A/N: I KNOW, I SUCK! I'm so sorry it's been so long! The weeks just flies away, and I was busy with work all summer, and now I'm busy with university! I promise I haven't stopped writing though!

Aaaaand reviews are always appreciated :)

Peyton stood alone in her hospital room, staring at what was laid out for her on the bed. She could hear the distant sounds and voices from outside, the hospital always in full swing of its routines. Otherwise the room was quiet, and she was only locked with her own thoughts and worry.

She was going home today. Home. She didn't know what she was supposed to think of that. She didn't know what to expect. Everyone were making all sorts of plans for Peyton's homecoming. They'd scheduled her for check-ups with someone they said would help her recover, help her adapt to normal life again. In other words; a psychologist. They were talking about her going back to school eventually. They were talking about ways to help her forget this experience, to help her move on.

Like she could ever forget. They were only kidding themselves.

That was always on her mind, and it would never go away, no matter how hard they tried to help her.

He would never go away.

And she wished they would all stop for a moment. Leave her alone, so she could breathe.

Lucas and Brooke had gone home a few days ago, very reluctantly though. Lucas had gotten the call that Karen was in labor, and he'd had no choice but to leave, although it had been apparent how hard he found it to leave Peyton behind, as if he was scared he'd never see her again. Brooke had wanted to stay with Peyton, but she'd insisted that Brooke should go too, and that she would see them in a few days. So now it was just her and her dad left.

Brooke had went shopping before leaving though, and had bought Peyton some clothes for her travel. That's what Peyton was staring at now, the clothes laid out for her. Jeans and a T-shirt. She hadn't worn anything like that in so long. All she'd gotten to wear were things that suited him, that he liked to dress her up in. Outfits like this was something she never got to wear.

To some people it might seem insignificant. It was just a pair of jeans. Just a simple shirt. But to her it wasn't insignificant. To her it was yet another thing he'd taken away from her. Yet another thing that would never be the same. She could barely even remember what used to be her style anymore. What did she use to wear before she was taken? What sort of clothes used to define her?

She didn't know anymore.

She stared up at the mute television hanging on the wall, the flashes of colors capturing her vision. Her heart clenched. There he was again. Ian Banks' photo filled the screen as several headlined words flew over the screen. "Stalker." "Captivity." "Abuse." "Rape." Her name. Then the picture changed, and he was being led by some police officers out of a car and towards the station. That clip had been on repeat on the news for several days now, and every time, she still froze while watching it.

Then her heart filled with anger. Hatred. Disgust. And then the more shameful part of her followed, fear and submissiveness. As much as she wanted to deny it, he still had that hold over her. And she hated him so much for creating this… bond between them. For disconnecting her so much from herself, and for making her this way.

His bright, blue eyes met the camera for a short moment, and Peyton knew he was looking right at her. Even if he couldn't see her. He was letting her know he was still out there, and his eyes told her everything. They would be together again. He wouldn't give up. She was and would always be his. Even as he looked pale and crazed, studs of hair growing on his face, his eyes looked so confident and convinced. She'd spent a vast amount of time only studying his picture. As much as she knew she was torturing herself with it, she couldn't help it. She could tell by his features that he thought he was going to win this, and that scared her. What if he had some plan on how to escape and get her back? The thought made her cold all over.

The picture changed again, and it turned into something new. Something she hadn't seen before. Newly released photos of the house. She strangled a gasp. The garden with the table, and the bolted windows. The living room. The windowless bedroom. The chain by the bed. Her stomach twisted, and she gripped at the edge of the bed to keep her balance. She was back there. She could smell it. She could feel the tight chain around her ankle, scarring and breaking her skin. She could feel the isolation, the loneliness of being there. And she could hear the horrible creaky sounds the bed made as she would stare at the ceiling, waiting for him to finish…

"Peyton?"

She jumped.

Larry was anxiously staring at her by the doorway as she turned towards him. She looked back up at the TV, to see a completely different image now filling the screen. She must have blacked out again. It seemed like several minutes had gone by. She realized her hand was gripping tightly at the bedpost, and she let go, her body quivering.

