disclaimer: we do not own any rights to One Tree Hill and this is all for fun, but if we did the show would have turned out a lot differently.

hey everyone this is D, and as you already know it has taken almost 4 months for us to update this fanfic. as for why it took so long is all my fault, for some reason I could not find the time or inspiration to write my part of this chapter, so I will say now how sorry I am for that, and how none of this is Mickei's fault! on another note we would like to thank all of the readers that story alerted, added to favorites, and especially left reviews…it really meant a lot to know that you guys are enjoying this story. so anyways we hope you enjoy this chapter and don't forget to leave a review!


That's When It All Changed

Chapter 1: The Person I Wasn't Raised to be

There comes a time when every life goes off course. In this desperate moment you must choose your direction. Will you fight to stay on the path while others tell you who you are? Or will you label yourself? Will you be honored by your choice? Or give up? There comes a time when every life goes off course. In this desperate moment who will you be? Will you let down your defenses and find solace in someone unexpected? Will you reach out? Will you face your greatest fears bravely or move forward with faith? Or will you succumb to the darkness in your soul?

-One Tree Hill


Brooke

This can't be happening…not again.

I clamp my eyes shut, and start to whisper to my self, "It's just a dream. It's just a dream" over and over again. Praying with all my might that what's about to happen won't. That I'll wake up, and never have this nightmare again; in fact never even remember the nightmare, like it never even existed in the first place.

But when I open my eyes, I still come face to face with the same scene like all those other nights.

The house I grew up in.

And that's when I see it. My parents running out of the house to their car frantically.

"Mom? Dad?" I whisper.

They start driving, and I know what's coming next, so I start running after them.

"Stop!" I scream. The faster I try to run, the slower I go, "Please, stop! Don't…" my sentence gets cut off by a car crashing into theirs, "NOOOO!"

I fall to the ground, bury my head into my hands, and start crying uncontrollably. I can't breathe, my worlds falling apart, and I don't know what to do. What do I do?

"Its your fault" I look up and see Peyton. I wipe at my tears and shake my head.

It's not…it can't be. They wouldn't want me to think that. I know they wouldn't want me to think that.

"Its your fault" I hear Rachel say.

"Its your fault" Nathan says as I turn to look at him.

"Its your fault" Haley looks at me with resentment in her eyes.

I start to shake my head more vigorously. Why would Haley say that? I don't care what the rest of them say, but she's my best friend she's suppose to be comforting me, supporting me…not blaming me like everyone else.

"Its your fault" Lucas bites out, "are you happy? Do you see what you did?"

For some reason, this is the one that cuts the deepest. I didn't want to believe it, but they're right, I know that they are.

"I KNOOOOWWWW!" I shoot up in bed, screaming at the top of my lungs.

The tears start to roll down my face in a steady stream, "It was my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault" I say over and over again.

Haley storms into my room and takes me into her arms, "shhhhh" she rubs my back, "Brooke you need to calm d-"

"Its my fault" I blubber into her shoulder, cutting her off.

She knows what I'm talking about, cause this isn't the first time I've had this dream. Than again it is the first time that they were all in it, which makes it even worse.

Haley keeps on saying comforting words to me. Trying to calm me down. It usually works to the point where I'll at least be able to stop the crying, and make her believe that I'm ok, basically put on a façade.

This time, its not.

I just keep flashing back to that car crashing into my parents. The crash that I caused. I am finally going to take responsibility for that.

I should feel better now, right? I should feel like a weight was finally being lifted off of my shoulders?

Instead, I feel the complete opposite.

I feel like a failure, disappointment, and worst of all…a fake. I guess that's probably why I can't stop the tears that are free falling down my face.

At some point, an hour maybe two, Haley gives me a sedative to calm me down.

I know what your thinking this girl must be completely unhinged if she has to take prescribed medicine to calm her down; I probably would too if I were you. But the moment your not able to calm yourself down, no matter what you do to try and stop. You realize that there's no other option out there for you, really.

You could say it was the sedative that made me finally fall into a soundless slumber. From personal experience, I would say it's from the overwhelming exhaustion I felt.


