Summary: Everything can change in a cruelly short ammount of time. Within one conversation, we went from platonic friends to star-crossed lovers, and now all I can do is hope that some day we won't have a greater obligation to honor than each other. That Brooke can forgive us, that our friends and family won't judge us, and that we forgive our hearts for betraying us. One-shot

Forgiven

Peyton lay huddled in her bed, trying to close herself into an even more compact ball. Maybe if she could just stop the trembling, she could calm herself. Maybe if she could make herself stop for a moment, the world would stop along with her. She didn't have a chance to learn the answer to her predictions; tremors continued to rip through her body, and her breathing came in short, sporadic gasps. It had been two days… and Brooke still hadn't come back. The only person who ever came back for good after leaving wasn't returning this time, and it was all her fault once again.

Tears slipped down her face, and she let them fall carelessly. It was such a waste to be here crying alone, without someone who would let her cry on their shoulder, who would help her make it better. Who did she have, though? Brooke had left her. Lucas would side with Brooke. He didn't love Peyton that way; he'd probably only been confused once upon a time ago when he'd convinced her that they could be together. She'd let him play her, and in return she'd grown to love him in a way that couldn't even be approached by any other boy. Of course, he'd only forgotten about her, at least in that way. And the worst of it was that her best friend had fallen for the same boy, and he'd remembered to love Brooke back. Instead of being able to separate herself from him, letting her heart heal slowly, she'd had to be faced with it day after day. Brooke had come to her time and time again, made her say out loud that Lucas didn't love her that way, never had and never would. It was Brooke that he wanted, Brooke who was in his heart; and the news that was so vital to her only served to rip Peyton apart even more.

She was tired, so tired, and she wondered if she would ever wake up if she were to slip into sleep right now. The day after her mother's funeral, she'd fallen asleep for three days, and her father had taken her to the ER. They'd kept her on observation, and she'd woken up believing it to be the day after the funeral. This time, if she fell asleep for a few days, or even a week or two, there would be no father to rush her to the ER and no Brooke to trot over to her house to make sure that she was okay when she was released. Perhaps the person who she would miss the most was one that hadn't even known her at that point in her life.

She couldn't see through the thick layer of tears shrouding her eyes, and she was vaguely aware that her mascara must be running all over her face. If Brooke were here, she'd cluck her tongue and try to swipe it away with a tissue. Brooke wasn't here, and so she didn't bother making the effort. Without Brooke, it was meaningless. It almost seemed poetic justice that the sandals that she had worn earlier still adorned her feet and the beautiful dress she'd sported was forming permanent creases as it tried to adjust to the unnatural position of her body. Today was the first time that Lucas had ever mentioned her appearance, good or bad, and though it wasn't half of one of the compliments that he tossed out to Brooke on a daily basis, it meant the world to her. Maybe she wasn't his "pretty girl," but for a moment a small, pathetic hope had burned inside of her, that maybe... By now it was long gone.

Faint footsteps sounded in her room, and she didn't even look up. She didn't need to look up to know who it was, and in spite of her best efforts, she couldn't bury her tears. Since she couldn't mask what she was feeling, she simply ignored his presence. "Peyt? What's wrong?" He strode across the room and sat down gently on the edge of her bed, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Words wouldn't form on her tongue, and she knew that nothing that she would say would sound right. Somehow, words came regardless of whether or not they were right.

"Oh, Lucas, I didn't mean to tell her. I thought I was doing the right thing. I really thought… I ruined everything, and I'm so, so sorry. Please don't be mad. You don't have to talk to me anymore, and you can blame me, but please don't be mad," she begged, her mouth coming up and covering her mouth, trying to hide the whimpers forcing their way through.

"Peyton, what are you talking about? Please, Peyt, talk to me. Is this about me telling Brooke about the kiss? She understands, and she'll come around. I know that she will." She laughed, absentmindedly noting the bitterness in it.

"No, she won't. Not after what I told her… I've made a mess of everything, such a mess." She shivered for possibly the fiftieth time since he'd walked into the room, and he crossed the room, grabbing the blanket sitting on top of her trunk and spreading it across her. He kneeled down on the floor, trying to look into her eyes.

"Peyton, whatever you've done, we can talk to Brooke. It'll be okay, I promise you. We'll fix it together."

"Lucas, we can't fix it. I told her something that she's never going to forgive me for. Don't you understand? Every time that she looks at me, all that she'll see is my betrayal." Lucas's jaw set, and he looked at her with reassurance in his eyes.

