The Hand of God
It had been six days after Peyton was discharged from the hospital, and still she hadn't been out of the hotel. To be honest, she even hadn't managed to get out of the hallway were all of the rooms of the Fall Out Boy members were.
It was painful to see here getting so anxious about everything and everyone. Most of the time she passed in her music closet, letting no-one in without one hell of a very long conversation.
But no-one dared to let her alone in her hotel room, everyone seemed to walk on glass around her, they were keeping up a secret and Lucas didn't know why or what. But it worried him extremely.
Now everyone was around her, and in her room, but they hadn't much company of her since she always seem to lock herself up in the music hallway and she was the only one who had a key of that place.
She always was alone there, listening to sad music, but there was always, always somebody in her hotel room, if it wasn't someone of the band, it was someone of the security of the band, mostly Ryan and Jerry.
Jerry's 'shift' ended an hour ago and Ryan was there to take his place. They didn't seem to care that Lucas was almost constantly with her, it was something about the unsaid. Even Peyton didn't seem to care, the only one who she let inside of her closet was Pete, he had to, he had to do things for the funeral of their lost daughter.
Lucas was reading the paper on the sofa while Ryan nervously was walking around, checking his watch every two minutes. That really made Lucas nervous. "It's been too long." He suddenly said and began to knock on the door. "Peyton, open the door, it's Ryan!" He screamed gently, Lucas recognized hidden panic. "Come on Peyt!" But still there wasn't any response. Lucas stood up and walked over to Ryan. He realised no music was playing in the background, and it worried him, Peyton always played music.
Ryan walked away and came back with something his hand, and in seconds the door was open and Peyton was reviled. She laid on the ground, over her sketchbook, sleeping. Ryan picked her up easily and laid her on the bed. He looked worried when he saw strings of dried blood on her cheek. "Peyton." He softly shook with her shoulders. Slowly she began to wake up. "What?" Came out sleepily.
"Hi Peyt." Ryan softly said. He waited a minute before continuing, giving her the time to wake up and settle herself. "Why is there blood on your cheek?" Ryan asked when she seemed to be settled. "What?" She asked while yawing. "That." Ryan replied firmer and pressed his finger on her cheek. She looked confused and brushed her hand over her cheek and felt the sticky, dried blood there. She though, and her face relaxed after a few hesitating seconds.
"It's just from the cuts in my fingers." She said and rubbed her cheek softly. "Cuts in your fingers?" Ryan asked, his eyes were full with suspicious gaze. "Look, I cut my fingers with a paper of my sketchbook." And she showed her right hand, three fingers of the hand had little cuts on the tops. Lucas saw how the look in Ryan's darkened extremely, suspiciousness shot right through Peyton who also saw the look in his eyes. "It was by accident Ryan." And she drew back her hand like he had burned it with his stare. "Let me see it again." He tugged on her hand, his eyes studied it very long. "By accident? Three fingers Peyton!" He almost shouted. "It was by accident, Ryan. Believe me, I wouldn't …" Her voice was anxious. Lucas could feel how a fight between the two people before him took flight. "Hurt yourself on purpose! We both know better than that!" But suddenly Peyton decided to jump up and ran back to her hallway, but Ryan was faster and caught her before she even could reach it. He pulled her into his arms and didn't let go of her, not even when she began to scream and tried to punch him. "Stop babying me!" She screamed. "Stop it!"
And for a few minutes she kept screaming and tried to hurt Ryan with her blind rage but soon she exhausted herself and stopped. Carefully Ryan picked her up and laid her on the bed, it didn't take two minutes for Peyton to fall asleep.
Without giving Lucas some attention Ryan went pack to Peyton's closet, Lucas stood up from the place where he had been sitting and walked to the closet, to see what Ryan was doing. He was feverish searching through the small room, restlessly he moved items and checked everything not once, but twice. "What are you searching?" Lucas asked while Ryan picked up some papers. "Found." He picked up a paper, the paper with blood on. Very carefully he studied it.
"Why don't you believe her?" Lucas asked after a while. "I'm suspicious because I don't want her to try to kill herself twice, like my brother had also tried." Twice, that word fell like a glass on the ground and broke when it met the ground, pieces flying around, reaching Lucas, cutting him painfully when the realisation cut even deeper into his body.
"Kill herself?" His words fell like little bombs on the ground, causing little explosions in his unwitting mind. Ryan swallowed hard by the awareness he had unlocked words from his mind which were expelled to dark, hidden places there. His eyes flew around anxious, fearing somebody had heard him, that someone had heard what he had revealed against his own will, out of pure impulse. That punishment soon would follow.
