Lucas returned to the seat next to Peyton after taking her insurance paperwork back to the friendly nurse who'd checked them into the ER. He slumped into the chair and his worry was practically radiating off him. She knew instinctively that he was about to ask how she was, so she beat him to the punch.

"I believe they call this transference," she said, bumping his shoulder with her own.

"What?" he laughed.

"Taking all the things you're feeling and channeling them into worry for me?" she explained with a smile.

"What can I say? I have a history of sticking by you when you're bleeding from the leg," he said, making her laugh again. He knew that Haley would have lost her mind if she heard him joking. He noticed the surprise on his face earlier when he only laughed. But Peyton...there was something calming about her.

"I hate hospitals," she said abruptly after a few minutes of silence. "I don't know anyone who really likes them, but I really, really hate hospitals."

"I can't say I blame you," he said somberly.

"You shouldn't have come. You shouldn't be here right now," she said sympathetically.

"I wanted to," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders.

She wondered if it should have been that easy. Them. She wondered why it wasn't tense or awkward or difficult. Maybe enough time had passed. Maybe the circumstances made them push everything else aside.

They were silent again, and just sitting there next to one another for a while, perfectly content in not talking. Peyton was wracking her brain, trying to think of her best memory of Karen that Lucas didn't already know.

"After the shooting, I went to see your mom," she said quietly. "I wasn't going to school and I begged my dad to take me to your place."

"When?" he asked, the shock evident in his voice.

"A couple days after the funeral," she explained. "I was worried about her. And You. I told my dad I wanted to let her know that I understood what she was going through. He couldn't argue with me."

"Peyt..."

"She was just sitting on the couch in her sweats when I got there. Dad stayed in the car and waited for me. I just sat down next to her and neither of us said anything for probably a half hour." She choked up thinking about that day and the emotions she went through at the time. "I thanked her for raising you like she had. I told her that if she and Keith hadn't been so incredible, you wouldn't have been brave and selfless enough to get me out of that school. She told me she was mad at you and I told her I was, too. I said I thought you were a fool for running into that school. But I told her she should be proud of you because you saved my life, and I didn't think anyone else would have been able to help me through that like you did." Lucas just stared at her as she spoke, wondering why she never told him that before. "I just held her hand for a while until she looked at me and said thank you."

"How come you never told me that?" he asked, dumbfounded that they'd gone all this time without her saying a word.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I guess I just wanted to keep that memory between the two of us."

And he knew that his mother probably felt the same way, which was why she had never said anything either. He wondered what he'd done to deserve having all these wonderful women in his life. His mom, Peyton, Haley, Brooke...He knew he was lucky to have known any of them. He was just about to speak again when her name was called.

"Want me to come with you?" he asked. Something in him really wanted her to say yes.

"It's OK. I'm a big girl," she said with a grin.

"Peyton, you're a big girl with a very low threshold for pain," he reminded her as they stood.

"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "But if I crush any bones in your hand, it's entirely your fault."

"Deal," he nodded as they turned to follow the nurse.

If nothing else, she was certainly helping to dull the pain that had been looming over him. Maybe it was transference, as she had pointed out, but he didn't care. Worrying about her felt better than the sadness.

25 minutes later, Peyton was clutching Lucas' hand as her leg was being stitched. It almost hurt him to see her in pain and wincing like she was.

"Great," she said gruffly. "Now I'm going to have another stupid scar!"

"Peyton," Lucas said, trying not to laugh at her childish behaviour. "He's doing a great job. It'll be better than you think."

"What's this one from?" the doctor asked, rubbing over the circular scar with his pinky finger.

"It um...It's from a bullet," she explained softly. Lucas squeezed her hand, but the sadness stayed on both their faces.

"Oh," the man said softly, unsure of what else to say. "Well, you're all set here. I'm just going to prescribe a topical antibiotic and you'll be able to go."

