Hi there! So sorry for the ridiculously long wait for this one. I have plenty of excuses, none of them you'll probably want to hear though. My life is just kind of crazy busy right now. If you're reading Snapshots the next chapter is coming, I'm just moving a couple of bits around, it will be up soon though.

But here we go, ch5!

...

Peyton's imagined this day a thousand days over in her mind. She's rehearsed the words carefully and considerately. Mentally she's prepared herself to ensure that when Elliot learns the truth, it's delivered with the softest blow possible.

And yet.

Now that it's come to it, now that the box of secrets is in front of her baby boy and his eyes are creasing back at her with misunderstanding, she can't force the words from her dry throat.

She's known, since the day that she signed the adoption papers, that she wants Elliot to hear the truth from her and Lucas, no one else. After opening the door to Ellie all those years ago, oblivious and alone, it's the last thing she wants for her son.

Her son. The word licks around her mind; so natural and yet so ironically not natural. She looks back at him now, as he stands before her, towering over her already. She looks for the millionth time for a trace of her in his face but of course there's none. She has no idea how she's going to tell him the truth, not when she barely believes it herself. But as she looks into his blue eyes, eyes darker than Lucas' have ever been, all she can see is Lindsey staring back at her, defiantly, staking her claim.

"Ma," Elliot pulls Peyton from her thoughts, calling out to her with the name only he ever calls her by. She can't remember how it started; why he chose it over Mom or Mommy when he was little but she's always kind of loved it.

"Okay." She says softly and then lets the words fall from her lips. Before she can change them or craft them, or even, somehow - although she can't think how - back out of doing this all together. She says it straight, because although it's harder to do and it could well shoot Elliot right through the heart, saying it any other way might over complicate the news.

"Elliot, I'm not your birth Mom."

Elliot stares back at her. He just stares and stares. There's no outrage or contesting, not like when she was delivered the same news at his age. She wonders whether that's hurting her too or whether she's immune to more pain by this point, having just delivered the fatal words to her baby boy.

Lucas steps forward, his arm around Peyton's waist. Strong and secure but almost too faint to feel at the same time.

"Elliot," Lucas speaks in a gruffer tone than usual.

"No." Elliot says hollowly and lifts his hands to his head. "No."

"Wait, what? What the hell?" Sawyer cries out in outrage. Peyton blinks in surprise, having almost forgotten Sawyer's there too.

Lucas cuts her a glance, "Sawy,"

Sawyer's jaw drops, "You tell us that and you don't expect us to have questions? How can that even be true? How?"

Peyton hears the quiver in her daughter's voice but her eyes are still fixed on Elliot. His eyes are wet with pain and she sees a flash of something she recognises in them, something she witnessed some seventeen or so years ago in a church across town. She can see the realisation crossing his expression, in the exact same way it had Lindsey's when she'd stood at the alter about to marry Lucas.

She reaches out and cups her little boy's face in her hand, catching his tears as they roll from his cheeks. His dark lips pout and his forehead creases to a frown, "But Ma,"

"I know." She bites down on her lower lip to stem her own tears, "I am so, so sorry, Baby Boy."

"I don't wanna do this." He swipes his hand under his nose and sniffs loudly. He then holds up his hands and steps back, towards the door and away from Peyton's touch. "I can't hear this."

He backs away more, to the edge of the room until he's at the door, "I don't wanna know."

"Elliot?" Sawyer calls after him, "Elliot!"

She then turns to scowl at both of her parents, "How could you do this?"

Then, with all the gracelessness she possesses, Sawyer crashes out of the room in what Peyton just knows is a flood of tears.

"They'll be okay." Lucas says from behind his wife.

Peyton shakes her head and reaches for her cardigan on the back of the door, "Just decide which one of them you're going after."

…

Lydia helps herself to a breakfast bowl and some cereal from her Aunt Brooke and Uncle Julian's kitchen, moving about the place as though she may well be the fifth member of the household. It's kind of like that, here and at her Aunt Peyton's and Aunt Quinn's too. They all grew up together and every house feels like home.

She settles herself down at the counter beside Jude who's flicking through a comic book and eating a bagel messily. She nudges him with her elbow and he glances up as though just realising she's there.

"Why are you eating here?" He asks, scrunching his nose.

"Because she can." Brooke answers for Lydia, strolling into the kitchen with a large notepad under her arm. She throws a big smile out to her goddaughter and pours herself a coffee.