As I open my eyes, the event from last night comes flooding back to me. "Ugghhh" I can't help but grown. Knowing that I will have to go through a full blown conversation with Haley about this.

I hate talking about my feelings. I hate being vulnerable. That's why I have my notebook. So I don't have to feel those things. Well, at least around people.

That's why my notebooks my safe haven; it can't criticize me, it can't ask me why I feel the way I do, and most importantly it can't judge me.

And before I've comprehended what I'm doing, I've taken out my notebook and started to write. Words flowing from my fingers, to the pen, to the paper. Endless.

I bet now your probably wondering why I write in pen and not pencil. Pencil. You probably use it so you can erase the mistakes you make in your writing. To make it all dandy. Perfect. If I was that type of person I probably would too. Personally, I like the little mistakes, the imperfections. I guess you could say that's what makes me…me. I'm not perfect. Far from it. And I like that to reflect in my writing. Because by writing in ink, something that can't be erased…makes it so those little mistakes, the imperfections stay there forever.

When I've finally finished thinking that, I realize I've actually wrote it down in here. I guess its staying, cause there's no way I can erase it.

Now what I write definitely isn't going to make any sense, but I continue anyways.

Do you ever feel like everything you do, everything you say, every choice you ever make, everything you ever feel, is never good enough? That no matter what you ever do, say, choose, or feel, is never right? Well if so, I guess you could say me and you are one in the same.

For the past few years those have been my exact thoughts. Like I'm not pretty enough, smart enough, talented enough, strong enough, don't give enough, everything and anything. I'm just NOT enough.

I sometimes felt that way growing up, but living with two parents who I knew loved me, made those insecurities disappear somewhat; they never did fully go away though. They were just buried somewhere deep inside. And the day my parents died those feelings weren't lost, because they came full force when I knew I would never hear my parents voices, never see their big smiles, never get a giant bear hug from my dad when I needed a pick me up, never help my mom with dinner because she wanted to spend some quality time with her only daughter. Never. Again.

When I first felt those things I didn't know what to do. So what else could I do but lose control?

I rebelled. I hated them. They left me all alone, so they needed to pay. And that's just what I did. I made them pay. What I didn't realize at the time was that I wasn't making them pay, I was actually making myself pay.

I barely ate, and when I did it was mainly junk food. I lost my best friend, but gained new out of control ones. I had countless one nightstands, to try and ease my pain. And I hurt people, just to see someone else in pain.

In the beginning I knew I would lose the few people I had left. The only problem that I faced about that was that I didn't care. I wanted to lose control. I wanted to feel numb. I didn't want to feel a single thing.

I didn't finally start to care about what I was doing, until I saw how much I was hurting the people that loved me. I wasn't the person that my parents raised. Instead, I became their worst nightmare.

At that point I knew I wasn't the same girl that I was raised to be. That girl was long gone. But I could try, at least, to become a good person again.

When I finally look up from my notebook. I see that on my alarm clock, the red numbers display that it's 10:15 a.m..

So I haphazardly shut my notebook and place it on my nightstand. And than rush to get some clothes and get into the shower.


As I sit at the counter, stuffing my face with food. I can't help but feel happy. This is one of the only places I can actually be happy.

When I set my fork down on the counter, I finally ask Karen and Haley the question I've been longing to know their answer to for the past three days, "What did you guys think?"

Every week before I go to the hospital to volunteer at the cancer unit, we always talk about the Supernatural episode that was on three nights previously. This is the only time, and only day that we can have this annual talk. The talk that I long for for three days after the episode comes on.

Haley gives me a pointed look as if saying at some point we will talk about my outburst last night, as she sets down her tray, "I couldn't believe that after Dean brought Sam back to life, he was so heartless when he killed Jake."

When her and Karen see the look on my face, Karen laughs, and Haley rolls her eyes, "come on Brooke, can you honestly tell me that you didn't think that wasn't heartless?" I open my mouth to respond, when she starts talking before I voice how ridiculous she sounds, "And don't you dare say that it wasn't heartless, cause you, Karen, and I all know that it was. It wasn't in Sam's character-" Haley stops, but holds up her hand to tell me that she's not finished, "-maybe…when Dean brought Sam back, it wasn't only Sam that was brought back, like yellow-eyes said."

