Reinventing The Wheel To Run Myself Over
It was weird how a person could change like the direction of the wind. Before the funeral Peyton hadn't been able to cry. And now, everything she had locked up came out. This was the third day that she laid crying in her bed, Pete laid with her, but it was pointless, she just wouldn't stop crying. She even didn't ate, she barely touch any liquid. From time to time someone forced her to drink a little water, but it all seemed so worthless when you offered your help and she even didn't bother to look up.
Lucas saw Peyton wilt like a flower, from the beautiful, colourful flower she was, to a wilted, sad one. She was even sadder then she had ever been. And he couldn't help her, and that hurt him the most, not being able to do anything to make her feel better.
Pete broke the silence, his voice rose up very weakly. Maybe because he wasn't alone with his wife, he never had a moment alone with her anymore since she left the hospital after her miscarriage. Slowly and tenderly he caressed his wife cheek. Her tears were drying, finally, maybe she had found peace inside and Lucas hoped it, wished for it. She deserved it.
"I really have to go baby girl." But that was the wrong selection of words, especially 'baby girl'. She began to cry again, hysterically, you could easily how Pete's eyes began to drown in his own tears by his realisation of what he said.
"I'm so sorry Peyt." But she didn't want to hear any of it. "Go away! Away! Leave me alone!" And Pete knew by now that you better did what she said, otherwise it would really get unpleasant.
He left, with tears in his eyes, fighting against incredible pain. It should have cost him so much effort to open the door and walk through it, his foots moved so slow that you almost believed someone had stones chained on them. The door fell in lock, the most terrible sign of all for Peyton. How many times had she seen doors fell in lock since she was born? Real ones and imaginary ones? Too many times, Lucas knew.
From the corner of his eye he saw Jerry and Ryan exchange a worried look. But then they returned all their attention back to the newspapers before them. Lucas observed Peyton, the sheets that covered her body were dirty and crumbled. Her body moved very unnatural, she looked very sick. She was pale, she had a cold even she had been barely outside, she had other flue symptoms. The doctor visited her every two days since her miscarriage but she practically refused every medication. Sometimes she just laid there crying and groaning, just out of pain only. Her body seemed to punish her for unknown reasons.
She had become very anxiously around her body since the funeral, only Pete had the access to touch her. His touch was the only one she accepted her, the touch of anyone else, even Lucas she refused. But Lucas decided to try again, since no-one except Ryan and Jerry were in the room, and they could act so subtle that you didn't even knew they were in the same room. But it somehow was their job.
"Hi Peyton." Lucas said very softy and brought himself to her. He sat himself down on the bed and smiled gentle, bringing himself closer and closer to her. Her body seemed to be relaxed, but suddenly she shrunk and squeezed her eyes shut. She closed herself off and shut him out. Lucas felt himself hurt when she did that, every time it got more painful. He wanted to save her from this horrible nightmare, he wished he could so badly.
Suddenly Hemingway jumped on the bed. Actually not jump, it made his way on the bed with some effort. He nestled himself against Peyton and unexpectedly she seemed to relax. She reached out for him and stroked his soft pelt. Lucas found himself surprised, soothed but most of all hurt in one second. How far would this go? By now the only thing she really trusts is a dog. Lucas had noticed that she very easily swung herself to Pete but as fast she could force him away from her when she had enough.
How sad was this that only trust she could build was for a dog. But he could understand. Hemingway didn't speak, didn't protest … didn't reject. But somehow she felt like he listened to her and understood her.
The whole day she lay there with Hemingway, whispering more than hundred words in his ear. But Lucas became aware of how dangerous this may be, she was closing herself off from the world again, from every living person, and placed herself in a world with only Hemingway. Without anyone to stop her from anything, she locked herself up in a place where only her voice could be heard and the other only listened. In a world were love was silent and didn't protest, a world were Peyton made her rules and she didn't even had to follow them, a wrong world.
