Don't be mad at me, because I know I should be updating some stories, but I really wanted to do this! I am so disappointed with the show, I had to do something to make me feel better about it! So! That's what this is! My fantasy scene for season 6! WOOHHOO!
And I'm going to challenge all of you writers out there to do the same thing! What is your fantasy scene for season 6? I know you have them! You have to with the way the show is going! SO, if you do take my challenge, please let me know so I can read it!
Caution: This is rated M for a reason. :)
Oh! And I don't own One Tree Hill or the characters. If I did, it wouldn't be so bad. :)
Enjoy!
Oh! And I want to apologize to my beta for not sending this to her first, but, I really wanted to post this and she has enough work without me adding to it! So! I'm posting this without a beta, so beware! Usually, I don't do anything without her because she's so great!
For now, this is only a one shot, because I have two stories, well, three going already. Almost two, since one only has one chapter left. But, if you guys desperately want me to continue, I might be willing to write a short one, maybe like 5 chapters or so. Let me know in a review!
It's dark in her apartment. So dark. And she's scared to move. And she hates herself because she's scared. She's a coward. Even still, she sits motionless on her couch, too afraid to get up and turn a lamp on. Even though that would make her feel only a little better. It's what she might find if she does turn that lamp on that keeps her in her spot.
She hugs her knees and rests her chin on them, while squeezing her eyes shut. They still hurt, her eyes. But they've gotten much better. The bright lights of a car driving past shines in through he front window, and she jumps, burying her face into her knees until it's gone. Now, it's just the moonlight peaking in, illuminating her emaciated frame.
Sleep has been a thing of the past lately. Every night she tries to go to bed, she finds her self tossing, turning, and torturing herself. Because no matter how many times she has checked, she just knows there's someone hiding in her closet. And she hates herself for being so weak.
Confiding in anyone about her feelings has not even been an option for her. Because none of her friends care. They've made that very evident as of lately. And her one friend, her best friend, the one she should be able to depend on no matter what, left her. She moved out, and left her alone in this big, cold house. And she hates her for it. Because she has always been second best when it came to him.
The wind blows, and a tree branch from outside taps against the window. And for a moment, she holds her breath, waiting for someone to attack her. But then she remembers that it's only a tree branch, because she's been through this before, and had attempted to rip the limb from the tree, only to harm herself more with cuts on her hands.
It's the middle of the night, and she's counting down the hours until the sun starts to shine again. And she knows the exact time; because this isn't the first night she's sat up, waiting for it to shine.
She wonders when things had turned so sour for her. Because not too long ago, she felt like she had everything. There was a cooing baby in her house, a best friend, a pretend surrogate father for the baby, two really good friends, and the best godson she could ever ask for. Now, there's no one. The baby's gone, and so is the pretend surrogate father. The best friend left for the pretend surrogate father, and her two good friends are too busy to notice her. Too busy to notice that there is a handprint on her arm, a print that if noticed would tell someone she didn't fall down the stairs. And the only one who has stepped in to take their place is an ex pill popping, gun toting, crazy person.
She can't cry anymore. She doesn't know why, but tears will not fall from her eyes, no matter how hard she squeezes them. Maybe because she's too ashamed of herself to cry anymore. Maybe because she just doesn't care anymore. Maybe because nobody cares about her anymore.
A strand of hair falls into her face, so she tucks it behind her ear, and pulls her knees closer. Because now she's cold. And she's too afraid to go and get a blanket. So she sits, shivering, counting down the minutes until the sun comes up and warms her.
Then, there is soft tapping on her front door, and she freezes. Her muscles tense, and she closes her eyes, hoping whoever is there will just go away. But, she's sure they won't because it's so late. Too late for anyone to be visiting. What did they want from her?
The tapping grows louder, but she doesn't budge, or open her eyes. She would pray they would go away, but she no longer believes in God. Because, what's the point?
"Brooke," is heard faintly through the door, and she faintly relaxes. She slightly recognizes the voice, but she's not too sure. "Brooke, come on. Open the door." It's a muffled voice, but she knows who it is now. How could she ever forget that voice?
She lets her feet fall to the floor, and winces as she pulls her body to a stand. It's all still sore form the attack. But no one seems to notice that she's still in pain. Not that she even expects that from them.
