Water Street, given its name due to its picturesque and idyllic location right next to the Cape Fear River, was lined on both sides. It appeared as if every citizen in the township of Tree Hill had come out for the celebration parade. Children waved brightly colored balloons as vendors cheerily sold cotton candy and fresh squeezed lemonade. It was a bright and sunny summer day as the Tree Hill High School band played on. The main attraction was the beautifully decorated float that carried the town's most famous resident. Wearing a khaki skirt and tank top with a pretty matching blouse, she rode atop a classic cherry red 1965 Ford Mustang convertible. Her lips curved into the smile that was so absent from her green eyes that harbored a certain aloofness. The crowd screamed her name and threw rose petals as her right hand mechanically waved every few minutes.

Nearby, just a block away in front of the Hilton Hotel, a podium had been set up. It was the place where the mayor would introduce her and she would then be expected to give a speech. An elaborate reception would await inside the hotel's luxurious Grand Ballroom for everyone to enjoy. It was a celebration Dan Scott had pushed for ever since the dramatic rescue of Peyton Sawyer. And on a warm Sunday afternoon weeks later, he would finally get his wish, a hero's welcome for the most unlikely of heroines.

A few feet away, an uneasy Lucas stood nearby, keeping a careful and watchful eye on the day's events. It was a bad idea, the last thing Peyton needed but his pleas and outcries had fallen on deaf ears. No one knew the truth, the depths of Peyton's pain, the dark and disturbing reality that haunted her. Only Lucas was aware and his soul had been in torment ever since. More than anything he wanted to give her the help she so desperately needed but that was easier said than done. When he had realized just how troubled she was, he had confronted her in his mother's office and she had gone through the motions of indifference then denial then outright anger. Her ultimatum had been simple…drop it or get lost. But he could do neither. He had gone back to her house but the relationship hadn't been the same. He hadn't breathed a word about the incidents to another living being, torn between fear mixed with uncertainty and loyalty to his girlfriend and her privacy. Still he knew he had to act and act fast before it was too late.

"Why the long face, Cowboy?"

He looked up to see the half smile of Brooke Davis.

"Hey. Um, what's up?"

"Nothing much," she shrugged. "Just thought I'd come and check out Papa Dan's celebration. I'll admit the guy really knows how to throw a party."

"Yeah," Lucas muttered. "Some party."

"You okay?" she asked, noticing just how bothered he actually was.

He looked over at Peyton then again right at Brooke. There was no more denying it.

"No. No, Brooke. I am not okay. Peyton is not okay. In fact, none of this is okay."

"What's going on?"

Before he could answer her, he saw his brother and a very pregnant Haley walking towards them. Trailing closely behind was Larry Sawyer.

"Look who we found," Haley grinned, rubbing her swollen belly.

"Larry," Lucas seemed surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"The job finished up a few days early and face it, I just couldn't stay away a minute longer. How's our girl?"

Lucas hesitated for a moment, staring at Larry, Brooke, Nathan and Haley.

"You alright, man?" Nathan frowned.

Lucas exhaled, shifting his weight nervously.

"No. Look, guys we need to talk. There is something I need to tell you…something I've been keeping from you all. I guess in a way, I was trying to protect Peyton but this isn't helping her."

"Did something happen while I was away?" Larry narrowed his eyebrows.

"Peyton is in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

Lucas shook his head.

"It's not good, not good at all. She's really messed up from what happened with Derek. Peyton keeps telling us that everything is okay with her. We all believed that. I really wanted to believe that but it's just not the case, it's anything but."

"What happened?"

"Peyton isn't sleeping at night. I think she's afraid to go, I think she has these terrible nightmares. She won't talk about it but whatever has her so afraid, it has her freaked out enough to carry a knife."

"A knife?" Brooke made a face. "What the hell is she gonna do with a knife?"

"Besides almost take my head off?" Lucas asked rhetorically.

A silence fell among the small crowd as their eyes widened, trying to take in and process what Lucas had just said.

"What are you talking about, Luke?" Haley questioned. "What do you mean Peyton tried to take your head off with a knife?"

He sighed.

"She was sleeping. I got out of bed for some water and when I came back…I don't know. It happened so fast. I thought she was still sleeping, maybe she was having a bad dream. Whatever the hell it was, she reached under her bed and pulled out a knife. The look in her eyes…I can't explain it. It was weird, like it wasn't even Peyton. Anyway, if I hadn't grabbed that blade, let's just say I wouldn't be here now to tell the story."

"Wait a minute," Larry began. "Are you sure? I know everything Peyton went through with the school shooting and with Derek but I also know my little girl. Peyt is not a violent person. I just can't believe she would do something like that."