And he definitely knew when he heard her whisper the words 'little Roxanne' against him. Lucas stood up from his chair, left his laptop with his mailbox open. "Hemingway." His voice rose up and he stroked the dog's head. "What about Ryan and Jerry go take a walk with you." He lifted the animal of the bed while Jerry walked over to them. "Come on doggy." He said and playfully rubbed his back. "Come Ryan, let's go." But Lucas could see that it was hard for Ryan that he had to leave without any decent reason. Lucas' blue eyes told him one, but he didn't want to find it. "Ryan, after the walk we'll visit my mom, she'll be pleased to see you. So will our girl next door." Jerry winked but Ryan's look fell into disgust. Finally they left.
Lucas' blue eyes found Peyton pouting while she lay above the sheets. He knew he had to be careful now. "I've got something for you." He said, he sounded hopeful. But she didn't bother to look up at him. "It's something that is going to make you happy." He tried, he saw how she tried to control her body that stirred. "If you don't like it you can break it." He said, trying to lighten the mood. She looked up, finally.
"Come here." He softly said and reached his hand invitingly towards her. Very listless she accepted his invitation by laying her cold tiny hand in his. "Close your eyes." He whispered in her ear, and she did. He leaded her to her favourite place, her music closet. "Open your eyes." He said and she did what he said. "What?" She asked on a hoarse tone. "On the shelf, do you see something new?" He asked while pointing at that one shelf before them.
Her mouth fell open as she immediately discovered the new item. Her hands eagerly reached out and shove the thing which was wrapped up as a present. Her fingers impatiently ripped off the green paper. The 'A Mark, a Mission, a Brand, a Scar' record from Dashboard Confessional was revealed. "I found it yesterday in a shop. I know you were very attached to it before you broke it in that fight with your dad." And suddenly teardrops ran over cheeks and fell on the record while her fingers traced along it. "How do you dare to involve my dad in this?!" She screamed, her voice was very sore. "Peyton?" He was more than just uncomfortable with her reaction. "How do you dare?!" She screamed and pushed him in the stomach. He shrunk for a second but then fixed himself. "I'm not involving your dad Peyton. I just bought you one of your favourite records." He said in defence. "But speaking of your dad, why hasn't he called yet?" But Lucas immediately wished he could take those words back. "Because he told me months ago that I could walk to hell if I wanted!" And she ran out of her room. "I'm sorry Peyton, I didn't know!" Lucas screamed after her.
He didn't found her, but then saw the opened door of the bathroom. He found her hidden away after the douche curtain.
"Peyton." He said full of emotion. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." And tried to put himself down besides her. And for minutes neither of them spoke. "Do you want to talk about it?" Lucas decided to ask after a few minutes. First she shook her head but when she saw his blue eyes through her tears she nodded. "Eight months back, on a Thursday." She began hesitantly. "My dad called me and asked me why I wasn't at the cemetery in Tree Hill to remember my death mom with him. I told him I had wanted to come but because we were in Europe, I couldn't. Things got heated and he told me, since I also missed the previous days were we used to remember my mom and Ellie, and I could go straight to hell for all he cared because he accused me for not being anything like 'his daughter'." Came out very slow and painfully, immediately she fell back in tears. Lucas couldn't believe this, that Larry could have said this, to the girl who was like his daughter for him.
"It's all my fault. Why did I have to do it?! Karma does really bite me in the ass every time!" She quietly blamed herself. "Ssshhh, Peyton don't but all the blame on you, you know it's not true." He said and moved closer to her. "I shouldn't have cheated on him." She sobbed. "You haven't Peyton." He said reassuring, undertakes a measured action to rub her back soothingly. And she doesn't reject it, Lucas hadn't been so relieved the last few weeks. "I shouldn't have kissed him." She sobbed broken. And Lucas felt a lump of ice slide along his back. "Peyton?" He asked very slowly and full of hesitation, his voice got high. "Kissed who?"