I look at her in astonishment. How nuts can my cousin truly be? When I open my mouth to respond, again someone stops me, "I think the demon was only saying that to get under Dean's skin, to make him second guess what he did."

I smile triumphantly in Haley's direction, "at least Karen isn't nuts like you are."

"Ha ha, very funny."

"Well I thought so" I grin, earning a chuckle from Karen, "On a more serious note, when I saw Dean crying, and pour his soul out to Sam's corpse, I couldn't help but start balling" I look around at them and add on in all seriousness, "my Dean should not be in pain and cry, it breaks my heart" I pout.

At that Karen and Haley start to burst out laughing "awwww…I think our Brooke's in love" Haley turns to Karen.

"How could I not be? Have you not seen what Dean looks like, he is ridiculously gorgeous" I look at them exasperatedly, "I mean the things I would do to that man, if we were in the same room."

At that they both stop laughing, "you guys can't tell me you don't think the same?" I kink an eyebrow.

Karen holds her hands up in the air defensively "I relent. Dean and Sam are both very good looking."

I smirk as Haley sighs, "okay, maybe, they are both hot, even though Sam would be more my type. But that's all besides the point, Brooke. The things that come out of your mouth sometimes are just to over the top. Things I would really rather not know, and I'm pretty sure that goes for Karen too."

"Haley you know you were thinking the same thing about Sam" she groans, as I laugh.

"I was not!" she states forcefully.

"Loosen up, cuz. I was only joking" I wave her off, trying to hide my smile.

Haley quickly grabs her tray, "I will say that you and Dean would look great together though" and then she walks off without a backwards glance.

I turn back towards the counter, and see Karen's knowing smile as she looks down at me "What?" I question as I pop one last fry into my mouth.

Karen reply's "nothing" before I say goodbye to her, and head on my way to the hospital.

Lucas

For as long as I can remember there has been one place I can escape to and not be found by anyone but my mother, the river court is the fist place anyone would go to find me so it is the last place I go when I am in hiding.

When I was a boy the roof of the café was my personal playground, now I lay sprawled on the warm concrete enjoying the peaceful solitude as the rest of Tree Hill moves around me. The sound of the bell downstairs, the soft laughter, the chatter and shifting chairs, it blends with the traffic, the people of the street moving around, the Sorgiovanni's arguing in the florist across the road, it all blends together. With my eyes shut I can just let it all fade away, the sounds start to become quieter until they're just a buzzing in the back of my mind.

It is just me; the roof and the joint Rachel had given me last night. A little extra pick me up is more the others thing than mine, a habit they'd picked up while I was away. Rachel's poison was anything she could get her hands on from alcohol to heroin, Peyton preferred doing lines of cocaine in the back of a club while Nathan went for the classic amphetamines. They weren't junkies though Rachel's wild behaviour and Peyton's answer to her woe is me attitude did sometimes worry me, which is why I stay away from shit like this. Usually.

With another DUI and my hearing today I just need something to help me relax and get through the next few hours and the inevitable lecture my mother will give me. I've been waiting for it, ever since she found out that Nathan bailed me out. I have been tiptoeing around her, wincing every time it looked like she was about to open her mouth, the waiting made it that much worse. It never happened. Mom has been eerily silent, her eyes barely reaching mine, and the lecture I feared still hung over my head unspoken, you would think I would be relieved however it scares me. If she yelled she was telling me she cared, but this… this indifference I was unprepared for, I don't know how to let her know I'm sorry when she hasn't told me I was wrong yet.

It's going to come though, eventually Mom is going to explode, she has to, right? This is the woman who sent me to live with my uncle when nothing else worked, who gave all of my belongings to charity when I started taking them for granted, who gave me a three hour lecture when she found a condom amongst my dirty clothing and then made me tour the maternity ward. Let's just say I don't plan to be a father in… oh, let's say... the next millennium.

Karen Roe lectures, she is the mother of all mother talks and has the mom look down to an art. So it's coming, soon, I can tell, hence the joint.

