Lucas Scott fumbled with his black tie, fustrated

Lucas Scott fumbled with his black tie, frustrated. He tried to loosen the knot before giving up and plopping back onto his bed. Seconds later, Peyton walked in her face worrisome. She sat on the edge of the bed, and began to massage Lucas' feet.

"Funeral was that upsetting huh, hon?"

Lucas didn't reply. Wrapped up in his thoughts, he just furrowed his eyebrows and stared at the ceiling. It was slightly cracking at the top, the line inching close to the walls. He would have to get that fixed soon. After he made wedding arrangements with Peyton, made sure the basketball team was up to par without Q, and checked to see if he still had a job, of course. Why had he been so stupid? Why had he been so caught up in love that he left so spur of the moment that everything fell apart while he was gone? Lucas felt disappointed he wasn't the tragic hero he always thought he was before.

"I could've saved him, you know. If I just had been…here." Lucas stared at the crack in the ceiling with great intensity. "Did you see his mother at the funeral. If I just been here, he would have been at the court with me instead of…" Lucas let his voice trail off.

"Oh, Lucas. I love you, but you could not save him. No one could. These things…they just happen, you know? Kind of like with Brooke. She won't even talk to me. I guess problems with her mother are bigger than I thought. I don't even know how to save her from this. That's Brooke Davis for you." Peyton rambled on, moving her hands away from Lucas' feet and up his legs. Lucas sat up, now concentrating on his door. Brooke Davis. What had happened to her while he was gone? He had no idea she was having problems with her mother.

"Thanks Peyton, for looking after me. I'm just kind of tired, so I'm going to rest a little, alright?"

Peyton looked at Lucas with concern, her eyes large and droopy. She inched towards the door slowly.

"Alright. I guess I'll go see how Haley's music is coming along for a little bit."

"Great. Thanks." Lucas lay back down on the bed, turning his side away from Peyton. He heard the door close. A few moments later, a door opened again. "Look Peyton, I know you mean well. But I am really tied. Honest."

"It's me, man." Lucas opened his eyes and saw that Nathan had entered through the door. "I just Peyton outside and she said you were sleeping, but we need to talk."

Lucas sat up and got off the bed, pulling up his desk chair for Nathan to sit on. Nathan remained standing, his face stoic. Lucas felt perplexed as to what Nathan was thinking about. He kept standing as well.

"Of course. How's Haley taking it? And Jamie? I didn't even talk to him at the funeral. Sorry man, I've been caught up in my own guilt."

"They're handling it as best as they could. But I didn't want to talk about them."

"Oh, you came here to check up on me? Thanks, but I'm fine. Really."

"Lucas, for a writer, you sure have no tact or intuition. I didn't come to check up on you. Actually, before the funeral Haley was worried about Brooke. So I went to her house to check up on her. And uh, she's…she's not that good."

Nathan paused, taking a glance at Lucas to see his reaction. His face was completely unreadable, void of any emotion. So Nathan continued, slowly. "Yeah, all this business about her mom. And her best friend getting married all of a sudden. Angie leaving. And look man, she's lying about falling down the stairs. Something else happened to her, I know it."

"She's lying? Why? Why are you telling me this?" Lucas knew she was lying the moment she had stepped inside Haley and Nathan's house earlier that day. He had seen the bruises on her arms, the red fingerprints marking her porcelain skin. He had felt his insides wrap around with guilt when he saw the black marks around both eyes, and the permanent weary expression she was carrying. But he was too afraid to say anything.

"You know why I'm telling you this Luke. Out of everyone who knows her, you know her better than any of us. She won't open up. She's scared. I know you have a lot on your plate, I get it. But she needs you, Luke. More than anyone." Nathan grabbed Lucas' shoulder tightly and offered a smile before walking out of the infamous door. The door that had been painted red for someone a long, long time ago. Lucas looked at himself in his mirror. His cheeks were sunken in, he had bags under his eyes and his suit looked lived in. But it didn't matter. He grabbed his keys and slammed out of the door that Nathan had just been at.

Brooke had huddled herself into a ball on her sofa. She held a picture of her and Jamie in her hand, cradling the frame back and forth of a much happier time. Her muscles were still all sore from the incident and it hurt her just to even do the littlest things, such as make coffee. So she sipped her orange juice carefully, all alone in her living room without another noise in a ten mile radius. The doorbell rang, and suddenly Brooke spilled a little juice on the ground.

"Great." She muttered, careful as to not let the person on the other side hear her. Last time she had opened the door, it had been Nathan. But it was getting dark now and she was scared it could've been someone else much more dangerous. She hesitated before creeping up to the door and looking out the peephole.