A painful sob followed by a hard try to swallow. "Ryan." She sniffed. And Lucas was totally knocked of his feet. "How?" He asked without realising it, but he did, making Peyton hide away in her shell. She shook her head and pressed her lips onto each other, making them form a small line. "Peyton." He said softly, but she kept shaking her head. Lucas knew she didn't want to tell, but he would make her tell what happened, even it hurt him like hell. "You know I'll keep asking until you're going to give me an answer." He said simply, hoping he would get it out of her.
"It was a few months after Ryan joined the crew instead of his brother Justin after he got shot. I'm so much with the crew guys, we practically always hang out with them if the band has a concert or something. One afternoon on a concert day, I was hanging out with the crew guys while the band was giving their concert and we kind of where fooling around. We always do, it's just us. And we were playing 'Truth or Dare' just to make the time pass and it was a lot of fun to hear or do certain stuff, and they always make me join the game because they say it's stupid and boring without me. So I did, and I sat between Ryan and Jerry. At this certain moment, one of our other bodyguards dared Ryan to kiss me. Okay, I knew Ryan liked me, the guys always tease him because he's so kind to me, and I didn't disagree, there's nothing wrong with a little peck on the lips, if it's for fooling a bit." She took a deep breath. "First Ryan didn't want to but the guys kept saying he should go for it. When the guys were cheering for him, Jerry whispered in my ear that I should let him go for it. Just a little fooling around. And I did let him go for it, it wasn't tongue or anything, but also not near chaste." And she swallowed again, but it was much harder this time.
"And now they are punishing me for it." She said bitter. "Because for me it was nothing, but for Ryan it meant too much. And that I denied it while I knew Ryan had those feelings for me."
Again she began to cry again, Lucas very carefully scooped her up and sat her down on his lap. "Peyton." He softly whispered in her ear, hoping he could sooth her. "I screwed up everything." She sobbed and clenched her fits and began to punch weakly against his chest. "It's all my fault." She sobbed, Lucas hold her tightly against him. Hoping he would be able to heal her, maybe not now but somewhere in the near future.
It was evening, just before dinner. The time when Peyton's doctor visited her. "How are you doing today?" He asked towards Peyton, but her only response was a low growl. "Would you mind to sit down on the bed so I can examine you?" He asked, taking some stuff out of his suitcase. But Peyton didn't move and kept lying on the bed, the sheets covering her tightly. The doctor tried again a few times to get her out of bed, but she ignored him. "Your gynaecologist is also here, should he examine you instead of me?" The man asked and her gynaecologist came in. It was the same man that told her she was pregnant, Lucas recognized him. He couldn't believe she was so daring to take that risk. The gynaecologist came closer to the bed but then Peyton started to shout immediately. "Don't you dare to touch me! The last time you touched me was to take away MY DAUGTHER I don't want you near, son of a bitch!"
Pete had been watching the whole situation from his chair. He sighed and closed his eyes for a second. He nodded towards the doctors and they looked at each other. "Miss Sawyer, we agreed that maybe you should go see a psychologist. You are going to an emotional rollercoaster right now, maybe its better of you clear things up a little for yourself with the help of others."
Almost immediately she began fight back in disbelieves. "I can help myself." She guaranteed everyone, but the look in her anxious look in her eyes was telling a whole different story. She couldn't persuade the people, neither the doctors, neither her husband, neither her friends. Not even Lucas. "The first step is to admit you need help Peyton." The doctor said while coming closer again. But she immediately began to scream again. "I don't need any help, I need to be left alone!"
Everyone left the air escape of his lungs, frustrated. This was going to be a long and extremely difficult talk. They talked through the night, but the day afterwards, Peyton stood there in the early afternoon in Lucas' doorway. A tight black skirt and a white blouse with a stiff fantasy on the back, one button too much opened and her hair in a fancy ponytail. She looked like his perfect office employee, or certainly the one out his fantasies.
