"I see your face in my mind as I drive away, 'cause none of us thought it was gonna end that way."
Breathe, Taylor Swift
Clay walked into the house, dropping his keys on the table near the door. He walked into the living room and Quinn stood up from the couch. Clay sighed, holding out his hands.
"I'm sorry. Quinn, I just—"
He stopped, closing his eyes as Quinn wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his neck. Clay swallowed, wrapping his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. Quinn pulled back, taking Clay's face in her hands and kissing him. She pulled back, smiling at him as she gently ran her thumbs down his cheeks.
"What, baby?"
Quinn smiled through the tears in her eyes.
"Did you see her?"
Clay let out a sigh, shaking his head.
"No, I … I couldn't bring myself to go in."
Quinn let out a laugh, and Clay shook his head.
"Babe, I think you might be losing it."
Quinn shook her head.
"No. No, baby, I just …"
She sniffled, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
"Maybe she saw you."
"Who, Lydia?"
Quinn nodded. Clay reached down and took her hands.
"I don't understand."
Quinn took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she smiled, fresh tears appearing in her eyes.
"The doctor called. Lydia had a breakthrough."
"What?"
Quinn nodded, smiling as a tear rolled down her cheek. Clay absently reached up, wiping it away with his thumb, cupping Quinn's cheek in his hand. He shook his head, and Quinn reached up, wrapping her hand around Clay's wrist.
"She spoke. She told the doctor that she wants help."
"What?"
Quinn let out another laugh, nodding her head. She sighed.
"She, um … She told the doctor that she had stopped taking some of the pills they'd given her, and that she had a bunch of them hidden beneath her mattress. So the doctor thought it would be a good idea to move her into a kind of solitary confinement, I guess? There will be someone watching her constantly now. She won't have a chance to be alone."
"She's okay, though? She didn't—"
"No, no honey. She's okay. The doctor is very optimistic, she said."
Clay nodded, then brought his eyes to his wife's.
"Quinn."
Quinn watched as Clay's eyes filled with tears.
"She's going to be okay?"
Quinn smiled, nodding as tears filled her eyes again.
"She's going to be okay."
Clay laughed as the tears began to fall, and he pulled Quinn close to him, holding her as they both cried.
"I don't know what to be without you around; you're the only thing I know like the back of my hand."
Breathe, Taylor Swift
Jude walked into the house, looking around the corner as he hung his keys near the door. He stepped around the corner, coming to a stop when he saw his mother standing in the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest. Jude gave a small smile, and Brooke raised an eyebrow. Jude sighed, and Brooke held up a hand.
"Do not."
Jude nodded, hanging his head. Brooke sighed.
"I don't know whether I should kick your butt or hug you. What the hell were you thinking, Jude?! Leaving like that, not giving me any idea as to where you were going?"
"Mom, I just—"
"Do not, Jude."
He nodded again, and Brooke sighed again.
"You scared me. Really bad. And I do not appreciate you ignoring my calls or the way you talked to me when you finally answered the phone."
Jude stared at the floor, then lifted his eyes to his mother. Brooke sighed.
"Now you can talk."
Jude sighed.
"I know that you're mad. And I'm sorry. I really am, Mom. I'm sorry for making you worry about me. But I am not sorry that I went."
He looked up, meeting her eyes again.
"I'm not apologizing for going. I'm apologizing for making you worry and freaking you out."
Brooke nodded.
"Was it worth it?"
Jude sighed. Brooke took a step forward, laying her hands on the counter and leaning forward.
"What was she like?"
Jude looked down, then met Brooke's eyes again. He took in a deep breath.
"I didn't see her."
Brooke raised an eyebrow, and Jude sighed.
"Clay was there. Guess we had the same idea. And he was just sitting on the steps. But we … We talked. For a long time."
When Jude went quiet, Brooke leaned over, taking his hand.
"What did you talk about?"
Her voice was quiet, soft. Jude shrugged his shoulders, looking down at their hands. He spoke just as softly.
"Lydia. Clay was really upset, and he couldn't … he couldn't go inside. He blamed himself for what happened, and … I don't know, I did, too. I mean, I didn't blame him, but … me."
"Honey."
Jude sighed.
"I know. And Clay helped me realize that it wasn't my fault. And it's not his, either. It's nobody's fault."
