Conviction

Disclaimer: Don't own anything…unfortunately. Lyrics by Goo Goo Dolls.

Rating: M

Spoiler: Season 4.

Pairings: Lucas/Brooke/Julian, Nathan/Haley

A/N: thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I'm very pleased that no one's entirely too put off by the concept. I wanted to address something common in reviews. Everything that happened on the show regarding Leyton, Lincas, and Brucas, as well as Pulian is 100% true in this story. I did not change anything. The only thing that has changed is that Season 5 never happened, but everything that was referenced still occured. For example, Lucas and Peyton did not get back together after the botched proposal, the Brucas night in NY happened, Pulian happened and ended the same way it did on the show and the only exception is that Lincas broke up and were never as serious as they were on the show. With that prelude, enjoy Chapter 2!

***

Chapter 2: Pull On My Heart

***

"…And we wake up in the breakdown
in the things we never thought we could be…"

The city named after angels is now nothing but a checkered patch of land illuminated by lights and surrounded by a dark ocean.

Haley shuts the plane window in frustration, silently wondering if she made the right decision by leaving her two best friends behind to deal with the mess.

She doesn't even think about what awaits her in Tree Hill. All she can remember now is the two restless nights Lucas spent tossing and turning in a dreamless sleep while she watched him wage a war against his guilt.

She knows she shouldn't be so protective and unfocused on her own feelings, but she can't help it.

She knows as soon as she's back at home, holding her baby in her arms, the tears she sheds over one of her oldest and dearest friends will be long and bitter, but bearable.

While she lost a friend, Lucas lost an important love in his life and she can't imagine what he must be going through.

Thankfully, she thinks, Brooke is there with him, because although the two haven't spoken in almost two years, Haley can think of no other person better fit to handle Lucas at this time and vice versa.

"What are you thinking about?" Nathan asks, sliding his hand over hers. His skin warms her and she can't stop the tightening in her stomach when she thinks about what Lucas said to her this morning.

If it would have been Nathan…

She just doesn't know how she'd handle it.

"I'm not sure we made the right decision leaving Lucas in LA. He should be coming home with me; he needs the support of his entire family right now."

Nathan looks at her with nothing but devotion and admiration. He understands her but he also thinks she's fighting so hard for Lucas' well being right now, because she's avoiding her own grief.

So he squeezes her hand and says,

"He's a grown man, Hales. He might be blind with guilt, anger, and grief right now but he is strong. Lucas will get through this."

Nathan turns towards her and runs his hand across her shoulder in an intimate way that echoes comfort and love and Haley can't help the tears that blur her vision.

"I'm worried about Brooke, too." She says quietly, looking down to conceal her wet cheeks from Nathan; but he is her husband and he knows.

He has always known.

Nathan swallows hard when he's reminded of the brunette, because he is worried about her too, probably more so than he's worried about Lucas.

It seems incredulous to a stranger, but Nathan knows that Lucas' support system is vast and powerful. He can only imagine when Lucas returns to Tree Hill, how Karen, Haley, Lindsay, and even his own mother are all going to be there to help him through this, and Lucas will fight against that, he'll push and shove them away but ultimately he'll know they're there.

Brooke, on the other hand, will return to New York to what? A bitch of a mother, a drug addicted best friend, and a multimillion dollar corporation that seems as cold as her barely lived in apartment, and he only knows all this information, because he's made friends with Brooke's assistant Millicent, seeing as the brunette barely ever comes home anymore.

He's more worried about the ex-cheerleader, because over the years she's distanced herself from the only family she's ever known, and now that a piece of that family is gone, he can't even fathom the consequences.

"I don't think she should go back to New York after this." Nathan blurts out suddenly and Haley looks up at him in question.

She may be his wife for the last four years, but there are some things that surprise her about him till this day.

Like his protectiveness over the brunette he hasn't seen in about a year.

Haley smiles at his determined expression and reaches out to touch his cheek, "Nathan, honey, I don't think that's our decision to make."

Nathan nods turning and kissing the inside of her palm.

"I know, I'm just-"

"Worried?" Haley asks, eyes sparkling from unshed tears as she sympathizes, "Me too. I just want to hold Jamie in my arms and pretend like this never happened."

And as much as Nathan wants to pull his wife into his arms and tell her that they can do just that, he can't, because no matter the amount of shit they've gone through together, he's never been able to lie to her.

