A/N: I don't own OTH. Wow, so everytime I post, I seem to apologize for my lack of updating. So why make this time any different. It has been too long. I haven't known where exactly I was taking this story, and I need to have a serious sit down with pen and paper to map it out, but I didn't manage to a few story lines out of my head. My current obsession with Peyton Sawyer and Dean Winchester crossovers has temporarily taken over my thoughts. So again I'm sorry for the lack of updates. Thanks a bunch to those of you who are still reading, especially those who review. You seriously give me the kick in the butt I need to finish the story.

The perky flight attendant's voice rang through the speakers of the small airplane "We will be arriving in our destination, Tree Hill North Carolina, in approximately 10 minutes. Please fasten your seat belts as we prepare for our descent. Thank you."

"So are you ready for this?" Brooke looked questioningly at her best friend.

"I'm ready to see my dad, it's been too long." She replied sadly. She hadn't seen her dad since she stepped on the plane to go to LA about six years ago. Sure they had talked, they even still used the web cam when they could, but the holidays never worked out right. She couldn't get off long enough to make the trip across country and he couldn't get off the boat when she finally did get a few days. Maybe they could have both tried a little harder, maybe not. What was important was that she would get to see him now, and maybe that would be the inspiration she needed to start the next chapter in her life, pursuing something more meaningful that she could be proud of.

"It has been too long." Brooke smiled mischievously, only for Peyton to cringe when the light bulb went off.

"Eww. B., you cannot seriously still think my dad is a 'DILF' as you put it?"

"I'm joking. I do miss him though. He was more of a father to me than my own." She looked down at her dress and added "I'm going to be so wrinkled when we finally get off this plane. You know, I still can't believe he wanted to come to Tree Hill with us. It just seems crazy? All of this for a movie idea."

Peyton raised an eyebrow at her friend, amused by her cluelessness. "All of this for a movie idea? Your delusional if you think that is the only reason he got on this plane."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked slightly offended.

"It means I saw the fireworks when you two met, so I know you had to as well. He came here to try to get to know you." she arched her eyebrow knowingly.

"I guess I might have thought as much, but I really wanted to hear someone else say it so I'd know I wasn't being a self absorbed, conceited fashion diva." They both were quiet for the remainder of the descent, happy with the progress they had made together.

About 25 minutes later, Peyton was left walking alone to get her luggage, while Julian and Brooke flirted with each other shamelessly. She loved every bit of it as she watched Brooke on the verge of genuine happiness.

"So Brooke Davis, fashion extraordinaire. Just how did I get so lucky that I get to accompany you around this fine town that you call home?" He said putting his arm out for her to hold, in true gentleman fashion. Perhaps, Brooke had found someone to finally love her, simply for being her.

"Well, you used my best friend and mine's life story shamelessly as a movie idea, and traveled here under the false pretense of actually making this into a movie, and you are here' she motioned to their linked arms "because you happen to be devilishly charming."

"I'm sure that does help." he smiled at her happily.

"So, are you sure you really want to meet Lucas? I don't know if this story is really going to be able to make a movie or not," she stated hesitantly before adding "and I'm not sure if I really want to have to watch it."

"Look, after I talked to Peyton the first day in New York, I went and read the book. It's good, good enough to be a movie." he beamed at the possibility of finally showing his father what he was capable of, but it wasn't something he could do if all parties involved weren't open to the idea. "If at some point you decide that you don't want to see this played out on the screen, then we'll pull it. Simple as that. It's at least worth looking into, right?"

"I don't know. Part of me feels like all of this is so far in the past that it was a different version of me, but then I look in the mirror and she's still there." she surprised herself at how easily her innermost thoughts escaped in this man's presence. But if there was one thing she'd learned, it was that holding back doesn't get you anywhere.

"Who?" he questioned.

"The girl with all of the insecurities. The one whose heart he trampled because she let him have that power over her."

"Brooke."

"No, I mean, it's okay. I just still see her sometimes, and I wonder if that could happen again."

