A/N I know, I know, I'm terrrrible! I just can't seem to juggle writing along with my work load and going out at Uni! I suck. But I haven't given up on this, just know that. I'm sorry for the long wait.

Indifference

Peyton stared at herself in the mirror, mouth slightly open as she applied dark crimson lipstick.

She was done up and she was out for the night.

She felt like she was fifteen again, like she'd snuck into a club she wasn't allowed to be in. She knew all these people, there had been a time when this had been a nightly ritual but now it all seemed so trivial.

Only she'd banned such thoughts from her head.

She rubbed her lips together.

Tonight she was taking back her life because she was done wallowing. She was moving on.

She didn't care about Lucas Scott.

He meant nothing.

She was a fighter. She'd been content before he'd entered her life. She'd been perfectly fine.

She'd not cared and she wanted to go back to that state of unfeeling. She was determined to go back to being that girl.

Because being that girl meant she couldn't get hurt.

Because being that girl would take away the heartache.

Yes, Lucas Scott had meant nothing.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

'Brooke what the fuck is this?'

Lucas flailed a glossy mag in her face the second she passed through his apartment door. He wasn't in the best of moods.

She sighed, retrieving the entertainment magazine and tossing it aside, not bothering to look up at him as she sat down, her eyes instead focusing on the weather report on the tv in the background. She'd already seen what he was referring to. Peyton Wolf hits downtown as the headline read.

'Well?'

'First off, you can stop speaking to me like that' She reprimanded. 'I've got enough on my plate right now and so have you, you're getting yourself all worked up when you need to work on keeping your heart rate healthy' She exhaled heavily. 'She's allowed to go out Lucas'

He gritted his teeth together. Because nothing about the images splayed over the article displayed her just going out for a civilised evening. Her partying had ceased since they'd been together and the paparazzi were having a field day with her sudden return to the scene. 'You're just going to stand by and let her do this to herself? You said you'd look after her'

Brooke's eyes averted to him for the first time and he was quick to see she was thoroughly unamused.

'Stand by? I've been keeping her head above water for the last month Lucas. You're the one that's done this to her' She dared to whisper sharply. She'd been treating him like a prince, not daring to say a word wrong. His health wasn't good after all. 'She's slowly resorting back to everything she use to do because why not? No one fucking cares'

'I care'

'You care?' Brooke feigned understanding, her head bobbing. 'You care? I'm sorry I just find that hard to understand. If you care so much why won't you just stop this nonsense, why won't you let her come here? Why did you end it with her in the first place? You know what she's like. You know her past- you're the one that put me straight on everything she's been through' She grabbed the crumpled magazine. 'Surly you're not that surprised by this'

He was forced to look at the sickening images once more.

Inebriated. Scantily clad images.

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

'I can't stop her from fucking around Lucas'

He blinked at her, her words stunning him into silence. He'd worked hard at convincing himself that it wouldn't be as bad as it looked; A night out on the town, nothing more.

'Luke' Brooke sighed, her anger dissolving as she watched him sink onto the sofa, his head dropping back against the pillows. 'I'm sorry' She reached out, her hand resting on his hunched shoulders.

'She's sleeping with other people already?' His hand fisted into the pillow at his side. 'It's barely been a month'

'I don't know if she is for certain' Brooke amended. 'But you hurt her' She told him softly. 'She's dealing with it the only way she knows how'

'By acting like a fucking slut'

'Don't you get how she works yet?' Brooke tried to ask gently. She sighed at his blank face, perching herself on the arm of the chair as she held his hand. 'Lucas, you were the first person that wanted her for more than her body, well so she thought. When you ended it with her so abruptly you've just confirmed her belief that people just want her for her looks-'

'I love her'

'I know that. But she's not so certain anymore. You made her believe that you wouldn't go anywhere. I've been keeping her busy with work and trying to distract her but I can't babysit her every moment of every day, it was only a matter of time before this happened' She looked him in the eye. 'She's just trying to convince herself that you didn't matter Luke. But it's not going to help, I know its not. Because you did matter and when she comes to terms with that then this will stop'

He closed his eyes.

It was a rarity that he felt on the verge of tears but he was finding it hard to keep himself in check.

He inhaled sharply.

'I've fucked things up'

'Well, it wouldn't take a genius to come to that conclusion' She smiled sympathetically.

