Hey guys! Thanks for reviewing! I was almost afraid that people would disregard it as just another Prom night fic. So thanks for giving it a chance! Hopefully chapter two won't disappoint. (:
And I apologize for the stall. I went camping this weekend and was forced into not being able to write. I'll try to get the next chaper up ASAP.
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"No! Get off me, please!"
"Don't pretend that you don't like it."
"Please, just stop! Just stop!"
"Not until you say it."
"No…please, let me go…"
"Say it."
"I c-can't…just stop…you're hurting me…"
"God damn it, Brooke, say it!"
"I lo-love you, D-Derek."
"Brooke."
"No, please, just get off!"
"Brooke, wake up!"
Brooke suddenly sat bolt-upright, her eyes wide open and bloodshot. Instantly, she was overwhelmed with a pain in her back and her face contorted to fit the agony. The nurse was quick to gently push her back into a horizontal position, laying on her side in order to keep pressure off the wound on the back of her right shoulder. Brooke had fallen silent, but her fragile body shook incessantly and her eyes refused to blink. She just stared straight ahead, focused on nothing at all.
"You were dreaming, Brooke. You're safe now," the nurse tried to soothe the traumatized girl, but the attempt seemed fruitless since B rooke just continued to stare at the wall in silence.
Brooke had been at the hospital for two days, but for all she knew, it could have been two weeks, two months even. She didn't know when the police had arrived at the house. She wasn't aware that she and Peyton both were rushed to the hospital in separate ambulances. Because for two days, she had been
completely unconscious. Just fifteen minutes ago, the nurses in the hall had heard the disturbance in Brooke's room. She had been screaming. It had taken a lot for the nurses to get her to wake up, but finally the teenager opened her hazel eyes. Her behavior was far from what they expected. The nurses had anticipated a melt down consisting of endless "Where am I?"s and "What happened?"s. But they got none. Brooke simply laid there in complete, utter silence as the nurses buzzed around her, checking her stats and her vitals, as was their duty. But once all the formalities were taken care of, one nurse in particular pulled a chair up to Brooke's bedside and sat down.
She was short and very skinny with taught, fair skin and bulgy blue eyes. Her hair was a dark honey color and was pulled up into a messy bun at the back of her head. She was probably in her late twenties, if that. The nametag on her chest read "Grace".
"Brooke, sweetie," she said with a gentle tone as she peered into Brooke's expressionless face. "Brooke, can you hear me?"
Brooke did not answer. She didn't so much as move, or even look at the nurse.
"Brooke, honey, if you can hear me, blink twice."
The brunette's eyes remained open and focused on the wall.
Grace sighed, defeated, before standing up and returning the chair to its proper place against the wall. Before exiting the room, the nurse stopped and looked over her shoulder at the still figure that was Brooke Davis. Her heart ached for the girl and everything she had been through. She wished that there was more she could do to help other than what she was required to do. Unable to think of anything, however, Grace released yet another sigh and left the room.
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"Who is here to see a… Miss Brooke Davis or a Miss Peyton Sawyer?" the doctor asked from the front of the waiting room. He turned his head when two young men and one young woman stood and made their way towards him. "Hello, I'm Doctor Harris, one of the residents of this hospital. I have updates on the conditions of your friends."
Lucas Scott, his brother Nathan, and Nathan's wife, Haley, waited with anticipation for the doctor continue.
"Miss Davis is still in Recovery. She has responded very well to the surgery and her punctured lung seems to be healing quite well. She actually woke up just twenty minutes ago."
The three teenagers were relieved to hear that Brooke was recovering, but even they knew that Brooke wasn't the one they need worry about.
"Miss Sawyer's condition is currently stable. We had to perform an emergency surgery on her this morning due to complications of the liver. "
With this news, Haley didn't hesitate to slip her hand into Lucas's and give it a reassuring squeeze. Poor Luke had been on edge since they'd received the call from the hospital, and Haley was sure that he hadn't slept a wink, despite what he told them. He was far too worried about his girlfriend to think about anything else.
"The surgery went smoothly, but Miss Sawyer will be staying in the ICU for at least three more nights. We are monitering her heart and her brain activity closely. We will be sure to let you know if anything happens, good or bad."
The doctor turned to leave, but Nathan stopped him with his strong, urgent voice. "Wait, can't we see Brooke?" he asked with admirable naivity. "You said she's awake, right?"
"Yes, you heard me correctly. Miss Davis is awake," the doctor replied. "But you may not see her."
"But why?"
"Are any of you related to Miss Davis?"
"Well no, but-"
"Then you may not see her. Only relatives are allowed to visit patients in Recovery. I am sorry. You'll have to come back when she is moved to the General Ward."
"But sir, please," Nathan continued. "Brooke's parents live on the other side of the country and she has no other family here," he explained, his tone revealed the fact that he was practically pleading with the doctor. "We are her family."
Doctor Harris seemed to consider Nathan's words for a brief moment, then said, "Come back tomorrow. I'll see what I can do."
Nathan smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Doctor."
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"Miss Davis, we need your cooperation here, okay?"
