A/N - It's been a while, I know. Couldn't get this idea out of my head, and I was depressed enough to write it out tonight. This ignores everything that happened after Lindsay leaves Lucas at the alter. Season six and on did not happen. This takes place five years after Lucas is left at the altar. Everything in italics is a flashback. Reviews are welcomed and highly appreciated. I will reply to all of them.
He's standing before a tipsy sixteen-year-old girl in a very revealing red dress. Unlike everyone else at this party, instead of a plastic cup with keg-pumped beer, she's got an entire bottle of tequila in her hand. She's giggling as she unscrews the cap, twirling around after taking a long swig. The folds of fabric dance around her bare legs and she seems brighter, more vibrant than everyone else around her. They make eye contact briefly, and though they are not friends at this time and although he is not yet part of her world and he only came to this party because Haley was gone for the weekend, some of his friends from the Rivercourt were here, and frankly, he liked bonfires. he cannot help but hold her gaze. She's bright and lively, and she smolders, perfectly smudged eyeliner and all.
She's in a white dress now, no tequila in hand. Haley is not gone for the weekend; his old friends are not here. He has no excuse. This time he's here for her. And maybe for himself too, but only a little.
There's a large crowd surrounding her. She's telling some story about sneaking backstage during a concert, which is winding down and clearly going to end with her taking off with the lead singer for the night. But instead of letting them know what happened when she finally came face to face with the band, she stops right there. Someone asks her to keep going. A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth; the expression in her eyes is playful. She smiles fully before saying, "You've always gotta keep 'em guessing."
Now he's the one who's snuck in where he does not belong. But he's done it because he does not want to keep guessing. He wants answers, even if she's never been a big fan of giving them.
His attention shifts as a pair of new faces enter the mix. A girl, in a black dress and no shoes, takes the bottle out of her friend's hand. "Peyton, relax. I've only had, like, four shots." She responds reaching out for the bottle. Peyton Sawyer passes the bottle behind her to the boy who is holding her hand. She looks tired. Her blonde mess of hair looks more wild than usual, glowing brightly in the moonlight. Her boyfriend, Nathan pulls her away from the crowd wordlessly. They'd done their job, there would be no alcohol poisoning tonight.
He's not sure if there won't be any alcohol poisoning tonight. If he decides to drink, depending on how this day went, there would be no one to take the bottle from his hand. Certainly not Peyton.
She's kissing this boy so fiercely that he finds himself needing to look away. He's not sure why she's become his focus for the night. Maybe because he knew that Peyton had already left with Nathan. Maybe because she'd definitely had more than four shots and was probably the most entertaining person to watch sober, let alone drunk. He didn't have much of a taste for drunk cheerleaders, but he had to admit there was something to be admired about this girl. She kept her composure. She slinked between boys, setting traps and leaving them to snap shut. She smoldered more than should be allowed of a girl so young. He glances back in her direction to see that she'd broken free of the boy she'd been kissing. He was now leading her further down the beach, away from the party. An alarm practically sounds off in his head.
An alarm is going off all right. This is wrong. This is so, so inappropriate of him. But she's seen him and he can't just leave. It's taken him forever to work up to this moment.
He's rushing down the beach, kicking up sand trying to catch up to them. He's about to yell her name when he sees her start walking away from the boy. She's not heading back for the party but heading for the water. She stands there, toes just close enough to the edge to be lightly lapped by the water. "I'm not fucking you on this beach. And before you say it, I know who I am and I know all the stories you've heard. They're tame compared to what actually happens to me. I'm not having sex with you. Leave." Her speech is only a little slurred. Her companion is so stunned that he simply turns around and starts to walk away. He stops when he sees that they have been followed.
She'd always been the brave one. She was bold and resilient and everything beautiful about humanity. She'd grown into such a lovely woman. But as she turns around and locks eyes with him he can't help but search desperately for the wild look in her eyes. He tries so hard to find the vibrancy. But she stands in white, not in red, and she's muted instead of vibrant. There is no fire here.
"Good luck, pal. The only thing worse than a slut is a tease. Somehow this chick is both." The guy leaves his crappy words of advice and takes off back towards the party. She barely glances at either of them. She takes a step further into the water. "Are you going to take a crack at me now?" She asks daringly. He moves to stand beside her, feet in the jarringly cold water. "No. I thought he was going to take advantage of you." He feels silly saying this after watching the way she'd handled herself. She laughs and it sounds so cynical that it makes him sad for this girl he does not know at all. "No one takes advantage of me."
"I wasn't going to come. I told Haley not to tell me what day this would be, but then I called Nathan and had him tell me anyway." He can't help thinking that this is a stupid way to start the conversation but it is too late to take the words back.
"When Haley told me you'd said you couldn't make it, I'm not going to lie, I was a little hurt considering I was there when it was you." There is no 'I'm still glad you came,' or 'But at least you're here now.'
"I woke up and decided to go for a run and before I knew it I was here. I couldn't not be here."
And just like that her resolve crumbles and the tears start to spill. "You don't get to disappear for five years and come back pretending to be my friend. Friends don't do that. I tried everything. I called, I emailed, I wrote you for god's sake!"