'I can't be with her though- it's best I'm not with her, I won't put her through this, I can't-'

'Lucas-'

'My heart Brooke' He objected.

Whilst she understood his point of view, whilst she new he was only trying to protect Peyton, she was also separated enough to see that in actual fact what they both needed was to be with each other, no matter the circumstance.

'You're...' She trailed off as a loud buzzing noise muffled her words. 'What's that noise?' She squinted as she watched him rifle around in his trouser pocket; retrieving the source of the vibrating item against his thigh.

Brooke stared at the little bleeping pager, the red light flashing persistently on the side.

'What is that?'

He didn't answer.

'Lucas?' She took the item from his hand, urging a response.

'A heart' He muttered dazedly.

'The hospital?' She reiterated. 'A heart?'

'A...a heart'

Remorse.

Peyton blinked up at the ceiling.

'Wow. That was...'

His heavy panting was making her feel sick.

She swallowed and closed her eyes.

She wasn't quite sure how she'd got here. She'd been doing so well. She'd been working stupid hours and spending her evenings at Brooke's apartment and she wished she was there right now watching some rubbish tv programme and eating ice cream.

But she wasn't. Regret consumed her and she'd never wished she was inebriated more than now but that sadly wasn't the case. She was stone cold sober. She had to remind herself that she'd wanted this. That she'd planned this when she'd left her home earlier that evening. Brooke had been determined over the last month. Determined to be there for her in a way that caused Peyton to feel a little ashamed of how reliant she'd become on her boss. She'd been independent ever since she could remember. If she didn't rely on anyone other than herself there was no way of getting hurt.

Only she'd broken that rule.

She'd trusted; loved and consequently got hurt.

And now she hated her needy, out of character behaviour. She didn't like being alone with her thoughts and Brooke had been distracting her on a daily basis but her friends attitude was beginning to make her feel weak and feeble and she despised that. She didn't want to be weak. Wouldn't be weak any longer.

'You're so fucking sexy' His words made her shudder and when his lips touched her bare shoulder she shied away in revulsion, turning onto her side.

She'd chosen this guy for a purpose and that purpose had been well and truly served.

Only she'd not accomplished what she'd set out to. This was meant to take her mind off of Lucas. This was meant to rid him from her world altogether.

But it hadn't. Not in the slightest. He was gone but not from her head. Not at all.

She felt guilty and dirty. She felt as though she'd betrayed him.

She'd been trying. She'd been trying for the last thirty-seven days. She'd lent on Brooke. She'd listened to the brunette's advice and she was grateful, so very grateful to have a friend but Brooke had assured her that the dull ache in her heart would fade and she'd feel better but she didn't.

She wanted to get past this. She wanted to move on and be happy in herself but so far she'd accomplished nothing but self doubt. She didn't know how to be herself. Lucas had shown her who she was but she was certain she couldn't be that girl without him and she wanted to be that girl. Not this girl. Not the girl that slept with men she didn't know.

'Leave'

'What?'

'I said leave. Go'

There was silence and then the bed sheets rustled beside her as his weight lifted from the mattress.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, trying to block out the sounds of him redressing.

She kept telling herself that this was fine. That it was just sex.

Before Lucas she'd enjoyed her sex life. It had never been a big deal but he'd taken that away from her as well as her heart.

'Shall I leave my number?'

She cringed into the pillow.

'Just. Get. Out'

Lucas felt drained. In every true sense of the word. Sleep was hard to come by when you were worrying consistently. If he wasn't thinking about his future he was thinking about Peyton. Thinking about her didn't bring him the happiness it once had. He was instead filled with guilt and nerves over her state. He wanted to know where she was, what she was doing and most importantly how she was doing because from what he could deduce things weren't good.

His Mother had been to see her. Of that he was sure. She hadn't needed to tell him. She'd come home smelling of his ex girlfriends perfume and he just knew. He knew by the sombre look on her face, he knew by the way she avoided his eyes and busied herself with Lily.

He had not questioned her though as indeed he'd wanted too at the time. He'd wanted to ask so many questions but he hadn't.

But now he had to stop thinking about Peyton.

It had been just over thirty seven days since he'd made the choice to end their relationship.

His mother had been and left.

He was on his own once more and he'd never felt more alone at this given moment.