Her bare feet pad across the hard wood floor, and she's cursing herself for only wearing a tank top and short shorts. She should know better to wear so little clothing when she knew she'd be too afraid to get up and get a blanket.
"What do you want?" She asks after she's swung the door open to find him standing there. His face is dark because there are no lights on, and the only thing that was on was the streetlight.
"I came to check on you," he answers, tentatively taking a step forward.
"I'm fine," she pushes out of her mouth, a lie she's been practicing since it happened.
"I know you're not," he sighs, now bouncing back and forth onto his toes and heels. "It's kind of cold out here, can I at least come in for a minute?"
"I guess," she shrugs, and walks away from the door and back to her spot on the couch. She pulls her knees back into her chest, and stares blankly ahead of her. "It's kind of late for a check up, Lucas."
"I know," he plops down onto the couch next to her, and she finally feels some warmth. And even though she doesn't want to feel it from him, she can't help but be tempted by it. "I'm worried about you, Brooke."
"Don't be." He's never been worried about her before, why is he pretending to be now? Sure, he helped with Angie. But Brooke isn't sure if he did that because he enjoyed it, or because he needed a way to escape how he felt about Lindsey. Or maybe even to get closer to Peyton. Who knows?
"I am."
"Shouldn't you be at home in bed with Peyton?" Her voice is emotionless. There's no pain, or bitterness. There's nothing left in her.
"She's sleeping." His voice is low, almost as though he's afraid to talk to her about Peyton. Like it's a secret.
"So go home and sleep next to her."
"I wanted to see how you were doing."
"I told you I was fine."
"I know you're not, Brooke," he sighs, and rubs his hand over the back of his neck. And back in high school, she thought that was so sexy. Because he would do it every time he was frustrated, or confused, or just being broody. But now, it's just irritating her.
"Go home, Lucas."
"I can't. Not until you've talked to me. I know you're not fine, Brooke. You've changed. Anybody that can rattle off statistics about attacks and deaths while trying to mourn someone isn't right. What is it, Brooke? Do you miss Angie? Is your mom bothering you that much?"
"Yeah, that's it."
"Brooke-" he starts, and sounds annoyed.
"Just go home, Lucas. You're not going to cure me in one night. Does Peyton even know you're here?"
"No, but that doesn't matter-"
"Bye, Lucas." She's frustrating him, because she won't even look at him. Instead, she stares emotionless towards the wall in front of her. She's trying to make it clear he's not going to get through to her tonight.
"I know you didn't fall down the stairs," he says, and this time, she finally looks at him. And luckily the moon is shining in the right spot, so he can see her eyes, and that he's finally found the truth.
"You don't know anything," she snaps, her eyes blazing now.
"I know you can't get a handprint on your arm from stairs."
"Just go home, Lucas," she says another time, and looks back towards the wall. "You haven't cared in the past week, why are you pretending to now?"
"I do care, Brooke. Believe it or not, I care about you a lot."
"You're a few too many days late." And he is. He always has been when it comes to Brooke. "Go back to Peyton, and send her my love."
"Do you mean that?" He's not sure, because there's no emotion in her voice.
"Sure."
"What happened?"
She's getting annoyed. Sure, at least with him there she's not afraid of being attacked, except for maybe by him, but he's trying too hard. She would much rather sit in a terrifying state, than have him sitting next to her, badgering her with questions.
"Nothing."
"Brooke, I'm trying to be your friend here."
"Maybe that's not good enough."
A car drives past, and for a brief moment, her exposed skin is visible. And he cringes at the amount of bruising she has. And he feels sick for not protecting her. Because once, a long time ago, he promised to protect her from all of it. And so far, he hasn't done a very good job of that.
"What do you mean, it's not good enough?" He questions. It should be good enough, shouldn't it? That's what they were, right? She doesn't need him. She never has. She's made that very clear.
"I don't know, Lucas," and she finally shows some emotion. Only it's not what he wants to hear. She's annoyed.
"Can't we turn a light on?"
"What for?"
"To see."
He stands, and turns the lamp next to the couch on. And for the first time, he has a clear view of her for more than a brief moment. And even though she looks worse than she ever has, he can't help but think that she's still the most beautiful woman in the world. And he's not biased, he's decided. Because if he was, he would say that about Peyton.