"Peyton, we'll talk to her together, and you can tell her what you told me in the library that night, okay? You were worried that we wouldn't make it out of there, and I was taking care of you, so you just…" She shook her head until he stopped, opening her mouth to say something but never quite finding anythign. He looked at her, still not understanding for one terrible moment. Comprehension started to creep into his face, and he shook his head.

"No, you don't… you don't mean… Peyton, please tell me that I'm wrong, that I'm making a stupid, stupid mistake." She didn't answer for a moment, and when she did her voice was trembling.

"Lucas, I'm so sorry. I don't know why I told her. I didn't want to make the same mistakes, and instead I made new ones, and I'm so… so sorry. Please don't be angry. Please just leave and talk to Brooke and…" He shook his head, standing up and pacing back and forth across the room before turning to her.

"How long have you felt this way?"

"Lucas…" she pleaded, hoping that he would spare her at least that humiliation. He didn't.

"No, tell me. I need to know. I can't even think straight, but I need to know how long." She sighed, raking a hand through her hair before sitting up, curling her knees to her chest.

"I'm not sure. At least before summer ended. I went to visit Jake last week, and that was the first time that someone made me admit it… no one else even knew. Or maybe they just didn't want to know."

"So that whole time that I was telling you about Brooke and I, that whole time that you were trying to help us get together, you had these... feelings? You liked me then?" She bit her lip, trying unsuccessfully to hold back a fresh wave of tears.

"No, Lucas. I… I loved you then. I knew that it wouldn't make any difference. You said it yourself; you're in love with Brooke. She's… the one. And I'm just a girl that you used to have confused feelings for, who happens to be a good friend of yours." Lucas's jaw tensed and he looked at her, some unknown feeling flooding his eyes and lighting them on fire.

"You owed it to me to tell me this. How could you, Peyton? We could have worked through this together." He was angry, but she didn't miss the desperate undertones in his voice.

"Like last time?" she half-laughed, half sobbed. He moved towards her on instinct, taking her in his arms.

"Peyton, don't cry. Come here, just… don't cry. We don't have to fight; not now, when you're like this." She didn't bother fighting him, instead holding onto him for all she was worth. Her tears soaked his shirt which was crumpled slightly, instead of crisp as it had been earlier at the wedding. He held onto her just as tightly, turning to kiss her ear slightly. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay. It's going to be…" She sighed slightly, not bothering to argue with him. After what seemed like hours, when her body had finally calmed and she'd regained some of her composure, she turned to face him.

"You should go now." Her voice was flat, and it still carried a trace of the tears that would come after he left.

"No, I'm not going to leave you like this."

"You have to, Lucas. You're in love with Brooke, and if you stay here with me, things between the two of you might never be the same. She's never going to forgive me for telling her, and she's never going to forgive you for forgiving me. Just go and be with her and let me deal with this. I can't make her forgive me, and I don't deserve it."

"Do you really think that I care what Brooke's going to do when you're in this state? You're a mess, and you have every right to be. I left you earlier before I knew how serious things were. I came here to apologize, and I'm not going anywhere until we decide what we do now." She collapsed onto the floor, leaning against her bed. Lucas joined her, studying his folded hands.

"Is there anything that we can do? Is there even a question? You're in love with Brooke, so you go, you be with her, and I try to make it up to her. I try to… to bury this, and I hope that it's enough for our friendship… and for the two of us, too." Lucas looked over at her, questions better left unspoken written on his face.

"There's always going to be a 'two of us', isn't there? There's always going to be those feelings, and there's always going to be at least one of us that just friendship isn't enough for." Peyton shook her head frantically, crying even harder.

"No, Lucas, no. Look, this is just a mistake, an indiscretion… it's enough for me if all that we can ever be is friends. I can make it work, I know that I can. I can bury it." He reached out and cradled her chin with one hand, and she leaned into it, letting him wipe away the wetness under her eyes gently with his thumb.

"Peyton, it's never going to be enough; if it's enough for me, it won't be for you, and if it's enough for you… than I won't be able to just be your friend. Even now, hearing this changes everything, even though it shouldn't." He looked down, ashamed of his admission.

"Lucas," she whispered, turning her face away, "I can't be a second choice. I love you so, so much… but I'm not where you're heart is, and I can't be with you knowing that." She tried to stand up, but he took a hold of her arm.