Jude nodded, and looked up at Brooke then, and smiled.
"I'm okay, Mom. I think … I don't know. I feel like something's changed, you know?"
"Like how?"
Jude shook his head, keeping the smile on his face.
"I don't know. But I feel better. I'm not so weighed down anymore. Like a weight's been lifted off of me. It's not my fault that Lydia's sick. It's no one's fault. And there isn't anything I could have done differently to change anything."
Brooke gently squeezed his hand, looking to the side as her phone started to ring.
"Grab you something to drink or something. We're not done here yet."
Jude nodded, going to the fridge as Brooke answered her phone.
"Hello? … Oh, hey Quinn. … No, he just got here. … Wait. … What? … Are you serious?"
Brooke turned and looked at Jude, tears in her eyes as she covered her mouth with a hand. Jude set his bottle of water aside, stepping over to his mom. Brooke shook her head as tears slid down her cheeks.
"No, thank you for calling. … I will. … You, too. Bye."
Brooke hung up the phone, putting her hands over her mouth as she cried. Jude shook his head, finally reaching out and taking hold of Brooke's shoulders.
"Mom, please. What? What's wrong?"
She looked to him.
"Oh, honey."
She smiled, reaching out and smoothing Jude's shirt over his shoulders. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks, but she kept the smile on her face.
"Mom?"
"It's okay, Jude."
She looked to him, cupping his face in her hands.
"The doctor called Quinn. It seems like Lydia had a breakthrough today."
"What? A breakthrough? What does that—what does that mean?"
"She talked. And she told the therapist that she wants help."
Jude sucked in a breath, shaking his head.
"Wait. What?"
"She's responding to the treatment, honey. She's going to finally start getting better."
Jude nodded slowly, and tears welled up in his eyes before he turned and hugged Brooke. She smiled and closed her eyes, holding one hand to the back of his head, the other wrapped around his back as he cried.
"It's okay, sweetheart. Everything's okay."
"Mom."
"I'm right here, honey."
"She's getting better?"
Brooke nodded.
"Yes, my love."
She pushed him back, gently, wiping the tears from his face.
"It's going to be okay now, Jude."
He let out a long breath, leaning forward and hugging Brooke again, and she held him close, stroking his hair.
"People are people and sometimes it doesn't work out. Nothing we say is gonna save us from the fallout."
Breathe, Taylor Swift
Peyton hung up the phone and hung her head. She gripped the edge of the counter for a moment, shaking her head, then straightened. She let out a long breath, then walked into the living room. Lucas looked up from his chair, going to stand up and stopping when Peyton lifted a hand to him. He settled back down, and Peyton crossed her arms over her chest.
"That was Quinn. Lydia had some sort of breakthrough today."
"What?"
Lucas shook his head, eyes wide and hopeful.
"What does that mean?"
Peyton sighed, lifting a hand to push her hair away from her face.
"I'm not sure, but Quinn assured me that it's a good sign."
Lucas smiled.
"Peyt, that … That's great!"
Peyton nodded, then turned away from him, walking out of the room and down the hall. Lucas sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. He stood up, turning around and stopping when he saw Ellie standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, looking exactly the way her mother had just a few moments earlier.
"El, hey. Did your mom tell you the good news?"
Ellie nodded.
"Lydia's getting better."
"Yeah, isn't that great?"
Ellie shrugged her shoulders.
"I don't know, does it mean you can get better now, too?"
Lucas stopped.
"Ellie."
She rolled her eyes, blowing out her breath, every bit the teenager she was. She turned away from Lucas, walking down the hall, and he heard her door shut a few seconds later. He let out a breath, walking out of the living room and closing his eyes as he laid his hands against the kitchen counter.
Truth be told, he was itching for a drink. But he wasn't an alcoholic. He'd done this before. Things got bad, and Lucas Scott tended to drown his sorrows. The last time he could remember was when Lindsay left him at the altar. Boy, wasn't that a lifetime ago? Lucas smiled, stepping over to the refrigerator, opening it and seeing the beer in the bottom drawer.
Beer wasn't that bad, right? Hell of a lot better than whiskey. Lucas pulled out the drawer, grabbing a beer and twisting the top off. He took a long drink, shutting the refrigerator, stopping when hurt blue eyes met his.
"Sawyer."
She nodded, a hard smile on her face.
