A/N: Hey, you guys, I'm a liar: OTH may or may not have a seventh season. Excuse me while I take my foot out of my mouth. In other news…I can't believe I'm posting two different fics in about a two-hour time frame, but I hate to just have chapters sitting around on my computer. Besides, you all set a new review record on the last chapter, for which I am, as always, thankful. I guess that's the power of a good cliffhanger. Reviews really do light up crummy days, though. Keep doing what you're doing. Here's your reward for the last ones.
Chromatic: a term applied to notes that do not belong to the diatonic scale, misfitting notes which can either destroy or elevate a piece of music. The chromatic scale is lengthy and includes all the misfitting notes, giving it a sour, bitter sound.
Peyton pulled on a pair of old comfy jeans and a favourite shirt of hers in place of the more formal outfit she'd worn to dinner and jogged downstairs, rushing out the door after her daughter. Tric was empty and quiet in the dark of night – it was clear that Jenny had already left the building.
"Damn," she muttered to herself. Maybe her daughter was right. Maybe she was just a self-absorbed bitch who couldn't deal with her own issues from over a decade ago.
Or maybe she was just human. She loved Jenny with all her heart; her daughter had made her whole again, but she would always be haunted by the emptiness left within her by past losses and what-could-have-beens. It was just who she was. Peyton didn't cope well with the regret or the incessant ache of loss. She didn't know how to handle something that hurt that much, so she buried it safely within her soul. Only one person had ever delved deep enough, gotten her emotionally vulnerable enough, to see her tragedies. No one else could. All of which worked perfectly well until she'd been dragged back to the scene of the many crimes against her heart by some terrific twist of fate.
"You mean damn as in damn, Chris Keller, you turn me on?" asked a voice that seemed to come out of the darkness.
"Fuck!" Peyton cried, jumping approximately two feet in the air. "Dammit, Chris," she groaned as he came into full view. "You can't just do that to a person."
He approached her with his usual confident swagger, but she noticed something different about the way his eyes appeared. It must have been the low – basically nonexistent – lighting. "Well, then," he said simply, "What would you like me to do you, Blondie?"
Her habitual sarcasm overcame even her worry and annoyance, it was just that natural to her after having to deal with multiple horny record execs. "Since you asked…" she said coyly, taking a step toward him and lightly pressing her fingertips to his chest. His heart rate sped up, she could feel it, and it almost made her feel bad for leading him on, though she couldn't deny the subtle boost it gave her beaten ego. But then he leered at her expectantly, and she remembered that he was Chris Keller, and her desire for revenge returned. "I want you," she breathed huskily, flattening her palm against his chest. Abruptly, she pushed him away, clearly startling him: "To leave me the hell alone," she concluded. "I can't handle it this summer, Chris. You brought me here, so I'm just a little pissed off at you."
"You didn't have to come, Peyton."
"Thanks, I've been reminded of that," she snapped.
Something shifted in his demeanour, and she realized that the…affection she saw in his eyes was not just a trick being played by the night. He looked concerned. "Are you okay?" he asked simply.
"Um, well, considering my daughter and I just had a fight and she ran off, not really," she muttered sarcastically.
Chris shook his head, looking as though he was in awe.
"What?" she demanded, annoyed by his know-it-all expression.
"You really love her. It's just…it's good. You're really good to her."
She studied him curiously. "Yeah, well…thanks, I guess." She shrugged. "It's not a big deal, Chris; of course I'm good to her. There's nothing complicated about it. I love her. She's my daughter."
"But I'm not, am I?" a scathing voice asked from another ebony-hued corner of the club.
Peyton's heart actually stopped beating for a moment. "Wh-what?" she whispered.
Jenny took three steps forward, purposeful, heavy steps. Her eyes were rimmed in red and full of a wild sense of shock. She had her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "I said," she bit out. "I'm not your daughter, am I?"
"Nathan?" Haley peered into the room, taking in his shocked expression worriedly. "Hey, what happened? Where'd she go? Is she…is everything okay?" She crossed the room and sat down next to him, instinctively reaching for his hand. "Nathan?"