"Ryan." Lucas said while walking closer. The boy before him bit on his lip, forcefully enough to make it bleed a little. "Is there something I need to know?" Lucas' voice wasn't shocked anymore, his shock was transformed into sudden coldness. Why did he have the feeling that more things were hidden to him?
"Ryan." Lucas repeated firmer, he walked closer and closer to him, to end up, almost standing against him, Lucas' sharp breaths reflected on Ryan's sudden pale skin. "You said it Ryan, it's out, and now I need to know what you meant earlier." His blue eyes pierced through Ryan's brown ones. The brown-haired boy looked away and suddenly moved away, but Lucas didn't give him much chance, he grasped his shoulders. "I need to know!" He more demanded than said. He was so close he could even see light pinkish flesh around the scar on his cheek.
"Okay, okay! Chill, just let me go, I'll tell!" Ryan rose up in defence and pushed Lucas away firmly but not violently. Lucas let go and watched Ryan when he walked over to the window and his brown eyes explored the view over a busy Chicago street. For minutes he just looked through the window, Lucas got impatient. "Ryan." His voice was unnaturally harsh. Sadness was the brown of Ryan's eyes when they found Peyton, sleeping in an uncomfortable position on the big bed, the sheets were twisted around her, like chains, her face looked so full of pain and exhaustion.
Ryan walked so aggravating slow to her bed, that it seemed like he would never make it. His hand reached out to touch her, but they didn't achieve their destiny, they ended up on the soft mattress. Lucas walked closer to her bed. The look in Ryan's eyes was so familiar, the pain and sorrow in it, the regret in abundance, but somehow little sparks showing now and then when good memories flashed through his mind.
And then he finally began to speak, the present of his voice, soft and slow. "One day. A few months back. Eight or seven months, I think." He began but stopped to swallow. "Pete and Peyton got into a fight about something. I never knew why, and I don't think any of us knew what it exactly was about. Afterwards, I picked something up from Patrick when he was talking with Andy. They said something about an issue with Peyton and her father." Lucas could immediately imagine the sentiment of the issue by Peyton. "Pete said something that must have hurt Peyton very bad because she locked herself up in that tiny hallway." He said and pointed her the music storage place. "We didn't hear her, we all know how stubborn she can be, she just is, she'll always will be. It's just a part of her nature." Lucas smiled, if knew everything about Peyton's stubbornness. "She locked herself up around noon, we didn't hear anything of her, but when it got late in the evening we decided that we needed to check on her, and when she didn't open the door or not even answer us, we forced the door. We found her …" He swallowed again, but this time it was much harder for him. "We found her bleeding from above her chest, a pen-knife still in her hand." Tears formed in his eyes.
Lucas was stunned, shocked, he couldn't believe what the boy before him said. "Why didn't it reach the media?" Lucas asked so soft that he even hesitated if he had asked it. "The personal doctor from the band took care of her, she hasn't left the hotel, and because of the band, their doctor could buy himself a nice new car so he would never say a word about it." The tone of Ryan got bitter. "Can you see that?" His voice was a lot nicer now. "What?" Lucas asked when he didn't get where Ryan's finger was gesturing at. "Just above her collar-bone." He answered. Lucas first didn't see anything, but then, when he fixated, he saw a very small, long white line above the left side of her collar bone, it was a scar. Tears sprung in his eyes. How could she ever had done that to herself?
"Do you understand now why I'm so suspicious? My brother Justin tried to kill himself too after his accident, my brother is a tough guy and me and my little sister Mara are very thankful for having him, without him we wouldn't been here. But after his accident he lost a lot of his strength and especially dignity, so he tried twice to kill himself. It shocked me, hurt me, made me doubt about life, it left me with questions; questions Justin can't even answer me because his mind was so thick as he had tried. And the memory of finding a strong man on the floor like a helpless dummy is still fresh and sharp. The memory of a bleeding Peyton who had barely a heartbeat is also cutting. Three blacks spot in my mind, I wouldn't let a fourth one get there, it won't happen again."
Silence was hard and painful, but also comforting when Lucas' blue eyes rested on the golden skin of Peyton's body. She made it somehow, very strangely, bearable; even it was her fault why this awkward silence was there in the first place.