"And here I was, getting in trouble for being such a brat towards you. Because you were doing all you could 'to get better for us.' Mom's exact words."
Lucas swallowed, setting the beer on the counter.
"Oh, no. No. Don't stop on my account. That never held you back before."
"Honey—"
"Don't you dare 'honey' me. You walked out on us. You're back because Mom wants you here, because Ellie still has faith in you. But I'm fresh out."
Sawyer pushed away from the wall, walking towards the door.
"Where are you going?"
She turned back, that same cold smile on her face.
"Anywhere but here? Anywhere I can find that's away from you?"
"Sawyer, I know you're mad at me, but I'm still your dad."
"No, you gave up that title when you WALKED OUT ON ME. When you left me, you left that title behind, too."
"Sawyer—"
Lucas' sentence was cut off by the slamming of the door. He closed his eyes, letting out a breath when his lungs began to burn. Tears were in his eyes as he shook his head, staring at the beer bottle on the counter. He heard a sigh behind him, and he turned back, looking into nearly the same hurt eyes that he'd seen on his daughter reflected back at him from his wife.
"The beer's not any better, you know."
Peyton walked away, and when Lucas heard the bedroom door shut, he turned to the sink. He wished to God that he could just pour the rest of the liquid down the drain.
And that was the thought that was running through his mind as he turned the bottle up, swallowing foam as he reached into the fridge for another.
"Never wanted this, never want to see you hurt."
Breathe, Taylor Swift
Logan got out of his truck and jogged over to the edge of the basketball court. Sawyer was there, breath heaving in and out of her lungs as she grunted, making pained noises as she ran from one end to the other, every now and then picking up a ball and throwing it as hard as she could at the goal. Some made it in, but most just bounced off the backboard, or the post holding up the net. Logan narrowed his eyes as he saw the sweat pouring down her face, soaking her t-shirt. He stepped forward, taking off at a run as Sawyer threw the ball, twisting her ankle and falling to the ground.
"Hey, you okay?"
"Fine."
She went to stand up, letting out a pained yell and collapsing again, this time in Logan's arms.
"Easy. Take it easy."
"Let me go. Let go!"
He backed off, and Sawyer curled her legs up, breathing hard. Logan watched her.
"You need some water."
"I'm fine."
Logan nodded slowly.
"Yeah. This is what fine looks like."
Sawyer closed her eyes, resting her forehead on her knees. When she lifted her head again, tears were rolling down her cheeks. Logan automatically knelt beside her, facing her, and she just shook her head as she reached out a hand for him. He linked his fingers with hers and she squeezed, letting out a sob.
"I'm so mad. I'm so mad at fucking everything, and I just—I can't take this anymore."
"Sawyer—"
She shook her head, sobbing again.
"I'm mad at my dad. I hate him, and I hate myself for it. He's my dad, Logan. He made a mistake, and I know that, and I just want to hug him and tell him how much I love him, but every time I open my mouth, something hateful comes out."
Logan leaned closer, and Sawyer leaned into him as she cried, then shook her head.
"This is just awful, Logan. I'm a horrible person."
"No, honey. No, you're not."
Sawyer nodded.
"Mama—Mama told me about Lydia. How she's—how she's getting better. And I … I can't—"
Sawyer sobbed again, and Logan lifted an arm to wrap around her, but Sawyer pushed him away, shaking her head again.
"I'm so mad at her. At Lydia. Who does that? She's sick and getting better and I'm pissed off about it."
Sawyer shook her head as she pillowed her arms on her knees, resting her face on her forearms as she cried. Logan ran his hand over his mouth, then moved closer, putting his arm around Sawyer, pulling her to him until she had her arms around his waist, crying into his shoulder. He just held her, gently running his hand up and down her arm as she cried, soaking his t-shirt with her tears.
"You know…"
Sawyer didn't lift her head from his shoulder, and Logan continued to gently rub her back.
"I don't think it's awful that you feel this way."
"You're just saying that to pacify me."
Logan smiled at her muffled comment.
"Nah. I'm being serious."
She pulled back, wiping her hands under her eyes.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Logan laughed.
"I mean…"
He leaned up, thumbing away a tear from Sawyer's cheek.
"It's a natural reaction."
"Being pissed off?"
He nodded.
"It doesn't make you a bad person, Saw. It makes you human."
