I have no clue what this is going to turn into. I'm just in a mood, and have a great urge to just write. This is a one shot. The flashbacks are in italics. Please read and review! I really need some encouragement to just keep writing in general.

Xx N

She doesn't lift her gaze from the dark wood that lines the kitchen. She's almost stuck in a comatose state, and thinking is just something her brain won't allow her to do.

When the sun begins to set, and the shadows begin to drift lazily over the cold counter, she closes her eyes. She wants to imagine everything away, and engulf herself withing darkness.

Living hurts too much right now, I mean, it would if she hadn't detached herself from life.

"Brooke." The voice of her red headed room mate causes her to open her eyes momentarily, but she quickly closes them again, hoping that Rachael will just give up and leave her alone.

"Brooke," she repeats again, this time cautiously resting a hand over her shoulder. Rachael knows that the brunette is fragile right now, and the blood over her pale knuckles is only a reminder. Last time she tried to talk sense into her friend, the brunette had slammed her tiny fists into a mirror. So taking a deep breath, she squeezes the shoulder, praying for a response.

"I'm okay," she lies, and Rachael tries her best to not show any pity, because she knows the gesture won't settle well with Brooke.

Rachael knows that she's not okay, and she needs to hear Brooke say that, because this emotionless Brooke is definitely not good on her mental health.

"Brooke, I know how you must feel," and as soon as those words escape her lips, she suddenly regrets them, because Brooke's eyes turn to her and they show the first emotion she's seen in days, and that scares her.

"You know?" she spits almost cynically, the only comparison to her voice is the hiss of a snake, and Rachael takes a step back subconsciously.

Through the anger, Rachael can can see the pain that Brooke is enduring, and she almost wishes she could feel it, but she's already tried to put herself in the brunette's shoes and it just hurts too much.

"You're really something else," Brooke says through a dry laugh, no dimples gracing her pale cheeks.

"Brooke, I know you're angry right now, and you have every right to, but that's no excuse to be a bitch to me," Rachael replies, swallowing up any pride she has.

Brooke only shakes her head, turning around so that she's back to staring at the dark counter. "They don't know what it's like," she mumbles to no one in particular, but her best friend still hears her clearly.

"Brooke, I want to help you but I can't do that if you're not willing to help yourself," Rachael finally says after minutes of silence. Through her grief and anger, Brooke notes how her slutty best friend is speaking with wisdom and concern, and she tells herself that maybe when she's better she'll thank Rachael for it, but she doesn't think she will. After all, she reasons, it's not really fitting to their friendship.

"I never asked for you help though, did I?" Brooke asks, and now she's up from the bar stool, trying to keep her composure as she walks up the stairs and into her shared bedroom, because she knows Rachael will be watching her until the bedroom door shuts.

And when she hears the faint click of the lock, she allows herself to collapse onto her maroon duvet covers.

She tries to hold back the tears at first, but when it quite literally begins to hurts her chest, she allows the sobs to escape.

She grips the covers tightly, paying no attention to the pain in her knuckles. Right now, something inside hurts much more, and she doesn't think that it'll ever go away.

By now the sun has completely set, and the tears have made her drowsy, but she won't fall asleep. She can't, because if she does she'll only have to face the nightmares that have been haunting her for the last two weeks.

"You know, Pretty girl, we'll both fail English if you keep doing that," Lucas says through a smile. Brooke only pouts as she stops tickling him, her fingers picking up the previously discarded pen.

"We're totally pulling a Nathan slash Haley tutor session right now," she states through a furrowed brow, which causes Lucas to chuckle as he shakes his head at her. "No, seriously, Luke!" she whines, gently hitting him with her pen in the hopes that it'll make him stop laughing. "Tutor-boyfriend doesn't have the same effect that tutor-wife does!"

"Okay, fine," Lucas says with mock seriousness, tossing his book onto the floor, and turning back to the brunette.

"Well, now I just feel like the asshole that's gonna make you fail!" Brooke whines in that raspy voice of hers, and he wishes that he could tell her how cute she looks in that moment, but Lucas knows that 'cute' won't settle well with her.