He swallowed thickly and met his wife's gaze hesitantly. "I just fucked everything up."
"Nathan…I need you to explain this to me," she said with a nervous laugh. "What is it?"
"Uh, I…I may have kind of sort of possibly…"
"Nathan," Haley warned.
He took a deep breath and just blurted it all out: "I just told Jenny that Peyton's not her birth mother."
Haley, a big practitioner of honestly, frowned. "I don't understand. Why is that a problem? She's not."
"Yeah, but…Jenny didn't exactly…know that."
Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "Oh, God."
"Yeah."
"Oh, Nathan…damn it," she murmured. "Poor thing. I'm sure this isn't what she expected from this summer." She shook her head. "I can't believe Peyton…or Jake…never told her. I thought…Nicki had partial custody or something? And I mean, after what Peyton went through with Ellie, how could she?" She looked at him for clarification and answers.
He could only shrug helplessly. "I have no idea about any of that, but I do know that I probably just gave her one of the biggest shocks of her life. Crap. I should've just kept my mouth shut."
"There was no way for you to know," Haley said quietly. "It's late. Where do you think she went?"
Nathan shrugged again, feeling particularly pitiful. "Maybe to find Peyton?"
Haley nodded, pressing her lips together so hard that they turned white.
"Hales?" he asked.
She turned to him with tears in her pretty eyes. "I worry about her," she confessed in a strained whisper.
Nathan tenderly reached up to wipe her tears away, cupping her face in his hands. He was thankful that he could do something right. "Who?"
Haley shrugged, shaking her head sadly. "Both of them." She pushed his hands away and cleaned her face up the best she could. "Oh, dammit, Nathan, I can't believe you told her that."
"You're the one who sent me in here to talk with her," he protested.
She stood up and started to pace. "She always calls Peyton 'mom'. We're such idiots for not picking up on all of this."
"Just because she addresses Peyton as her mother, it doesn't mean she thinks Peyton really is her biological mom," he argued.
"Shit," Haley muttered, moving out of the room. He shot to his feet and followed her. "I cannot believe you, Nathan. You know how much it means to have Peyton back in our lives. You know how badly I want to keep her around. Why weren't you more careful? Don't you care?"
"Of course I do!" he said hotly, honestly. He wanted to keep the pair of blondes in their lives as well, and he certainly hadn't meant to mess anything up.
"I ask you to do one thing…" she grouched as she marched to their living room. "God, Nathan, you saw how fast she bolted last time, and no one even knows why! I don't know where Jenny is. She's technically my responsibility this summer, and she could get hurt! Even if she's fine, she could be gone tomorrow! Both of them!"
"That's not going to happen this time," he insisted, with no grounds for his claim.
"Of course you would say that," she scoffed, a single tear gliding town her cheek. She wiped it away angrily.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Haley glared at him, the kind of glare that meant he was definitely sleeping on the couch and that he'd be privileged to receive anymore than civil conversation with her until the issue was resolved. Her eyes were icy cold despite the tears they leaked. "Because if she disappears this time, it's your fault."
Chris' eyes darted back and worth between mother and daughter. Or, mother and adoptive daughter. The two of them were engaged in a fierce staring contest, and neither looked willing to back down.
Jenny quirked her eyebrows expectantly. "Well?" she demanded, her voice crisp and cool.
Peyton was clearly being extraordinarily careful with the words she used. "What are you saying, Jenny?"
Jenny scoffed bitterly, looking older than she actually was despite her frazzled appearance. "Don't play dumb with me, Peyton," she said sourly.
"Honey," Peyton gasped in response to her daughter calling her by her first name.
"Don't call me 'honey', either! You have no right to do that! You're not my mother!"
"How…" Peyton began, desperate emotion filling her eyes.
"Uncle Nathan," Jenny began, calling him 'uncle' with pointed sarcasm, "let it slip that you and I aren't related. That you only even really met my father after I was born. I'm guessing you didn't tell them about all the lies you're living."