Jude eyes the notepad and groans, "I thought you and Dad weren't working weekends anymore."

Brooke tuts, "This isn't work. It's The Games."

Her eyes sparkle as the two kids grin back at her. The Games is a competition that began from nothing one lazy summer back when the kids were little. Since then it's become an annual event organised across the holidays pitting the four families of friends against one another. Everyone plays -Teams Naley, Brulian, Leyton and Clinn, as Brooke christened them - in games, sports and challenges sometimes as a team and others individually, collecting points in pursuit of the trophy Nathan had made a decade or so ago.

"Thanksgiving." Jude realises aloud. They always play in the holidays; Jamie's back from college and everyone has a little more time.

Lydia spins her spoon around in her bowl, "Who's winning?"

Brooke smirks, "Ask Julian, he's the one with the spreadsheet."

"And the pie chart." Jude adds. "He's crazy proud of the pie chart."

"If only that was a challenge in The Games. We might not be trailing so bad then." Brooke laughs a little under her breath, "Pie charts."

"Did you say The Games?" Davis asks as he wanders into the room, his hair an unruly mess of chocolate coloured tangles as though he's only just rolled out of bed. His eyebrows lift at the sight of Lydia at the counter, "Hey, Diddy Liddy."

Lydia rolls her eyes back at him, "Davis."

"Mom's organising the next Games." Jude supplies for his brother.

"Cool, what are we playing?" Davis asks, taking a swig of juice straight from the carton in the fridge.

A smile washes over Brooke's lips, "Blindfolded Jenga-,"

She pauses at the sound of her cell ringing from her purse.

"Hold that thought," She says before taking the call. "Peyton, Hi,"

As Brooke strolls out of the room to chat to their Aunt Peyton, the kids descend into chatter of their own. Lydia taunts the boys over how her family have won The Games for the last two years running and they maturely flick cereal pieces into her hair.

"Julian!" Brooke's voice cuts through the kitchen causing the three teenagers to jump.

Lydia frowns to her Aunt's frantic voice, "What's going on?"

Davis smirks easily, "Who knows? She screams like that all the time. Aunt P probably told her she's wearing sneakers with a dress or something and Mom lost her mind for no good reason."

"It's something else." Lydia says with a shake of her head, "This morning a woman showed up at ours saying she was Mom's friend but I'd never seen her before. Dad saw her and went ballistic."

"Gotta say," Jude rolls his shoulders, "I with Davis on this one. Mom's always screaming the house down."

The three kids turn around when Julian steps into the kitchen, his hair mussy and his eyes bleary.

"You look like a total zombie." Davis remarks.

"Thanks, Kiddo." Julian says, arching his brow. "Okay, Mom's gone out so I'm taking you guys to practise now. Morning, Lydia."

Jude shakes his head, "Where's Mom gone? It's her week."

Julian rolls his shoulders as he disappears into his coffee cup, "Said something about an emergency and Peyton. I didn't catch it all."

"What kind of emergency?" Lydia asks, her eyes wide.

"Not idea, maybe shoes?" Julian guesses.

Davis gives Lydia a 'told you so' look and she rolls her eyes.

…

Peyton pulls off the road towards TRIC, recognising a sloppily parked vintage black camaro in the lot. With a sigh she cuts the engine, hoping that Sawyer hasn't broken into the bar stocks. She once caught Sawyer and her friend Lacey sharing a bottle of Jose Cuevro on a sleepover, courtesy of her liquor collection. She's glad that they at least chose to stay at home rather than end up who knows where, but the incident has always stuck in the back of her mind. Although she knows it was innocent enough and she's sure that Sawyer learnt her lesson when she was throwing up all the next day, but Peyton can't help but worry.

She sends a quick text to Lucas and Brooke telling them she's got Sawyer and then rushes up the fire escape steps, hoping she won't find Sawyer seeking comfort in the fragile embrace of the bar.

When she pushes open the door, she finds the bar quiet and still. The lights are all out and the fridges look to be fully stocked. The only other place she guesses Sawyer could be is her adjoining office.

Peyton crosses the room and pulls the shutter door open, it's rattle causing the office's occupant to jump. Peyton's shoulders sigh at the sight of her little girl stood against the coloured glass windowsill, shaking with tears.

"Can I come in?" Peyton asks, still lingering in the doorway. Sawyer tore off for a reason and she knows how her daughter usually feels about someone interrupting her sulking.