'Have you called any of your family Lucas?'

He shifted on the edge of the bed. 'I'd rather not have them here'

'But-'

'I'm not a child Doctor, I'm aware of the possible outcomes of this operation; I don't need someone to hold my hand and my family live a considerable distance away. You understand'

'When you awake, you'll be grateful to have a familiar face. You're going to want some help'

'A friend of mine is here' He disregarded the professional's plea to have his mother contacted. Keeping her in the dark was protecting her, besides she'd barely been gone a few days. She'd only worry and she couldn't be here in time.

He was nervous and despite his seemingly calm exterior, the fear was evident in his eyes.

The Doctor didn't try again. Lucas laid back on the bed, silently staring up at the ceiling as the man went about prodding him with all his necessary examinations before they proceeded any further and Lucas felt like a zoo animal.

He closed his eyes and envisioned Peyton. Her face is what would get him through this and he needed to focus on someone other than himself right now.

The next twenty four hours were going to be life altering. Literally. This would either make or break him.

Life or death.

Heartache

Peyton shut the door behind herself. She wanted to get out of here and quickly. She wanted to erase her night here but with every step her feet slowed to an eventual halt.

A familiarity encompassed her.

She'd spent a lot of time in hotels as a child. Given her father's job, stability wasn't something she'd ever had and each brief stint of time that had been spent in plush pent suites merged together in her mind.

She stood in the corridor, eyes trained on the rich crimson carpet and suddenly she was six years old. Her eyes shut tight and she inhaled and it smelt just as it had then. A mixture of air freshener and exotic flowers.

She remembered this hotel from her youth. She remembered running up and down these corridors, entertaining herself on long summer days. She'd sat in the gap between the uncomfortable antique chairs and the wall and watched people come and go. She'd told herself stories about the strangers that disappeared behind their doors. Businessmen. The well off family with their snobby children. But her favourite was always the young couple infatuated with one another. She'd wanted to be the beautiful women with their expensive clothes and polished nails. They'd looked like princesses being swept off of their feet and she'd always been so certain that they were off to live their happily ever after.

She opened her eyes, a hand pressed against the cream walls to support herself.

She wasn't so naïve anymore. The idealistic visions she'd had as a little girl were no longer. She'd got as she'd always wished. She had beauty and expensive clothes; she was one of those women. But they'd not been in love and living a life full of happily ever afters. Happily ever afters didn't happen in hotel rooms. Happily ever afters didn't exist.

She pushed away from the wall, propelling her feet forward.

She couldn't stay a moment longer. She felt sick. She didn't want to be one of those women with the fancy clothes, she wanted more. She didn't want to be the girl she'd once been. She wanted to be happy and as much as she was trying futilely to kid herself, more than anything she wanted love.

Brooke stood in the waiting room.

There were paintings on the walls of smiling faces. She wanted to rip them down. She supposed their purpose was to brighten peoples mood, to maybe instill some hope and optimism but currently all they were working in doing was pissing her off. It was as though they were taking great amusement from her grief.

She felt sick to the stomach.

She was impatient at the best of times but this was horrendous. Brooke Davis was a wreck. She couldn't keep still.

She'd held his hand as they'd put him under general anesthesia. She'd watched his eyelids droop closed and she feared it would be the last time she saw his eyes. They'd taken him away after that. She'd begrudgingly watched them take him away.

She was helpless; there was not a single thing she could do. His life was in their hands.

She only wished she had Peyton with her. She knew Peyton should be here. But he wouldn't allow it. She'd tried. Tried so very hard to convince him but he'd not listened to a word. She'd been given strict instructions to leave Peyton out of it.

So there she stood. Alone in the hospital waiting room. Time ticking slowly on. And all she could do now was wait.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

Anger.

'Darling'

Peyton sat cross-legged on her piano stool, a cigarette poised in one hand while staring out at the sky scrape.

'Peyton' Mick tried again to get her attention.

He was acting strangely as of late. Something Peyton was becoming increasingly aware of. He'd not tried to lecture her, not once. He'd seemingly decided to give up that role, the reasoning for she wasn't quite sure of. Guilt was her main suspicion, he was still feeling responsible for the Felix situation and he couldn't bear her being mad at him.

'Peyton?'