"Larry, it was hard for me to believe it too and I probably wouldn't have had I not seen it with my own eyes."

"Peyton wouldn't do something like that."

"Maybe because it's not Peyton," Brooke spoke up.

"What do you mean?" Haley asked.

"Lucas is right," she continued, glancing over at her friend who in the midst of the adoring crowd, seemed to be in a fog. "Just look at her. That's not out P. Sawyer and how could she be? Yeah, she's strong but she's not Superwoman. Peyton has some serious issues. The girl is really messed up and who could blame her. I didn't know about the knife but I did know she was afraid to go to sleep. I also know she needs help, real help."

"It's more than that," Lucas added. "She, um…Peyt has been hurting herself."

"Hurting herself?" Larry repeated with disbelief.

"A while ago I noticed she cut her hand. I thought it was some random accident washing dishes and breaking a glass or something. But it's more than that. A whole hell of a lot more. Peyt cuts herself on purpose. She does it in places that are hard to see but I saw the wounds with my own eyes and it was bad."

Haley closed her eyes leaning against her husband for support.

"This is so horrible. God, I feel so responsible. I mean, what were we thinking? Were we actually naïve enough to believe she could get through all this on her own?"

"We weren't naïve," Brooke answered softly. "We were just hopeful."

"What do we do now?" Nathan sighed.

"We get her help," Lucas said emphatically. "We owe Peyt that. Look, I know it won't be easy and I know she's gonna be pretty pissed at all of us but believe me, this is for the best."

Larry took a deep breath. His heart was breaking into a million pieces all over again. It killed him to know what his child was dealing with in secret. He wished he could take away all her pain. He loved Peyton more than anything. All he had ever wanted to do was help her. All he had ever seemed to do was fail her.

"Okay," he started to march off.

"Larry, what are you doing?" Lucas grabbed his arm.

"This stops now. It never should have gotten this far. My daughter is in real trouble."

"I know. I feel the same way you do but we can't do it like this. Just wait until all this is over. We'll talk to her tonight at home after the event."

A reluctant Larry finally agreed just as they watched an exuberant Dan take center stage.

"Good afternoon, my fellow citizens. Oh please, enough applause. You're too kind," Dan grinned soaking up every ounce of fanfare. "I welcome you downtown in the heart of Tree Hill for this very special event. As you all know, a tragic and unfortunate circumstance happened to one of our very own at the beginning of this summer. Peyton Sawyer was kidnapped from her home. Thankfully, a few weeks later, she was rescued and returned to us safely. During the time of Miss Sawyer's disappearance, our tight knit community pulled together, working feverishly to bring our girl home. And now here she is. Peyton Sawyer is a heroine, a survivor. We are blessed and beyond thrilled to have her back. This parade and the reception that follows is in her honor. So without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, the star of today's show…Peyton Sawyer."

The crowd erupted into thunderous applause and the band played as a nervous young woman took her place at the podium with hesitation. She stood, looking at the sea of people gathered just to get a glimpse at her. She felt a chill creep across her body. Suddenly her stomach felt very unsettled, her knees were a little wobbly and her palms were sticky with sweat. She didn't know what to do or say. Getting the crowd pumped at Tric all those nights had come so naturally, then again that felt like a lifetime ago. She stared down at the prepared speech she had tired to write out on some note cards but it suddenly began to feel useless and stupid.

"Um, hi, everybody. I…I guess I just want to say thanks for coming out. All this for me…I mean, it's really cool and I'm grateful but somehow it doesn't make a lot of sense. I really don't know what to say right now except to thank all of you for what you did back when you tried to find me. Mayor Scott says I'm your hero. I, I don't think that's entirely true. I don't really feel like a hero or anything. I…I'm just a girl. An incredibly unlucky girl who really doesn't deserve any of this. I, uh…I'm sorry. I, I, I don't think I can do this. I…"

Her eyes darted around as her heart began to race. Peyton felt like she was about to have a panic attack. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to go. But in a few seconds, there he was, just like always. Lucas Scott was there to protect her, right by her side.

"It's okay, Peyt."

"Lucas…" she whimpered.

He covered the microphone and put a loving arm around her, shielding her from the crowd. He ignored the murmurs and the look on Dan's face as he guided her to the exit that led to the alley where his car was parked. In the background, in an effort to stall and save face, a Tree Hill High music teacher directed the band to play. Thousands of people stood stunned even as the trumpets and clarinets blared. The incident that had just happened before them was further evidence of a drastic mental and emotional decline, a desperate young woman crying out for help. But for a few fleeting seconds, it didn't matter. He held her in his arms as she cried. All he wanted to do was love her and protect her. Nothing else mattered.