"Dad," she choked out.

"You okay, honey?"

Peyton bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah… just give me a minute."

He nodded with a calming smile, and her heart filled with some warmth from the familiar look.

"Why don't you get dressed? I'll wait outside. And then we'll go… home." His eyes glinted with hope, and she nodded with a small smile, before he backed out of the door again.

It was a feeling she got for just a second, but the thought came to her… that maybe… going back to the place she'd always known as home would make her feel like herself again? Maybe she'd find her old self back there… in Tree Hill. And then she could be normal again.

X

She had slept most of the way, and kept Penelope in her lap. It had felt so good to get the little cat into her arms again, and the animal had been meowing ecstatically when it'd heard Peyton's voice. The sight of the cat had made Peyton truly smile for the first time through all this; the only friend she had that didn't judge her or look at her with nothing but sadness and pity in her expression. Peyton appreciated that. Afterwards, she had kept Penelope in her arms the whole way. The pet helped calm her nerves somewhat, if only a little.

Police officers had made sure to guard her and Larry from curious journalists, and no one knew of her arrival at Tree Hill yet. The news of Peyton's abduction and escape was all over the Tree Hill news. It was the biggest story they'd had since the school shooting, bigger even, and funnily enough, Peyton had been a key subject in both stories. And that would only give her a lot more attention than she needed right now, which made it highly necessary to have police protection.

"Peyton, sweetie?" a soothing voice muttered in her ear. "We're here."

Her eyes snapped open. Her head had been resting against the window of the car, and her eyes were now met with strong rays of sunlight, making her narrow her eyes. It was a beautiful day, as always in this town. Fast images were passing her by, as the car was moving forward. All she could see was colours flying through her vision, and she slowly sat up, trying to get a better view. Her heart started beating faster once she saw the sign that read "Welcome to Tree Hill". She swallowed heavily. The last time she'd been on this road, was when she left half a year ago, in the trunk of Derek's car. That was so long ago now. If only she had known what would happen to her before she got back again…

She'd thought she would never get to see this place again though, but still, here she was.

Her heart filled with many conflicting emotions. She felt happy, but also sad. She was hit with a longing for the warmth the thought of this place had given her when she'd been away, but she was now also scared to be back.

She still couldn't quite shake the feeling that this was all a dream that she would soon wake up from.

Reality began to hit her when they passed the Rivercourt. Her heart filled with an aching feeling of nostalgia. Her grip on the cat in her lap tightened, and Penelope woke up with an annoyed meow. Peyton didn't pay attention to her though. They passed Tric and she could remember the first opening night, with the huge crowd waiting outside, and she had been so nervous and excited that night. They passed familiar roads and playgrounds, buildings and places, and she could see her and Brooke riding their bicycles as little girls, she could see them crying in laughter after shoplifting at the mall. They passed Karen's café, and she could see Gavin DeGraw playing at open mic night… then there was the dock, and she could see her and Lucas eating ice cream on a hot summer's day, last summer. They passed a huge field of lawn filled with gravestones, and her eyes searched for the familiar tree by her mom's grave. She found it eventually, and her eyes lingered on the spot. A lump was fast to form in her throat, and her bottom lip trembled.

Mom…

Peyton felt a calloused hand take hold of her own, and she bit her lip, glimpsing into her father's gentle eyes.

"You're home, Peyton," he said with a reassuring smile, and she took a deep breath, nodding.

And suddenly, they were in front of the huge brick house, the car stopping. Her eyes began to water when she saw the white door, the bench outside on the porch, and the green lawn looking just as she remembered. The flowery bushes her mom had always worked on when she was young looked as beautiful as ever. She stepped outside, holding an anxious cat tightly in her arms, and she inhaled the scent of freshly mown grass. She could feel the Tree Hill summer in the air, and it hit her just how much she'd missed this feeling. The air was so light and there was a slight breeze hitting her face; it was completely different from the heavy air in a closed up forest. A small smile came upon Peyton's lips.