Only a half hour later that sat in the psychologist office. It was an office with a dark wooden desk and cupboards. A warm coloured rug and not many details on cupboards or walls. The room looked melancholic, the air seemed heavier in the space. One big window after the desk, giving a great view over a colourful garden, the only thing that lightened the extreme painful and complicated mood.
"You need to learn Peyton, that this isn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done. It's the inevitable, it was meant to happen." The man spoke on his specific tone. "Well! Is that what you think?! That all this crap is supposed to happen to me? Like I searched it?" Lucas saw how her rage swelled up and would leave destruction as far as you looked if it went blind and touched every spot it could get too.
"That's not what I'm saying Miss Wentz, I know that since you already had a very difficult past. That this …" And now her rage went blind. "My past? My past? You don't know anything about 'my' past." Rage hit and hurt. "Miss Wentz, I need you to calm down." He spoke harsh, already impatient. "You don't need anything for me!" She screamed. "The only thing you need from me is my money, which you are not getting by the way because I'm THROUGH!" And she rose up from her seat.
"Come on Lucas!" And she grabbed her purse and stormed out, Lucas was as speechless as the fifty-five year old shrink before him. His blue eyes apologised while his tongue formed the words: "Maybe it's still too soon." Then he stepped out the office, hoping to found Peyton anywhere near. He was slightly afraid that he wouldn't find her. She knew her way in Chicago blindly, while Lucas still fought against the feeling that every street just looked like every one he already went through.
But fortunately he found her, she was pacing a hole in the concrete foot walk with her clicking high heels. Lucas slowed down his own pace with the pace from his heart that calmed down. Very carefully he went closer to her, giving himself a chance to observe her, to analyze what was going o her messed up head.
"Are you okay?" He asked while laying a warm hand on her slender shoulder. "Do I look okay?" She asked furiously. Do you think I am okay?" Her rage began to fly out in the form as disliked, sharp, cutting words. "How do you even dare to ask if I'm okay? I just lost my …" Lucas couldn't hear her say those words anymore. Didn't want to hear how painfully disastrous they were. He forced her body to his one by the action of locking her up in his embrace. Let her head find a hard but comforting place on his shoulder. She began to shed salt but mostly bitter tears against his broad shoulder. She clenched her fist full with the soft material of his grey button-down shirt. She made it tighten around his torso, like this frightening feeling around his heart.
"What for a horrible person I've become?" She asked him. "What did happen to me?" She cried. Soothingly he rocked her, knowing that maybe realisation was the first step to a slow developing progress. "Nothing happened." He guaranteed her while stroking her blond hair. "You've just change."
Back in the hotel, Peyton lay on the couch with her eyes closed listening to the music that found its way out of the stereo. Comforting words from the album of the Fray.
She doesn't look, she doesn't see
Opens up for nobody
Figures out, she figures out
Narrow line, she can't decide
Everything short of suicide
Never hurts, nearly works.
Pete walked in, he still looked awful. Slowly he walked over to Peyton, gladly surprised with the fact his wife wasn't crying. "Hi sweetheart." He said and wanted to kiss Peyton but she abruptly moved her head away. Her eyes flew up and killed him with her look.
No one expects
You to get up
All on your own with
No one around
"It's your fault." She said coldly. Pete was confused. "Peyt …" But she abruptly broke him off. "It's YOUR fault, I lost Roxanne! Because of you our wedding tape got exposed, because of you I was afraid to tell about my pregnancy …" She was about to throw a shower of other trashy words over him but he was the first to walk away and slammed the door.
Everyone looked shocked, including Lucas. Silence was sharp and painfully. Looks were exchanged, judging and unforgiving. Jerry and Patrick exchanged a look, an unspoken order and they both took off too. Probably to go find Pete. Andy looked at Joe and then back at Peyton. You could read confusion on their faces, if they now asked or said something to Peyton, they would betray Pete. But this was getting an awkward and sore silence which would lead to a stumbling conversation.
