Chapter II: Into the Light

Time seemed to stand still as Peyton stood face to face with the man she has loved for a number of years now. Lucas Scott's blue eyes, full of shock and tears, searched her face for any indication that she didn't mean what she'd just told him. Peyton wished she could tell him otherwise, but sadly…

"Lucas?" her voice was as soft as a whisper and Lucas barely heard her over the beating of his own heart.

He couldn't believe her. Didn't want to believe her. She was standing right there in front of him, for the first time in years, and…

"No," he whispered, so softly he barely heard it himself. No, she can't be… "Dying?" he repeated. Tears spilled from his blue eyes and slipped down his unshaven cheeks. He fought every urge in his body to reach out and touch her. Every urge to grab and hold her close until this horrible moment faded away into a cloud of smoke. He felt sick in his stomach. "How?" he forced himself to ask, he had to know. His mouth contorted into a petulant scowl as the anger and sadness built within.

Peyton sighed, shrugging her shoulders tiredly, and turned away from him to climb up onto the table. She sat and faced him again, her hands clasped tightly together upon her lap. "Best to start at the beginning," she told him and patted the spot next to her, beckoning him to sit and listen to her story. Lucas was far too numb to move, he could barely feel the wind against his skin; he shook his head instead. "I was so angry at you when you left LA that I started to throw myself into my work. I worked and worked - barely slept or ate - but it wasn't enough to fill the void. It wasn't…" she closed her eyes briefly, hoping to will away the tears that threatened to fall.

"It wasn't easy for me either, Peyton," Lucas defended. "It was really hard losing you. Really hard to let you go."

"I know," she said softly. Her green eyes clouded with tears as she stared up at him. "About a month after you left, I'd worked myself into exhaustion. I collapsed at work and was rushed to the hospital where the doctor…" her voice cracked under the emotional strain. "…the doctor told me I had a miscarriage."

Peyton forced herself to keep her eyes on Lucas. He stared at her in disbelief and looked like he wanted to vomit. He blinked slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, and plopped down on the bench of the table. His back was to her, so she couldn't see his face, but Peyton knew he was crying.

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling compelled to ease his suffering as if that would ease her own.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Lucas asked, unable to face her. Unable to stop the tears that streamed from his eyes.

"I wanted to. I was going to."

"When, Peyton?" He asked harshly; he did look at her now, blue eyes full of anger and sadness. "We haven't spoken in three years! When were you ever going to tell me?"

"I was going to tell you when you called me for the book signing in LA," she told him quietly. She understood his anger at the situation.

A look of quiet shock washed over Lucas' face. "You weren't there that day."

"Yes, I was," she revealed with a sad smile. "I came. We hadn't talked in a while and I was going to tell you about the baby," she assured him with a nod. She wiped away the tear diligently before continuing. "I was so proud of you. And even though we were broken up, I knew…" she shook her head. "When I got there I saw you with Lindsey. I figured you two were together…and you were. I couldn't tell you about the baby then. I couldn't even face you."

Lucas closed his eyes tightly, trying to regain some of his composure. It was a losing battle since his heart continued to break into thousands of pieces. He sat there quietly waiting for Peyton to finish, but wholly unsure whether he wanted to know the rest or not.

"After the baby… working wasn't enough to fill the void anymore. I started to drink heavily. And when that didn't work… I used sex." Her reddened eyes filled with more tears. "I met this guy in a bar and took him home." Hello, I'm Andrew. "He was HIV positive."

Lucas' eyes grew wide with fright. He wanted to speak to her, to say anything...something, but his mind ceased to cooperate. He could only stare at her. Could only see before him the love of his life…

"I have AIDS, Lucas."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lucas Scott remembered the first time he ever saw Peyton Sawyer. All skinny arms and a tangled mess of hair. Her green eyes called to him even at a young age. When he was in eighth grade, he made a prediction that he would marry Peyton some day.

Funny how dreams fade away.

He swallowed hard, trying to digest the words she'd just said. Trying to wrap his mind around the concept of never seeing those green eyes again. Of never seeing her smile at him, so full of life and joy, the way she did a few minutes ago.

He felt dizzy.

Words flooded his mind - of comfort, forgiveness, anger and sorrow - but he couldn't speak any of them. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest, so hard he though it would break, and he cried. Unashamed tears of love for the girl of his dreams.

She can't die, he thought desperately.

"You… medication. There is medication to prolong this. Medi- something," he said, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms. "You can fight this, Peyton."

