Peyton inched further into the corner. Damp hair rested against her face as the oversized tee shirt and workout shorts seemed to engulf her small frame. She had just finished a bath, if one could even call it that. The shower was a small and narrow open way in the already undersized bathroom. The showerhead was rusted and disgusting, with equally sickening patches of colorful mold all around. The water pressure was low and often turned cold in a matter of minutes but that wasn't the worst part, far from it. The worst was the fact that Derek insisted on watching her. He said it was for her own good, so she wouldn't try to escape or hurt herself like before. For Peyton it was just one more demeaning, humiliating evil of her capture. She had tried to hurry up and ignore the fact that his blue eyes, so wide with interest and lust, had remained fixated upon her. Afterwards, she quickly dried and changed into whatever he had provided for her. Silently she reclaimed her place in the corner.

"Feel better?" he asked.

As usual she ignored him.

"Peyton…"

"Leave me alone", came a whisper when he didn't get the hint.

Derek looked over at her and just shook his head.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

Peyton hugged her knees to her chest.

"Why do you think?"

"I know you'll come around eventually."

"No, I won't."

"Yes. Yes, you will. Remember all that stuff with Ellie? Remember how you treated her at first? You hated her, or at least you pretended to. But you got over it. I know, Peyton, I know it can be that way for us."

"It's different. Don't talk about her."

He took a seat close to her.

"You used to talk about her all the time to me. Remember those days? We talked about everything. We talked about music and art. We talked about Ellie and your dad. You told me how betrayed you felt by Larry for never being there for you and for not telling you that you were adopted. You said you got so angry at him sometimes. And you said you hated Ellie at first. You hated her for not wanting you and giving you away, you hated her for lying and being a druggie and then just when you got to know her, just when you got to love her, she left you. A part of you hated her for that, even."

Peyton fought back tears.

"People always leave…"

"That's what made me fall in love with you."

"What?" she looked up.

"People always leave. I remember watching your web cam when you first talked about it. I remember that picture you drew. It was like you somehow got inside my head and you knew exactly what I was thinking and feeling. Peyton, that was the moment I knew we were meant to be. You never got over the loneliness from childhood. It's like we were one in the same."

"How can you say that? You grew up near Charlotte with your parents and your brother and sister. You had a lot of friends and girlfriends, you were happy…"

He shook his head and laughed bitterly.

"That's what you think. That's what everybody thinks because that's what I told them but it was all a lie."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I came to Tree Hill, I told you I was raised in a middle class neighborhood with two awesome parents, Carl and Donna and a brother and a sister. I told you I had a happy childhood, I was good in school, I had lots of friends and a big old, loving extended family. Guess what, Peyton? It was a lie. All of it was a lie."

He shuffled in his seat, red faced, hands shaking. As always, it was hard to know just what he would do next.

"Why, why'd you lie to me?" she asked softly.

"Because I was ashamed. Because I had come to Tree Hill to start fresh. I, I had too many things to hide."

"Like what?"

"I don't know who my parents are, Peyton. Rumor has it my old lady was a trick who got knocked up by her pimp."

"You…you were adopted?"

Derek sneered.

"Not like you. No, I didn't have some pretty, well to do, blonde couple come to the hospital, pick me out like I was a Cabbage Patch Kid and save the day. No, I got passed around from crappy orphanage to even worse foster homes. Most of the time I was ignored and that was a good thing, trust me. Because sometimes it was a whole lot worse. I'd get beat, beat with anything those motherfuckers could get their hands on…leather belts, wet washcloths, extension cord, butcher knife, you name it. When I was really bad, some of them would lock me away in closets or cages. I didn't eat for days and they'd put cigarettes out all over me…"

His voice trailed off, sometimes angry, sometimes sad, sometimes scared as if he was reliving it all as he spoke.

"Oh my God…"

"You get used to it. You know, you deal with it. I'd just, I don't know, I guess I just blocked it all out like it wasn't there, like it didn't happen. But uh, I couldn't", his muscles tensed as he struggled to continue. "I could not deal with it when they touched me."

"Derek…"

"The beatings, you just kind of become numb to the pain. You close your eyes and you're not there anymore. But I couldn't do that when they touched me. I tried. I'd try to make them stop and they'd just beat me and do it anyway. And I'd try to go to another place mentally but…but it wouldn't happen."