Ouch. Peyton Sawyer's daughter – adoptive daughter, whatever – certainly had perfected the art of delivering blows that hit home.
"Baby, please, let me…" Peyton trailed off. "I love you, Jenny, I always have. Maybe I'm not your biological mother, but I feel like I am. I love you like I am," she shrugged, a small smile touching her lips momentarily.
Jenny shook her head. "Don't call me 'baby'. I can't take your…lying…anymore. Do I even have any connection to you? Should I even be living with you, without Dad?"
Peyton looked absolutely devastated. "I adopted you a long time about, Jen," she said softly. "Legally, you are my child, and you're my girl in a million other ways, too."
Jenny just stared at her. "Where's my real mother?" she asked calmly.
Peyton recoiled as though she'd been slapped, and Chris couldn't deny the sudden urge he felt to intervene. "Listen, Jenny, Peyton is your real mom. She's been taking care of you your entire life."
Jenny turned to look at him as though he were certifiably insane. "A month ago, if you'd told me that Chris Keller would be defending my…fake mother…I would not have believed that."
"But he's right, hon," Peyton insisted, quiet earnestness making her more powerful than it normally was. "I am. I have been. Nicki was…God, Jenny, I was just trying to protect you. There was never a reason for you to doubt our relationship, or get hurt by the past."
"The past," Jenny repeated. "Your past, right? Because that's all that matters."
"You are part of my past."
Jenny shook her head stubbornly. "Where's my mom?"
"You mean, where's Nicki?" Peyton corrected, arching her eyebrows pointedly.
Her daughter's face twisted into a frown. "I mean, where is my mother?"
"I'm your mom, Jen, I've raised you and loved you and done everything I could for you. And because I love you, because I do everything I can for you…" Peyton lips trembled as she spoke, "I do not want to discuss Nicki with you."
"Is she dead?" Jenny asked point-blank, and Chris was amazed by her stoicism.
Peyton shook her head.
"Well, then, she's sure as hell better than you," Jenny spat out. "Where is she, Peyton?"
Peyton took in a shuddering breath, looking ready to burst into tears. "I don't know. And that's the honest truth," she insisted before Jenny could contradict her. "Dammit, honey, I don't…want to tell you this."
"Why?" she snapped. "Because Dad loved her more than he loved you? Because she would make a better mom? Because she's not pathetically hung up on whatever she had in high school?"
Peyton squeezed her eyes closed. When she opened them, they were such a deep green they almost looked brown. Chris realized that it was the shade her eyes got with grief, and he resisted the temptation to reach out and take her hand.
She looked directly into Jenny's eyes as she spoke, her voice full of an apology different from the one she herself owed the blonde teenager standing in front of her. "Because Nicki abandoned you when you were born, and the only reasons she had for looking back a couple times were in hopes of either rekindling her romance with your father or simply annoying and hurting him. Because Nicki never cared about you."
Jenny blinked. There was a profound honesty to Peyton's words that couldn't be debated, and Jenny suddenly looked fearful and lost. Her epic stand-off with her mother had come to a point when she wanted to take it all back, when she realized that her adoptive mother was all she had. Chris could easily read those thoughts in her eyes, her facial expression, and her physical stance.
"Sweetie," Peyton said softly, "I love you, and nothing else mattered. I just didn't think that it would be fair…for you to be hurt by that knowledge. Like you are now."
The anger built back up in Jenny's blue eyes. "You know what angers me, Mom?" she asked, harshly, her emotional stress making her forget that she'd purposefully been avoiding that term with Peyton. "That you lied to me about this, too. Something that directly affects me. That's what's not fair to me," she whispered, and turned on her heel and strode from the room.
"Baby," Peyton called pointlessly after her.
Chris stared at her worriedly. "Go after your girl," he instructed her impatiently.
She shook her head. "It won't do any good right now," she said mournfully. "She doesn't know anyone or anything here. She'll come back." She sank into a chair.