Sawyer shrugs her shoulders, "Whatever."

"Sawyer, honey, I am so sorry that we had to break this to you today,"

The younger blonde brushes her hands across her eyes furiously and frowns back at her Mom, "So why did you?"

"It's complicated." Peyton winces to which Sawyer scoffs. "But we will tell you, I promise. I will tell you everything but I want to find your brother first."

Sawyer pouts and for a moment her stare is as steely as her father's can be, "He's not really my brother though, is he?"

Peyton hugs her arms tightly around her waist and tries to ignore the flood of warm, devastated tears, "Sawyer, Elliot is your brother. He always has been and he always will be. You hear me? And he is going to need his little sister more now than you can ever imagine. He's going to be mad as hell at your Dad and me for a while, I reckon, don't let him lose you too."

"I'm not going to let that happen." Sawyer says fiercely and Peyton almost smiles, almost. She's always loved how well Elliot and Sawyer get on. Since the day they first met as toddlers, they've had a certain something Peyton can't quite find the words to define.

"You don't know how happy that makes me to hear you say that." Peyton says, biting down on her lower lip before breaking out into an unstoppable tidal wave of tears.

Sawyer wells up at the sight of her Mom disappearing behind her hands and sobbing loudly. Without a second thought she steps over to her Mom and being almost the exact same height, pulls her into a perfect hug.

"Everything's gonna change now, right?" Sawyer asks in a wobbly voice.

"The world always changes Sawyer, but it's not always a bad thing." Peyton tells her, combing her fingers soothingly through her daughter's blonde curls. "My world's been turned on it's head so many times that I don't even know which way I'm facing anymore but those things that span me round brought me some of the best things in my life. Like your brother, for instance."

Sawyer shakes her head defiantly, "This isn't the same. This is breaking us up, not putting us together!"

Peyton stills her daughter's shaking head with her hand, "Sawyer Scott, do you really think for a second that your Dad and I are going to let this family break up?"

When her daughter doesn't answer, Peyton arches her brow, "Hey, did you hear me, Kiddo? Never gonna happen."

"You promise?" Sawyer asks, shedding all of her teenage years right before her Mom's eyes.

"I promise." Peyton commits, knowing she'll do everything in her power to make sure her family doesn't fall apart.

…

Brooke holds her hand over her eyes and squints towards the lonely figure sat beneath the bridge. She nearly didn't stop by here, thinking that Elliot didn't know of this place; the place where she and Peyton so frequently found themselves as kids. Something pulled her here though. Back to the bridge where she found her sullen best friend so many times, brooding over the bad hands life dealt her. It breaks her heart to see history repeating itself all over again with her wonderful Godson.

She makes her way over, loud enough so that he knows she's there. When she's within ear shot she calls out to him, "Elliot,"

He turns his head slowly, both surprised and not surprised at all to see his Aunt Brooke slipping into a seated position a few places down. She's practically family…the words laughs back at him in his head. Family. He guesses Brooke's as much family as his Mom is. His stomach turns at the notion. Every second moment he forgets the whole thing and then it floods back like a wave, drowning him all over again. And then he can't breathe, he can't remember how to breathe, he can't think of how to draw a breath.

"Elliot, Honey," Brooke meets his gaze and he's glad to see she's not crying.

He wonders why it's her that's here, over his Mom and Dad. He keeps saying Mom in his head, not knowing what else to call her. She's his Mom, except that she's not. But when he thinks back over all the years, all the years they lied to him, he can't think of her in any other way but his Mom. He remembers her teaching him to swim, taking him to his first day of school, coming to every one of his basketball games. He has no idea how she can't be his Mom. He can't understand how it can be true. Or maybe he doesn't want to, he doesn't know.

He wishes he hadn't run off so quickly. He might not have understood what they were saying properly. Maybe they thought they couldn't have children, he knows now that Sawyer was a miracle, maybe they had to use a surrogate to have him. He doesn't understand how that would mean he's not his Mom's not his Mom though. Unless that's not what she said. Maybe she meant she is his Mom, she just didn't give birth to him. He didn't really give her any chance to explain. His head's such a mess that he can't unravel just one thread of thoughts at the moment.

It can't be true, not really. His family are close, like super close and they're all so alike. All of them, everyone's always saying as much. And he's like his Mom. He is. More like his Dad, sure, but he's like his Mom too. He has to be.