"No, I can't," she told him, gently shaking her head.

"Yes, yes, you can. You're Peyton Sawyer… We can fly to New York for specialists. I'm sure Brooke…" he continued his protest, unable and unwilling to listen to her the many time she tried to interrupt him.

"Lucas!" she yelled finally, her green eyes set with determination. "I've tried that," she told him a bit softer. "When I told Brooke, she flew out and both of us spend an obscene amount of money on various doctors to find out if there was anything that could be done." He looked so hopeful she hated to continue, but he needed to accept reality just as she and Brooke had to. "But they all said the same thing. It wasn't caught in time. It… the disease has progressed too far. I'm on a medicine protocol but that is only for pain and nausea. It won't prevent or prolong the inevitable."

Lucas shook his head, unable to relinquish the hope that they could find a way.

Peyton sighed heavily as she watched the hope fading away from his eyes. "I'm not mad anymore, Luke. I'm not bitter. I've just… accepted it."

"Why?" he asked incredulous. "How can you accept your death, Peyton?"

"Because there is nothing else to do but accept it. I'm too tired and too sick to fight this any longer. I came back home to maybe find something worth living for in the time that I have left. I came home to find peace… to leave my mark on the world. I can't do that if I'm angry and bitter all the time."

Lucas shook his head once more. "I can't accept your death, Peyton. I won't."

"I don't want that, Lucas. I do not want you, Brooke, my dad, or anyone else to live with my disease. I'm the only one who has to do that. It's my burden to bear for the mistakes that I have made and I will do that alone. All I want from you… all I want for you is happiness. I want you to be happy, Lucas. With writing, with Lindsey and with your own life." She smiled at him sweetly. "Promise me, you'll do that. Promise me that you will not live a life full of mistakes and regrets. That you'll find something worth living for."

Lucas stared into her green eyes silently, unable to say the words she wanted to hear, unwilling to say that he would accept her death. Images of her from the past filled his mind. Happier times of years past…and some not so happy… but he couldn't imagine a world without her in it. Even though they hadn't spoken for three years, in the back of his mind he knew she was in LA and would come home eventually.

How could he let her go…

They stared at each other a moment longer, both pair of eyes pleading with the other, until Lucas finally gave in to her demand.

He couldn't…

"I promise."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lucas arrived home many hours after he intended. He stayed at the River court for a long time after Peyton left to go home. He tried to make sense of all that had happened today. How the day started off so normal and ended up being one of the worst days of his life.

His girlfriend Lindsey hadn't notice the change in his demeanor and he was thankful. He wouldn't know how to explain his mood. I saw Peyton and she told me that she was pregnant with and lost our baby. Oh, and she's dying…

"Lucas?" Lindsey's voice jarred his thoughts. She touched his shoulder and smiled down into his face. "Are you okay?"

No. "Yeah," he lied. "Fine. Just tired. It's been a long day."

"Oh, I forgot to mention it - Haley and I ran into Peyton and Brooke today at The Château," she revealed, her face taking on a wholly different expression but Lucas was too preoccupied to notice. Just the mention of Peyton's name stirred many feelings within him. Their conversation at the River court played in his mind and blocked out Lindsey's chatter.

Dying. Peyton Sawyer is… dying.

He couldn't accept that no matter how hard he tried.

"Luke?" Lindsey touched him this time as her voice was not enough to bring his attention back. "Are you sure you're alright?"

He needed time to think. Time to be alone with his thoughts and feelings and try to compose them… to make sense of them somehow.

"Yeah," he lied again. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked were you coming to bed?" she repeated for him, her head tilted to the side to get a proper view of his face.

"No," he answered slowly. "I think I might write for a while," he added, his mind never straying from Peyton.

Lindsey smiled pleasantly at him. "That's great, Luke," she said and headed off down the hall to his bedroom.

Lucas opened his laptop to a blank page and began to write with Peyton's words in mind.

find something worth living for…

His fingers typed furiously the words his mouth could not say. Words of love and regret…

'There once was a boy who saw a comet…'

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Author's Note: I know there are some people who are probably upset with me for making it AIDS, but as I was telling one reader: I have never (and I could be wrong) remember the TH gang mentioning, being worried about or even being tested for STDs with as many multiple and shared sexual partners as they all have had. That's not real life to me. Actions have consequences. Even though you're upset at the disease and/or her dying, I hope you continue to read and allow me the chance to entertain you. Thanks for reading.