"I am." Lucas struggled with his words. "I am sorry Ryan, I …" "It's okay Lucas." He said. With tears in his eyes Lucas sat on her bed, watching her sleep. Having a nightmare actually, her face was twisted in a fearful expression, because it was so silent you could even hear her little groans. It broke his hear to see her suffer, even when she slept, but he couldn't wake her up now. She hadn't slept in a week and the doctor obligated her to rest because she couldn't force her body right now. Lucas' white teeth found his lower lip, they buried themselves in the soft, sensitive flesh.
Lucas was so absent that he didn't notice he was hurting himself, it was until he tasted blood in his mouth, and faint shocks of almost pain waved through his hand. Slowly he removed his fingernails from the palm of his hand, they had left little, almost white stripes.
The illusion of silence returned, the irregular breathing of three people shattered what was supposed to be stillness, again interrupted after a few minutes by the ringing of Ryan's cell phone.
"Hello Justin." Ryan's words sounded. He quickly walked towards the door and laid a finger just beneath his right eye, and then the finger gestured towards Peyton. The unspoken words by his gestures were 'Watch Peyton'.
Ryan had been a while in the hallway by now, like around seven minutes. Suddenly faint groans were audible. Lucas immediately was alert, he checked if she wasn't awake. She was waking up, very slowly, sore. Lucas fingers glided over her cheek, automatically showing her comfort.
Watching her? You even didn't need to ask, he did it all the time and now he knew her hidden secret, he would never stop. Never stop again, he would protect her, always look after her. Or at least try, but he knew he couldn't cover her from everything, he realised it when he saw the blackness that tomorrow would bring in her shadowed green eyes…
Today was the day of 'the' funeral. The funeral of Roxanne, or Roxy, like Pete and the band members had already nicknamed her, before she … before she disappeared.
Lucas knew today would be hard, long, painful, sorrowful and most of all black. These twenty-four hours would influence the rest of his life, the rest of the lives from the people around him, and the most of Pete and Peyton, who lost their unborn child. The aftermath of this would enormously have impact on every single aspect of their lives.
Lucas was afraid to get up, get dressed. He didn't want to face it, this incredible pain he would see on her face, on her beautiful but now broken face. Lucas closed his eyes and tried to push that heartbreaking thoughts away, maybe if he tried hard enough he would fall asleep, or maybe better, he would open his eyes for real and find out that he was at home, with Peyton in his arms. That everything that happened the moment after he choose Brooke over Peyton so many years ago, that everything, every year, month, day, minute, second had been surreal. That he would wake up in the present, the same present as now, with the only different that he had chosen right so many years ago, and she would have been saved from all the harm she had suffered.
Guilt showed his ugly face, forcing Lucas out of his consideration that he could all deny it. This was real, all the wrong choices had been made, and all the harm had been done. Denying wouldn't be fair towards Peyton, she was his everything, she was everything he couldn't deny. He painfully realised that denying the truth was only an excuse from yourself because you are too weak to fight back. But wasn't fighting back his intention, why he came to Chicago, why he left his friends and family, the only home he ever knew? Yes, he left it behind to fight back, fight for everything that belonged to him, or everything that his mind and heart claimed for.
His long fingers went to brush along his hair but ended up on his forehead, an aching realisation caused invisible damage when he felt the still not fully health wound there. The reminder of his fight with the guy who needed to punished.
Sore and hesitating, but strangely refreshed he stood up. He walked over to the bathroom and faced himself in the mirror. He looked awful, terrible and the worst of all, he knew it himself. The face in the mirror wasn't anything form what he remember from yesterday, out of the blue it seemed like he had aged. His blue bright eyes had lost their shine, his strong facial expressions had fade, and his golden hair had become fragile like rye. What had happened?
Lucas had to drag himself out of his room and towards Peyton's. His black suit felt like a torturing, knowing the function it had was even a bigger torture. His knocked on her door were empty and hollowed through the place. Jerry opened the door, dressed also in black, his face was like a stone. So painfully hard.
Peyton stood on the other side of the room, Pete right beside her. She wasn't crying, like he had expected, she just stood there, her fingers nervously playing with the black bead necklace she was wearing. He observed her, took the imagine of a brooding Peyton in his mind, let it develop itself, waiting for the ruined puzzle to be made back into one fitting piece.
Her golden hair was curly and hung loosely around her pale shoulders, but some wisps were forced into a black bow. She hadn't any make up on, nothing to hide the nasty rash on the side of her face, nothing to camouflage her extreme pale skin tone, nothing to cover the big purple bags under her expired green eyes.