By the time I take the stairs down to the café I am ready to face the day, from my mother to the judge. My feet hit the bottom floor and I turn the corner, "…would look great together though" a voice drifts towards me.

Haley almost bumps into me, her eyes widen when she recognizes me, and shock, fear and shyness pass over her face, followed by barely veiled disgust.

I try to be polite, "Sorry" but she just stops mid-glare and walks off ignoring me. Whatever, I don't need her approval.

When I walk into the main part of the café my mother has a secret smile on her face, her eyes are on the door where a flash of brunette hair is fast disappearing, "is that-?" I start, my thumb motioning in doors direction, and then my mother's attention snaps to me.

The smile fell, her eyes glazed over, my mother turns her back on me and says with little emotion, "don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Can't we talk?"

She sighs, "I don't know Lucas, is there any point to it?"

And that is when I realise that the lecture I have been expecting, fearing, bracing myself for, it isn't coming. A defeated woman stands before me, one who'd been blissfully happy before I interrupted her, one who has somewhere along the way given up on me.

So I say nothing, I nod and leave the one constant I've always had.


It doesn't mean anything, the quick sentence, the words the judge throw at me, it all means nothing, I could be anyone, when they look at me, list my crimes and then hand down the punishment, they aren't looking at me, Lucas Scott, they are looking at a statistic, a piece of paper, the victims I never had but what could have been.

My lawyer says I am lucky, pay the fine and do the community service, but we all know the only reason I got off so lightly is because of the man standing at the back of the room.

Dan Scott, the biological father, the one who ignored me for over half my life and then decided the best way to get into my life would be to control it. For years he has breathed down my neck, judging my successes, poking at my failures and pressing at every decision I make.

If I wasn't surrounded by witnesses and cops I would wipe that smirk off his face, this is just another way for him to remind me that I owe him, another thing he can hold over my head. Fuck him, I would prefer jail time than to be in his debt, morally anyway, I'll accept his toys, his gifts and money, I will take what he gives me and still stare right through him as I do now.

You are not my father.

Still he smirks, gives me a nod and as I walk by him he pats my shoulder, two solid hits before his hand is gone, and I let out a breath. No matter what he thinks I am not under his control and I never will be.

When he wants me to be grateful I will be bitter, when he wants me to stay I will run, when he touches me I will move out of reach, if he wants me to be a star I will fade into the shadows and when he wants me to disappear I will be there rubbing my existence in.

I am not who I want to be, I am everything he doesn't want me to be, if he insists in showing me off as his son then I will not be a trophy worthy of praise.

And then, as I walk down the court steps, with Dan's eyes still burning a hole into my back, my mothers face appears in my mind. Defeated.

"You lucky son of a bitch!" Rachel's voice breaks my thoughts and suddenly she's hanging off my back, clinging to my neck, her wide smile infectious. I smile back and hold her on more securely until she slips around and just stands next to me, her arm still resting around my neck.

Nathan and Peyton walk up to us, my brother wearing his usual cocky smile, "well, well, you get off Scott free again" he says and Peyton rolls her eyes, she's hugging herself and sending me a pretty unimpressed look.

"Ew, I wouldn't call community service nothing" Rachel shivered, "what is it this time, garbage by the road? Gardening? Those orange jumpsuits are sooo not your colour"

Flagged by my friends I grimace, "some cancer thing with kids"

"Sick people, even worse" Rachel ruffles my hair and I sling my arm over her shoulder, my gaze meets Nathan and he has a strange look on his face though he says nothing, next to him Peyton has turned her back on us and started walking away. I don't question it, I've long given up trying to read Peyton's mind. On the surface we always were alike, deep down we have little in common.

Nathan is still looking at me peculiarly, "you alright, man?" I ask and he shakes his head out if his thoughts, Nathan smiles "yeah, sure, just thinking. Like Rachel said-" he grins at the redhead before adding mockingly "-ew, sick people" and we fall back into our carefree laughter.

It is comforting to know that they are here for me, no matter how many years pass by, no matter the choices we make, we have each other's back. Tennessee Williams once wrote; when so many are lonely as seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone.