Chapter Text
Tree Hill High was like every other high school I’d been too. It had its social groups and pecking order and completely predictable teenagers cementing their personalities. Usually in whatever high school I was attending I had the blessed position of moderate invisibility but that hadn’t been an option when I arrived here over a year ago and whilst things had largely settled, everyone knew my name and paid attention to whatever I did.
I hated it.
But that’s what happens when your face is broadcast across every news network and is printed in every paper for months. Especially when the family who owns half the town decides to adopt you because of it.
I was the poster child for the Scott family’s heart for charity and goodwill. Paraded around like a prized pony for good press. It was hell. But I stayed for Lily. She got the nice half of the Scott family and she needed me to take the brunt of the attention so she could have a normal childhood from here on out. A happy one.
My one consolation is the beacon of light, my comet of hope, a goddess walking in the fields of asphodel guiding me to Elysium, Peyton Sawyer.
We’ve never spoken, only ever orbiting just close enough for a smile or a look.
She’s part of the Cheer Squad and as of last week I’m now being forced to be part of the football team. My job, to protect Tree Hill’s star athlete and Quarterback, Nathan Scott. Which is laughable seeing as we hate each other. Nathan’s a dick and we but heads because I won’t fall in line.
I might hate him but Lily needs me to do my job. Play as nice as possible so the worst sides of the Scott family leave her alone. Of course, I was only in this football mess due to Nathan opening his ugly mouth in the cafeteria last week. I’d kept it together when he had insinuated, I’d enjoyed my time of captivity, how I better not try touching anyone in the school now that my homicidal boyfriend couldn’t fuck me. But then he’d gone and dragged Lily into it asking if she enjoyed it like I did.
I’d seen red and launched myself at him punching him repeatedly in the face until I’d been pulled off. Dan Scott had kept us from being suspended and Keith had organized our punishment with Coach Whitey. We had to learn to be a team apparently, now that we were brothers. Dan hadn’t liked it until Keith had spun a nice line for him about how great it would look if Nathen Scott was defended by the adoptive brother who took down a serial killer. How everyone would want to come see the dynamic duo. Apparently then my tackle was seen as a beautiful thing and I’d been roped into a new kind of hell.
Dan Scott’s obsessive football training.
My one consolation again came in the form of Peyton Sawyer. The cheer squad practiced on the same oval some of the same days.
She’d been in the cafeteria when it had happened and hadn’t laughed. And before every practice since I joined, she’d put her shoes on nearest whatever bench I’d sat down on. I’d taken it as a sign. Hayley had told me to just suck it up and talk to her and I’d been working up my courage all day.
"Wait for me after we all finish here?" I asked almost hesitant as if expecting her refusal but she simply nodded. I paused a moment before quickly adding, "I want to tell you her story and mine. I want you to understand."
At those words, her head whipped up in surprise. She briefly met my eyes searchingly before looking away again and nodding once more before getting up and moving towards her squad.
It was horrible really. My need for her to understand. I didn't care about the others, but her opinion mattered greatly. I'd always admired her from afar but now that out orbits had mingled, I wanted her to like me. The real me not the poster child for good will.
Peyton Sawyer was connected and popular in her own right, while my status came from my new last name. I was an outsider, a frosty one at that and I wanted, needed even, for her to understand.
I had respected her instantly and I’ve always found it hard to respect anybody still going through puberty. And I knew she’d noticed my staring. Creepy if you weren't charismatic and unfortunately that was my problem. The fact she had agreed to stay back had been surprising enough but the look she had given me briefly at my confession was even more so.
Almost like she wanted me to be telling the truth. She didn’t look at me once during the entire practice but I got the impression she knew exactly where I was. Her movements careful and precise like a panther, watching without being noticed. Graceful and ethereal unlike my piercing, obvious gaze. I couldn't help it, everything about her drew me in and I wanted it to be mutual. God I wanted it to be mutual.
She wasn’t predictable like the others, she wasn't naïve or consumed with her own position. She was careful and precise. Like her place in the popular crowd made sense, she was insanely beautiful and very talented and her grades were never an issue and yet she also seemed quite out of place. She watched the world around her carefully yet remained undetected in her observation.