Her body was slightly embraced by the black, simple dress with cap sleeves. On her feet there were black high heels. Immediately everyone stood up, Lucas knew what that meant.
The funeral of Roxanne would be pretty intimate. Only Pete and Peyton, the boys of the band and Elle, and a few close friends from the management and the security would be there.
Jerry and Ryan covered Peyton from the paparazzi who had collected themselves before the hotel and the limousine which would bring Pete and Peyton to the cemetery. Sick people, was the only thing Lucas could think, disgusting people! How could they have pleasure from someone's sorrow, make money out of it, what was wrong with this sickening world?
More than ever Lucas longed for home, for his mother and his sister, for his brother and sister in law and little nephew, for his best friends. For Keith, he couldn't think about anyone other than him, Lucas was praying for him. He missed Keith so much, sometimes it was just too much to look at Lily and see the reflection of his beloved uncle in her face. His thoughts were soon interrupted the door of the car he was in opened. Lucas got out of the car and the first thing he saw was Peyton who struggled to move forward. The high heels at least should have been very uncomfortable to carry her slow and weakened body along to earth. Pete backed her up and brought her to the cream white coffin her daughter lay in. One red rose lay on top of it, with gold looking paint the words, Roxanne Sawyer Wentz were painted on the right side of the coffin and on the left side stood Fall Out Girl. On the back stood her day of 'birth' and also 'dead'. In front, an envelop was pinned against the wood. It was a letter Pete and Peyton wrote with all the feelings they had had about their daughter so far, a message to heaven, a message to her which began with the words: 'Dear Roxanne, our little daughter Roxy'. The imagine of a not completely developed baby into the girly cloths Peyton had let someone designed for her kept showing up in his mind and Lucas knew, it would never go away again.
The funeral was sad. Peyton and Pete stood hand in hand and hear how Patrick did his speech. Andy and Joe stood by Patrick, they had also something to say. But the saddest thing of all was the weather. When you think about funeral, you think autumn, leaves everywhere, rain, wind, grey clouds, maybe snow and storm. But this day, this specific day, the weather wasn't anything for a funeral. The sun shined weakly but somehow beautiful. The clouds were creamy white, the sky light denim blue.
After a long heartbreaking time full of so many painful words, hard realisations, mourning and so many other things that would make this to a black day in some people's history. The text that Peyton wrote during her lock-up sessions in her music hallway was read by Patrick. Her feelings found back in the words of many different songs but partly changed to make it more her pain and the pain from her husband. Words of stillness, words of pain, words of sorrow, words of regret … words which couldn't change anything anymore. They couldn't turn back time and make it better, they couldn't stop this for happing, and they couldn't do anything, but nothing at all. The only thing they could do now were making everything worse, more painful, more disastrous, more sorrowful, more like unreality. This never ending nightmare.
With eyes the size of baby worlds
We never could've seen this far
We never could've seen this coming
Seems like our world's falling apart
But we just can't let you go
Because we feel the pain
Know the signs
Is there truth in your pain?
You decide.
And somehow still you affect the things we do
We wish we could just make you turn around
Turn around and see us cry
There's so much we need to say to you
So many reasons why
You're the only one
Who really knew us at all
Yeah my girl, ain't that just a little strange
That time always reveals
The lonely light of morning
The wound that would not heal
It's the bitter taste of losing everything
That we have held so dear...
'Cause we're fake at the seams
We're lost in our dreams
And we, we want you to know that we can't let you go
But you're never coming home again
So there were times you'd rather die than leave
And it makes no sense
Because we wanted to tell you we'd changed
We wanted to tell you that things would be different this time
We don't see you
You see us
But you tell us that you love us but you never want to see us again
Though for us, you didn't die you just never had a chance to grow
And you'll always be the closest thing, we have, to bring up in a conversation
About love that didn't last, because we could never really call you ours
Why don't you tell us to believe?
Because if sadness is a colour,
Than it's blue just like your eyes
And sorrow can be all over you
'Cause we can't let go
We just can't find my way
Without you we just can't find my way
Are we as safe as we like ourselves believe?
And you were buried with our dreams
Peyton fell on her knees, the black dress followed while the wind made it dance a sober rhythm on the ground. Tears glistened on her cheeks as pure diamonds when the sun played hide and seek after the grey, tick, teary clouds.
Lucas realised something when the pace of his heart painfully picked up and Peyton's cherished diamond tears wetted the earth were her daughter would be buried under. He had loved Roxanne already, without knowing it, he had loved her, could have loved her when she was born, loved her … as his own daughter.