Title: Broken Promises & Past Mistakes
Author: Summer
Rating: T
Pairing: Brooke/Lucas
Summary: A college basketball game on Brooke's campus leads Lucas to realizations and a fate he never expected.
Disclaimer: If I had any ownership or influence over this show and its characters, do you really think season 4 would've happened this way?
Note: Usually I'm not the kind of person to request reviews, but in this case they'll help me decide whether to keep this as a one shot or turn it into a continuing story. So if you like it and want me to continue, please review and let me know!


The roar of the crowd is almost deafening, the excitement tantamount. It's an unlikely matchup of the Final Four, and everyone in the southern Californian university gym obviously understands the historical significance of the moment.

Lucas Scott collapses onto the visiting team's bench, his gaze slipping over to the UC cheerleaders, unbidden. He'd been trying to avoid looking all night, but every few minutes he finds his gaze on them, searching for the familiar dark hair and dimples of his old high school girlfriend.

She isn't there. He isn't sure how long ago he'd realized that, probably within the first twenty minutes of the game, but it hasn't stopped him from looking. Even though he knows it's illogical, he keeps searching the squad for Brooke Davis' smile, that exuberant energy unparalleled by anyone he'd ever met.

It doesn't make sense to him. Throughout high school, cheerleading had been her life, and he can't imagine that changing so quickly. At least he thought it had been her life.

He frowns, threading his fingers together and staring down at his knees as he considers. How well does he know Brooke Davis? How well had he ever known her, really? He likes to think he knew her like the back of his hand, that there isn't anything he didn't know about her.

It makes him feel better about what happened, makes him able to deal with it.


There was a soft knock on his door, and he could almost sense the hesitancy behind it. He turned to look, expecting Peyton. They'd broken up earlier that day and he had felt her devastation, but there was nothing he could do about it.

He couldn't keep living a lie, couldn't keep pretending everything was okay. He understood what Brooke had meant all those months ago, now, when she'd told him she felt like she'd only stayed in their relationship to make him happy and hurt less.

He'd been doing that with Peyton, all along. It had just taken him far too long to realize it. "Come in," he called after another minute had passed when the door didn't open on its own, trying to figure out what he'd say to her.

The door slipped open slowly, creaking a little on its hinges. "Hi," was all she said.

Unable to form words, he just stared at her for a long minute. "H- hi," he stuttered as his gaze swept over her body. He hadn't expected Brooke to show up at his door, not after everything they'd been through.

She forced a small smile that didn't reach the corner of her lips and held her hand up in a wave-like gesture. "Um, I just figured I'd come say goodbye. I'm leaving tomorrow."

His gaze searched her face for any signs of a deeper meaning, for any signs of hope for them. It was strange how much you could grow up in just a few months. He remembered agreeing with her as she'd said their love wasn't like the one Whitey had described, feeling confused in that moment and not having the words to express his doubts.

Now he knew. "Hey, Brooke?" he spoke softly, knowing the words wouldn't change anything but aware he had to let her know, anyway. "No two loves are the same."

Her smile was more genuine this time, but he could sense the sadness behind it. "I know." She glanced down at the ground, gulping. "Anyway, I just wanted to come say goodbye and wish you luck in school. And- and a good life."

There was more finality in those words than he knew how to address. It hadn't occurred to him that this could truly be it, that he'd never see her again. "I want you to have a good life, too, Brooke Davis," he managed, gesturing for her to come closer.

He could sense the hesitation in her steps, could tell she didn't really want to be this close to him. "I have something for you," she said after a minute, sitting down on the edge of his bed and giving him one of her quirky smiles that he knew he'd always associate with her. No one else smiled the way Brooke Davis did.

Nodding slightly, he glanced at the calendar on his desk out of the corner of his eye. "August 2nd? I thought only I was leaving at the beginning of August."

