Woo-hoo! laughs Thanks for the great reviews. I'm having a lot of fun writing this story. It's because one of my new favorite hobbies.

I've got a nice long update today, complete with an intense flashback. Very exciting. I most likely will not be updating tomorrow, though. Unless I can write a good chapter in the hour between ANTM and Lost (I'm a slow typer), there probably won't be a new one until Thursday.

Thanks again for the reviews and enjoy the new chapter!

Peyton and Lucas had been sitting in the waiting room for nearly an hour. It wasn't very busy- on the contrary, it was quite empty, but Peyton was sure they weren't being taken in quickly because her wrist wasn't an emergency. She and Lucas had talked a little when they had first arrived but had eventually fallen silent. Peyton now found herself gazing around the room at the few other people in there with them.

Across from where she and Lucas sat there was a thin, dark haired boy, looking only a few years younger than them. His leg was wrapped in a thin white cloth and there was a pair of crutches leaning against the wall to his right. He sat slumped in his chair, immersed in some magazine about dirt bike racing. Next to him sat a very loud and obnoxious looking mother, wearing an expensive business suit and shouting into her cell phone.

"I told you, James," she screeched into the phone, "I wanted those papers ready by this morning! I don't have time for this!"

Mentally rolling her eyes, Peyton turned her head to the right. A young girl of about eight or nine was seated in a chair at the corner of the room, her right arm wrapped in a large cast. The girl was very small, her feet a long way from the floor as she sat in the chair. She was wearing a pair of torn jeans and maroon shirt, her curly blonde hair glowing vibrantly against the dark of her clothes. Next to her, the girl's dad was whispering something in her ear, but the girl looked even sadder all the same. Peyton's heart stopped for a moment as she stared. She's me.

Suddenly Peyton felt a warm hand grab her left arm gently. She turned her head to see Lucas pulling up the sleeve of her shirt. She closed her eyes and gave in, holding her arm out farther as though granting him permission to examine it. Lucas let out a low whistle as he inspected her arm.

"Christ, he really did a number on you, didn't he?" Lucas murmured. "That must've been the worst."

Peyton shrugged her shoulders halfheartedly, not sure how to respond. She was saved the task of speaking up when a woman in a white coat opened the door to the waiting room. She glanced down at the clipboard in her hand before calling out, "Peyton Sawyer?"

Peyton glanced at Lucas. He gave her a reassuring nod and a small smile. She stood up, grabbing her leather jacket off the chair, and walked toward the nurse. As she reached the door, Peyton looked back at Lucas. He was still seated in his chair, though he looked like he was trying to stop himself from standing. When he caught her looking at him, he relaxed.

"You'll be fine," he said encouragingly. "I'm right out here."

Peyton nodded tentatively and followed the nurse behind the doors. They closed shut behind her with a loud bang. The nurse led her to the end of the hallway and motioned her inside the room to the right. Peyton stepped inside, dropping her jacket on the chair closest to the door and taking a seat on the edge of the patient bed.

"The doctor will be with you in a moment," the woman said monotonously, and she stepped out of the room rather quickly.

Peyton stared around the empty room, trying her hardest to think about anything but the anxiety she felt. She found this task rather difficult; the stark white walls were completely bare, save for two posters on opposite walls. One was a very large diagram of the human body, labeling every bone, organ, and muscle it pictured; the other, a colorful poster explaining healthy eating habits for growing children.

As she moved her eyes about the room, Peyton accidentally twisted her wrist slightly in the wrong direction. Crying out in pain, she lifted her arm, cupping it gently with her right hand. Lucas's words swirled inside her head as she inspected the bruises. That must've been the worst.

Peyton laughed harshly to herself. What had happened to her arm was quite terrible, but she was pretty sure it hadn't been the worst. Lucas had absolutely no idea. She sighed heavily, trying her hardest not to get caught up in memories of what had happened, but she found herself unsuccessful.