"I'm not gonna fail," he whispers through a smile, snaking his hand around her waist and nuzzling his head into her hair as they sit together on his small bed.

She doesn't say anything right away, because his scent is too much to resist, and his sweet embrace quite literally causes her to melt into him.

Just a few days ago she had been sobbing herself to sleep because she honestly didn't believe she would ever be able to feel Lucas hold her the way he is right now, but then she found herself on his door step with a box of letters and her undying love for him, and all of that changed. So naturally, it was completely acceptable to want to spend time in his arms rather than on that term paper they both had to turn in the next day.

"I missed this," she whispers into his ear, and when he places a gentle kiss against her temple, she wants to tell him that she loves this, but that would imply saying things and confessing feelings she's too scared to verbally admit to him right now, because those feelings still scare her.

She loves Lucas Scott, and she knows that he knows this, and for now, that's enough.

She opens her eyes and squints momentarily, the action making her realize that she must have cried herself to sleep again, because her face feels as if it's coated with a layer of moist salt.

She doesn't have to look at the rarely used alarm clock to know that it's much too early for Brooke Davis to be up, but lately Brooke Davis seems to be a walk contradiction.

She looks over, and she can seen the outline of Rachael's body sleeping on the bed opposite of hers. She watches her for a few moments, wondering what it would be like to be Rachael. How easy it would be. Rachael's a lot like her, only stronger. She plays the same game Brooke once did, but she doesn't get hurt. She doesn't fall in love.

And Brooke finds herself envying that, but then she feels guilty. So she tries to deny that she even thought that, and mentally whispers an apology to him.

She's not sorry that she loves him, she's sorry that she didn't show it.

She gets up from the bed, and silently makes her way downstairs to the kitchen. She's been spending a lot of time there, and she's not really sure why.

She thinks maybe it's because that's the only room in Rachael's house that Lucas never went in, and so nothing in there really reminds her of him, but that can't really be it, because he's still in her thoughts even when she's in there.

She lets her actions linger as her eyes sweep over the room. She's not hungry, nor is she thirsty, so once again she's found questioning herself.

Her body seems to have a mind of it's own, because pretty soon she's in front of the freezer, grabbing a half empty carton of chocolate ice cream.

And then she remembers a time where she did something similar with Haley. Only that time the carton of ice cream was a lot smaller, and so was her pain.

"Brooke?" it's not until she hears the voice of her once nerdy friend, that she realizes that she has a stat-icky cellphone pressed to her ear. "What's wrong?" the voice filters out through the receiver again, and she can hear the worry in it.

"I was just thinking about that time that we pigged out on ice cream," Brooke says through a faint smile, before hearing her friend let out a relieved sigh.

"That seems like a long time ago," Haley replies, and in a way it is a long time ago, because in that short time they both feel like they've lived a hundred years.

"Why did you call, Brooke?" Haley asks when silence envelops the two, and Brooke's brow furrows momentarily because she's not entirely sure why.

"I don't know," she says tiredly, and this time it's Haley's turn to frown.

"I think you do, Brooke, you just don't want to say it," the smaller brunette presses, because it's been two weeks now, and as much as it hurts, everyone has started on a path to healing. That is, everyone but Brooke.

"I just wanted to talk to a friend, Haley," Brooke explains, and Haley can tell what she's trying to do, so before she has a chance to continue, she stops her.

"Brooke, you can keep lying to yourself, but I won't let you keep lying to me," Haley says sharply, and she almost feels bad, but harsh words are the only thing she hasn't tried with Brooke. And right now she's desperate.

"So, since when are you a psychologist?" Brooke asks once the sting of the words has eased some, but her jokes won't work this time.

"Brooke, I know you're hurting because of what happened – we all are – but it's not okay for you to be dealing in it this way. It's just not," Haley whispers soothingly, and Brooke feels like she may cry again.

"But," Brooke begins, but her words fall on deaf ears as Haley continues.