Larry walked up next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He was watching her face, trying to figure out what she was thinking.

"I had Nathan, Haley and Brooke come over to take care of the house before we got back. It's been kind of a mess, but it seems like they've done a good job," he uttered, looking at the mowed lawn and fixed-up bushes. He hoped it would look as presentable on the inside as well; cleaning had been the last thing on his mind all these months.

"It looks… it looks just as I remember," Peyton said shakily. There was this horrible ache in her chest, an overwhelming feeling of sadness, and she wished she'd never had to leave this place. She wished she'd never lost it all.

"Are you going to be okay from here, Mr. Sawyer?" one of the police officers asked politely, standing by the car.

"Yes, thank you for taking us, we appreciate it," Larry said thankfully while shaking the man's hand.

"Call us if there is a problem." And with that, he got into the car and they drove off. As the sound of the engine slowly disappeared, an edgy silence filled the air.

"Let's get inside," Larry said, beginning to edge towards the front door, and Peyton slowly followed. Penelope seemed tired of being held now though, and had started struggling to get free from Peyton's grip. "Shhh Penelope, I'll let you go once we're inside. Don't be scared," she muttered, although she was probably just as scared herself. A thumping headache was beginning to build in her head, and she had a dark feeling in her gut, as if something bad was going to happen. She walked up the porch steps, and was instantly taken back to the last time she was stood there.

It was dark outside. Her heart was thrumming in her chest; she had to get inside that door as fast as possible. He was behind her, he was coming closer, and her shaking hands were working to find the keys to unlock the door. Then she felt his strong arms take hold of her, pressing her shoulders together, and she was overwhelmed with panic. She cried out, her mind paralyzed with fear. She felt his heavy breath on the side of her face, his eager hands stroking her shoulders, and then he was gripping her neck forcibly. His lips were at her cheek, and she wanted to scream out.

"Don't you know how much I love you?"

"Oh God…"

Please Lucas, hurry up. Hurry up, help me, please…

But help wouldn't come.

She opened her eyes, her body set in flight mode, before she realized this was all a long time ago now. Derek wasn't standing behind her, he wasn't here. She breathed out. Larry hadn't noticed her little flashback, so he unlocked the door with a nervous smile and pushed it open, before he looked at her. "You first," he said. Her gut was filled with dread and her breath heavy, but she tried to look nonchalant. She forced up a smile and took a few steps leading her into the hall.

The moment she set foot inside, she was hit with flashbacks, good and bad. Her childhood ran through her head as she peered into her home. It smelled the same, it looked the same; it hadn't changed.

But as much as she hated to admit it, she had changed. Being here made her want to get back to that old version of herself, the version who lived here before. Peyton could feel Larry's staring eyes at her, and she bent down, letting go of Penelope to disguise her teary eyes.

The little cat took a few nervous steps forward, sniffing at the unfamiliar scents that were catching her olfaction. She looked scared and curious about this completely new, unusual environment. Peyton watched as the cat slowly moved into the house, investigating the new territory, before she went out of view, hesitantly entering the kitchen.

"So… your cat seems kinda spooked?" Larry said, unsure of how to begin a conversation with his daughter.

"Yeah, she's not used to all this. It's different from what she's been accustomed to."

"Hm. How long have you had her?"

"About… three, almost four months now."

Peyton looked up at him, to see his eyes swimming with questions. She could see the wonder in his eyes, the wonder about everything that had happened. There was also fear in his expression though, fear of what she might tell him if he asked.

She swallowed, looking away. She didn't like the way he was staring at her. "I'm- uh, I'm just going to have some water." She walked away from him, following Penelope into the kitchen. Her mouth was suddenly really dry. It felt so weird being here, it didn't feel at all like she'd imagined.

She entered the kitchen, and stopped for a second, taking it in. This was the place where she would heat up countless dinners by herself, when her dad was out at sea. This was where she and Brooke had spent several nights baking cupcakes together (although it always ended in disaster; none of them were the true cooking wonders).