They both know things will never be the same, because Peyton Sawyer is gone, taken unexpectedly, shockingly, and painfully.

Their circle of friends is now broken permanently, no longer just scattered, but actually fractured. So Nathan pulls Haley into his arms, holding her tightly, and breathing in her scent, because it's in her embrace that he's always found comfort, even if now it does not seem to be the case.

***

They sit in silence, because Brooke doesn't know what to say to him.

As soon as Nathan and Haley leave, she realizes that it has been almost two years to the day since she's last seen or spoken to Lucas and she fears that if it were not for the tragedy that brought them together today, she probably wouldn't see him for a while longer.

It mystifies her, as she sits with Peyton's sketchbook on the living room floor, that the boy she used to look forward to seeing every day for the better part of high school is now a perfect stranger, connected to her only by her memories and her best friend.

Shockingly, she's okay with it. She always thought she wouldn't manage without him, but she has. Yet instead of it empowering her, it makes her sad, because she understands how detached from everyone she's become. Her life in New York may be reduced to work and sleep the last two years, but at least she knows what to expect. She's learned not to rely on people and it's been okay thus far, but now, now everything has changed.

At that particular moment, Lucas enters the room and briskly walks towards her.

She looks up at him, sweeping bangs from her eyes and thanks him for the wine he places on the coffee table besides her.

"Don't mention it." He murmurs from the couch, and Brooke takes a lengthy sip, relishing the momentary reprieve from her activities.

"What are you looking at?" Lucas asks quietly, the beer bottle poised at his lips as he takes a pull from the bottle.

Brooke quickly looks down and reacts, "Nothing, just some old sketchbook." She explains and moves to her duffle bag, tossing it in there casually, because this isn't just a random sketchbook, it is the sketchbook, filled with classic drawings that would surely break him into a million pieces if he saw it.

As she returns to her spot, she thinks she's been saving him a lot lately, protecting him from what he will have to eventually face.

He'll find out soon enough and will be furious that she concealed these items, but Brooke doesn't care.

She acts purely on instinct and in the back of her head; she silently curses Lucas Scott for still evoking a feeling of concern for him, even after so long apart.

Lucas seems to feel the tension radiating off her, because he tries to make small talk.

"Are you going back to New York after this?"

"Haven't thought that far in advance…" Brooke admits, finding the box of records by her side extremely interesting, "Might be a good time to come home for a while." She adds almost as an afterthought, because in all honesty she's been contemplating that very question long before she received the phone call that brought her here.

But she also knows Victoria would never let her go, and sometimes she isn't strong enough to fight against her.

Then there was Rachel to think about. The redhead is staying with her at the moment, because she spent her last month's rent on recreational goodies and got evicted by her roommate.

Brooke isn't quite sure how to explain what happened to the bubbly and confident former cheerleader since high school, but she knows that when she comes back things are going to change.

She isn't losing anymore friends.

She wouldn't be able to handle it… not that she's doing so well now.

Brooke is so deep into her thoughts, she almost misses Lucas when he says, "Yeah, I think you should."

"Really?" She tilts her head in his direction, "Why is that?"

By the look on his face, she knows Lucas has no idea how to respond, he stammers; takes a sip of his beer and shrugs,

"Because, you need to spend some time with the people who love and care about you"

He says it as if it's the most logical thing and she grits her teeth from the anger that suddenly emerges,

"Yeah and I suppose this is the kind of event that brings those people together, right?"

Lucas looks at her as she snaps, but his expression is unreadable.

"I'm sorry we didn't keep in touch, Brooke, but now that you're here, you should come home." He says it quietly, unsurely, afraid she might snap again, not that it wouldn't be justifiable.

It isn't his place to tell Brooke what to do, not even to suggest it, because she's right in a sense. People who love and care for each other don't wait until this sort of tragedy to bring them back together.

This makes him think of his other ex-girlfriend and suddenly he feels like if he continues this conversation, he won't be able to breathe.

It's then that he starts noticing all the little things around that remind him of Peyton, like the red curtains and the vintage vinyl record player in the corner of the room and he can't handle it. He can't handle being in a place that reminds him of everything he could have had, but lost, because of his own pride and selfishness.

Brooke notices him start to tremble as his eyes nervously dart around the room, no doubt observing his surroundings with a newfound understanding of where he is, what he is doing here, and she swallows back tears as she realizes that it only dawns on him now that he is in Peyton's apartment, packing up her belongings, because she's gone.