"Thank you," Lucas offered, taking the piece of paper from the doctor. He offered them both a nod as he tossed his latex gloves into the bin before leaving the room. "You did good, Sawyer."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get the hell out of here," she said, tugging his hand towards the door. She wasn't sure why she was still holding on. But so was he. They stayed that way until they got to his car. Neither mentioned it. Neither made any moves to pull away.

They stopped by the pharmacy on the way back to Nathan and Haley's to fill her prescription, then they were walking back through the door of the Scott household.

"Jamie, look who's here?" Brooke said, pointing the boy in the direction of the two blondes as they made their way into the living room.

"Peyton!" the boy shouted, running to hug her as she knelt down with her arms open.

"Whoa, Jamie. What about me?" Lucas teased.

"I see you all the time," Jamie explained, looking at his uncle over Peyton's shoulder as her arms were tight around him. "Where were you?"

"The hospital," Peyton said quietly.

"Oh," Jamie said, dropping his head. He remembered he was supposed to be sad. They were all sad.

"But check it out," she said, moving to sit on the couch next to Brooke. "10 stitches."

"Cool!" Jamie and Nathan exclaimed, both moving closer to inspect the wound.

"Lucas," Haley called gently. "We should probably get started."

He just nodded. Back to reality. The sad and depressing reality of what was going on in his life. He joined Haley in her dining room, away from everyone else. She'd already called the funeral home and picked up a copy of Karen's will. She had brochures for caskets laid on the table. It hit him quickly. He knew he had to make these decisions, but he didn't want to. Who would? He was thankful that he had Haley to help him. When they were tucked away from the crowd, he pulled her into his arms for the first time since they'd found out his mom hadn't made it.

The two best friends just stood there, each quietly crying in the others' arms for a few minutes before Haley pulled away and wiped her eyes.

It took them about an hour to make the arrangements. Haley was, as usual, hyper organized. All Lucas had to do was make the final decisions. He teased her that he'd never been more thankful that she was borderline obsessive compulsive. That had earned him a smack to the back of the head, but it was worth it to see her smile. The funeral was set for two days from then, and Haley had offered to have a gathering of people at her house afterward. They left going through her will for another day after Haley sensed that Lucas was getting a little overwhelmed by everything going on.

"Hales." He got her attention just as she was about to stand from her seat. "Thank you. For everything."

"Lucas, you know I don't mind," she said with a sad smile.

"And try to go easy on Peyton," he said quietly. He didn't want to argue with Haley, but he knew that they had to get through the next week or so without rehashing the past or yelling at each other.

"I'm not going to do anything, Luke. There's too much going on for me to worry about Peyton and all the drama that comes with her," she bit back.

"That's what I'm talking about. Let's not do that," he said vaguely. She understood and nodded after letting out a sigh.

The five of them, plus Jamie, spent the rest of the evening eating way too much take out and continuing their trip down memory lane. Peyton nearly fell asleep more than once, realizing that not only was she jet lagged, but she really hadn't slept at all on the red eye flight she'd caught. She stayed awake long enough to say goodnight to Jamie, but after that she was pretty much dead to the conversation going on around her.

"Peyton, we should go," Brooke offered, noticing the huge yawn the blonde was trying to suppress.

"I'm sorry you guys," she said quietly.

"It's OK. We should all try to get a good night's sleep anyway," Nathan insisted. "You shouldn't drive, though. You're way too tired."

"I'll be fine," Peyton said, shaking her head as she stood from the sofa.

"No way," Haley demanded. "Not on our watch. You can leave your car here and Nathan or I can drive it over in the morning."

Anyone who wasn't Haley was shocked by her sudden outburst of concern. Of course, she was not a malicious person, and she wouldn't ever let someone intentionally put themselves into harm's way, but the amount worry in her tone was a little surprising.

"OK," Peyton managed. She handed the keys to the car to Nathan and hugged him once again before saying goodbye to Haley. They may have been speaking, but they certainly weren't at the point where physical contact was welcome.

Both Brooke and Peyton offered hugs to Lucas before starting down the walkway.