"You're amazing Brooke Davis, and if you ever start thinking otherwise, call me. I won't hesitate to tell you the truth. That he was a fool for the way he treated you girls. You deserve better."

"Okay."

"Okay?" he searched her face for the question she seemed to be answering.

"Let's go see about making a movie, but only if Peyton still agrees. She is the main half."

They had finally reached the luggage rack where Peyton awaited her bags. "So best friend, how do you feel about this movie?"

"I say let Lucas relive it. Let him live to regret his actions." She sighed nonchalantly, staring at the luggage.

"Bitter much, Sawyer?" Julian chimed.

"No... Yes... I don't know. I still hate what he's done to us and our friendship, but I don't love him if that's what you are implying."

"Oh that's right. You love his brother." Peyton flinched as Brooke's face beamed with delight at the knowledge that the other Scott would be there to mend her best friend's heart. Peyton hoped she could make it work with him somehow. She knew that would take a lot on her part.

"Look guys, I think I'm going to stop by and see my mom, when we get back. You guys can go ahead and talk to Lucas if you want. I need to stop by and see someone else, too."

"Your dad?" Brooke questioned.

"No. Well, yeah. Him too, but I was thinking more along the lines of Whitey."

"I think that's a great idea Peyton." Brooke knew that Whitey was a no bullshit kind of man. If anyone would tell Peyton to go after her heart, Whitey would. And he would explain it in simple terms that just might push the blonde in the right direction. She was also glad that she would be gaining the free time to inform a certain dark haired Scott brother of their return the town they all called home. And then there was the small fact, that she would have to usher a handsome movie producer through the town.

"Mom." Nathan said quietly as he watched his mother stir the pasta she was tending to. He had decided it was finally time to come back to the town that nearly destroyed him, to the home that nearly helped it.

"Nathan!" she screamed dropping the wooden spoon on the napkin by the stove. "You're home. Honey, I've missed you."

"I know. I've missed you too, Mom." he countered as she wrapped her arms around her son.

"How is he?" he asked quietly afraid of knowing just where the two stood at this point.

"Not well, " she said returning her attentions to the meal before her. She wasn't really sure how to fix the broken relationship between her husband and son. She wasn't sure that either would really benefit from it.

"Do you think he'll talk to me?"

"Probably not, but you can try. He's in the sitting room, watching old tapes." Not much had changed in Dan Scott's mindset. Dan Scott once went to prison to protect his son, but Dante's death had been ruled out as a homicide, maybe partly because he was the mayor. His confession to his own brother's murder had sent him to prison again, but the plea was declared to have been made because of personal guilt, not that of actually having commited the crime, even though he had. After being released he had made a promise to himself. He wouldn't hurt those that he loved anymore. Deb was the love of his life, no matter how much either had denied it. He eventually won her back, and the love of his son and a grandchild. But it was short-lived, when the same accident that took Jamie Scott's life also took his own in some sense. But prison, twice, reconnecting with his wife, falling out with his son, and losing a grandson, still left him the bitter man who missed his shot at greatness as a basketball player. It was the reality that never seemed to leave him no matter what else should overshadow it.

Nathan decided it was worth chancing, he had after all made the journey back to Tree Hill. He might as well face all of his demons. "Dad" he stated as he walked into the dark room, lit only by the light of the television. The television playing the freshman Nathan Scott, player for the Tree Hill Raven's. The screen reminding Nathan of the days when Peyton Sawyer was his escape, despite how badly he screwed that up then.

"Nathan" he responded back, with no emotion present as Nathan took the chair beside his father's.

"So you're walking again?" he said trying to make small talk as he caught sight of the cane resting against the chair. Nathan knew rehab had been working and that Dan had been walking again for months, getting stronger each day or he wouldn't have even imagined bringing up the infliction.

His father's silence let him know where they stood. Dan wasn't ready to open his heart up to his son again.

"I'm sorry." he added when he knew the response wasn't coming.

"Are you?"