And despite the anger she feels towards him, she sits besides him on the couch and pulls him into a tight hug, knowing she can't let him go through this alone.

"You're right." She whispers against his shoulder, "I should come home, but I can't."

Lucas suddenly detaches himself from her, staring her down with his steely blue gaze, "It's not my place to tell you how to live Brooke, it's your choice what you want to do."

"I know that." She says briskly and looks down, wondering if she should tell him why she feels like going back to Tree Hill is a bad idea. She never used to wonder about opening up to Lucas, because it came naturally, but now she just doesn't know.

"I know it's my choice, Lucas, but you know, I've spent the last two days fighting so hard not let the memories get to me, not let this guilty feeling for not being there for her swallow me whole and I can't imagine being able to escape that in Tree Hill, where everything reminds me of her. I can't, I just, I can't."

She's standing up now, twisting the rings on her fingers nervously, trying not to break down, but it's too late. Tears are streaming down her cheeks, she's shaking, and she can't lay a gaze on anything that doesn't remotely remind her of the best friend she's neglected until it was too late.

"So you're just going to run Brooke? Run away back to your glamorous life in Manhattan, forget Peyton ever existed?"

He knows he crossed the line when a flash of fire passes through her hazel eyes and her hands subtly curl into fists as her jaw clenches. He thinks she might slap or him, or run away, but instead all she does is speak,

"You know nothing about my glamorous life." She says through clenched teeth, but the sarcastic tone in her voice is evident.

He's about to apologize, really, he is, but when he takes a step towards her, she flinches and backs away, "You fucking jerk." She whispers, shaking her head in disbelief, "You goddamn jerk."

It's almost a chant now as she repeats it over and over again, stepping further into the shadows of the dimly lit apartment as he tries to approach her. He attempts to say something but his tongue feels like lead and his throat is dry and all these physical impediments paired with the sudden realization that he took his guilt out on Brooke, just like he did after Keith died, make him mute, unable to form a coherent thought let alone a sentence.

"Brooke I didn't mea-…"

"You think my life is fucking glamorous?" She snaps, hot tears streaming down her face as she tries to understand what possessed him to say so.

It's a sore subject really, because everyone who initially meets her thinks her life is indeed fabulous, but those people don't know her, those people don't know her mother, or the constant pressure she is under. All they see is the make up, the money, the arm candy, and the clothes, they don't see Brooke Davis, and she can't believe Lucas is one of those people.

Granted he hasn't spoken to her in two years, but still…it's Lucas.

"No, no, I don't, I'm sorry-…"

He tries to reach out to her, but the closer he comes, the further she slips away and he almost can't breathe, because he might not be able to get over this without her help, her comfort, and her smile.

He can't imagine a world without Brooke Davis in it, especially when he's lost so much already.

"Then why did you say it, Lucas?" Her breath is even now and her voice is calm, but he knows the damage is done.

He put his foot in his mouth at the worst of times.

"I don't know." He admits, shaking his head, and Brooke lets out an unceremonious snort.

"You know, I don't even care why you said it. I just can't believe you did. Peyton is gone, Lucas, she isn't coming back!" The brunette exclaims and Lucas can't help but wince at her words, not only because it's the first time she says something so direct about it but also because as she does, her small hands are shaking in their fists, and she's stubbornly fighting tears,

"And instead of being there for each other, for me, you decide to be spiteful."

It's not until she actually says it that anger bubbles to the surface and she physically pushes Lucas away from her, before frantically grabbing her coat off the rack.

"Where are you going?" Lucas asks, panicked at her sudden movement, but Brooke doesn't answer him, just zips up her jacket and grabs her purse,

"I'm going for a walk and don't try to follow me, you don't want to get harassed by all the fucking paparazzi that follow me everywhere, do you?" she quips back at him, before flinging open the door and walking through it.

He stands rooted in his place for a few minutes, trying to make sense of what has just occurred. He looks at the glass of wine and the box of records besides the coffee table and envisions Peyton sitting in the very same spot, picking out a record to listen to while sipping on some wine and his heart constricts yet again.

"I'm such a fucking screw up." He murmurs to no one in particular, but somehow he thinks the blonde is listening, because the front door swings open wider, beckoning him to follow, and although he doesn't believe in ghosts, he knows it's a sign.

Too bad Lucas Scott is as stubborn as he is misguided at times, and instead of following Brooke out the door, he reaches out and slams it shut, because Peyton lost the right to guide him to anything when she killed herself.

