When she was a little girl, Brooke Davis-Baker loved to watch the Donna Reed Show.

She loved the pearls, heels, and crisp dresses, but she loved watching the Stone family most of all. She dreamed that one day she would just wake up, and her mom would be in the kitchen, cooking her breakfast, a happy smile on her face. Her dad would be at the kitchen table, reading the morning paper before work. Brooke would sit down next to him, and he would kiss her on the top of the head. Her mom would join them at the table, and they would make light, cheerful conversation. They would be happy.

Occasionally, she would make Peyton act out episodes with her, and Peyton would do so, grudgingly, of course. Peyton always had thought that the show was goofy, but Brooke admired the happy family in black and white, admired the happy endings.

Brooke Davis-Baker always believed in happy endings. Even after every tragedy, every heartbreaking, life-shattering event that had ever happened in her life had told her not to. Brooke Davis-Baker was an optimist.

She smiled to herself as she chopped an onion in her beautiful, elaborate kitchen. After a bumpy childhood, an even bumpier adolescence, and a long string of pain and heartache, Brooke Davis-Baker had finally achieved happiness. She lived in a wonderful house, and had a beautiful, beautiful family. She no longer had to dream about the Donna Reed Show.

Brooke had met Julian Baker in New York. She was designing clothes, and he was filming a movie on location. She was sad and broken, but Julian Baker pulled her out of the darkness, showed her happiness again. Julian Baker made her invincible, because even the tragedy that followed, the pain, the confusion, couldn't break her new-found spirit.

They had married almost six years ago. Around the same time, Brooke began fostering a twelve year old boy named Matthew. When Brooke learned that she would never be able to have children of her own, she vowed that she would help other people who had that same emptiness in their hearts, children who could never have families of their own.

Soon after Matthew became a permanent part of the Davis-Baker family, they adopted a four year old boy from Brazil, Joseph. And most recently, the beautiful baby girl Brooke had always dreamed of- who they named Avery- all the way from China.

They were perfect. They were diverse, eccentric, but most importantly, they were unbelievably perfectly, finally, happy. Her happy ending.

Then

"I'm getting married, I'm finally getting married," Peyton said joyfully, holding the phone to her ear, as she balanced baby Elle on her hip. "Jonathan proposed last night,"

"Oh, Peyton!" Brooke cried, on the other line, "Please, please, please, let me design your wedding dress!"

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Peyton grinned. "And Brooke?"

"Yes?" Brooke asked, eagerly.

"Will you be my maid of honor?" Peyton asked slowly, as Elle tugged on a lock of Peyton's curls.

"Oh, P." Brooke said, happy tears welling in her eyes, "I would be honored,"

"I love you, B. Davis," Peyton said, "God, I almost forgot how good it felt to be this happy!"

"Peyton, do you want anyone from Tree Hill to come? Do you want me to let anyone know?"

"No." Peyton said abruptly, almost harshly.

"Are you sure…?" Brooke asked, uneasily, "Because I think-,"

"No." Peyton said again, "Tree Hill's not my world anymore. I left for good a long time ago. I'm never going back to that kind of pain and heartache. I've found my happy ending, it's here. Here in LA with Jonathan and Elle."

Brooke paused. "I'm glad you're happy, Peyton. You deserve it."

Now

The loud thumps of a dribbling basketball made Brooke look up from her cutting board.

"Hey Brooke," Matthew greeted, as he entered the kitchen, having just returned from a game at the rivercourt.

"What did I say about basketball in the house?" Brooke raised an eyebrow.

Matt immediately stopped dribbling, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry,"

Matt had grown into a strong, young man in the last five years. He had come into the Davis-Baker home a timid, scared young boy with a rough past. Now eighteen, Matt had graduated top in his class, and was headed to Duke University in the fall.

"What's for dinner?" he asked, noting the onions on Brooke's cutting board.

"Stir-fry and rice noodles," Brooke replied, "How was basketball with Jamie and Nathan?"

"A workout," Matt said, "Jamie's gotten really good since he's been at Stanford."

"MATT!" Joseph cried, as he ran into the kitchen, wearing one of Matt's oversized basketball jerseys. It warmed Brooke's heart how much the nine year old looked up to Matt.

"Hey, Joey," Matt greeted, "My jerseys looks good on you,"

"I can't believe you gave it to me!" Joey said excitedly, "Next time you go play with Jamie, can I come too?"

"We'll see, bud," Matt replied, giving Joey a rub on the top of the head. Joey followed Matt out of the kitchen, gabbing excitedly about how he made three jump-shots in a row.