"I'm sorry, Peyton."
She looked confused by the genuine quality of his apology. "Thanks, Chris," she murmured. A tense moment passed, and then she stood abruptly. "Oh, God. I am the world's worst mother."
"No," he hastily assured her.
"Yeah, oh yeah, I am. She's not thinking straight, she's upset, and she doesn't know anything about this place. She's gone and anything could happen to her," she babbled. She rushed out of Tric in her new, more casual outfit, her curls bouncing lightly against her shoulders as Chris stole a look at her ass. Even when smitten by the prodigal daughter of One Tree Hill, he was still…well, Chris Keller. He was jarred back from his fantasies as he head her scream, "Jenny!" into the night, and hurried after her to help.
"Jenny!" Peyton called in anguish. Her eyes scanned the surrounding area frantically. "Okay. Okay. Chris, can you just…look for her, okay? I have to go to Haley's."
"Uh…okay. Yeah, okay." He was happy to help her. He began to walk briskly to his car, and then stopped. "Hey, um, Peyton?"
"What?" she asked, obviously not in the mood for anything unrelated to her daughter.
He shrugged. "It'll be okay."
She gave him a weak smile in return. "I hope," she said softly.
"Auntie Haley! Uncle Nathan!" Miranda called joyfully, flinging her arms around Haley's legs.
Brooke didn't say a word. She wished that she'd listened to the intelligent man she'd married. She was regretting her decision to stop by the Scott household unannounced. Nathan and Haley were clearly in the middle of a fight, which meant that Brooke found herself in an immensely awkward situation.
"Sorry," was all she said stupidly.
Nathan and Haley both blinked at her as though they'd forgotten that she existed – which Brooke had thought, until that moment, was impossible. "It's, um…" Haley seemed to be at a loss for words. "It's okay," she finally got out.
She frowned. "I'm really sorry for barging in, um...especially this late, but...what's going on, you two?"
Haley sighed. "Hey, Mira," she said softly to her niece, "why don't you go bug the twins? They'll still be awake, and I'm sure they'd be happy to play with you. Tell them that I said they have to share their toys, okay, cutie?"
Mira beamed, nodded, and ran off.
Haley and Nathan looked sad and conflicted. They exchanged a long, nervous look.
"You guys?" Brooke asked again. She was starting to worry.
"We should all sit," Nathan suggested lamely.
Brooke stepped over to a couch and sat down on it. "Okay, I'm sitting. Talk. Now. Tutor girl?" she asked, appealing to Haley.
"Listen…" Haley began, but she didn't seem able to say any more.
"Hey," Brooke said softly. She was beginning to panic. What could possibly be bad enough to warrant all their hesitation? "You can tell me anything," she assured them.
But she didn't need to be told. Before Nathan could offer up an explanation, the answer to her question stormed through the front door and into the living room so fast it was a blur.
Peyton Sawyer.
Fists clenched, eyes full of tears, loose blonde curls messy. As beautiful and as tragic as she had ever been. She was dressed in jeans, worn-in and comfortable, but her shirt struck Brooke, ever the fashionista, as uncharacteristic. It was pink silk, trimmed in lace with fluttery sleeves. She looked sad but happy, different but the same, older but familiar.
Peyton Sawyer.
Brooke shook her head in disbelief and struggled to get a hold of her breathing. "Peyton…?" she gasped, so softly it was probably inaudible to everyone else.
Her long-lost friend didn't notice her. She wasn't ignoring her, she just…didn't notice her. She clearly had other things on her mind as she charged toward Nathan. She fixed her uber-angry green orbs on Nathan and screamed, "How dare you?"
"Peyton –" he tried, sounding remorseful.
Brooke's eyes darted back to Peyton to analyze her reaction. How long had she been there? This was clearly Naley's big secret, the reason for Haley's distraction…how long had they known? How many times had they seen her? Were they ever planning on telling her that Peyton was back? And what had Nathan done to anger her so much?