***

She hasn't been in LA for a while now, she's done fashion week here twice but she never got to actually see the city, walk the streets, and take in the atmosphere.

When Peyton and she lived here, they rented on the other side of town, so this area, although reminiscent of the East Village in Manhattan, is absolutely foreign to her.

So she walks down deserted streets, passes by several quaint coffee shops and even quainter boutiques closing up for the night. She even passes a few record stores that have Peyton written all over them and she wonders if her best friend ever just ventured into one of these stores and spent hours leafing through music like she used to.

The thought makes her oddly nostalgic, but not in a way that grips her heart and makes her gasp for air.

The thought of her P. Sawyer rummaging through stacks of vinyl makes her smile, so that's how she finds herself standing in front of a small record store that looks almost like an exact replica of Max's store in Tree Hill.

She reaches the door handle, but hesitates, because she feels like she is about to enter Peyton's world, her sanctuary, which Brooke never felt comfortable infringing on. Yet her hands work on their own accord and she flings open the front door, stepping into the warm atmosphere of the record store.

The clerk gives her a shifty glare, probably because the space is deserted and it's almost closing time, but Brooke ignores him and slips past the stacks of CDs to the back, where she sees the small vinyl collection the store has to offer.

She runs her fingers over several classic recordings, most of them unfamiliar to her, but some, like Led Zeppelin and The Cure, resonate deep within her soul.

She recalls many nights spent on Peyton's bed, just the two of them in that empty house, listening to the music Brooke detested back then.

What she wouldn't give to have another night like that.

She doesn't even realize she's crying until her vision becomes so blurred she can no longer make out the writing on one of the records.

She has a sudden impulse to buy the entire record collection, but she knows it won't bring her best friend back, so she drops the Elvis Costello she holds in her hands and turns around to leave.

However, she's not looking where she's going and collides with another body.

"Brooke?" His voice is calm, gentle, almost surreal, "Are you okay?"

She looks up then, and her breath hitches ever so slightly as she encounters the brown gaze that's haunted her since that morning.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She nods, but it's clearly not the case and she can't meet his eyes, because even though he barely knows her, he won't believe her.

"I don't think you are." He says softly, his hand landing on her shoulder as he tries to catch her eyes.

She wants to shrug his hand away but she is tired, exhausted from lack of sleep and forgetting to eat, and she knows coming in here was a bad idea.

"I'll be okay. You don't need to worry about me." She shakes her head and walks past him towards the exit.

When she makes it outside, the cool air hits her face and she takes a deep breath. She again notices how stifling even cold breeze can be in Los Angeles and momentarily craves the fresh summer air of New York City.

She takes a moment to calm down, thinking Julian won't follow her, but she's indeed surprised when she feels a hand on her shoulder, spinning her around,

"Do you even know how to get back to the apartment?" He asks, still holding her shoulder, still being attentive.

And it suddenly occurs to her that here's this stranger, whom she's never met before, but only seen through pictures, and he followed her outside, even though he absolutely did not have to.

Yet Lucas didn't.

And even though she knows exactly how to get back to the apartment, she shakes her head, flattened curls drifting about her face, and Julian nods,

"Okay, let me walk you home then."

"Actually, do you mind going somewhere else?" she asks quietly and doesn't miss his bewildered look.

There's a pregnant pause as he no doubt evaluates how deeply he wants to be involved, his internal battle is playing out before her very eyes.

He probably doesn't want anything to do with anyone related to Tree Hill, to Lucas' novel, to anything connected to Peyton.

She's pretty certain that despite what Peyton told her after they split, Julian had his heart broken.

She knows, because she's seen that look before, in the mirror.

Julian runs his hands through his short hair and nods,

"Yeah, I know a place we can go not too far from here," he murmurs.

Brooke is a little bit surprised, but then not very much so when she sees his kind eyes dart in her direction.

She knows he doesn't want to be here and probably regrets bumping into her, but she's grateful that he doesn't say no to her, because the last thing she wants to do is go back to that apartment and continue to pack up boxes.

Most of all, she just isn't ready to face Lucas again.

"Lead the way." She smiles softly and Julian motions her down the street.

***

With the flight delay and the time change, they stumble into their newly purchased house at close to two in the morning.

Tired but determined, Haley drops her bags by the front door, a habit uncanny for her since she likes everything to be in its right place, and walks up the stairs, already picturing her son's angelic face as he sleeps.

