came down to Raleigh the last couple of years."
/And I loved seeing you. But I think you ought to come down to Tree Hill./
Peyton tensed, sucking in a startled breath. "Daddy, no."
/You can't avoid it forever, Peyton. It's your home./
"No. My home's in Raleigh."
/Peyton…please. I want to see you, baby. I want to spend Christmas with you. But I don't have time to come up there./
She squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a shaky breath. "Let me think about it."
"So what's your biggest fear?"
Lucas crooked open one eye to watch the girl leaning over him, smiling down at him from where he was lounging on the floor. He reached up, brushing his fingers against her cheek as he gazed at her thoughtfully, "Dunno. Spiders?"
"Funny," she teased dryly, playfully pinching his cheek, "But seriously, what is it?"
"Honestly?"
Watching his face fade into a shuttered expression, Peyton frowned, reaching down to smooth his hair back against his forehead, "Well, yeah. You can tell me anything, Luke. We're friends, right?"
"Yeah, we are," his face grew solemn as he climbed to his feet, offering her a hand to do the same, "Come on. We should go to my room for this. If my mom or Keith finds out you're here, they'll tan my hide."
"Where'd you hear that phrase?"
"Whitey."
Peyton giggled as she imagined Whitey in all his Southern-boy bluster coming down a flustered Lucas. She'd seen enough at their practices. Following him, she enlaced her fingers through his as he led her to his bedroom. Amusedly clearing a few dirty t-shirts off the bed to take a seat, she looked up curiously at her companion, "So what's this all about, Luke?"
"You remember what your question was?"
"Yeah. What's your greatest fear?"
He gave a weak smile, rubbing at the back of his neck, "My greatest fear? That I end up like Dan."
"Luke…"
"I'm serious. So," he kneeled down beside her, resting his hands against the mattress on either side of her, "What if a couple years down the road, I let my HCM get to me. What if I end up bitter about not being able to play basketball? What if I end up like him?" His lips pursed into a frown, his forehead furrowing. "What about when I have kids? What if I'm as bad as him?"
"Lucas," she smiled softly, reaching over to take his hands, rubbing her thumbs over the centers of his palms, "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. You're ten times the man he is. You're not the type to let your downs get the best of you. If anything, you constantly rise above them." She gently kissed his hands. "And one day, you're going to make an amazing father."
He grinned shyly. "You really think so."
She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. "I know so."