"How dare you, Nathan?! You don't just get to tell her that. What the fuck?"
"Peyton…look, I'm sorry, but I kind of assumed that she'd know. That you would've told her?"
Who? Brooke wondered, struggling not to jump up and interfere.
"Who the hell are you to make that decision, huh? She's my kid. She never needed to know. I didn't want her to know. Can you even understand how much this will change things for us? You can't just do that, Nathan." She shook her head, curls hitting her face violently. "You're just as much of an ass as you used to be. She's missing. My kid is missing. Do you know how terrifying this is?"
"No," he admitted softly. "Peyton –"
"Shut up and listen to me, okay? I don't give a fuck about technicalities, she is my daughter, and when I find her, we are going home. This was a mistake. All of it, it was a mistake. God…I don't know where my baby is!" She pressed her hands to her face and took a shaky breath.
Haley stood up, her eyes filled with sadness, and tentatively approached her. "Honey, we're so sorry. We didn't know. Let us help you look for her, okay? It's a small town. She can't have gone far; I'm sure she's safe. We'll find her, I know we will, and then we'll all…talk. I understand that you're scared right now, but you shouldn't go. Please don't. I'm sure we'll find Jenny right away. Everything'll be okay. Alright?"
Brooke stared at them in utter bewilderment, slowly gathering the facts in her head. Peyton had a kid. A daughter. Just like she did. She pressed her lips together in an effort to stem the threatening flow of tears. How had they reached a point where they missed the births of each other's children? How had they come to a place where they had daughters who weren't best friends, just like they'd been?
Focus, she lectured her overly emotional mind. Peyton had a daughter, and the kid had apparently found out something Peyton didn't want her to know, courtesy of Nathan. But how could Nathan have known a piece of information that Peyton had kept a secret from her child? A disturbing through snuck into the back of Brooke's brain. Had Nathan and Haley kept in contact with Peyton for all these years? Had they been lying all those times they'd sadly reflected on what Peyton's life must've been like? Brooke didn't mention Peyton often – it hurt, and besides, Peyton's parting words before she skipped town had been a decree of her love for the man Brooke had married, which made things just a little bit awkward.
She could only watch as Peyton gave in to Haley's offered hug. "It's okay, Peyton," Haley said softly, keeping her arms securely wrapped around their old friend as she walked her out of the room.
Brooke stared after them for a moment, mouth open, before whirling on Nathan. "You want to do some explaining, hotshot?" she demanded harshly.
"I, um, I really should…" He looked almost frightened of her as he gestured vaguely after his wife and the girl Brooke assumed he hadn't seen in twelve years.
And then there was Haley, standing in the doorway of the room, always the mediator, always the problem solver. "I want you to take a drive around town and see if you can find her. If you do, I want nothing but 'Everything's going to be okay; just come home so we can talk' to come out of that mouth of yours, do you understand me?" she asked her husband.
"Yes," he muttered, looking down at the floor in shame. He rose and skirted past her like a scolded puppy dog.
"Haley," Brooke said desperately. "What…"
"Oh, God, listen, Brooke…I'm so sorry, but I have to help Peyton right now…"
Brooke looked down at her hands, linked together in her lap. "Right. Of course you do."
"I'm sorry," Haley said earnestly, her eyes pleading for understanding. "We'll talk, Tigger, I promise you," she insisted, and then bolted off.
Brooke sighed and slouched back onto the couch. Peyton Sawyer had been back for like three point seven seconds, and Haley and Nathan had already picked her over Brooke. Probably with good cause, she knew, but she was so shocked that she figured she was allowed a little irrationality. Her biggest fear with Lucas had always been coming in second, and now, well…Peyton Sawyer was back.
A/N: That's all for today..I have to keep you guessing. If you get bored, you could check out the oneshot I just published, which is L/P and N/H but rewinds in a sort of exploration of Nathan and Peyton's relationship. I've run out of ways to tell you how much I love reviews, but if you could leave me one, that would be fabulous.