Peyton's voice began to quiver.

"What, do you mean touched? What…"

He looked at her and smirked, even though tears rolled down his cheeks.

"You know what I mean, Peyton. They would touch me where adults aren't supposed to touch little children…and they'd get off on it."

"Derek…"

"When I was about 13 I got fed up with the whole system so I started running away a lot. I was on the streets for a while."

"Were, were you scared?"

He shook his head.

"Not me. Besides, it was a lot better than some of the places I had been before. I was used to fending for myself and there were other kids on the street, too. You sort of have to stick together, take care of each other. There was this one girl, Becky. She, uh, she was really special and beautiful, too. Curly, blonde hair, big, pretty eyes. She became my best friend out there. I would have done anything for her, anything in the world. I loved Becky so much."

"What happened to her?"

"She left. She left me for someone else."

Peyton swallowed hard. It was starting to come together, to make some kind of sense for the first time. Derek, as much as she loathed him and despised what he had done to her, was simply a reactor, a product of his own fucked up upbringing. His only solace, only escape had been in a girl…a curly haired blonde who had eventually chosen someone over him. It was a classic case of projection.

"That must have made you mad. It must have hurt you."

"It did", he stated quietly.

"I, I'm sorry it happened, Derek."

"Don't you feel sorry for me."

"It's not pity but everything that was done to you, it…it was wrong."

"Tell me about it."

"All that stuff that happened…it wasn't your fault. You couldn't help it. You didn't deserve it. You were just a little kid."

"Yeah…"

"And Becky…well, sometimes things happen. We fall for people who don't love us back. It hurts and it sucks but there's nothing to do but let it hurt and let it suck for a time, then move on. Derek…"

"What?"

Trembling, she tried to choose her words carefully.

"I'm not her."

His eyes darkened as his head quickly turned.

"What did you just say?"

"Becky. I mean, the way you describe her…well, she sounds like she could kind of look like me or at least the way I used to look when you first started checking out my web cam. I know she hurt you and I know you must have loved her very much and I'm sure you miss her but Derek, I, I'm not her. We aren't the same person. You can't kidnap me and hold me here and punish me to get back at her for not loving you. And I can't take her place."

Derek's face finally relaxed as he began to laugh.

"Are you serious right now?"

"Derek…"

"Don't play that psychology shit on me, Peyton. I'm not stupid and I'm not crazy either."

"I didn't say that. I…"

"Shut up! Just shut up! I know what you're trying to do and it's not gonna work. Just forget all that shit I just told you, okay? None of it matters. Don't worry about Becky or anyone else."

For the first time since the kidnapping, he had opened up to her. There was insight and a possible reason why. He was calm and for a minute, sane. If she could just break through, somehow use his imagined love and tortured obsession for her, maybe she could talk some sense into him. Maybe he would realize what he was doing was wrong and free her.

"I'm sorry I didn't love you back."

He stood up and began to pace. Peyton closed her eyes. She had triggered exactly the response she was hoping to avoid.

"You mean like the way you love Lucas?"

"Please don't", she begged.

"What? You must really think I'm an idiot now. Like all of a sudden you just stopped loving your precious Lucas."

"It, it's not about him."

"Damn right! Glad you finally realize that, Peyton. It's not about him, it's just about you and me. Lucas is so far out of the picture, it isn't even funny. Know why? I saw him the other night."

Peyton felt her heart drop.

"You did?"

"Sure did. I saw him at the café when I brought back the dinner you, of course refused to eat."

"What did he say? What did he do? What…"

"You mean did he ask about you?"

"Yes."

"Come on. You're old news, babe. Tree Hill forgot about you a long time ago. Besides, Lucas has moved on."

"What?"

"Don't act surprised, Peyton. True love always prevails in the end, right? Well, I saw your boy all cozy and hot and heavy in a booth snuggled up to Brooke Davis. Looks like they forgot you ever existed."

Peyton looked away and began to sob. She cried because she was being held in captivity. She cried because she felt sorry for Derek but at the same time hated him. She cried because they had all forgot about her. She cried because she had lost Lucas' love and Brooke's friendship. She cried because they were obviously back together. She cried because the world was still turning without her.