Brooke remained silent in her place beneath the stiff blanket of the hospital bed. Like before, she was still laid on her side in order to avoid agitating her back. She had been awake for nearly six hours and still had not said a word to anyone. When the doctor had come to check on her brain activity with various
tests of the eye and reflexes, he had deduced that there was nothing wrong with her mentally, that her lack of communication was not a result of her injuries. It was a choice.
Most of the nurses sympathized with Brooke. They understood her silence. They didn't push her to talk. It was their duty to maximize the comfort of their patients, so that's what they did. They went it, did what they needed to do, and as long as Brooke complied, their job was easy. If they asked her to sit up, she would without a fuss. If they needed to change her medication or her dosage, she didn't so much as bat an eyelash. She was completely passive. A ghost. And the nurses knew better than to tamper with her for now.
The police officers, however, were completely impatient and cold. It was as if they were unaware that the young woman they were talking to had just been viciously attacked. There was no concern in their faces. No compassion in their voices.
"Miss Davis, answer us," the second officer, Bouten, demanded.
"At what time did you return to Miss Sawyer's Saturday night?" pressed the first officer, Kelley.
Silence.
"Can you tell us where you found Ian Banks?"
"Or rather, where Banks found you?"
Officer Kelley was a stout man, probably no taller than Brooke, but much meatier. His hair was thinning and his bushy moustache was decorated with specks of grey. His fingers looked more like little sausages as they held a pen and pad at the ready. He had beady eyes that were almost black and seemed to dart between the blank notepad and Brooke, as if he were nervous.
Officer Bouten looked like a polar opposite to his partner. He was tall and lean, and anyone would assume that beneath his uniform awaited a very muscular and toned body. His dark hair was thick and cut short, his face clean shaven. Behind his silver framed spectacles were two alarmingly blue eyes. He was actually quite handsome.
But Brooke hadn't bothered to notice. In the ten minutes the two men had been there, she hadn't once taken her eyes off wall parallel to her bed. Despite what her silence might have suggested, however, she was listening. She had paid close attention to every word that had been said within ear shot of her room. She'd been listening to hear news about Peyton, to hear news about that blonde bastard. And as the officers spoke to her now, all she felt was anger and confusion; anger because they were so indifferent to her suffering; confusion because she had no idea who this Ian Banks was.
"In what condition was Miss Sawyer when you first saw her?"
As Brooke's eyes instantly began to well up with tears, she was thankful to hear one of the nurses come in and interrupt the two men in their interrogation.
"Alright, Officers, I think that's quite enough," the woman said with a hasty tone as she began shooing the men out of the room. "Obviously Miss Davis is in no condition to make a statement yet."
"But we need-"
"No!"
"Just a few more ques-"
"Out!"
Brooke heard the door to her room slam shut, and then there was silence.
Even though Brooke chose not to speak when there were people in her room, she hated being alone. When the nurses were buzzing around, she had something to concentrate on. Something to focus her thoughts on. Even when her door was open, she could busy herself with listening in on conversations taking place in the hallway. She could listen for any piece of vital information on Peyton's condition or the state of their attacker.
But when she was alone, and her door was closed, she had no choice but to pay attention to her own conscious. She was forced to recollect on what had happened to her. Forced to relive that night, over and over again. He was gone, and yet he still managed to attack her every time she closed her eyes. It was the most disturbing reality, knowing that no matter how safe she might be physically, her mind was eternally vulnerable. He could find her no matter how hard she tried to hide. She was never safe.
Within several minutes, Brooke's mind had wandered to the subject of her parents. Earlier, she had heard the doctor asking the nurses on the whereabouts of Mr. and Mrs. Davis. Brooke had nearly burst into laughter. Even if the hospital did manage to get a hold of her parents, she doubted that they would care, and even if they did, they wouldn't care enough to come all the way back to Tree Hill. They would most likely send a Get Well card. Maybe even flowers, if she was lucky, but even that was unlikely.
Then her thoughts found Larry Sawyer, and how much pain he would be in when he found out about Peyton. He would harbor enough concern and enough empathy to outweigh the Davis's ten times over. Brooke might have never said it out loud, but she envied Peyton. She had such wonderful, loving parents, even if one died ten years ago and the other was gone most of the time. At least they loved their daughter more than material things. Brooke would have given anything to grow up with parents that actually gave a shit.
But of course, the thought of Peyton's parents brought up Ellie, which eventually turned to him. Suddenly, his face invaded Brooke's mind and she shut her eyes tight in attempt to block him out. But he was still there. He was still hovering above her. His hands were still all over her body.
And then she was screaming again.
"Get off me, please!"
Two nurses rushed in immediately, one of which was Grace. She moved to Brooke's side and grasped her hand tightly. "Brooke, honey, wake up! You're safe."
The brunette slowly opened her eyes, but they were still full of terror. As the other nurse stuck a syringe into Brooke's IV and emptied its contents, Brooke looked at the nurse who was holding her hand and whispered with desperation, "I need to see Peyton." Grace simply nodded as Brooke's eyes fell closed and her grip on the nurse's hand loosened.
Once she was sure Brooke was out, Grace turned to her colleague and said with hope, "She spoke."
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And there you have it folks. Hope you liked it.
I know, poor Brookie, right?
R&R. 3