She was kind, never joining in on the teasing, stepping in were she could. She gave those around her just enough information to feel important but never enough to truly know her. Dangerous but not chaotically so like myself. No, Peyton Sawyer was lethal in an ethereal kind of way.
Her best friend, the head cheer leader by the name of Brooke Davis was stereotypical in every way. She was predictable in a chaotic kind of way. She wanted to be loved and to have the attention and devotion of those around her and when she wanted someone or something she usually got it. She regularly tried her flirtations on me, which made me vastly uncomfortable. I’d suspected she’d started the rumor I was gay. Because no one straight could possibly turn her down.However, I had seen a dedication and loyalty to Peyton I found to be quite admirable. In a way, giving into to Brooke would be fun and easy but it would also be wrong. I would never truly be able to love her and I was hopelessly interested in Peyton.
Where Brooke was a known flirt and serial dater, Peyton had a reputation for being untouchable. She hadn’t dated anyone since one of the jocks named Jake but that had only been for a month. She just didn’t seem inclined to date. Which meant Nate wanted her. He wanted to conquer her and she refused to be conquered. No matter what he tried she would find him lacking and he would give in to someone easier before getting bored and trying again.
Easy, whilst temporarily relieving, left an aftertaste that was stale and stagnant. I’d tried easy before I’d met Peyton and I found the idea of entertaining it now to be disrespectful to her, and therefore repulsive. The likelihood of her ever lowering herself to my level was almost laughable but then again, I had my own allure apparently and on occasion I’d seen her look my way whenever my tattoos were uncovered.
Before my shoot to stardom, my tattoos attracted those who wanted the bad boy but after the world had seen my protectiveness of Lily and I’d had my neck coved in her flowers as a promise to be her guardian protector, I was suddenly seen as a wounded hero. Whilst still viewed as mysterious and bit of a bad boy, Brooke had informed me that my love and dedication towards Lily was heart-warming and incredibly sexy. My tattoos made me edgy enough to be a bad boy but my heart was good enough, to be desired by many kinds of woman.
I didn’t care though. I didn’t want many kinds of woman. I wanted Peyton but only if she wanted me in return. I wanted to earn her devotion. She'd been my patron goddess from the moment I had walked in through the school’s double doors and seen her. She had never once joined in when the school’s views of me changed like the tide.
She watched; I knew that. But she kept the distance, so I did too, until I couldn't. A year and a half in Tree Hill before I had been unable to resist her pull and I felt like an idiot.
She was waiting for me after practice, sketchbook in hand, earbuds in, pompoms peeking out of her gym bag. She hadn’t even looked up at my approach, yet she was clearly aware of it, as she carefully packed her things and stood. Then, and only then, did she look up and meet my gaze. She smiled slightly before inclining her head toward the car park and setting off. I simply followed, gym bag in hand.
I didn't know how to start the conversation. To be honest I hadn't thought I'd get this far. I was almost positive she’d never let me. But she had. As I caught up to her, she spoke to me for the first time.
"I was surprised your pattern changed today. Usually, you just watch me. You've never actually spoken to me before and after a week of purposefully trying to get you to say something and coming away with nothing, I'm a little surprised it actually worked. And so thoroughly from what you said you wished to talk about." She looked at me briefly before facing forward again.
I looked away from her uncomfortably. She'd called me out so thoroughly, I couldn’t help but feel more embarrassed. She must think me a total creep.
"I'm glad you did though." She continued evenly. "I'd been trying to figure out how to instigate something myself but I could never find anything interesting enough to say and I didn’t want to come across as one of those girls who talk to you because of what happened. So, I stayed away."
At her words my head had whipped round and I had looked at her with genuine surprise and she laughed nervously and then more surprisingly, continued her confession.
"Don't seem so shocked, you aren't the only one who finds the other interesting. I'm just more subtle about it. You should see some of my sketch books though, you have quite the sketchable profile. You're quite fascinating and I mean that in the most un-creepy way possible."
Bold. And apparently not of the opinion that I was a creep. She was being very bold, extending an invitation of her own. She wanted this, at least for now. Her nervousness was intriguing. The idea that she thought it possible that her attention could come across creepy to me though was kind of encouraging.
"I don't know what to say." I confessed. "I thought you'd say no but I feel like I need you to hear my story from my own lips. Not Nate's version or anyone else’s. Figured once you knew, you could either avoid me forever or I’d at least know you weren’t repulsed."
She grimaced. "What he did, saying all those things, was wrong and everyone just listening was just as bad. I'm sorry I wasn't there when he started. I would have tried to stopped him sooner and please don’t think me so shallow that I could be repulsed by you because of what you’ve been through. I find you attractive and your tattoos alluring yes but the fact you actually seem to have your own soul is what has driven me to tentatively reach out."
Again, I looked at her in shock. She’d just called me attractive and alluring. What even… was I concussed? Alluring…?
I noticed her growing un-comfortability and so tried to put her a little at ease. "Even Dan got angry with Nate that night. Apparently, it was too far on the negative side even for him. Lily is just five and comments like that will affect her in the future."
She nodded in understanding and we fell back into silence, thankfully a little less awkward. I still had no idea how to start the real conversation though. How was I even supposed to begin to tell her what I desperately wanted too. The monsters in my closet that kept me isolated, hoping she wouldn’t run like the others before her.
The "Scott's Charity Case," was how most people looked at me now. A damaged foster kid taken in by the Scott Family Enterprises and adopted as their goodwill mascot. Keith was alright but his more charismatic brother Dan was another story. Keith and his wife Karen seemed to believe in the initiative but for Dan it was just good press.
I spent most of my time hiding out in one of Keith's garages until Dan needed me for some good PR. I felt like a show monkey and I hated it. But I had to stay for Lily. I had to protect her. She had found a nice home with Karen and Keith. It didn't matter I had the hell of Dan Scott’s home as long as Lily was safe. His wife Deb, was okay. Whenever she was home, it was a little nicer but she travelled a lot.
"Would it help if I asked you questions, clarify what I know of you?" Peyton asked bringing me out of my thoughts. We had arrived at her car. I rubbed the back of my neck nervously as she gestured to the passenger side door of her 1963 convertible Mercury Comet. The top was down.
I nodded moving towards it. "Yeah maybe." Was all I said as I climbed in.
She seemed satisfied though, as she nodded placing her bag in the back. She looked at mine on my lap and I quickly added it beside hers.
She didn’t say anything until she began to reverse.
"So, news clippings and gossip all say, you're a foster kid. You seem pretty protective of Lily though you aren't related and you've had it rough. You seem to be rather close to Hayley, who helped you catch up on your grades, but your relationship seems to have a rather sibling vibe to it?"
She looked at my briefly as if to confirm and at my nod she continued. “You seem to keep to the shadows as much as possible and have little to no interest in making deeper connections here other then what you have with Hayley and a rather interesting dynamic with Jake and Skills. You’ve helped Brooke out when she’s been a drunk mess but despite her efforts you haven’t given in once, she’s starting to think you’re gay.”
“I’m not.” I interjected. “I’m not gay, I mean.”
She seemed amused by my sudden need to clarify. “Yes, well, that’s nice. It segways nicely into my next observation. Never once have I not felt your eyes on me. From what I can tell, you aren't a creeper but still, technically I'm taking a risk being alone in a car with you, driving to a secluded spot."
At this she did seem to finally display some nervousness.
"You're safe with me. I'd never hurt you." I said quickly and she laughed a little, as if displacing some of her nerves.
"I know. Brooke told me how you've always helped her out and have never taken advantage despite how many times she's tried to get you too and knows exactly who I’m with this evening by the way."
"She's your friend," was all I said then after a pause continued, "I'd try to help anyone who needed it but, she's important to you." Her head whipped round so quickly I didn’t have time for the embarrassment of my confession to sink in.
"All those times you've helped her out were because of me?" She asked surprised and I nodded. “Oh, Brooke will love this.”
And it was. I had been going the extra mile when helping anyone connected to her. Confessing so was dangerously close to creepy. I shifted uncomfortably. I had decided to be brutally honest with her, yet at this point I wouldn’t be surprised if she pulled over and kicked me out of her car.
We continued in silence for a little bit until she suddenly did turn off the road and parked in front of the lake I hadn’t noticed. We had arrived at the location she had decided upon for our conversation, it seemed. She made no move to get out, though she did remove her seatbelt. I did the same.
It was now or never. I carefully removed my jacket exposing my tattooed arms. After placing it carefully on my bag in the back seat, I turned towards her. Her gazed was focused on my tattoos and she audibly gulped as I turned and exposed them fully to her.
"The left is for every foster home I've ever been in. The right is for what matters to me, significant moments, really important things. The rest of the tattoos on my body are more of the same or for books that have rescued me in their own ways."
"Your right arm is too bare." She whispered reaching over. "Your left is too full. There’s no room left!" Her fingers deftly ghosted over some of the markings and my skin tingled but oddly remained dormant. Her breath caught at the sight of the cigarette burns.
"House Number Twelve. I was eleven." I then pointed at the lighter on my left forearm. A beautiful old design for a horrific set of memories. I went through explaining them all, pointing at the scars some related too, baring my soul to her as she listened. Her gaze never wavering.
Once I started, I couldn't seem to stop. She drew the truth from me like a desperate prayer. She, the goddess I needed acceptance from. And she listened like no one else had. What I had kept from Hayley, spilled out to Peyton without resistance, like no part of my guarded soul could help it. It scared me.
I could feel my heart in my throat as the panic rose showing the last of the tattoos on my left. The one for the Scott Brothers, an interwoven SB in the middle of an oak tree, covering the last of the free space of my upper arm.
It was time for the story that haunted me most. I didn't wear it on my arm. It wasn't from a house. It was the reason Lily and I were picked by the Scott Family. The reason we were picked together. It was the one on my neck, large lilies that wrapped from my left side under my ear to the right, separated only at the back by a shield interwoven with the petals.
I sign to the world that I am and will always be, Lily's protector. That I stopped him.
I paused and took a few calming breathes and I began again.
"The 4xBridge Killer picked me up off the highway hitchhiking after I ran away from the last hell hole just after my fifteenth birthday. He held me for months. I never really knew why. Something caused him not to kill me with the others. Like I was a pet of some kind. Maybe it’s what he always did, I don’t know.
“He'd always take four victims at a time. Then he would slowly over the next few days or weeks, depending on the victims, torcher, rape and kill each one before dumping the bodies on a bridge like gatekeepers at both ends.
"I think he liked the way I tried to protect the others maybe. The resistance he got from me. I refused to break, no matter what he did. Then he found Lily and her family. She was the youngest he had ever brought in and had he succeeded would have been his youngest known victim other than me.”
I paused looking out across the lake, rubbing at my hands. “She was only four years old. He knew the moment he saw my face when he brought her in that he had me. I'll never forgot that smile."
I paused again. I needed more air, even with the roof down, the car was too cramped, I needed more space. A panic attack right now in her car wouldn’t be helpful. I got out and Peyton wordlessly followed. We leaned against the hood.
"He’d been taking three ever since taking me. He’d go out and get a fourth when I didn’t break." I continued. "His smile when he brought Lily in was like he knew this would be the one to ruin me. He killed her mum first, took him 3 days and he made us watch. He took his time with the dad, broken him over 2 weeks. He tended to go slower with the men. More satisfying.”
I stood up, fully turning to face her, "I've never felt so hopeless, so helpless and angry in my life.” My own anguish seemed reflected in her own face and I had to look away again. “I can still hear all their screams. At night, when I sleep, I see their faces more often than not. Lifeless and broken. Dan had to soundproof my room so my screams don’t wake them.” I confessed laughing hollowly, even to my ears.
“The Psych assures me I’m not going crazy, though sometimes I feel like am. No matter how hard I try, I can never escape the memories. And the human body remembers everything. Even now, I can still feel his hands roaming over me and it makes me sick. It’s why I try to avoid being touched. It’s like handprints of fire searing into my flesh. It’s not as bad with Karen as I’m learning to trust her motives but…” I trailed off helplessly.
“When he took Lily and dragged her before me, Peyton, something snapped inside me. I'd been pulling on the piping he had me attached too for months, it was a miracle, an act of the divine that it snapped when it did. I shoved it through his eye. I don’t know where the strength came from.
"I didn't know where we were but I got us into his truck and drove till I found the gate leading onto one of the main tracks of what turned out to be Yellow Stone national park. I didn’t have the key so I waited on the side of the road, Lily crying and clutching my legs, till a car came along. Scared them half to death all covered in blood.
"We clung so tightly to each other the M.E.’s had to sedate us. With both her parents dead and no one else left for her she entered the foster system. That’s when the Scotts got involved and adopted us as part of their charity heart case.
“The lilies are for her and the shield at the back is a reminder that he didn’t get to have her. I protected her. I saved her. A reminder to anyone who means her harm that I’ll do anything to protect her.”
I looked out across the lake, as the darkness came more swiftly. “I don’t expect anything from you Peyton. Heck, you can even leave now if you like but I want us to be friends, to be whatever you’ll let me be. You're like a goddess shining into my darkness. That's why I stare. That's why I watch over you and your friends. You give me hope. I’ve seen what the devil looks like and your face is like goodness itself, like life giving nectar to a man dying of thirst.
“You aren't naive or wilfully blind like a lot of others. Your goodness remains despite whatever you have seen… And I sound creepy again." I laughed nervously turning to her as I rubbed my neck again.
"Shut up you brave noble idiot. You don't have to justify yourself to me and you certainly don’t need to feel awkward. I already liked you enough not to find your staring creepy. Would it be alright if I gave you a hug?” She asked. “I feel like after all that, you deserve a hug but maybe that’s just me projecting.” She rambled.
“No, I’d love a hug, just don’t move your hands. I’m curious if your ability to make me feel safe and put me at ease affects how my body receives the hug.” I replied truthfully.
She nodded before twisting and rapping her arms around me. I tensed briefly before almost instantly relaxing. Peyton Sawyer knew how to hug. My God! I couldn’t remember receiving a hug I loved or craved more. Shit!
After a few moments she pulled back. Wiping at the tears that had started leaking from her eyes. “How was it?” She asked. “You, okay?”
“Can’t remember a better hug. You have a gift Peyton.” I said honestly.
She laughed before looking at me seriously. Determination written across her face.
"I hope you know we're friends now. I'm not going back to the far-off stares. You're one of my crew now."
"Nate won't like that." I replied.
"Nate can go shove it!” She said with surprising venom. “I'm not his property, he has no claim and I have zero interest. After hearing all this, he’ll be lucky if I don’t hit him thanks to that stunt he pulled. Not to mention the way he treats you. I thought it was horrible before, but after hearing you talk about it personally, it’s somehow so much worse. Where is his soul? His humanity!”
I again looked at her in shock. She looked ready for war and my breathe caught. She was breathtaking!
“So, I should say high to you at school tomorrow?” I asked hopefully.
She gave me a look as if to ask if I was really that stupid.
“Lukas, in case I haven’t made myself clear. I have a vested interest in you. You have a lot of horrible memories and I want to help you get better ones. Dan and Nate sure won't put in the effort! I will be so annoyed if you go back to avoiding me tomorrow. Heck! I don’t even want to leave right now except it’s getting cold and I’d hate for you to get in trouble. Help me put the roof up?"
My heart tightened and I nodded. I chucked my jacket over to her and she smiled gratefully, slipping it on. Then I began undoing the straps holding down her roof.
“Oh, this feels so nice. I might not give it back Lukas. In fact, I think you just lost your favourite jacket.” She joked.
I laughed. This was my dream. Peyton Sawyer hearing my story fully and choosing to stay and wearing my jacket. Rip the band aid off, Haley had said.
She had been right.