Kyle had lied to her when he had told her he would never hit her again. He had kept his promise for about a week before things had started up again. Beatings from him were rare, but the longer it went on the worse they got. Peyton tried to reason why she had stayed with him for so long.

The truth was Kyle wasn't the typical abusive boyfriend. Peyton had seen the Lifetime movies, had watched the soap operas with Brooke, and how Kyle treated her was nothing in comparison to the men in those stories. In fact, ninety-five percent of the time Kyle was the sweetest guy in the world. He would make her dinner, take her out on romantic dates, break off plans with his friends to be with her. Whenever she came home from a tiring day of work and wanted to watch television, he would gladly give her the recliner and the choice of what to watch. He told her he loved her every day, every night, and every time he saw her in-between.

But on the somewhat rare occasions Kyle got extremely angry, he became a whole different person. It was like someone else, some evil demon would inhabit his body for a period of time. He would start to do something and wouldn't be able to stop. It was like he couldn't contain himself.

Peyton supposed that's why he had stayed with him for so long. She was so hopeful, so sure that he would never act like that again that she had no desire to leave him. Every time he went off at her and she ended up on the floor, she told herself that it was the last time. That he wasn't like that at all and that he loved her too much to want to hurt her again. And every single time, she'd ended up wrong.

The door to the doctor's office creaked open again as the doctor, a haughty looking man in his late 30's, stepped into the room. He was making notes and check marks on a long sheet of paper attached to his clipboard. For a few minutes he ignored her as he paced the room, his pen scratching against the surface of the paper. Peyton sat in complete silence, staring around the room again to avoid eye contact. Finally, the doctor looked up at her.

"Peyton Sawyer?" he asked in a bored tone, not even bothering to feign excitement. Peyton nodded at him and he continued quickly. "I'm Dr. Costello. How are you doing this morning?" Without waiting for an answer, he went on, "It says here you have an injury to the wrist, probably a severe fracture. Hold out your arm, please."

Peyton complied immediately, pulling the sleeve on her left arm further up and holding it out for the doctor. He took her arm gently and began to inspect it, turning it slightly in his hands to see the bruising. Turning her wrist slightly, he asked, "Can you feel this?"

Peyton gasped out in pain. "Jesus!" she yelled, pulling her arm back toward her body, her eyes filling with tears again.

Dr. Costello gave her a fleeting look, his eyebrows raised. "I'm guessing that's a 'yes'," he murmured, picking up his clipboard once again and scribbling away. "And can you tell me how you sustained this injury, Ms. Sawyer?"

Peyton's stomach flipped and her mind instantly blanked. She sucked in her cheeks, trying to remember the story she'd planned. Stammering slightly, she muttered, "I just- you know, fell." She mentally kicked herself for the weak response. "I was playing football with some friends and I wiped out and landed on it."

The doctor gave a small disbelieving snort but wrote her response on the sheet of paper anyway. After another long moment he looked up, holding the clipboard at his side. "Well, it's definitely broken. I can tell right away. We're going to need some X-Rays, though. Hospital policy. And we'll need to get you fitted into a cast and prescribe something for the pain." He began walking toward the door, then stopped and turned when he reached it. "I'll be back in a moment. You stay there for right now."

The moment the door slammed shut, Peyton slumped back on the bed, resting her head on the small pillow. That wasn't so bad, she thought. It would've been better if I didn't have to go in the first place, of course. She squeezed her eyes shut, her mind boosting into overdrive as she remembered how she'd really sustained the injury. She was sure that the first injury to it was a simple sprain. Kyle had grabbed it and twisted it harshly after she'd lost track of time out to lunch with some friends from work. He had been planning a romantic meal for the two of them and was livid when he discovered that she had missed it because she'd been gossiping with friends over deli sandwiches. It was less than a week later that he went off at her again, the event in which she was sure he had broken the bone. Images of that night filled her mind. Peyton squeezed her eyes tighter and attempted to shake the thoughts from her head, but failed. In an instant she found herself consumed in the memory of the worst night of her life.