Flicking his gaze back up at Brooke, he takes a deep breath, "What did they mean exactly, when they said Mom's not my birth Mom?"

"Just that." Brooke rasps back to him, "She didn't give birth to you. But in every other sense, every sense that matters she's your Mom."

"But when you say she didn't give birth to me, she's still my Mom, right? Biologically and that."

As soon as Brooke starts crying he knows. He knows it's not true.

"I should get you home, everyone's worried about you." Brooke says suddenly.

Elliot shakes his head back at her furiously, "I don't understand."

"I know." She assures, reaching out for his hand which he lays inside hers. She gives him a squeeze of comfort and smiles sadly back at him.

He frowns deeply, "What about Dad? I mean, is he…my real Dad?"

He kind of already knows. Everyone's always telling him how much he takes after his Dad.

"They'll explain everything to you." Brooke promises.

"I'm not like her at all, am I?" Elliot questions. "I just thought 'cause I'm a boy and that, Sawy's like Mom and I'm like Dad. I never even suspected,"

"And that's all they ever wanted." Brooke says, giving him a tug by the hand, "Come on, sweetheart."

…

Lucas stands at the stove, concentrating on the French toast, occasionally reminding himself to loosen his death grip on the spatula in his hand. The wait for his returning family seems endless. Peyton text him almost an hour ago saying she'd found Sawyer at TRIC and Brooke had sent him a message not long after to say she had Elliot, where they were though he didn't know. Expecting for them all to be back any minute he'd started breakfast. Whether anyone would be hungry though was another matter entirely.

There's coffee already waiting in the pot and some milk on the side for Elliot who still drinks a glass every morning as he did as a kid. Lucas sighs and shakes his head at his own panic, wondering why his acting like a host to exchange students rather than facing up to the facts of the day. Truthfully he's only cooking this breakfast that no one wants to give him something to do, something to focus on. Otherwise he knows for sure that he'd be racing around to Nathan and Haley's to deliver some choice words to Lindsey. The urge was strong to leave, to go and tell Lindsey to come back from wherever she's appeared from, but his family's far more important at the moment.

He, like Peyton, has awaited and feared this day for years. He's never understood Lindsey, not even in the slightest. Not when they were dating and certainly not now. For that reason he's never really been sure whether she'd return to Tree Hill or not. Peyton's always been strangely adamant that Lindsey would be back but secretly Lucas thought that was born more from fear than knowledge. For him though it's never been a certainty. The very fact that Lindsey could give Elliot up in the first place has always made him wonder where she lost her moral compass.

Now though there's no questioning whether she'll return. She's here. She's really finally here and she just might have the power to destroy everything.

The bleeping of the smoke alarm cuts through Lucas' wandering thoughts, shrieking from the hall at the hint of burning bread crumbs. With a slow sigh, Lucas grabs for a dishcloth and waves it through the air. He's used to the cries of the alarm thanks to Peyton's less attentive cooking skills.

When the noise finally dies and the sounds of the kitchen return to his senses, Lucas realises that finally someone has returned home. He quickly turns off the stove and rushes down the hall.

At the front door he finds Sawyer's kicking off her sneakers into the ever growing pile of shoes that drives Lucas mad. "Hey, Sawy, there you are."

Sawyer glances up at her Dad with watery eyes before launching for him and wrapping her arms around his middle. She's not much of a hugger, not any more at least, so the show of affection tells Lucas everything he needs to know. He hugs her back, even tighter than she's holding onto him, silently vowing there and then not to forget her in all of this…chaos that's about to explode.

As he drops a kiss onto her lively blonde curls, Peyton steps inside the front door looking about how he feels. She manages a soft smile at the sight of Lucas and Sawyer embracing.

"You got a kiss for me too?" She asks, her voice wavering just a little, evidence that tears are nearby.

Lucas opens one of his arms to her and she falls gratefully into his strong hold. He presses a long kiss to her lips and gently brushes his nose through her hair until he finds her ear to whisper into, "It's going to be okay."

"Where's Elliot?" Sawyer asks suddenly from between them, causing the fold to break apart.

"With Aunt Brooke." Peyton supplies, "She found him."

Sawyer frowns at that news, "I thought you or Dad-,"

Peyton cuts her off with a smile, "There's no one I'd trust more right now with this than your Aunt Brooke, trust me. She has a gift with angsty teens, I gave her a lot of practise."