"You know what, Dad. I lost a lot more in that accident than you did. And if I were sitting on my ass feeling sorry for myself, you sure as hell wouldn't still be apologizing to me."

"You'll never understand." he said, still not looking at his son.

Nathan rose, with anger and pain swirling throughout his body. "I understand. You're still a selfish bastard. I don't know why I even tried."

"Nathan, honey. What's wrong?"

"Ask him? I've got to get out of here." he said as he slammed the door exiting the house. Not achieving his intended goal of dealing with the past. Instead, now he found himself dealing with a more painful reality, the one where he son's body rested beneath a concrete stone across town. He let the tears fall, and he prayed that he would soon receive the phone call from Brooke. The phone call that could alleviate all of the pain. The phone call where she would be in town, and whether they were together or not, he somehow wouldn't have to go through this alone in the town where he wasn't greeted with open arms.

Peyton couldn't decide which of the tasks she had laid out for herself that she wanted to accomplish first. She ultimately decided that Brooke and Julian should drop her off in front of the ranch that currently belonged to Coach Whitey Durham. He had been a savior in her life before Lucas Scott ever entered her world. He was a connection to her mother, a connection to Nathan, and a connection to a part of her self that she always needed. He was like the grandfather she needed, the family tie to make her complete. She had learned the hard way that blood relations didn't really matter in the long run, the realization of her adoption aided in that process. So she ascended the stairs to the one story log cabin resting quaintly on the corner of the property, anxious to see him again.

"Well, well, Miss Peyton Sawyer. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, dear?" He said as he reached to hug her.

"Whitey. It's good to see you again." She said as they released. He still looked the same, five years later. She was thankful he'd still remembered her. She wasn't the best at keeping in touch, a postcard here or there and a birthday card. Nothing big.

"You too, Peyton. You too. So what brings you by?" Not that he wasn't thrilled to see a former pupil or a girl who'd he thought of as a granddaughter. He knew she needed guidance in her life, from someone who would be there when she needed them, so he had tried to provide that. Along with memories of the woman she called mom.

"Life, you. How's retirement?"

"Boring as hell, but I'm surviving. I miss my boys though. I still go back and watch them play on Friday nights. Luke's doing a hell of a job with him. Can't think of a better replacement." he chuckled.

"He is a good coach." She agreed, remembering how well, he had taught the youth at the YMCA the week he had stayed with her in LA after senior year of high school.

"From the look on your face, it's safe to assume you two aren't still playing soap opera and dancing around your feelings. You've moved on. That's good." He never was one to beat around the bush, and she was thankful for his honesty.

"Our soap opera's been canceled." she laughed along with him as motioned her to seat in one of the two rocking chairs placed on the front porch, knowing they both spoke more freely when surrounding by the crisp North Carolina air.

"I imagine your's is just beginning though. Am I right?"

"You are too good at reading people."

"Did you find you some hotel trashing, eyeliner wearing pansy rockstar out there in LA?"

"Not quite, I was always more of a basketball star kind of girl. Sometime's I think I'll be wearing the number 23 till I die."

"Don't tell me you're back with Nathan Scott?" he sighed remembering their carcinogenic relationship when he first met the brooding artist and the hotshot ball player.

"No, but it's a long story. I've probably ruined my chances there." she smiled halfheartedly, not wanting to lay her emotions out there completely.

"You know, Peyton, the only things ruined in life are those you don't fight to fix. If you want Nathan, then you've got to fight like hell to make sure you get him." he winked at her, before adding. "Besides I know for a fact that Nathan won't put up too much of a fight. I talked to him last month, and he said he was shacking up with some ex girlfriend. I assumed he meant someone else, but apparently I was wrong. And if it's what you want you might just find a love like mine and Camilla's." She didn't know why she was surprised to hear that Nathan was still in contact with Whitey, but she was. Maybe he hadn't drifted so far from his former self as he tended to believe he had.

"Thanks Whitey. I think that may be just what I needed to hear."

"I had a feeling it was."