'Mmm' She exhaled a breath of smoke and propped the remaining cigarette in an ashtray balanced on the piano keys before her. Her eyes tore away from the view to look at him and he suddenly didn't know quite what to say.

'I didn't know you were smoking again'

She shrugged. It wasn't a big deal. She was proud of herself because it was just a cigarette and quite frankly she wanted something else entirely to soothe her restless mind but this would have to make do to help relieve her stress.

Her eyes were still piercing into him, daring him to say something. Daring him to scold her but he didn't.

'Your Mother-'

'I don't really want to talk about Mother right now' She looked away, putting the cigarette back to her lips and inhaling.

He sighed. He wanted to physically stop her from smoking but that would make him a hypocrite and besides, she was an adult now, free to make her own decisions.

'Peyton there'll be other boys' He declared, awkwardly approaching the piano.

Her brow furrowed over her eyes and she stubbed out the cigarette, placing the ashtray atop of the grand piano. Her feet found the pedals and her hands found the keys and began to effortlessly recite well-known scales.

She was trying to ignore him, of that he could tell but even so he stood aside her, one hand on the shiny wood as she continued to play.

'Peyton stop a moment'

She wouldn't.

'I'm sorry about Lucas, I know you really liked him and...' he trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Sweetheart please stop'

The scales had ceased now, fingers transcending into a complex piece, harshly pressing on the keys to drown out his voice.

'Peyton' He moved abruptly, straddling the piano stool and simultaneously stopping her hands from continuing.

She instantly tried to move away, yelping and reeling back. 'Get off Dad'

'Listen to me'

'I don't want to listen' She exclaimed.

'Darling'

'I don't want to listen' Her voice took on a growl that made him jump.

'There'll be-'

'There won't be others. I don't want anyone else' She pushed against his tight hold but his hands stayed put; strong and persistant. 'I hate him'

'Baby-'

'I hate him, I...' She tired in his arms, unwillingly succumbing to his embrace.

'Sh' He pushed her hair back from her face, kissing her forehead.

'I l-love him' She choked out.

'I know baby. It's going to be alright'

Beat. Beat.

Lucas' vision blurred. It was so bright. His eyes flickered as he watched the nurse feed cardiac antibiotics into his arm. It was the last thing he was really aware of. He hated that he was so helpless, he hated that he had to put his life, his body in these other people's hands. But soon, it was too late to even worry because his eyes were fully closed and then he was unconscious.

Beat. Beat.

His body was hooked up to a heart and lung machine and it was quick to take over; his body no longer his own, no longer functioning on it's own. It pumped the blood round his body for him.

Beat. Beat.

A nurse arrived with a box. Not just any box. It held life. Literally. A heart. Someone had died tonight but in their death they were giving Lucas a chance.

Beat. Beat.

Professionals surrounded his bed.

Everything was prepared.

It was time.

Beat. Beat.

Beat. Beat.

'Hey you'

He temporarily thought it was all over. That he was dead. Because she was there. Clear as day. She was in all his dreams but this was different, it felt so real. Only it wasn't heaven. Couldn't be, because she wasn't dead.

'What're you doing Luke?'

He frowned as he looked around. He couldn't determine where they were. Everything was stark white and glowing, including her. She looked like an angel. Golden locks framed her pale face. Everything was exaggerated. Her eyes greener, lips redder and he was afraid to reach out and touch her incase she vanished into thin air.

'You promised me you weren't going anywhere. You promised me'

He swallowed thickly. There was a dull throbbing ache in his chest and he fisted his hands as he spoke, trying to keep his staggered breathing in check.

'I'm not leaving you' His voice sounded distant and almost unintelligible to his own ears and he wasn't sure if she herself could make out his slur.

'I need you. Come back to me Lucas. Come back'

He attempted to stretch his hand out to her but they seemed anchored to the bed.

'Come back to me'

Her voice was silky to his ears and he didn't want it to ever stop. It made everything ok. But then he blinked and as he'd feared, she was gone; magically disappeared before him.

He swallowed.

The surreal white room glared at him, growing brighter until the intensifying light became blinding, his surroundings turning into nothingness.

Visionless, his body tingled from head to toe, an intolerable pain emitting from the centre of his entire being. A sensation much like falling encased his body, pulling him down and imprisoning him in darkness and then, then there was nothing.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.