Peyton pranced around the small kitchen of her apartment, clad in a pair of torn jeans and a small white tank. She reached into the topmost cabinet and pulled down a large bottle of olive oil. On the edge of the counter sat a glass dish filled with warm potatoes, sauce, and seasoning. She walked back over to the dish and began measuring teaspoons of oil.

"That smells amazing," Kyle whispered from behind her. He wrapped her arms lovingly around her waist, breathing in the appetizing scent of the unfinished dinner. "You are a great cook."

Peyton smile as she poured in the oil, reaching for the salt and pepper. "What else am I?" she grinned mischievously.

Kyle kissed her on the cheek, causing her to erupt into a fit of giggles, nearly spilling the whole of the small container of salt in. "You are the cutest girl in the world," he smiled. "You're an amazing artist, you have the best taste in music of anyone I know, you're sweet, and you're funny, you look great all the time…" He heaved in a deep breath. "Not to mention, you're dating me," he finished jokingly.

Peyton turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a long kiss. After a moment she pulled away. "I need you to do me a favor," she said, poking him playfully in the chest with her forefinger. Kyle sprung into an obedient bow, causing Peyton to giggle shrilly. "In our room, next to my purse, there's a grocery bag. Inside there's a little bag with bay leaves. Can you grab it?"

Kyle took her hand and kissed it. "Anything, m'lady," he responded in a heavy accent, and he walked quickly from the room.

Peyton smiled to herself, turning back to the dinner, and continued adding spices. Nearly three minutes had passed before she realized Kyle hadn't returned. Still sprinkling in garlic, she called, "Did you find it?"

Heavy footsteps behind her caused Peyton to jump and turn. Kyle was standing in the doorway. His left hand was empty, his right carrying not a bag of bay leaves, like she had asked, but what looked like a ticket. She could see instantly that he was furious: his body seemed tense and his eyes were blazing. He took a slow step toward her, causing Peyton to take a hesitant step back. Lifting the ticket higher in the air, Kyle growled in a dangerous voice, "What the hell is this?"

Peyton attempted a sly smile. "That?" she laughed, trying to ignore her pounding heart. "It's nothing. Just some stupid plane ticket my dad sent me so I could visit him if I wanted."

Kyle glanced down at the writing on the ticket and looked back up at her. "Nice try. Your dad is living in Rhode Island now, isn't he? But this ticket is two-way to North Carolina." He began taking more furious steps toward her. "So are you gonna tell me the truth this time? What the hell is this?"

Peyton gulped. Heart still pounding against her ribcage, she replied calmly, "I just thought maybe I'd visit home. It's been over five months since I last saw all my old friends. I miss them." She took another step backwards, but found herself colliding with the wall. "I was gonna go down there next weekend, just for two days. That's all. It's no big deal."

Kyle stopped a few feet away from her. Tilting his head slightly, he snapped, "And you weren't going to tell me?"

Peyton felt her own anger firing up. She bit her tongue, willing herself not to say anything, but found herself arguing back. "I'm sorry, the last I checked this was still a free country," she said, her voice dripping with angry sarcasm. "Last I checked, I don't have to clear anything with you if I don't want to."

Peyton gasped at her own words. She couldn't believe she'd actually fought back. Kyle tilted his head back upright, his eyes burning even more. She knew she'd done it. Closing her eyes, Peyton prepared herself for the attack. Not even three seconds later she felt his fist on the side of her face. Even though she expected the hit, she still stumbled and fell to the floor. Opening her eyes again, she saw Kyle standing above her. Pure hate registered on his face. He seemed the complete opposite of what he'd been only minutes ago.