"Momma, momma!" came a little girl's voice, Brooke looked up to see three-year old Avery race into the kitchen, wearing a frilly pink dress-up costume, and sporting a plastic tiara on the top of her head. "I'm a pea-cess, momma!"

"You are a Princess, babygirl!" Brooke smiled, looking up as Julian walked in as well.

"I'm a pea-cess, Daddy!" Avery cried happily, as Julian scooped her into his arms.

"A very beautiful princess!" Julian kissed Avery on the cheek, before walking to the counter and kissing Brooke as well.

"Hi," Brooke smiled, looking into his eyes.

"Hi," Julian said back, kissing her again.

Yes, she had finally found her happy ending.

Then

Elle had been sitting at the kitchen table for almost two hours, intricately working on her latest drawing to give to her mother. Her hands were tired, she was thirsty, but she wouldn't stop until the picture was finished.

"Elle!" Peyton's harsh voice made the nine-year-old jump in her seat. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm coloring, mom," Elle said, looking, recognizing that her mother was in a nasty mood today.

"You got that shit on the table!" Peyton cried, pointing to the lines of wax crayon on the wooden tabletop. "It's all over the table! Can't you keep your goddamn crayons on the goddamn paper?"

"I'm sorry, mom," Elle's eyes welled with tears, "I'll clean it up,"

"Just get out! GET OUT!" Peyton yelled, as Elle jumped at the sound of her mother's voice. "GET OUT!"

Big, fat tears fell from the little girl's eyes as she raced out of the kitchen, pushing past Brooke, who rushed into the room at the sound of Peyton's screams.

Peyton threw the crayons onto the linoleum floor, swearing loudly. "is the whole world completely incompetent? Do I have to do everything around here?"

Peyton then rushed out of the kitchen, and stomped upstairs, Brooke following close behind her.

"Peyton!" Brooke scolded, as they entered Peyton's bedroom. "Elle is a little girl. You shouldn't have yelled at her like that."

Peyton's moods had been so completely extreme lately that Brooke wasn't phased when Peyton suddenly threw herself onto her bed, sobbing loudly.

"I'm sorry," Peyton wailed, her words muffled by the comforter. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"It's okay…," Brooke sighed and seated herself next to Peyton. This was something that now happened almost daily, physically and emotionally draining Brooke.

Her visits to LA had been steadily becoming longer and more frequent. Larry had moved in a few years back, but his job kept him away during the daytime hours. Elle was only nine years old, and couldn't handle Peyton herself. Brooke kept coming back, she couldn't help herself. She had to help her best friend, her P. Sawyer, and little Elle.

"Elle hates me," Peyton sobbed, "She hates me! I'm so horrible to her!"

"No she doesn't," Brooke said softly, "Just apologize later, she'll understand,"

"No!" Peyton said, between gasps for air, "She hates me! All I do is make people miserable! I'm just a waste of space, a waste of a life! I don't even know why I bother anymore! I just want to give up!"

"You will not give up!" Brooke said sternly. Peyton looked down, overcome with a fresh wave of sobs. Brooke grabbed Peyton's chin, forcing the sobbing blonde to look at her in the face. "You have a BEAUTIFUL daughter that loves you, that NEEDS you. Jesus, Peyton, she colors pictures for you EVERY day! She craves your attention!"

"Don't touch me!" Peyton jerked her face out of Brooke's hand, her temper flaring up again, "You don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

"Oh, I sure as hell do know what I talking about! I'VE been there for her!" Brooke hissed, "While you lie in here and sleep all day, your child, your baby is pining for you! A child shouldn't have to PINE for their parent's love! We both knew how bad it hurt to grow up without mothers. Do you really want your daughter to fell that pain and resent you for it for the rest of her life?"

"Screw you, Brooke," Peyton's tone venomous, "You should go back to New York with your fancy movie-producer boyfriend. Stop wasting your time here, pretending to play mommy to MY daughter, just because you can't have any kids of your own!"

Brooke, stung, took a deep breath before walking out of Peyton's room, before she says anything that will further upset her mentally unstable friend. She closed the door quietly, as Peyton began bawling loudly again.

"Don't be sad," came a timid voice from behind her.

The little voice made Brooke jump and wheel around, facing Elle. Brooke let Elle wrap her small arms around her waist.

"Mom yells at me too," Elle said, "But she always says she's sorry, when she's in her nice mood again,"

Brooke's chin quivered as she hugged the little girl back, every fiber of her being working to keep the tears at bay.

***
"She needs to go back," Brooke said to Larry that evening, after Peyton and Elle had both fallen asleep. "She needs help, Larry,"

"I won't put my little girl in the hospital again," Larry said, shaking his head, "It didn't help last time, and it's not going to help now."