"Are you cold?" He asks, when he notices her shiver.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Pretend like you care."
"I do care."
"No you don't." She's back to the same monotone voice, and it's driving him crazy. He wants to know where the usual cheery Brooke is. The one that lights up a room when she's in it.
"Yes, I do."
"Go home to Peyton, Lucas."
"Are you mad that she moved in with me?"
"No. I could care less."
Her answer sits in his head for a moment, and then for some reason, he doesn't believe it. She does care. And it's not because Peyton left her, it's because Brooke needs someone. Anyone. And there has been no one, lately. Peyton and he left for Vegas, and when they returned, Peyton moved out, and then Quentin died. No one has paid attention to Brooke, lately. Not even her best friend.
"You do care," he states.
"No, I don't."
"Will you at least look at me, Brooke?"
"What for?"
"Because, Brooke-" he grabs her arm, and she flinches. And his mouth falls open, because he's hurt her. Her face contorts for a brief second as his hand touches her skin, and she pulls away from him. It's the worst feeling he's ever felt before, because even though he didn't mean to, and didn't know it would happen, he physically hurt her.
She's pretending like it didn't happen, and that the wall has something very interesting on it. Even though her arm is burning from his touch, she keeps a straight face, and bites her tongue, hoping the pain will go away soon. And hopefully, he will go away soon, too.
"Brooke," he speaks, just above a whisper. She's on the verge of tears now, because she can hear it in his voice. He is concerned. But, she doesn't want him to be, she can't want him to be. Not with this, it would just be too hard. This is something she needs to get through by herself, without any help, and hopefully with some revenge.
"Please, Lucas," she chokes out, holding back a sob. "Just go."
"I can't," he whispers. He wants to reach out and touch her arm; to comfort her in some way, but he's scared. Scared to hurt her, and to get carried away. Because if he touches her, he's not sure he'll be able to stop.
"You have to."
"Tell me what happened," he begs. He has to know. Why would Brooke hide how she got all bruised up? Unless it was something she felt ashamed of. What if she has been raped? What would he do?
"No-"
"Brooke, please," he places his fingers under her chin, and makes her face him. She keeps her eyes away from his though and focuses on the corner of the room. Her hazel eyes are filled with tears, and the only thing that's keeping them from falling is that she's not blinking. "I know none of us have been here for you recently, but-"
"Yeah, that's surprising," she pulls her chin from his grasp, and goes back to looking at the wall. And he gets frustrated; because for a moment he thought maybe she was about to open up to him. "Why didn't you tell Peyton you were coming here?"
"She was sleeping."
"You snuck out in the middle of the night?"
He sighs, feeling somewhat guilty. When she puts it like that, it sounds so bad. But he really had the best intentions when he did it. He was lying in bed, not able to sleep, thinking about Brooke and how she's been lately, and decided he needed to see her. There's really nothing wrong with it.
"It's not like that."
"Then what's it like, Lucas?"
"I wanted to check on you."
"In the middle of the night?"
"I couldn't sleep."
"Whatever."
"You helped me with Lindsey."
"Great." She's flat again, showing no emotion in her voice.
"I want to help you."
"I don't need help."
"Yes, you do." He needs to see some kind of reaction from her. Some kind of emotion. Because he's afraid of the emotionless Brooke. He needs the Brooke back that wore her heart on her sleeve, and was always excited about something. "Tell me what happened to you."
She doesn't answer, so he pulls her face towards him again. She tries to hide her eyes again, but he puts his hands on both side of her face, and makes her look at him. And the fear he sees staring back at him through hazel eyes, terrifies him. A sad Brooke, he can help, even a devastated one, but a terrified Brooke, he's not sure what to do with. She's always been so brave, and courageous, he's never seen this in her before. Well, once, a very long time ago, but he quickly cured that by forgiving her for sleeping with Chris Keller, and promising himself to her.
