Wow. I officially suck! Right, so I discovered the original 3 chapters of this story (I lost the completed ones, boohoo) then couldn't bring myself to re-write them, but slowly (probably VERY slowly) and surely, here I am writing them again. What I also found super freaky was the fact that I was thinking about starting this up again just a few days before mashaasked me if I was continuing this. Freaky deaky or what, right?
OK, *PRE-WARNING* I was in a considerably… darker, place when I started writing this story, I'm a lot more of a happy dappy larry these days, if anyone has read my more recent stories, so this story might take a turn from my original plans, K? No complaining. And yesss, I know I should be updating my Pathan fic, EPTAS, but I'm not ATM, so deal ;D
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ONE TREE HILL, HOWEVER MUCH I DESPERATELY DID THE SCOTT BROTHERS, MMM… Also, I'm NOT American, please don't nag me about things I say wrong, or how I spell words, I don't tell you guys off, so common courtesy would be nice here
Chapter 11 – Out Of This World
Peyton lifted her head from out of her arms and looked at Brooke, tears streaming down her face. "Br-Brooke." She collapsed into hysterical sobs.
"Peyton, what's wrong?"
"I- I le-let h-him."
"What honey? What do you mean you let him?"
"He was so strong! I couldn't s-stop it. I ga-gave up. I let him ra-rape me." she put her head back on the table sobbing.
"Oh, P." Brooke went round to Peyton and gave her a bear hug, letting her cry on her shoulder, soft tear quietly rolling down her own face.
What neither of them realised was that Lucas was standing in the doorway, and man – did he look pissed.
Those words did not just leave her lips. Not my Peyton's perfect lips. She wouldn't, she couldn't. She's my Peyton. My strong, independent, feisty, Peyton. She has always been able to stand up for herself. Always had a few choice words to say to someone who got on her nerves, or did something she deemed just absolutely unacceptable. But then it sunk in, my Peyton, my precious Peyton, was a 110lb girl, who, despite the self-defence training from her marine brother, would easily be overpowered by a man who was big enough, and able to apply his strength in the right way, an athletic man. I shuddered as I got an image of Peyton trying to fight off someone of my brother's physique.
I was completely overwhelmed; I just stood there, saying nothing. Nothing. I was supposed to be her protector, and hearing that she was so defenceless, she actually couldn't fight anymore left me speechless. The girls still hadn't noticed I was here, so I turned around. I had failed her. I failed my Peyton.
Brooke pulled away from the embrace when she heard the front door close.
''Brooke? What was that?" Peyton asked, fear etching her features.
I don't know P. I'll go check now, OK?" She smiled reassuringly at her best friend, and then made her way through the short hallway, and to the front door. She opened the door, just in time to see an old mustang pulling away from the front of the house. She squinted her eyes looking closer at the driver, even though she knew exactly who it was, but when she looked closely, she could see the hurt on his face, and the way he deftly swept away his tears. "Lucas Scott crying," she said aloud to the empty space before her, "That is never a good sign."
She heard Peyton come up behind her, "What's never a good sign Brookie?" she asked, sniffling and trying to wipe away the tears that were cascading down her face. "Nothing, sweetie. Come on, we need a chat. And wine. Lots of wine." She added on as an afterthought with a fond smile.
Peyton laughed humourlessly, "Can we have something stronger?"
Brooke laughed with affection, "Sure thing, P. Sawyer, sure thing."
It was 8:30 PM. And the two best friends were curled up on the sofa, with a nearly empty bottle of red wine on the coffee table. They had been talking about nothing in particular for nearly three hours now, and Brooke was starting to get just the tiniest bit impatient.
"You ready to talk about it now, P?" she asked her softly.
Peyton shook her head. "There's not much to talk about Brooke. He attacked me, I tried to fight him off, but I just couldn't. I'm sorry about what I said earlier, I just got emotional and caught up in the moment, and I shouldn't have said any of that to you."
"Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer. You can say anything to me, you know that!"
"Even if I tell you I made out with your boyfriend in a motel room?" she asked kinking her eyebrow and grinning at Brooke.
Brooke in return, slapped her softly on her leg, stuck her tongue out her and then said, "Seriously though, P. I'm worried about you!"
"You have no reason to be." Peyton told her, all signs of joking gone from her face, as her tone dropped to a colder tone, and she shifted uncomfortably.
"I don't want you to end up blaming yourself!" Brooke said, letting her annoyance seep into her voice a little bit now.
Peyton stood up. "BUT IT IS MY FAULT!" She shouted, the resolve and generally calmness she had managed to keep up around Brooke finally breaking. "He asked me out, it was a week after me a Lucas broke up." She let out a breath, and sat down, ready to finally explain to her best friend what had actually happened. "I was nasty, if I was just kinder to him…"
"Hey, Peyton? Can you come in here for a minute?"
The skinny blonde wiped her eyes, and walked into her boss' office.
"Hi Mr Johnson, is everything ok?" she asked politely.
He shifted, obviously nervous. "Well, errm, actually Peyton. I was wondering if you might want to come out with me this weekend. Just get a couple of drinks maybe… with me?" he asked quickly and quietly.
She looked at him sharply. "Like a date?"
Mr Johnson rubbed the back of his neck, wiping away the sweat that was starting to form there. "Yeah?" He semi-asked.
"I'm sorry, Mr Johnson, I don't think that's really appropriate." She replied stiffly.
He laughed anxiously, "Well, if it's that you're worried about, it doesn't have to be a date? Just a drink between two people, colleagues can go out for drinks right?"
"You're not a colleague. You're my boss." She retorted.
"Well, yeah, but I'm still a human Peyton. And I-I am al-allowed to mm-take you out for a drink." He stammered.
"I'm underage." She said hastily.
"You can drink soda?" He offered feebly, already knowing where this was going.
"Look." Peyton snapped. "Mr Johnson. I just broke up with the LOVE of my life. I do not need creepy old men hitting on me everywhere I go. I am not a piece of meat for you to just take out, or fuck and then leave, alright? So no, I will not go out for a drink with you, and no I will never go out for a drink with you, got it?" she told him before turning around and stalking out.
The next morning she went straight to his office to apologise, but Mr Johnson, who was generally a forgiving and tolerable man, had snapped. Last night, when Peyton Sawyer lost her temper, his resolve, his last thread, being pulled at by two ex-wives, and a handful of children who wouldn't speak to him, was pulled just that little bit too far, leaving a clean break.
Peyton Sawyer is an unlucky girl.
Ooooh, feeling some sympathy for Mr J now? Not that I am condoning rape under ANY circumstances, I just thought you needed to see what led him to do what he did. So, after my, 2 year long absence? Hi. I hope you enjoyed it? Even though it's REALLY short (sorry) And if anyone read it, PLEASE review, just to let me know that people are still interested Chapter title 'Out Of This World by The Cure' My favourite sad time band :') Review, review, review, pleeeaseee