Peyton let out a scream as Kyle's foot collided harshly with her stomach. He drew it back for a moment, and then kicked her in the ribs a second time. Peyton felt the wind escaping her lungs as pain shot through her middle. He kicked her heavily in the ribcage two, three, four more times. Tears were already spilling from her eyes and she felt a small trace of blood coming up her throat. Moments later she felt him step on her wrist and put all his weight on it. The cracking of the bone was barely heard over her screams. The pain was unbearable now. She willed herself to shut her eyes as he sent another hard kick, this time at her head, and tried to imagine she was somewhere –anywhere- else.

Peyton figured she must have blacked out at some point, because when she finally opened her eyes again she found the room entirely empty, the time on the clock nearly thirty minutes past when she'd last looked at it. She was curled into the fetal position, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, protecting her stomach. Her head was spinning and pounding while blood streamed from her nose. Her vision was hazy and she the sound of the television seemed miles away.

Peyton stayed in that position all night. A few hours after she'd opened her eyes, she heard Kyle shut the television off, walk to their bedroom, and slam the door. She stayed where she was, wrapping her arms tighter around herself, wincing at the pain in her middle. She was positive Kyle had broken at least one of her ribs, probably more. Her wrist was completely numb, turning a darker shade a blue by the minute. The tears poured out nonstop from her eyes. Her breath was ragged and uneven.

You've got to get out of here! Her mind screamed. Save yourself! Peyton merely hugged herself more tightly, screwing up her face against the pain. She forced a blank white space into her brain and stayed there, free from thought, free from pain… She didn't fall asleep, but anyone watching would've thought she had. She didn't move a muscle, didn't make a sound- she just remained where she was, the tears drying on her cheeks.

As sunlight poured in through the windows, she heard Kyle get out of bed. Five minutes later he stepped into the kitchen. Peyton kept her eyes closed tightly. She heard Kyle take a breakfast bar from the cabinet to the right of her. He walked out of the room quickly, but Peyton was sure she heard him stop in the doorway to the kitchen and knew he was looking at her. Minutes later she listened as he pulled his shoes on, zipped up his jacket, and walked out the door.

The moment it slammed shut Peyton's eyes shot open. She sighed heavily and attempted to move from her position on the floor, but doubled over in pain as her middle section stretched. Rolling onto her back, Peyton gazed up at the cream colored ceiling. She drew in a deep breath and bit the insides of her cheeks. The same words that she had been pondering all night spun around inside her head, and this time Peyton found herself speaking them aloud.

"I've got to get out of here."

"Ms. Sawyer?"

Peyton jumped and sat up. An older looking woman with long red hair stood in the doorway, her hand in a knocking position near the door. Peyton straightened herself out, pulling the sleeve of her shirt back over her wrist. She nodded at the woman, who stepped into the room and pulled the door shut.

"Hi, Peyton. My name is Dr. Willow, but you can call me Mary." She gave Peyton a small smile, her eyes twinkling behind her square frames. She held out her hand and Peyton shook it unenthusiastically. Mary nodded slightly and continued. "I'm from the Psychiatric Department. I'm here to ask you a few questions."

Peyton's heart stopped.

Mary settled herself in the chair across from Peyton, where her leather jacket was. "Now, Peyton," Mary began, "I see you've got a lot of injuries. Do you want to tell me how all of those happened?"

Peyton crossed her arms defensively, almost instinctively. "No, I don't want to talk about it," she spat. "Get the hell out of here."

Mary blinked coolly, pursing her lips. Pulling her glasses off, she looked up at Peyton sadly. "Peyton, I really want to help you. I can tell you're in a bad situation."

Peyton jumped off the bed, shaking all over her body. Mary stood up also, but it had little effect: Peyton still towered over her by nearly a foot. Clenching her teeth angrily and holding back tears, Peyton cried, "Get out! I don't walk to talk! Leave!"

Before Mary could respond, the door to the room burst open and Lucas stumbled inside. He was breathing heavily and shot a concerned look at Peyton. "Are you okay?" he asked her. Peyton nodded quickly. "You," Lucas said, turning to Mary. "She doesn't want to talk to anyone, okay? She doesn't need some therapist analyzing her. So just get out."