"Peyton," he said carefully, "how many times have you seen me smile with Brooke, or even laugh? I can't… Peyton, you're my best friend, and I love you, and I try to make that enough, but every time that this comes up, it's not enough for me. Having you sit here and tell me these things…" he trailed off, looking up at her, his eyes holding the same vulnerable hope that her own had held earlier that day.

"You should go," she whispered again, all conviction drained from her voice.

"Don't make me go. You're the only one that I can talk to, really talk to, and you make me smile and laugh and every time that there's something wrong with you whether you're angry or sad or scared, I can't breathe until it's taken care of. The day of the shooting, I didn't tell you that I loved you back, and I would give anything to go back to that day and change that, but I can't. Let me say it now, Peyton, and let me mean it." He rose, and she buried her face in his chest, trying to find the strength to let go. She knew that she would have to in a moment, and that she would have to look at the liquid filling his eyes and know that she was responsible for it. She scrambled for something, anything to say to convince them both that it wasn't true, that they weren't true.

"What about Brooke? Lucas, you're saying these things now, but eventually you're going to realize…"

"Peyton, can't you understand? I keep on trying to make it work with Brooke, and it doesn't. I kept on thinking that I was doing something wrong, but the truth is Brooke and I couldn't do anything differently. Even when there's nothing keeping me from loving her, I can't make myself, not the way that I do with you. Just let me stay here, and let me love you and we'll figure something out, and we'll figure out what to do about Brooke and Nathan and Haley and everyone."

"Lucas, don't you understand? Even when we're not in the way of us, everyone else is. Can you really bear to lose Haley's respect over this? Can you be that guy, Luke? Because I've become that girl in the past few days, and it's killing me. You're above this, above me and us like it would be right now. You're the best man that I know, and that's one of the things that makes me love you." Her face was crumpling in, and he held it in his hands, touching his forehead to hers. He swallowed silently, hardly able to force what needed to be said out.

"You realize that if we aren't together now, that we may never get our chance?"

"Yes…" Her voice was tiny, childlike, and he knew in that moment that if he was to lean down and kiss her in an attempt to make it better, she would let him. It would be right, so right, and so incredibly selfish. The thing that seemed wrong, giving her up, would cause them both so much pain. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't good, but it was right, and he knew it. His hands dropped slowly to his sides and he stepped back.

"I hope that we do get our chance."

"Lucas, maybe…" Her eyes, rimmed in red, asked him for the second chance to take the easy way out, and he knew that in spite of everything, if he let himself stay, they would still end up hurting everyone.

"If we don't, though, you should know that every time that I changed for the better, it was because of you. I wouldn't be half the person that I am if it wasn't for you, and I… I don't know how I'm going to still be that person without you. I just… I've gotta try." She looked at him, and he was struck with how ironic it was. It was always the two of them giving everything up. The only difference between this year and last year was that last year it had been for Brooke, and now in a strange, bittersweet way, it was for them.

"It's always going to be there, isn't it? You and me…" she replied, smiling a little. He could hardly hold himself together at the memory, and he wished with all of his being that he could go back to that point in time, knowing what he knew now, and change the outcome of everything. If only…

"I'll be seeing you, Peyton," he managed, and he walked out of the room. He heard her drop onto her bed, and the power it took him to walk away from her made him lose his control over crying. Tears flowed unchecked down his face as he walked away from her, hoping like nothing else that some day he would walk back.

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Brooke turned to look at him, her eyes smoldering with rage. "You know, you said that you wouldn't hurt me this time, and I don't even know why I believed you, considering that you prove yourself to be a liar time and again." Lucas couldn't look her in the eye, and with amusement he noted that maybe that was why this would never work.

"Brooke, you and I both know that something isn't right. We've known for awhile. This has nothing to do with…" he faltered, looking down. Brooke might've been many things, but she wasn't stupid. Whether she admitted it or not, the truth broke her heart.

"I can't believe that you still love her, after all of this time. You know what? You two deserve each other," she spat, storming out. He turned off the light, sitting in the dark. Thinking. Feeling. Wanting. Hoping. Hating the pain.

Across town, Peyton slowly unzipped her dress, slipping out of it and dressing for bed. She turned on a CD, keeping the light on as she curled up in bed, wishing that she could stop crying. The tears never seemed to end for them, but she lost herself in the music, turning so that she faced the ceiling, wanting nothing more to cross the distance between them. A smile touched her lips as she realized that if they ever did get their chance, there wouldn't be any distance large enough that they couldn't close it. They simply understood each other, and they didn't even have to say it. He forgave her for needing him too soon, and she forgave him for needing her too late. Maybe that in itself was enough.