Swallowing down the news, a shock of realisation falls over Sawyer, "Everyone else knows already, don't they? They've all known, all this time,"

"They know." Lucas confirms, "Because they were there, not because we chose to tell them over you, okay?"

"Ye-ah." Sawyer says in a drawn out way that echoes Lucas, "It's just weird, that's all."

Lucas bows his head to his daughter as Peyton fusses at the window, looking for any sign of Brooke and Elliot returning to the house. "How are you doing, Kiddo? And don't try and lie to me, you know I can tell."

Sawyer shrugs in her usual way, "I guess I don't know yet."

"When you do, I want to know." Lucas tells her, "You're my little girl, okay? And I don't want you to think that you can't come and tell me how you're doing just because your brother's struggling too. I used to have you on one knee and El on the other when you guys were little, I can still handle the both of you. You're never too old."

"Okay, Daddy." Sawyer says with just the slightest hint of a smile.

"They're back!" Peyton calls out to the pair of them as she pulls open the front door.

Elliot's stood on the other side, his face set in an expression of grim determination. He keeps his gaze on the floor as he steps inside, "Okay, lay it on me."

Behind him Brooke shrugs a little and delivers a sympathetic look to her best friend. At one time she was set to adopt a little girl. She rarely thinks about it now; it hurts to think of the years she and Julian missed out on with her. But she can't help from thinking now that she might well be in the same position that Peyton is currently in, had they taken that baby girl home.

"Call me if you need anything." Brooke says, before bowing out again, knowing that the upcoming conversation doesn't include her.

Peyton calls out to her as she goes, "Thank you, Brooke."

Nodding, Brooke winks and then disappears towards her car, leaving a blanketing silence in her wake. The quiet covers everything in the house, and everyone. The four occupants eye each other cautiously until seemingly Sawyer can take no more.

"Come on, waiting isn't gonna make this better." She says finally.

Elliot licks his lips and somehow, musters a grin. He's heard his sister say those words so many times before, usually when there's a pile of presents in front of her and she's being told to hold back a minute. He shakes his head back at her, somehow still holding a smirk across his lips, "Sawy, this ain't Christmas."

They all laugh. Nervously at first and then a little uncontrollably, to the point that Peyton's sure that they're all completely mad.

"This isn't funny." She manages to stutter after a moment of side splitting laughter.

Elliot shrugs, "It's a little funny, Ma."

The word slips from his lips, as natural as breathing. As quickly as the laughter found them, it leaves them again.

"Sawyer's right." Lucas cuts in, "Waiting is not going to make this better. Are you ready for this, Elliot?"

Elliot takes a deep breath, "No, not really."

Peyton leans over and presses a kiss into his hair, "Trust me, it'll get better."

The realisation washes over Elliot as though it's only just occurred to him that the exact same thing happened to his Mom when she was his age. He follows everyone into the kitchen where the faint smell of burning is lingering in the air and takes a seat purposely beside his Mom.

"Okay," Peyton lays her hands out flat on the table, palms down and takes another of her countless deep breaths. "Cut in whenever, tell me to stop if you want to, but here it is. I first met you when you were a year old. Your Dad brought you home one day out of the blue, before then we'd had no idea about you. Your birth Mom, her name is Lindsey. She was really sick, okay? Depressed. It's called post natal depression and it happens to a lot of people. It just happened that your Mom got it really badly. She'd gone through a lot that year, splitting up from Dad and then finding out she was pregnant with no one to bring up the baby with. She tried, Honey, she brought you up for more than a year on her own and you were a happy, healthy little boy but she wanted what was best for you. That's all she ever wanted for you, okay? And I really hope that we've given you that. More than anything I hope that we've given you that."

Elliot keeps his jaw locked, as though holding back tears, "You have. Mom, you have. And I've decided, I don't want to hear any more about, about her."

"Elliot," Lucas darkly.

"No. That's it. I know now. That's what this was all about, right?" Elliot says, his voice shaking a little, "And I never want to talk about it again."

"Honey," Peyton begins, but is cut off again by Elliot.

"I mean it. I don't want anyone to ever mention this again - whether I'm in the room or not." Elliot threatens. "I'm done."

...

The swinging emotions of teenagers, huh? I think I can just about remember what it's like to be a teenager, nearly. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. I absolutely love hearing what you all think, hopefully it's still heading in the right direction. Lexie :)