Nathan follows her silently into Jamie's room and although he missed his son like hell, he watches from the doorway as Haley sits down by the edge of his bed and runs her hand gently over his forehead.

Jamie's a deep sleeper, always has been and the gesture doesn't wake him up. Instead, he snuggles deeper into his pillow and clutches his stuffed rabbit, courtesy of his godmother, tighter.

Haley can't resist so she leans down and brushes a kiss to his forehead, before standing up and walking back out the door.

"You should say good night to him too." She whispers as they stand in the doorway, but Nathan merely glances over at their sleeping boy and shrugs,

"You gave him a pretty sweet one from the both of us." He smiles softly at her and Haley instinctively reaches out and touches his cheek.

He leans into her touch unconsciously, reveling in her softness and then he's pulling her into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her, holding her as close as possible.

The last two days have been horrible and all he wants to do is selfishly block everything out and just hold his wife, at least until their rambunctious child runs into their bedroom in a few hours, demanding gifts.

Haley seems to be the thinking the same thing, because she takes his hand and leads him down the hall to their bedroom.

When they step in, Nathan shuts the door and turns around, expecting his wife to be rummaging around the room, getting ready for bed, but instead he finds that Haley's pulled off her top and is in the process of unbuttoning her jeans.

She steps out of the pants and Nathan takes in a breath.

He knows this isn't the time to be thinking about this, but she still takes his breath away.

"Come lie down with me." She whispers when she's slipped underneath the covers, not bothering to put on pajamas.

Nathan obliges, stripping off his shirt, jeans, and socks before crawling onto his side of the bed.

"You must be exhausted baby." He says as he pulls her flush against her. When her warm skin touches his, he shudders involuntarily.

Her hand glides up his chest and she buries her nose into his shoulder, before saying,

"I'm not that tired."

Nathan looks down at her then through the darkness. He runs his hand up and down her back, stopping at her bra clasp, but he hesitates.

"Hales," He whispers through the quiet as she flings her leg over his waist.

"Just touch me." She says softly, knowing that Nathan does not stand a change against her gentle tone and huge, pleading, brown eyes.

He audibly groans as she pulls herself completely on top of him, creating friction and heat and everything he has been devoid of since going to LA, and even though he almost feels like he's taking advantage of Haley's vulnerability, the way she clings to him clouds his judgment.

Haley senses his apprehension and feels guilty for putting him in this situation, but after what Lucas said to her that morning, she can't help but want to feel as close a humanely possible to the man she loves.

"I just want everything to go back to normal." She whispers and her words cut him to the bone, so he pulls her up to his level and covers her mouth with a languid kiss.

Haley responds immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulls her down beneath him and she relishes the hardness of his body as he shields her from the cold in the room.

"I wish I could make this better for you." He says against her neck, planting soft kisses all the way across her collarbone.

Haley wraps herself tighter around him, "You can." She says tenderly, "You already have by just being besides me, being my rock."

Their eyes connect in the darkness, breaths mingling, and Nathan sees the overwhelming sadness in her eyes and he knows she's not lying.

So he kisses her again, harder this time, pulling her on top of him as her hands expertly travel down his body, making him shiver.

No other woman has ever come close to eliciting such a physical response from him and as he feels himself react to her touches, he knows there's no turning back now and reaches up behind her to unsnap her bra clasp.

She gives him a small smile and then a sharp intake of breath as his hands travel up her ribcage and settle on her breasts.

She leans down and kisses him gently but passionately and murmurs against his lips,

"I love you."

He runs his hand over her cheek, not missing the sorrow in her eyes and says,

"I love you too Hales."

He removes the rest of the barriers between them and a delicious moan escapes her mouth.

Nathan promises that he'll get her though this.

He has to, because without her, nothing in his life is worthwhile.

***

He brings her to one of the small coffee shops she passed on her way here. He holds the door for her as they step inside and the warm smell of baked goods intermixed with the rich aroma of coffee makes her feel better than she has in days.

They both order muffins and giant lattes and Brooke ignores the warm feeling she has in the pit of her stomach as they simultaneously put the same amount of sugar into their coffees and stir.

Julian watches her as she breaks her blueberry muffin apart and wonders how he has come to have coffee with this woman, given the circumstances.

He doesn't ask her why she walked into that record store, nor does he wonder why she gravitated towards the vintage section, because he's not stupid.