"Lucas, don't," Peyton argued back weakly, looking at him with pleading eyes. "Both of you, just get out."

"No." Lucas moved to Peyton's side and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. He turned to the Psychiatric doctor and sighed. "Look," he began in a calm voice, "she's going through a lot right now. She really doesn't want to be forced into talking to someone. Don't you think it would be best if you just left?"

Mary opened her mouth to retort just as the door opened for a third time. Dr. Costello stood in the doorway, his clipboard up and his pen poised as usual. He glanced around at the three people in the room in mild shock. He gave Mary a significant glace. She nodded hurriedly and stepped out of the room. The doctor turned back to Peyton and Lucas. Lucas kept his warm hand on Peyton's shoulder and gave her a light squeeze.

"We're ready to take you for the X-Ray, Ms. Sawyer," Dr. Costello said. "If you'll just follow me. And your boyfriend can't come with, I'm afraid."

Peyton and Lucas both opened their mouths immediately to argue the word 'boyfriend'. The doctor blushed at their mutterings apologetically, clearly embarrassed for having assumed they were together. He stepped out of the room, holding the door open for the other two. They all stood in the quiet hallway, the doctor turning away to give Peyton and Lucas some privacy.

"Here, you go back to the waiting room," Peyton said tiredly. "I'll be fine. See you in a bit."

Lucas nodded and pulled her into a hug. Giving her a swift kiss on the forehead, he pulled away and smiled. "You'll be okay," he said softly. "Just meet me in there when you're done and we'll get going."

--

Nearly an hour and a half later, Peyton and Lucas stepped out of the hospital into the bright sunlight. The day had almost completely gone by and the two of them had spent the majority of theirs cooped up in the hospital, wallowing in worry and regret. Peyton shielded her eyes against the bright sun with her right hand, her left arm heavily wrapped in a large cast. As they neared the car, Peyton spoke.

"You shouldn't have done that."

Lucas raised his eyebrows questioningly and looked at her. "Shouldn't have done what? Saved you from the nosy therapist who wouldn't leave you alone?" He smiled. "I heard your doctor ask the nurse to get someone from Psychiatric up there. Said he had a patient who looked like she'd been mugged." He dug his hands into his pockets and pulled out the car keys. "I knew he must've been talking about you, so I went and waited outside the door, just in case things got out of hand."

Peyton ran her hand through her messy hair, biting her lip. Her entire body felt tense. "Yeah," she started in a strained voice. "But now they probably think you're the one who beat me up." She turned to face him as he shoved the key into the passenger side door of his car. "I told you I didn't want that."

Lucas held the door open and motioned Peyton to sit down. She ducked in and leaned back against the seat, glancing at him with worried eyes. Lucas bent down so that he was at eye level with her. "You don't get it, do you?" he asked. "I don't mind what people think. I'm willing to get into any kind of trouble if it means I'm helping you." He brushed his hand lightly against her cheek and gave her a fleeting smile.

Peyton felt her eyes fill with tears, but for the first time they weren't from pain, weren't from sadness. A different feeling was erupting in the pit of her stomach. She felt…happy. There was a light in her that flowed through her entire body. Letting out a large yawn, she changed the subject. "I'm exhausted. I just want to go to sleep."

Lucas smiled at her. "Tell you what," he said, standing up and putting his hand on her door. "When we get back to my place you can take a nice nap, and I'll go pick you up a few things. You know, a toothbrush, some shampoo and conditioner, all the good stuff. How does that sound?"

Peyton gave him a warm smile and nodded in response, too tired to open her mouth and speak. Lucas grinned back and shut her door. He started walking toward his side of the car, then paused and leaned his head in her open window.

"Peyton, I care about you more than anything. You know that, right?"

Peyton reached up and grabbed Lucas's hand. Their eyes locked and for a moment the world went completely silent. She gave him a small squeeze and attempted to smile.

"I know."