"She is progressively getting worse and worse every day," Brooke argued, "It's not healthy to keep her here, pretending there's nothing wrong with her!"

"We have to pretend there's nothing wrong with her! For her own sake!" Larry said desperately, "She will shut us all out if we treat her like a mental case!"

"She IS a mental case!" Brooke hissed, "And I can't keep pretending she isn't!"

"I can handle my baby girl!" Larry said back,

"And I can't keep coming here, and staying for three weeks at a time! I have a demanding job, a life in New York! And I don't want to have to worry about Elle being here alone with Peyton until you get home from work!" Brooke slammed a palm down on the table.

"I'm retiring from my job; I can stay home during the day and be with Peyton!" Larry said, "I can handle my little girl."

"The right thing to do," Brooke said slowly, "Would be to get her some professional help,"

"I can handle my little girl,"

***

"When are you coming back?" Elle said, clinging to Brooke.

Larry had followed through and retired from his job, now living at home with Peyton full-time. Three days after her conversation with Larry, Brooke made the very difficult decision to go back to New York. She sat on Elle's bed, trying to explain to the little girl why she was leaving in only a few minutes.

"Probably not for a while, sweetheart," Brooke said sadly, "I'm sorry,"

"I don't want you to go," Elle said tearfully, "Who's going to help me color pictures for mom?"

"Grandpa Larry is going to take such good care of you and your mom," Brooke assured the young girl. It took everything in her not to promise Elle that she was going to stay after all. "Everything's going to be fine,"

"I love you, Brooke," Elle said, hugging Brooke once more, "I'll miss you,"

"I love you too, sweetheart," Brooke's voice broke as she hugged her back.

After bidding good-bye to Elle, Brooke slowly made her way into Peyton's dark room. Peyton had not emerged for almost three days, a fine example of her depression hitting a very low point, before it would shoot back up in the blink of an eye.

Peyton lay in her large bed, her eyes snapping open at the sound of Brooke's footsteps. She said nothing as Brooke seated herself on the edge of the bed, looking at her friend sadly.

"I'm leaving, Peyton," Brooke said softly, "I'm going back to New York."

Peyton said nothing.

"I don't know when I'm going to come back, but I want you to know that you're my very best friend, and I know that somewhere inside of you, that happy, loving girl I used to know is still there. You just have to find her, find her for your daughter."

Peyton said nothing.

"I know you are better that this Peyton. I love you,"

When Peyton failed to speak, Brooke kissed her forehead before walking toward the door again. Brooke was standing in the doorway when she heard a feeble, broken voice coming from the far side of the room.

"People always leave,"

Now

The tradition had started right after they adopted Joey. Every Wednesday night, after all the kids were asleep, Brooke and Julian would sip champagne while watching old re-runs of The Donna Reed show. Brooke would smile as Julian pointed out technical filming mistakes, shoddy camera pans and goofy storylines. Brooke would always tell him to shut up, and just appreciate the show for what it was: a happy, perfect family.

This Wednesday, however, The Donna Reed show was interrupted by a harsh banging on the door.

"Who the hell could that be at this hour?" Julian said, as Brooke kissed his cheek.

"I'll get it," she said, before making her way to the front door.

Brooke Davis-Baker was a happy woman, a happy woman who never thought about her painful past. She had her husband, and her kids. Everything else didn't matter.

They say that you can't change the past, but you can make sure that your future doesn't involve your past.

If that were the case, Brooke Davis-Baker's heart wouldn't have stopped in her chest when she opened her front door. She wouldn't have suddenly been hit by a tidal wave of painful memories coming back to haunt her, to uproot her perfect, happy life.

"Hello, Brooke," Anna-Elizabeth Sawyer said, "I got your letters."

A/N:

Thanks SO much to all the people who reviewed!

I kind of got the idea for this plot from Bridget's storyline in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2, haha. I've never written anything like this before, and let me just say that it is NOT a Lucas/Peyton story, as i'm sure most of you have probably realized by now, so I apologize if any of you were excited about that! I hope I don't lose any readers because of it :)

For the record, i absolutely do NOT hate Peyton! The whole idea for this plot was just a 'what-if' scenario that popped into my head. I actually really like Peyton's character on the show, even though I made her completely messed up in my story, and i'm sorry if that upsets anybody. BUT that's why it's AU :)

Anyway,

Please let me know what you thought, this is new territory for me! I really appreciate any feedback/criticism you have! Thanks again, darlings!!!

Love, Brennan :)