Lucas nodded towards them and gestured towards the door. The unspoken message: You can leave if you want to. And it was exactly what they did, left the room without saying a word.
Lucas decided this couldn't last any longer anymore. She was hurting everyone around her, the damage she already brought would she regret as soon as her mind cleared up, but it didn't seem like happing anytime in the near future. So he made a decision, the decision to help her clear up her mind. In his own maybe odd way, but certainly successful way, he had discovered when he lost his uncle. Maybe if it came out of his mouth, she would accept it, because she couldn't deny what had happened to him that one day. That his life shattered by losing one of his parents, or as good or even better as parent. It had shattered her life twice, but she never collected her strength to face what he had faced, and he would show her today that if she faced what he had faced, this all would maybe become a little more bearable.
"Get dressed Peyton. We have an appointment with someone." She immediately made herself ready to fight again. "I'm not going to see a doctor! Over my dead body!" Lucas sighed but knew he couldn't let her get to him now. "Just get dressed, you'll like who we are going to meet." He guaranteed her.
Another half hour later Lucas and Peyton stood at the cemetery. "Why are we here?" She asked while she rubbed her arms, she was shivering. From heat to toe, maybe she wasn't dressed for the unexpected cold of the season. The darkness had dragged the cold along with him.
Peyton looked as one with the darkness, her black tight trousers, dark grey long shirt finished with a broad black leather belt and high heels perfect accented the colours of night. One of her old leather jackets embraced her slightly.
Lucas took her by the hand and leaded her to a grave, Roxanne's grave. As soon as Peyton realised she was standing on her daughter's grave, she wanted to get away again. She shook her head. "I'm not doing this Lucas." She apologised and tried to pull her hand out of his, but he was prepared and tightened his grip.
"Running away won't help you." He softly said and held her hand as she turned away from him. "Take your sketchbook, I want you to do something." He said and squeezed her hand. "But I don't have it with me." She said and was ready to run away but he still held her hand. "Yes you have, it's in your bag." When he insisted, she opened the bag and took it out, surprised it was in there. The truth, Lucas had putted in there when she had changed her cloths.
After a great silence, Lucas let his boyish, near masculine voice blow with the same rhythm as the wind. "When Keith died, I was afraid may memories would fade away with each day he was taken away from us. And I wanted to stop that process, I was afraid I could never look at further again, because a big part of my future was taken away so suddenly." He paused for a second. "So what I did, to stop this painful process, to let Keith live further in my memory. Every month I write about him, or every special occasion on my life or someone who was close to him. How he would look, how he would feel about things. I created him over and over again, how he would have been probably. It really helps. Believe me Peyton, so you can hold the person you love near, even if they died. They will be how you want them to be, they won't disappoint you." He looked at her and saw the hesitation on her face through the dark. "Maybe it's idealising someone, but it will help you Peyton. I promise, it helps me to hold Keith near and to love him, to show him that I can and can't live without him. That I can lead my life without him there in person, but that I can't lead my life without him there in my mind." He finished.
"Sketch Roxanne Peyton. Imagine how she would look now. How she would look today." He softly said while caressing her skin with his breath. And that was what she did, she sat down and began to sketch feverish. After a half hour she tugged on Lucas' sleeve who was sitting on a bench, resting with his eyes closed.
"Look Lucas." She said, her voice sounded renewed. "This is Roxanne Wentz." She said and smiled weakly. A sketch of a beautiful little girl laying a crib, with a blissful childish smile and spark in her eyes stared at Lucas. Satisfied he laid his arm around her shoulders. "Do you feel better now?" He asked while pulling her closer to him. "Much better." She answered him. They walked away from Roxanne's grave. "Thank you Luke." She said and peacefully laid her head on her shoulder. Renewed she left the cemetery, everything she felt now was much better, everything because of Lucas.