She nodded slowly, then shook her head.
"Logan, she's sick."
"I know."
"And I'm mad at her for it."
"I know."
"She didn't have any control over it. She—she couldn't help it."
"But she could have helped what she did."
Sawyer went quiet, shrinking back just a bit. She lifted her eyes to Logan's.
"Is that what it is?"
Logan shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know. Is it?"
Sawyer looked out over the court, at the river flowing in the distance.
"I'm not mad at her for being sick."
Logan shook his head. Sawyer smiled softly.
"And it's really not even her that I'm so mad at. It's me."
Sawyer looked back to Logan, who gave her a smile.
"You'd do well in Psych."
Sawyer rolled her eyes and Logan laughed. He stood to his feet, holding out a hand. Sawyer smiled, laying her hand in his, standing up. She blinked hard as her vision suddenly blacked out and she stumbled into Logan's arms.
"Whoa, hey. Sawyer? You okay?"
She blinked a few times, clutching Logan's arms.
"Sawyer. Hey, look at me."
After a minute, she did, bringing her eyes to his. He moved a hand to cup her face, leaving his other hand at her waist.
"You okay?"
She let out a shaky breath and nodded.
"Yeah, I—I'm okay."
"What the hell was that?"
She shook her head.
"I don't … I don't know. I just got dizzy. I think I almost passed out."
"Yeah, I think so, too. Christ. You scared me."
Neither of them realized the way Logan had Sawyer pulled close, right up against his chest. She laid her head against his shoulder, so close he could feel her shaky breaths against his neck. He gently ran his hands up and down her back, until she straightened, a blush crossing her cheeks as she took a step back from him. Logan smiled, reaching up to push a stray curl behind her ear.
"You okay?"
She smiled, nodding. Logan nodded back, then took her hand as he started walking to his truck. Sawyer followed him, wrinkling up her nose.
"What are you doing?"
"Food. I'm starving."
"You're always starving."
"Well, I'm a growing boy."
"Oh, bullshit."
Logan laughed, opening the door for her. Sawyer shook her head.
"I'm sure I stink."
"Whatever. Get your ass in the truck."
"My purse is in my car."
"If you think I'm asking you to go eat with me and then making you pay for yours, I'm insulted."
"That makes it a date, though."
"No, it's good manners. And don't even try anything else. You're going, because it would just be sad for me to go by myself. Can you imagine the 'look at that poor boy, eating all alone' stares? You don't want to do that to me, do you, Saw?"
She shook her head.
"You're unbelievable."
Logan flashed her a grin before he shut her door, jogging around to his side.
"And you know it's never simple, never easy. Never a clean break; no one here to save me."
Breathe, Taylor Swift
Quinn leaned against the wall, looking into the living room, where Clay was in his chair, watching ESPN, gently running his fingers through Riley's wet hair. It didn't happen very often, because their fourteen-almost-fifteen-year-old daughter was "not a baby anymore, Mom, jeez." But when it did, they both embraced the times Riley would curl up in Clay's lap the way she used to, or when she'd sit at the bar, watching as Quinn cooked dinner or went through her photographs. Tonight, Clay couldn't help the smile that was on his face while he watched the latest edition of Sports Center, while Riley didn't say a word. Her eyes were closed now, and she wasn't quite asleep, but she would be soon.
If the phone hadn't decided to ring.
Riley narrowed her eyes as she sat up, looking at Clay, who looked back at her with a similar expression. Quinn walked over and picked up the phone, waving a hand at her husband and daughter.
"Hello? … Yes, this is… What? … Wait. I'm sorry. What? … When? … Are you— … Yes. … Okay. … No, thank you for calling. We will."
Quinn hung up the phone, leaning onto the kitchen counter, putting her face in her hands. Clay rounded the corner, walking over and resting his forearms on the counter near his wife.
"Q?"
She let out a laugh as she shook her head.
"I should have known. Things were just going too good today."
Clay reached over, taking one of her hands from her face and holding it in both of his.
"What, baby?"
Quinn sighed, pushing her other hand through her hair.
"I tried to call Jamie earlier, to tell him about Lydia. He didn't answer the phone. But, uh …"
She let out a long breath.
"That was Chase."
"Not Chase the …"
"Yeah. Our lawyer, Chase. Jamie's in jail."