He's barely touched on his own pain, the shock of what he found out this morning is still fresh, still impalpable, but he knows she's had time to process this. He understands that unlike him, she's passed the stage of denial.

He knows she's distraught, broken beyond repair after what has transpired, so he does what he thinks he'd want someone to do for him if he were in her situation; he distracts her.

He inquires about her fashion line, about living in New York City, about any good movies she's seen recently, and despite the proverbial elephant in the room, Brooke responds in length. Not just the two word answers she's given everyone else who has asked her these questions, but actual long detailed explanations.

She describes fashion week and they laugh over how high maintenance models can be. They both know, because Brooke has worked with them and Julian has dated several. They compare New York and LA, both staunch supporters of their respective cities. Brooke finds herself smiling, really smiling, and her dimples pop out when Julian talks about the tantrums some of the directors he's worked with have thrown.

"Talk about high maintenance." He comments as their light laughter settles down.

He looks at the two empty coffee mugs and the half eaten pastries between them and knows they can't stay in this bubble for long.

It's inevitable that one of them will mention it and as he watches her nervously twist the rings on her fingers, he knows it will be him.

"That was one of her favorite record stores." Julian says softly, gauging her reaction, wondering if he should continue.

Brooke meets his eyes and takes a breath,

"Really?"

Julian nods, a fond smile playing on his lips as he lets himself remember, "Yeah, she used to sneak out there for her lunch break and spend ridiculous amounts of money on music she always had to justify to me."

Brooke chuckles in spite herself, because Julian's reaction to Peyton's music is similar to hers. Yet as he talks about the playful quarrels the two used to have over the radio station, it dawns on her that Julian may not have spoken to her best friend in almost a year, but he is probably still not over her, like Peyton thought he was.

It makes Brooke feel sad and selfish, because she's forced herself on this guy without realizing that the wound for him is also still fresh, no matter how much time has passed.

"I'm sorry." She blurts suddenly and is embarrassed that she interrupted Julian's reminiscence.

"You're sorry?" He raises an eyebrow and Brooke fidgets in her seat.

"Yeah, I am. I didn't realize…what I mean is I've been so focused on myself, I didn't understand-…"

She is stammering, doesn't know how to explain herself to Julian and she's never felt more insecure before.

Even though he doesn't know her, Julian can see that and knows what she's apologizing for.

So to make her feel better, he reaches across the small table, squeezes her hand, and says, "You have lost so much more than I have, and it's okay to focus on your own grief."

Brooke isn't sure if she should be put off or grateful for his admission, but either way she has little time to contemplate, because her phone vibrates against her hip.

She mumbles an apology to Julian, who nods in understanding, and she retrieves her Blackberry.

She flips open the screen and sees the text from Lucas.

Where are you? I'm worried.

It's simple, but it makes her heart constrict and suddenly she's chewing her lower lip, considering her next move.

Does she stay or does she go?

Julian sees her ambivalence and smiles ruefully, "You have to go?"

Brooke stays still for a moment, but ultimately nods, "Yeah, I think I do."

But it's not she who makes the effort to get up; Julian pushes back his chair and stands up, "It's getting late anyway."

She nods, dismayed at the abrupt interruption in their conversation and her weakness when it comes to the blond boy even when she's incredibly pissed at him.

They walk outside in silence and the cold air sobers her up. Julian turns to her and she doesn't know what to say.

"So it was very nice to meet you Brooke Davis, in spite of the circumstances."

Brooke smiles softly, agreeing, "It was a pleasure to talk to you, Julian Baker."

"Take care of yourself, Brooke." He says and she'd like to believe he really means it, because no one has said that to her in a while.

She knows he's being polite, but nevertheless it warms her and she finds herself saying,

"You should really come to Tree Hill."

She can't say funeral for the life of her, it just seems so wrong and unnatural.

"I'll think about it, okay?" He replies and Brooke nods, because there isn't much else to say and she really wouldn't expect him to show up.

He doesn't need to be reminded of everything he's lost if he doesn't need to be.

"That's all I ask." She smiles, a bit too brightly for the situation and Julian finds himself actually considering going to Tree Hill.

Brooke waves him good bye and starts walking away in the direction of Peyton's apartment, when it dawns on him,

"Hey, do you know your way back from here?" He calls to her and Brooke turns around, nodding,

"Yea I do."

And as he watches her walk away, it doesn't escape him that she probably knew her way back all along.

***