"I mean, I know you and Lucas were really close, him and I were too, but Peyton was his girl friend, can you imagine how she feels? She was your best friend before he came along, and you haven't even stopped by her house once to see how she's dealing with this," Haley's words cut her like a knife, and it's the first stab of pain that cuts deeper into the one she's already feeling.

Not because she feels like Haley's right, because as selfish as it is, she doesn't think anyone is hurting as badly as she is, but because she's once again reminded that she didn't show her feelings to him.

Lucas was Peyton's boyfriend, not hers.

"You're right, Haley," Brooke says in her monotone voice, and Haley wishes she could take back what she says, but she knows she can't. It would be ignorant of her to think that Brooke didn't love Lucas, but she also wasn't ready to admit that she had been rooting for the wrong couple.

She's known for the last two weeks that Peyton and Lucas weren't 'end game', hell, maybe she's known it all along, but that didn't stop her from pushing the two together, and belittling any feelings her promiscuous brunette friend may have had for the blonde.

"I got a B plus!" Brooke squeals, storming into the bedroom of her boyfriend. He's on his laptop, furiously typing away, but her surprise entrance causes him to lose all the interest he had in it. "Lucas, I'm gonna get to graduate!" she squeals yet again, clapping her hands together, which cause the paper between them to wrinkle.

"I told you you'd do amazing," he congratulates with a smile on his face, his eyes bright because it makes him so happy to see her happy.

"It's all thanks to you," she thanks, straddling his lap, as her back is slightly pressed against the desk his laptop rests on.

"No, Brooke, you know you wrote that all by yourself, that was all you," he says seriously, because he desperately wants his girl friend to stop putting herself down, to stop doubting how brilliant she really is.

Because by now he knows that the slutty cheerleader is just a facade that hides the beautiful, brilliant, but vulnerable girl he loves.

"But you changed me, Lucas," she explains seriously. "If it wasn't for you, I don't know where I'd be right now," she continues, her face softening as her eyes lock with his. "You've saved me from myself, Lucas Scott."

She remembers a time where she begged to know why he always saves Peyton, and why he never saves her. But now she realizes that he's been saving her all along, that he saved her long before he ever saved Peyton.

"I love you," he whispers, and it's the first time those three words have been exchanged between the two since they've been together, and she swears that her heart will burst and so will her lungs if she doesn't scream how happy she is in that moment. But she doesn't because after all, she is Brooke Davis, and she's gotta stay collected.

"I love you too," she smiles, and in those dimples alone she shows him how happy she really is, and the action goes much further than any squealing and prancing ever would.

"You're the girl for me, Brooke Davis," he whispers when he's dangerously close to her lips, and all she can do is rub her button nose against his, as she whispers, "just kiss me already."

She's the girl for him, not Peyton. And maybe she's the only person that believes that, but that's okay with her, because she knows she's the only person Lucas ever really loved, and it hurts her that she didn't realize this two weeks sooner.

But irregardless, she finds herself in the steps of Peyton's red brick house. The house that she called home for a large part of her life. The house in which the girl she called a best friend lives. She loves Peyton, but part of her resents her for everything that's happened, so she figures that the title best friend isn't really fitting anymore.

The blonde is hunched over her record collection, and it's not until she turns around that she realizes that Brooke is standing by her bed room door, watching her with an expression that she can't quite read.

"My front door was locked," Peyton says dryly, and Brooke knows that she's asking for an explanation as to how she got inside.

"I've always had an extra key," Brooke says, and before Peyton has a chance to ask her for it, Brooke lays it on the dresser that sits by the door. After all, she won't be needing it where she's headed.

"What do you want?" Peyton asks, turning away from her, so she doesn't have to look into those hazel eyes. Those eyes make her feel dirty.

"I'm moving to California, I'll be living with my parents," Brooke says emotionless, letting her eyes inspect the new décor in Peyton's room. There's a horrible dog painted above her bed, and Brooke knows that it must have to do with the Derek scenario, but she doesn't let herself dwell on it for long. "I just thought you should know."

"I bet it feels good to know you can just runaway from your problems, huh?" Peyton asks, her nazily voice slightly rising, as she shakes her blonde curls back and fourths. "Typical Brooke," she laughs sarcastically, now looking at her once best friend. "Always running away from her problems."