"Peyton," Brooke said, stopping her in her tracks. The blonde turned to face her best friend. "How are you?"

"Could be better," Peyton scoffed, wondering where the absurd question came from.

"No, I mean, I know this is a rough time for you anyway, with the shooting and...everything. Without all this," Brooke clarified. "It's weird that this stuff has all happened at the same time of year, just years apart."

"Yeah," Peyton said sadly. "This week is a tough one. Tomorrow's going to be..."

"I know," Brooke interrupted, slipping her arm around Peyton's waist as the continued towards the car.

Lucas and Haley had heard the whole exchange from the doorway, and he waited until the girls had left before he walked towards his car without saying another word to anyone.

As if they all didn't have enough to worry about already, they'd all just been reminded of yet another thing that was sure to bring on an onslaught of emotions and pain, reopening wounds that hadn't ever really healed.

----

The two women walked into Brooke's house and Peyton promptly pulled out her phone. Julian had sent her a simple text message telling her how his meeting had gone. She began dialing his number but Brooke stopped her before she could hit send.

"Shouldn't you be heading to bed, missy?" she scolded playfully, handing her friend a bottle of cold water from the fridge.

"Just making a call," she said with a smile.

"Ah. Julian," Brooke said, smirking.

Brooke found happiness seeing her friend so smiley despite the circumstances. And Julian had reminded her of a male version of herself. Just sarcastic enough to be charming, and just charming enough to know how to get what he wanted. Not to mention, he could put a smile on Peyton's face like no one had in years. Since they'd gotten together, Brooke had seen her friend do a complete 360. She was no longer the heartbroken and hurting girl she'd been after her and Lucas broke up. She was happy. He made her happy. And Brooke was grateful. But there was something in the back of her head that would repeat every now and again when Peyton would call after a disagreement with her boyfriend, or when he'd be on a movie set for weeks at a time; he's not Lucas.

Peyton knew Brooke could hear her entire conversation, and when Julian asked if she'd told anyone they were married, she froze. What could she say? He'd know she was lying if she said yes, and if she said no, he'd be heartbroken and think she was ashamed or worried what everyone would think. The truth was, it was just bad timing.

So that's what she told him.

She hung up after a short conversation and felt Brooke's gaze on her.

"So you two are good?" she asked.

"We're really good," Peyton said with a smile far too big considering the reason she was in Tree Hill for the reason she was there.

She realized that if there was ever a window of opportunity to tell her best friend her news, that was it. But she didn't. She didn't want to explain it all and face questions about the day and her dress and the ring. And Lucas. She had always known, deep down, that no matter when she got married or how long she'd been with someone new, there would always be questions on whether or not she was over Lucas. And she was.

She and Julian had been together for almost 4 years. He'd picked her up and dusted her off and saw what she really was beneath the hurt and heartache and tragedy. He had saved her, and she owed him a lot for that, but he never asked for anything in return. Instead, she was rewarded with him allowing her to see who he really was, not the smarmy movie producer. He let her see him as a man who had fears and apprehensions and dreams and regrets. He had a favourite song from every year since he was born, and he highlighted his favourite passages in any book he read. He'd read to her from the newspaper while she drank her coffee. He called when he said he would. He played guitar well but sang horribly, and she'd laugh when he closed his eyes and belted out songs for her. He bought her things because he knew she'd enjoy them, not because he needed to impress her (which he accomplished anyway). He kissed her temple each night before they went to bed, and he told her he loved her as often as he could.

He was the man for her, and he'd proven it time and time again. She had no doubts in her mind.

But she still didn't tell her best friend of over 15 years that she had married him.

Instead she repeated that she was tired, let herself into Brooke's guest bedroom, put on her pajamas, and cried again. There were too many emotions running through her and crying seemed to be the only release. Brooke had been right - most of the horrible events from the past years had all taken place around the same time. Unfortunately, that meant that Peyton's heart was already fragile without adding more pain to the mix.

She couldn't shake the feeling that things were going to get a lot worse before they got better.