She shrugged, pulling a small manila folder out from under her coat and handing it to him gingerly. "UC Irvine wants all their cheerleaders in tip top shape and to know the cheers by the time classes start, so…"

He didn't reply, not having any words to do so. Why was it always with her, when he was desperate to find the words, that he never could? Taking the envelope from her in silence, he unhooked the clasp holding it closed and pulled its contents out one by one.

"Oh, Brooke, you shouldn't- these are for you." He tried to push the letters back into her hands but she shook her head.

"I don't exactly have a use for them, Luke, and you're the one who admires good writing so much. It just… it makes sense this way."

He sighed, reaching down and pulling the box of letters she'd written for him out from under his bed without thinking about it, adding the ones he'd written to it.

When he glanced back up at her, her eyes were glistening. "I didn't think you'd kept them," she murmured, searching his gaze. "So, uh, you really are a packrat, huh?" she tried to joke, but it fell flat.

Just shrugging, he studied her face, not taking his eyes off her as he reached into the drawer he kept the box with his heart medicine in, fumbling around in it until his fingers came in contact with something soft.

"I guess you could say that," he admitted with a shrug, grabbing the feather gently and holding it out in front of her so she could see it.

"Is that from my-" She broke off, finishing her question with her eyes as they searched his.

Confirming her suspicions with a small nod, he gave her a sad smile, reaching up and tucking the feather behind her ear.

Her gaze was electric as she stared into his eyes, leaning forward and pulling him into a hug. "I love you, Lucas Scott," she murmured as she kissed him on his cheek.

He nodded, finishing the sentiment they shared in his head. 'And I probably always will.'


He's torn from the memory as he feels someone's gaze burning into the back of his head and he doesn't need to turn around to know who it is.

"Brooke," he whispers quietly, glancing down the bench to see if anyone's paying attention to him before he excuses himself with some vague remark about needing a drink. It doesn't really occur to him that he left his almost full water bottle behind on the bench.

As soon as he breaks free of the crowd in the gym, he can see the back of her head, walking away as quickly as she can manage through the throngs of people listening in at the door and in the parking lot.

"Brooke!" he calls out, even though he's well aware that it was him she was running from. It's too late to go back, to erase what happened in high school.

It doesn't mean he doesn't want to try.

"BROOKE!" he shouts again, this time loud and frantic enough to turn a few heads. He searches around frantically, unable to see her anymore. He's lost her too many times in the past, and they've never had any closure.

He thinks at the very least, they deserve that. "Brooke!"

Then there's a girl standing next to him, her hair so dark it's almost blue. It's pulled back in pig tails and curled at the ends, blue and gold ribbons holding it back. Her blue and gold uniform identifies her as an Irvine cheerleader, and before he has a chance to ask her about Brooke she speaks up. "So… Lucas, right?" she asks dryly, hands on her hips.

He stares at her for a minute, too surprised she knows who he is to form words.

With a roll of her eyes, she explains, "Doesn't take a genius to realize that a guy from North Carolina shouting for Brooke Davis in the middle of a game could only be him. Lucas."

He just shakes his head, more concerned with finding Brooke than listening to this girl tell him how smart she is. "Do you know where she is?"

She studies him for a minute, her eyes narrowed to little slits and it's clear that Brooke's at least told this girl some of their background. "Yeah," she says after a long minute, "But you can't tell her it's me who helped track you down."

"I don't even know your name," Lucas points out quickly, bouncing from one heel to the other in anticipation. "So? Where is she?"

The girl purses her lips and gestures beyond the parking lot. "If I had to guess, over there. If not… her dorm's the first one on the left, room number 283."

He doesn't bother to thank her, instead rushing off in the direction she'd gestured in. He can barely make out a small field with benches, but he's running toward it regardless.

"Brooke!" he shouts as he reaches it, glancing around wildly as he looks for her. His gaze falls on her figure and he freezes where he stands, suddenly not having a clue how to approach her.


She pulled out of their hug slowly, a smile playing on the corner of her lips. "So maybe I will miss you after all," she joked, but he could tell her heart wasn't in it.