He's not sure what to do, so he strokes her cheek. "Let me see," he whispers, and she closes her eyes, and for once, a tear slips down her full face. He helps guide her as she turns away from him, and sits with her back to him. His hand slowly goes for the hem of her shirt, and then delicately slips under her shirt, guiding it up so he can see her back. There's a large purple mark on her back, in the shape of what Lucas guesses is a shoe. And he wants to cry, because whoever could do this to her, had to be very demented.
With one hand he holds up the back of her shirt, and with the other, he uses his index finger to trace the outline of the bruise. She shivers, and her skin turns bumpy. And the only thing he can think to do is kiss it, because as a child his mom would always kiss him where he hurt to make it go away. So that's what he does. He leans forward, and gently presses his lips against the mark.
Brooke feels goose bumps arise when Lucas' finger outlines her bruise, but when his lips press against her back in the gentlest way, she gets tingles. And she wants to make it stop, because it's so wrong. But it's the first thing since the attack that has made her feel better.
"Lucas," she whispers, "you have to stop."
"Shhh," his hot breath dances against her skin. His lips press against her back again, and more tears fall from her eyes. After one more kiss, he pulls her shirt down, and turns her around. He sees the tears, and immediately pulls her into an embrace, careful not to be too tight so he doesn't hurt her. "Tell me what happened."
She hesitates for a moment, but she knows she needs to tell someone. "I was attacked," she speaks into his chest. "At my store. I was closing up, and leaving, and was attacked."
"I'm sorry, Brooke," he whispers into the top of her head. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."
"No one was there, Lucas. No one. I tried yelling for help, but no one came." She can feel pressure being relieved from within her chest as she tells the real story. "I screamed and screamed, but no one came." Her face is soaked, and so is the front of Lucas' shirt, but she feels better.
"Shh, Brooke, it's okay," Lucas soothes her. "It's over now. It won't happen again."
"How do you know?" She cries. "Besides, I know who did it."
"You do?"
"My mother. They got some money, and my designs for the new line. I have to get revenge, Lucas." She's sobbing now, holding desperately onto the front of his shirt.
"Did you call the cops?"
"No," she shakes her head. "I have to deal with this one on my own. She needs to learn."
"Brooke, you should have called the cops."
"Why? So they can just tell me they'll try to find them, but never do. Besides, I know my mom, and she could never have this traced back to her."
Lucas is afraid for Brooke again. Revenge can be an ugly motive. He knows; he went through it after Lindsey left. Of course, his revenge was focused on Peyton.
"Do you know for sure it was her?" He pulls away from her, and wipes the tears from her cheeks.
"Yes," she nods her head. "Who else would want my sketches?"
"What are you going to do, Brooke?"
"I have a gun."
"Whoa, no no no, Brooke. That's a very bad idea."
"You don't know, Lucas. You don't know her like I do. If I don't do something back to her, she's just going to get worse. I have to do something extreme to get her out of my life."
"I can't let you use a gun."
"You're not going to stop me."
"What if something goes wrong? What if you go to jail?"
"I won't."
"How do you know?"
"I just know, Lucas! See, I knew I shouldn't have told you. Just go, Lucas. Leave me alone, and forget I ever said anything."
"No, as your friend, I can't do that. I can not let you ruin your life."
"Then, help me."
"Not to use a gun."
"Then you're not my friend. Now leave, Lucas. I want to be alone."
"Not until you promise not to use the gun."
"Fine. I promise."
"You're lying."
"Prove it."
"Where's it at?"
"Where's what at?"
"The gun."
Lucas stands, ready to search her whole house for the gun, but she pulls him back down. They're having a staring contest now, both not willing to back down. And Lucas heart aches for the brunette sitting before him. She doesn't deserve this. She deserves a mother who would love her no matter what, but instead, she has the second most evil and conniving parent in Tree Hill. Dan being first, of course.
"You're not taking my gun."
"Where is it?" He demands.
"Don't worry about it."
Lucas stands, and goes towards her purse. "Don't Lucas," she warns. He opens her purse and searches through it, and finds the gun.
"Brooke," he shakes his head. He draws in a large breath, and pushes back the tears threatening to fall.
"I need that."
"No, you don't. You have me. I can help you."
"You're going to help me get revenge on my mom?"
"I'll help you with whatever you need help with, Brooke, but you have to promise me you won't use this gun."
"I can't promise anything, Lucas."