Peyton exhaled, walking over to the sink.

Larry stood in the doorway, watching as she poured herself some water. "Would you like something to eat?"

She glimpsed at him. "No thanks, I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure? We've been driving all day, you haven't eaten anything."

"I'm fine, I promise. Stop worrying, dad," she assured him, smiling weakly.

Larry sighed, walking into the room. "I'm sorry honey, but I'll never stop worrying about you. I'm your father, that's my job," he said, patting her head.

"Right." She rolled her eyes. "Well you don't have to worry about every single thing; I can take care of myself, you know."

Larry nodded. "I know you can." He sat down by the table with a grin. "So your friends did a good job cleaning this place, I must say. It looked awful when I left."

"Oh really?" Peyton smiled. "I bet it was all Haley, working the others like some psycho-" she halted in her words, her mouth slightly open. Larry's face became a sad frown, and Peyton was really starting to hate that look.

"Sorry- I'm… um, I'm gonna go check out my room," she muttered, an excuse to avoid him for now. She rushed past him before he could stop her.

She entered the hall, walking towards the stairs, when her blood pressure heightened again. Another flash of that horrible night hit her, the night when it all began. She stared at the front door, and could see it all happening in slow motion. There was the spine-piercing sound of glass breaking, as a strong arm came flying through the glass next to the front door. Peyton could hear her own traumatic scream ringing in her ears, and she stumbled in her tracks. The door would open, and he'd come inside, big and scary and strong and fast. And then there'd be no escape.

She shook her head frantically, blinking hard. There was no one there. The glass was in place. She was just imagining things.

Jesus Peyton, get it together…

She took a deep breath, glimpsing at the door one last time, before slowly moving up the stairs. She felt herself get more nervous as she approached the door to her room. This was the place she had missed the most; it had always been her safe place and the room where she spent most of her time. Although that had all changed the last time she set foot in there. It had all been ripped away from her because of him… As her hand gripped the doorknob, she was half expecting to open the door and find her room in the same state as the last time – filled with hundreds and hundreds of pictures of herself plastered on every inch of wall. It had been so horrible the last time she walked in there; the realization about how dangerously obsessed he really was had hit her, and the memory still sent chills down her spine.

Her heartbeat increased speed dramatically as the door slowly opened, and she automatically flicked on the light with a shaking hand, as the room was set in darkness. Waves of light shone through the room, and there was no horrible nightmarish vision welcoming her; it looked just as it was supposed to. Peyton's eyelids flickered a few times, trying to take it all in, every inch of the place.

She took a few steps inside, unsure of herself. The bed was nicely made, with her favorite red bed sheets. The red walls were still filled with some of her drawings hanging up… People always leave. The Anna Sawyer gravestone. Ellie. The Angel of Death. Her heart jumped. She walked over to the drawing Ellie had made her, and ripped it off the wall. She didn't want it there. She could never look at that drawing again without seeing him, without seeing that creepy tattoo. She opened one of the bedside drawers and hid the picture within. She couldn't throw it completely away, Ellie had made it after all.

Peyton turned around again, gazing at her surroundings. This was all hers. It was hard to really let it sink in. These were all her things. She walked over to the huge record collection, her hand gliding over a few albums. She noticed they were all covered in dust, and she blew a simple breath at them, watching as the air filled with tiny corns of dust. She walked over to the closed closet door, opening it carefully, after making sure no evil was hiding on the other side. She couldn't help but feel a little paranoid. Peering into her closet, she saw her clothes hanging there, just as she left them. Band tees, ripped jeans, stylish dresses… Her eyes welled with tears when she noticed her favorite leather jacket, Ellie's jacket, hanging there untouched. These were her clothes.

Taking a few steps back, she stood in the middle of her room, taking second looks at everything, making sure it all was real.

That's when it truly washed over her. He… he wasn't here. She was home. She hadn't allowed herself to fully believe it. She'd been so scared something would happen, that Derek… Ian would somehow come for her again, but that hadn't happened. He was under the control of the police now.

