A/N: Happy Birthday, Eve. You are awesome!
Lucas wasn't sure exactly what to say or do after that…
Had Luca killed Peyt…no, he couldn't even allow himself to think it.
He looked at Peyton, who was standing on the veranda, her arms wrapped around herself…she was so beautiful…
Peyton could feel his eyes on her, and she couldn't help suppress a chill from winding up her spine like a snake. She couldn't say it…she shouldn't even think it…Her hand went to her abdomen. For a moment, it all felt so real.
She turned around and found herself staring into Lucas's eyes.
Words weren't spoken.
They simply looked at one another, as if they were seeing into each other's souls.
Lucas slowly moved his hand, his fingers sliding slowly over hers…
And then, darkness…
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It was cold, very cold. She was keenly aware that she was underwater. Peyton tried to breathe, water poured into her nose, filling her lungs…burning. Burning….She opened her eyes suddenly—suddenly really aware of where she was. She sat up.
Peyton gasped. Choking, coughing, she ran her hand over her face and down her head and hair. She was in the bathtub. The water still running, cascading out of the porcelain claw footed tub. She sat, stunned for a moment. Trying desperately to catch a breath—which came in ragged. She slowly shut off the water, as if she was in a dream. She looked down, her clothes clinging to her skin. And on her lower stomach…blood. She gasped, her hands pulling her shirt apart to see…
But there was nothing. And the blood disappeared, diluted into the water. Chills went down her spine.
Suddenly, her heart was in her throat.
Lucas.
Where was Lucas? She stood suddenly, stumbling out of the bathroom, clearing her throat and calling to him all in one breath. Frantic.
"Lucas!"
She ran from room to room, bumping into furniture, nearly in tears, her soul screaming, aching…
And then, her eyes fell on the elevator doors. She broke into a staggering run, reached its doors, pressing the button over and over and over.
It opened smoothly, calmly.
Her terrified scream escaped her lips. And Lucas, lay motionless, face down. Blood saturated into his hair, like a blooming flower on the back of his head.
Peyton reached for him, pulling him into her lap, her hand on the back of his head.
"Oh my God, Lucas…!"
She clutched him to her. Oh my God, what was she going to do…? She was alone and Lucas…
Just then, a moan, not hers, filled the elevator.
Peyton cupped Lucas's face in her hands, his blood staining her hands, his face.
"Lucas…can you hear me?"
Lucas's eyes fluttered open.
"Yeah…I…" He squinted before his eyes widened.
"You're bleeding." His voice was strong. He sat up suddenly.
"Be careful…"
He ignored her, pulling her shirt open…his hand on her stomach. Nothing.
"Lucas we need to go to the hospital, you hit your head…or…I—I don't know."
"What?"
His hands looked at Peyton's hands, and his own went to the back of his head. He felt the blood. But…there was nothing…no cut, no pain.
He shook his head, feeling more…just to be sure.
"No, I—there's nothing, Peyton."
Peyton moved, checking for herself.
"But the blood…"
She looked down at her hands. It was gone. All of it gone.
She looked back at Lucas. She saw his Adam's apple bob—an unspoken fear.
"Why…why are you wet?" His finger curled around a tendril of her hair.
"I woke up in the tub…"
"I think it was wrong to come here, Peyton. We don't know what we're messing with."
"We didn't have any other choice…"
Lucas pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead.
"Would you think any less of me if I said I was scared out of my mind…?" She whispered.
Lucas shook his head. "No. Because I am too."
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Just then, on the other side of the globe, Nathan's eyes snapped open and he sat in bed.
He blinked slowly, looking at his hands.
He flexed them, as if for the first time…
His name was Nathaniel.
And he knew what he had to do.