He goes forward, towards her, while putting the gun in his pocket. Then, he squats in front of her, and puts his hands on her knees. "You can promise me this, Brooke. Promise me you won't need this gun."
"I can't, Lucas." She looks away from him.
"Brooke," he whispers, and grabs her chin to make her look at him. "I can help you with this."
"No you can't. You don't know her like I do."
He stares at her, into those broken hazel eyes. And for the first time in a long time, he feels something other than just friendship towards her. He's always been attracted to her; he wouldn't be male if he wasn't, but it's something more in that moment. Like he desires her so much, it's almost too much to control.
Brooke is afraid of how he is looking at her right now, because she recognizes that look. It's the same way he used to look at her in high school. Back when he still wanted her. But, he can't want her right now. He's with Peyton. And for some reason, Brooke wants to believe she would never get back at Peyton for what she did to Brooke's relationship with Lucas in high school, but she seems to be losing the battle with her dark side.
Lucas blinks once he realizes he's been staring at her too long, but when he goes to turn away, she grabs his face and presses her lips against his. And at first, he doesn't respond because he's so shocked, but then he does, and he finds himself kissing her back, even though he knows it's wrong.
Brooke keeps telling herself she's kissing Lucas out of revenge. Because the attack has her head messed up, and she wants to retaliate on everyone who has ever done something wrong to her, but she's enjoying pressing her lips against his. Enjoying it a lot more than she should have been for simple revenge. She grabs his shoulders and pulls him closer, and slips her tongue across her lips into his mouth. And his tongue dances with hers, instead of pulling away.
He finds himself placing his hands on the back of her head, and pulling her closer, because he can't get enough of how she tastes. It's so much better than what he remembers. And for a moment, he's cursing himself for choosing Peyton. How could he have ever forgotten how right this felt with Brooke? And then he remembers Peyton, and their wedding, and pulls back, completely out of breath, and at a loss for words.
"What was that?" He finally asks.
She doesn't answer with words; instead she presses her mouth against his again, this time with more force. And this time, he kisses her back for only a moment before he pulls back again.
"Brooke, what are you doing?"
"Shh, Lucas, don't talk." She presses her lips against his briefly. "Just kiss." She pushes him, so he falls back onto the floor and lies on his back. She straddles his hips, and leans down to kiss him again.
"What about Peyton?" He asks against her lips, since he can't pull back anymore.
"Shh," she doesn't answer.
She hears him say her name, but she uses it only to fuel her desire more. Because Peyton deserves this. She deserves it for cheating with Lucas the first time, she deserves it for forcing her way between them the second time, and she deserves it for always abandoning Brooke when she's needed her most.
Lucas wants to stop her, he really does. But he can't. And he's not even sure why he can't. She just feels so good against him. Like her body was made to fit against his perfectly. Like he is a lock, and she is the only key that really fits. It's so wrong that he's letting her kiss him, and he's kissing her back, but it feels so right. And he's missed it so much.
She leans over, and starts sucking on his neck, and her hot breath gives him sensations he hasn't felt in a very long time. "I want you so bad, Lucas," she breathes into his ear. And he's fully turned on by it. And he knows she can feel how hard he is. He doesn't need to say anything for her to know how much he wants her.
Her hands slide up his shirt, and she pulls back so he can take it off. His hands grab the bottom of her shirt, and pull it over her head. Immediately, his hands find her breasts, and squeezes them, remembering how perfect they are. He rolls her nipple between his fingers, and Brooke moans in pleasure.
He can't believe this is happening. Is he really cheating on Peyton? Is this worth destroying any hope he's ever had of marrying Peyton? Brooke bites down on his bottom lip, and pulls it back before releasing it and diving in with her tongue. And then he answers himself. Yes, this is worth it.
His hands roam down her sides, to her butt, and he pulls down on it, into him. He slides one hand between her thighs, and teases her by letting it dance at the inner space right before her pleasure spot.
"Lucas," she moans, "Mmmmm."
Lucas lets his fingers slide up her shorts, and past her underwear. And he can feel how wet she is, and it only makes him want her more. His index finger finds her bud, and he starts to rub on it. And she responds immediately. Her hips start to swivel, and her moans become more persistent.