She sat down in her bed. Her bed. There would be no more sharing a bed with anyone else… No more mind games, no more agonizingly long nights, no more uncomfortable outfits and appalling duties, no more kisses and empty words…

She was free.

Free to do as she pleased, free from captivity.

It was hard to really believe it.

Her eyes fell on something on the floor, halfway hidden under her desk. She got up from the bed, walking over to it, curiosity driving her. She looked down on the object; it seemed like it was a picture. She picked it up, and realized at once it was a picture he took of her. The police must have missed it when they cleared out her room. A knot tied in her stomach. In the picture she was at school, having lunch, smiling. He'd been there the whole time, hiding in the crowd, watching her every move.

She stared at the picture, and a tear suddenly fell down upon it; it was only then she realized she was crying. She smothered a sniffle with her hand, and inhaled a determined breath.

Stop crying.

Peyton angrily ripped the picture in pieces, and crumbled the bits within her palm.

It seemed all she had done this last half year was cry and cry, ever since this hell started. She was so tired of it, but it seemed like she couldn't stop. It kept washing over her; it was so unfair. Why had this happened to her? Why did he do this to her? Why couldn't she just get back to normal? All she wanted was to have her life back. All she wanted was to get these last five months back, like they had never happened.

So why couldn't she?

She settled herself back in bed, laying down, staring into the room. She saw now that it was getting dark outside. She listened as cars drove by, and as a dog barked down the neighborhood. She listened to the clock tick. She listened to the sounds of her house… and she had never felt more out of place.

X

It was much later when Peyton heard the stairs creak, as someone were sneaking their way up the stairs. She sat up in a hurry, her heart hammering in her chest. No, no…

She stood up, feeling the panic rise from her gut, and she looked around frantically. The movements were closing in on her door, and she didn't have time to make another movement before it clicked open. She whimpered in dread and stepped back, pressing her back into the wall.

A figure was standing in the doorway, their head hidden in the shadow, but then he stepped forward- and it was only Larry.

Peyton exhaled heavily in relief, her hand coming to rest on her chest.

"I'm sorry, did I scare you?" Larry asked concernedly as he saw the way she was standing pressed against the wall.

"No, I- uh, I just thought… never mind," she muttered, shaking her head.

Penelope came peering out behind Larry's legs, before hurrying over to Peyton, stroking herself against her legs. Peyton lifted Penelope into her arms, sitting back down in the bed.

"I made you some cocoa," Larry said, setting a warm cup down on her bedside drawer.

"Thanks."

He sat down next to her. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine." She kept her eyes on Penelope, stroking her hand over the warm fur.

"Okay… but how are you really?" he tried again. He could tell she wasn't fine, he could tell she was bothered, and he kept feeling so helpless. He just wanted her to talk to him.

She sighed. "I'm fine. Don't worry, dad."

Larry moved closer, stroking over her hair carefully. She cringed slightly at his touch.

"Are you thinking about your mom?"

Peyton was taken aback by his question. She looked up at him, tears evident in her hazel eyes. "What? I… why do you ask?"

"I saw how you looked for her gravestone today. I know it's hard… I really wish she was here too."

Peyton looked away with knitted brows, a tear falling down her pale cheek.

"I'm fine. And if you don't mind, I'd like to sleep now, I'm tired," she said determinedly.

"Peyton-"

"Please just go."

He sighed sadly, standing up. "Ok. I'm sorry." He walked over to the door, before turning around. "Goodnight, Peyton. Love you."

She avoided looking at him, and in the next moment, he'd left.

She laid herself stubbornly down on the bed, her hands gripping onto her pillow. She could feel Penelope curling up against her legs.

"H-he doesn't know anything…" she mumbled indignantly. "None of them does..."

She shut her eyes hard, as she felt the tears burning in the corner of her eye again.

Her father was right though… She wished now, more than ever, to be back with her mom. She wished Anna were here to hold her, comfort her, sing her to sleep, like she did when she was young… She wanted so badly to talk to her. But she couldn't… she was all alone.