Of course she was standing up for herself. He wouldn't know until later that it simply wasn't in her nature to back down. Passion coursed through her veins. She would never let anyone take advantage of her. Not for a little while, anyway. Not until a certain boy makes his way onto her radar after joining the basketball team. Not that either of them had any idea that they would ever speak to each other again after this night. "You got lucky, you know. If he'd wanted to take advantage of you, he would have. Have you seen the size of you?" He can't help but point it out. Just because this guy wasn't looking to get what he wanted by force, didn't mean she'd be as lucky every time. She turns to look at him properly for the first time that night. "You've been watching me all night. So, what do you think? Do you really think that I haven't already had to learn that on my own? I can take care of myself."
She'd always been perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Sure, she was the cause of her own destruction most of the time but she knew how to pick herself back up. Brooke Davis never needed saving. No, she was the one who did the saving. But there was no one to save either of them from this conversation.
"Brooke, after Lindsay left me at the altar I panicked. I left. I was angry, I didn't want to be here—"
"You could have called. You have done anything. You didn't have to hide, not from me." She reaches up to wipe away the tears that are still streaming and smudges her eyeliner in the process. Her lipstick is smeared from when she'd pursed her lips together tightly at the initial sight of him walking into the room.
"You would have been too kind, too understanding. All I wanted was to be left alone so I could be angry. I'm not saying it was the right way to handle things, but I couldn't help how I felt—" He has more to say but she cuts him off again.
"Damn it, Lucas, none of it matters right now. I know everyone cries on their wedding day but this isn't exactly how I'd pictured it." She pauses to take a deep breath. When she looks back up at him she has regained her composure. "I'm sorry I snapped at you."
"I'm sorry I snapped at you." She says. She looks at him for the second time that night, this time officially registering that she was standing beside a stranger. "What's your name again?" She asks. He chuckles, reminded of just how much their social circles did not touch. She does not know him but he sure as hell knows who she is. He thinks about the things he's seen tonight and rethinks this. He might not know who she is after all. "I'm Lucas Scott." His last name sits bitterly on his tongue, even after having it for sixteen years. "Well, Lucas Scott, after this weekend it'll be the start of junior year. I probably will not remember very much from this night but you seem pretty sober so maybe you'll remember this. Make it a good year. Keep trying to save girls, but stick to the ones who actually need saving."
"It's okay. I deserve a lot worse." He opens his arms and she falls into them gratefully. It is the saddest hug he has ever had in his life. "You're getting married today, Brooke." He whispers into her ear. He feels her stiffen in his arms.
"Yeah, I am." She sounds surprised, but sure. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her waist, her head tucked into the crook of his neck. He has one hand placed lately on the back of her head and the other on the small of her back. It all feels familiar and nostalgia envelopes them both.
One year later they are at another end-of-summer beach party. A lot has changed since he came upon her in her tempting red dress and tequila-glazed eyes. He found a girl who needed quite a bit of saving and broke Brooke's heart over her. But like she'd told him that night, she knew how to take care of herself. She's got a towel wrapped around her, standing alone for the first time all night. He walks over and stands beside her, toes in the cold water again. "You know I remember last year's party." She says.
"Lindsay really thought you loved Peyton, huh?" she whispers after they are quiet for a few moments.
"Yeah, she really did." He says. So did you, is what he wants to add but he bites his tongue. Now is not the time to rehash high school tragedies. Maybe that's all the two of them would ever be, a high school tragedy. Maybe that would turn out to be his life-long tragedy.
"It's hard to compete with. Sometimes people realize they can't keep fighting in a war they're going to wind up losing." She says, breaking their embrace. Her eyes are shining with fresh tears, about to spill over.
"Oh really?" He's shocked. She's never brought up the party from a year ago, not once. She nods her head, biting down on her bottom lip. "It's hazy. But it was the reason I wound up naked in your backseat a month later. I didn't go after you because you were newly popular. I went after you because you already meant something to me."
"It was never a competition." He says tightly.
"I know." She says, smiling sadly. A few tears escape but she doesn't bother to wipe them away.
He knows that she's thinking that no one was ever competition for Peyton but he doesn't have the heart to tell her that she's wrong. He can't do that, not today. And then it hits him that he can't do that ever because after today she would be married and it would never be his place to tell her the truth.
"So, what you're saying is that you already knew I was the guy for you." He's only teasing her because he wants nothing more than to fix his mistakes and get her back. She laughs and it sounds so happy and carefree that he doesn't even bother to press her for an actual answer. Instead, he reaches over and holds her hand. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye. "I'll allow it." She says.
"Luke, even if you're not in love with Peyton, even if you haven't been since you were eighteen, just know that it's okay. Because you will be in love again someday. And it'll be wonderful, and beautiful, and so spectacular that it'll blow the rest of us silly ex-girlfriends out of the water. And you'll love this girl and she'll make you happy if you let her. And this time you'll tell me all about it along the way, okay?" She's really crying now and he doesn't have the heart to disagree with her. If she's going to stand there and cry like that he's going to agree with whatever she says. He knows that there is nothing more captivating than Brooke Davis showing you her heart and he did not dare ruin what might be the last time she shows it to him.
She's wonderful, and beautiful, and so spectacular that it blows his mind that she even really exists. She sets his heart blazing and his mind racing and he doesn't care that she wants to do non-exclusive dating. Because now the party was over and it was he that she was bringing home and it was he who was allowed to wrap his arms around her as they went to bed and it was he who was allowed to love her in a way no one else was.
He watches her walk down the aisle. She is not walking toward him, but away from him, toward someone else. This time, he loves her in a way that he is no longer allowed to.