"Brooke, are you there? It's me Lucas." The doorbell rang again. She looked in the peephole, and saw it was indeed Lucas, standing there patiently. She backed away and looked at the side bar mirror. The swelling and bruises on her face were still as huge as ever and she was still wearing the dress from the funeral. She didn't know why she cared all of a sudden about her appearance but she did.

"Brooke, I know you're in there. I saw your car in the driveway. I just want to talk. It's just me, Lucas." No Peyton, Brooke thought. Brooke didn't know why that comforted her, but she felt a little more relaxed. Slowly she opened the door and let Lucas in before quickly shutting it and locking it again. "Hi." Lucas said, slowly, his word drawing out for a full second.

"Hi." Brooke's response was brief. She turned away, embarrassed of her face. She walked away to the living room. "So what's up? Did Peyton forget some boxes or something?"

Lucas winced. Brooke was trying to keep casual and nonchalant, but her voice was shaky and insecure. "No, actually, I came here. To see how you were doing. I didn't get a chance to talk to you earlier today…"

"Lucas, I'm fine." Brooke cut him off. "Really. I was just working on some new designs so I'm just busy."

"Peyton told me you were having trouble with your mom and the business. Is everything okay?" Lucas inched closer towards Brooke, afraid of what would happen if he just confronted her face to face. Brooke just nodded.

"Yeah, I just really have to finish these sketches."

"Nathan told me he came to see you. He's worried about you. We…we all are." Lucas managed to say, trying his hardest not to say himself.

"I can't believe he told you. Another person not to trust." Brooke muttered walking over to the kitchen counter.

"He didn't tell me anything Brooke. He felt like I needed to know something was wrong with you. I'm sorry I didn't realize it earlier. I was so caught up in Quentin, my job, Peyton…" Lucas' voice got caught up in his throat. He cleared his throat as he made his way across the room, before he stood directly behind Brooke. "But it was clear from the moment I saw you that something wasn't right. Look at your arms…" He said, carefully grazing his hand where the heavy fingerprints were on her right arm. Brooke shuddered involuntarily before Lucas gently stroked her arm, up and down. "What happened to you while I was gone, Brooke Davis?"

"Nothing." Brooke replied coldly, brushing Lucas off her. "Does Peyton know you are here? I don't think she would appreciate you being here, Lucas." Lucas grabbed Brooke's shoulders, forcing her to face him. Brooke immediately looked down, avoiding Lucas' face of despair.

"I didn't come here to talk about her Brooke. I came here to see you. What's wrong? Please, just tell me." Brooke looked up at Lucas slowly. Those blue eyes were staring right back at her as if they knew the truth already. Brooke looked back down.

"I was...I was at clothes over bros three nights ago. I was closing up and someone came in and robbed me and assaulted me."

Lucas felt his mouth open in shock and instinctively opened his arms to hug Brooke. But she pulled away.

"Please, don't. It just makes it worse."

"What happened? Did you tell the police? Do you know who did it?" Brooke shook her head again, slowly deciding what the right words to say were to Lucas. She talked slow, her raspy voice straining with every word.

"I didn't tell the police. I don't want to get my company involved. Too much media."

"But do you know who did it? Did they, did they do anything else to you Brooke?" Brooke couldn't answer. She walked over to the sofa, huddling herself into the little ball once more in the middle. Lucas walked over and stood in front of her. "Please, Brooke, let me in."

"It's too hard. It's hard telling you. Out of everyone."

"Why?"

"You know why." Brooke let a tear escape, causing a little pain as it made its way down her rough bruises where her skin used to be so soft. Lucas suppressed an urge to wipe away her tear, and instead sat next to her at the edge of the sofa.

"I know I wasn't here for you Brooke. And I know you're scared. I see it, even though you would never admit it. Not to me, not to anyone. And it's okay to be scared. But I want you to know that I am not leaving your side until you are okay."

"Thank you Lucas." Brooke managed to say, fighting her tears back now.

"Don't you understand Brooke? After all these years, the reason I never could rescue you was because you never let me. Just let me in, Brooke. And I'll rescue you. From the pain, from your insecurities, from your mother, from the grief. From it all. I always wanted to. You just have to let me in this time."

"I don't know if I can. It's all just too much." Brooke finally sobbed, her eyes wet and her body heaving in and out.

"I know. And it never gets easier." Lucas said, fighting back tears of his own. Brooke let out a frustrated cry before getting up and curling into Lucas' lap. She wrapped her legs into a ball around his, her spine hunched as she cried onto his shoulder. She let out all her emotions onto him, as he slowly consoled her, his arms wrapped tightly around her, his face closely nuzzled against hers, whispering soft "sssh's" in her ear. And without another word, Brooke had finally let him in.