"Do you like that?" He asks, taking her ear lobe in between his teeth.
"Mmmhmm," she responds.
He starts to rub a little faster, before dipping his fingers into her. And she starts to buck against his fingers, moaning out his name. She's getting really close, he can tell, so he pulls his fingers out.
"Lucas," she complains. He kisses her, but then pushes her off him. He lays her back, and starts kissing her lips, and slowly making his way down. There's bruising all over her chest, so he makes sure to kiss every one on his way down. He pays special attention to her breasts, flicking her nipples with his tongue. He makes his way all the way down, and dives into her, needing to taste her more than ever before. He's flicking her bud with his tongue, and sucking up any juices she's expelling. And her hips are bucking wildly against his face.
"Lucas, Lucas, Lucas, Lucas," she's mumbling over and over. "I'm going to come, I'm going to come. Oh my god, I'm coming." Her back arches as she's overcome with pleasure, and she lets out a scream she can't control. He finishes her off, taking everything in, not being able to get enough of her taste.
She's breathing heavily as she comes back down, and Lucas is still between her legs. So she grabs the sides of his head, and pulls him back up to her. She captures Lucas mouth with her own, and keeps him there while her fingers fumble with the button on his jeans. He wiggles out of them once they're undone, and then discards his boxers as well.
There's a screaming in the back of his head, telling him there's no turning back once he's inside her. But being inside of her is the only thing in the world he wants right now. It's the only thing that matters in that moment.
"Are we going to do this?" He asks. She nods her head. "Do you have protection?" She shakes her head. And suddenly his spirits plummet. He knows Brooke has no diseases, and he knows he doesn't either, but there's always the possibility of pregnancy, and given the circumstances, he's not sure that's a risk he wants to take.
"It's okay, Lucas," she breaths out, grabbing his head and kissing him. "It's okay."
He's not sure what she means, but it makes him feel better. So, he presses himself into her, and is overcome by the feeling of euphoria. Sex is good, it's always good, but with Brooke, it was great.. Better than just good, better than great. Perfect. Euphoric. Excellent. Every word in the dictionary that means awesome, is how Lucas would describe sex with Brooke.
She wraps her legs around his waist, and he pumps into her slowly, taking his time, and remembering what it's like to be inside of her. She wraps her arms around his neck, and he nuzzles his face into her neck. Because he wants to be as close to her as possible.
"Faster, Lucas," she urges, and he does as commanded, and speeds up his pace. "Faster, harder, Lucas." He responds with each of her requests, and it's not long before he's fucking her harder than he ever has. And she's moaning like she never has before, in fact, she's close to screaming. With each thrust, he can feel himself go deeper into her, and her walls clench around him. And it's not long before he can feel himself reaching his peak.
"Brooke," he moans, "Brooke, I'm going to come, baby, do you want me to pull out?"
"No," she answers before she can think about it. Because she already has thought about it. At some point, this turned from being revenge on Peyton, to getting pregnant and having a baby of her own. Deceitful? Maybe. But, Lucas knows what can happen when you have unprotected sex, and he doesn't seem to be so worried about it.
"Okay," he grunts, pressing into her, getting closer. "Are you going to come with me?"
"Mmmhmmm," she feels herself getting close, and she's bucking her hips against his. "Lucas," she screams, and falls over the edge, bringing Lucas with her. He finishes them off, and then rests on Brooke, kissing her all over her face.
"Mmmm," he moans, kissing her lips. "That was great."
"Mmmhmm," Brooke agrees, her eyes shut tight. She feels too good to open her eyes just yet. And to think she started the night out scared out of her mind.
After they've both caught their breath, he pulls out of her, and rolls off her onto his back. He reaches over, and grabs her, so she has to lay with her head on his chest. And for the first time that night, she's enjoying being close to him, without a different motive inside of her head.
They both don't know what to say, because talking might bring them back to reality. Reality where Brooke just fucked her best friend's fiancé, and Lucas just cheated on his soon to be wife. A reality where he has just spilled his sperm into her. A reality where Brooke is broken into a million pieces, and is only just now trying to mend them back together.
"I wish I could stay here all night," Lucas is the first to speak.
"You have to go home to Peyton, Lucas."
"I don't want to."
"You have to."