"I didn't come here to fight," Brooke manages to say through a clenched jaw.

"Right," Peyton nods, turning her back to her once more. "Have a great life, and by the way, thanks for wondering how I've been holding up."

"Are you seriously trying to use everything that's happened as a pity card, Peyton?" Brooke almost asks in disbelief, but it doesn't really shock her, because her once friend has always been like that. Self pity, that's what it's called.

"Well, considering he was my boyfriend-"

"Your boyfriend? Your boyfriend?" Brooke shrieks, tears running down her face, while all Peyton can do is stare at her in shock. "He was your boyfriend. That's all he ever was! But you know what, Peyton? He was the love of my fucking life! I loved him! I still do! And you know what, Peyton?" she asks, her tears causing her voice to crack. Peyton can only shake her head dumbly, unable to comprehend what's happening. "You took him away from me. You were a conniving bitch, and you took him away from me and I let you! And now he's never gonna know that I still loved him, he's never gonna know," Brooke sobs, her firm posture not falling apart, as her insides seem to crumble.

"Brooke, I didn't-"

"No, but you did know, Peyton. You did know, so don't say you didn't," she tiredly says through her tears, and for the first time in two weeks she feels like it wasn't numb anymore, like the pain was real and she could accept it.

"I'm sorry, Brooke," are the only words Peyton can say.

Brooke only nods her head, walking towards the door.

"He knows, Brooke," Peyton whispers, and her words cause her to freeze, Brooke's fingers tightly holding onto the door knob. "He knows you love him."

-X-

"Lucas?" she asks, even though she could tell that messy blonde head of hair anywhere. She watched in awe as he turned around, his face filled with a smile that she had missed more than words could explain.

And before she has a chance to express to him how much she's missed him, she begins to cry. She can tell that his eyes are still sparkling, even through her tears, and she can only watch him in pure amazement as he walks towards her.

His arms wrap around her in that familiar way, and it feels as if it's only been hours instead of months, since they've been so close to each other.

"I miss you so much," she whispers, her fingers clutching onto him as if he could be ripped away from her any second, and it scares her because she knows that he could.

"Pretty girl," he sighs, wrapping his arms even more tightly around her body, because even tho he's dead, he can feel the fear and pain inside of her. He wants her to feel secure, and he wants her to be okay. Because he knows how strong Brooke Davis is, and he just wants her to see that too.

"Lucas, they say it was your HCM, why didn't you take your pills?" she sobs, her eyes looking at him accusingly with so much pain.

And he wants to cry, because he wonders that too, but he doesn't. It's not the time.

"Brooke, you have to be strong."

"I can't," she whispers, and in that moment she looks so small and weak, that he wishes he could make it all go away, but he can't. And even though he's dead, that hurts him.

"Yes you can," he whispers. "You need to be strong and live your life. You need to start that fashion line, and get married, and have those kids we talked about."

"But those were our kids," she says, shaking her head, tears streaming down her porcelain face.

"But don't you see Brooke? I'll always be with you, I want you to live your life for the both of us, and I'll wait right here for you. As long as that takes," he promises, watching her chin quiver as she slowly nods her head.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you how much I love you," she says sadly, her hazel eyes watching him intently. Almost as if she's desperately trying to memorize every single feature on his face.

"I can see how much you love me, Pretty Girl," he says, causing her to smile her sad smile. And because he needs her to see how much he loves her, he gently presses his lips to her. And in that moment, Brooke feels something she hasn't felt in a while; happiness.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Lucas," she whispers shakily, swallowing back her tears once they part.

"Whenever you start to miss me, just know that I'm always with you," he tells her, and she nods her head in response, because knowing that makes living life alone a little less scary.

"Wait for me," she tells him, almost as a desperate reminder, because she knows that promise is the only thing holding her together.

"Bye, Brooke," he says in response, and as his blue eyes lock with hers one final time, there's an understanding that everything will be okay, and that one day they'll forever be together.

Review?