"I know I'll miss you… Pretty Girl," he responded honestly, running his fingers through her hair as he adjusted the feather to make sure it won't fall out.

She gulped, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief instant as she let herself get lost in his touch. "Yeah…"

There's something too final about this moment, something he can't handle. "So… I'll be seeing you?" he asked as she opened her eyes, his gaze searching hers. It was something he'd said to Peyton once upon a time, yet another mistake he'd made with Brooke.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded, starting to stand up. "Yeah… I guess so."

Impulsively, he reached out, laying his hand over her wrist. "I'm serious," he murmured, his eyes almost desperate as he looked at her. "I know I put you through a lot, Brooke, and I know I don't deserve you as a friend, but-"

His words were cut off as she pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss. It only lasted a second or two, but it was enough to shock both of them.

"Lucas-" she started, and her voice sounded almost whiny with confusion.

He just nodded in response, letting his hand fall from her hair to her cheek, guiding her face back to his in another kiss.

It was too soon to say goodbye, especially if there was a chance it would be forever. "I love you, and I probably always will," he voiced aloud this time, repeating the words she'd said to him months earlier.

She didn't respond, not immediately returning the kiss, but it was clear he'd affected her all the same since he could feel the fat, hot tear slipping down her cheek.

Or at least he thought it was her cheek, but now he wasn't so sure. He pulled away slightly, and sure enough, they were both crying. "Brooke-" he spoke softly, not having the words to follow her name. He never did have the words with her when he needed them, after all.

She whimpered, pressing her lips against his again, this kiss desperate and intense where the other had been soft and chaste.

He sighed, wrapping his arm around the small of her back and pulling her closer, not wanting the kiss to end.

When she finally pulled away, it was only to catch her breath, though, and then her lips were against his again. Their lips worked together fervently, their hands moving over each other's bodies in an attempt to burn the details into their minds.

And when he pushed her back against the bed and started to unbutton her shirt, it wasn't a moan of protest he heard.


"I'm sorry," he speaks quietly as he approaches her, not having any other words. It's like he's back in high school all over again, reliving their breakup a year earlier. And it's almost exactly a year, only a few days more.

Brooke turns slowly, giving him a full view of her body, of her swollen belly, and smiles sadly. "I know."

Lucas gulps, not sure what to say or how to act. This certainly wasn't what he was expecting to find when he caught up with her. Then again, he isn't sure what he was expecting, if it was anything at all.

She solves his problem, though, shrugging weakly. "You don't have to say anything." She rests a hand against her belly, searching his gaze.

"How-" His words break off as he tries to find the right way to ask. "Was it… us? Was it last August?"

She cocks her head to the side, studying him. "It was me," she responds vaguely, glancing over his shoulder. "And a sperm donor."

He winces at the words because he's pretty sure he's that sperm donor, and suddenly it all makes sense. She never had returned his calls, even though she had promised she would when they awoke the next morning. "Brooke…" His voice is apologetic, but he still can't find the words.

She lets out a dry laugh, studying him. "Lucas… we never can get past this part of the conversation, can we?"

He just shrugs, knowing she's right. But he doesn't think there are words for this scenario, a way to make it all better or to even make it right. "If I'd known…"

"That's why I didn't tell you, Luke," she cuts him off, giving him a weak shrug. "It's a never ending circle with us, and pulling you back in is sure to end badly. You have this complex where you feel like you have to save people, and I don't need saving, Luke. I'm managing. I'm happy. I'm-"

"Pregnant with my child," he interrupts, sighing. Running his hands through his hair, he doesn't have the words. "I don't know what to say, Brooke."

She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head slightly. "You never do, Luke," she points out, turning on her heel and walking away.

Lucas watches her walk away in shock, sitting down on the nearest bench since he feels like his legs are going to give out on him at any minute, and feels the world crashing in around him. And suddenly, he knows the very last thing he needs with Brooke Davis is closure.

He needs a life with her, and he's petrified it's too late to have that.