Hey everyone! OKay so incase this wasn't clear THIS IS THE SEQUEL TO NINE CRIMES! And yes, I've changed the title lol. I was listening to Beauty From Pain by Superchick and I just realized it was such a better fit than 'Anyone Want To Take Me Home?'. Anyway, I'm really not sure how I feel about the Lucas scene in this but eh, I've done what I can lol. Also, this story is gonna be a little longer than I originally thought. SO big thanks to Lynn for helpin me sort everything else and to Emma cause.. well she's just awesome.. plus we're the Angst Patrol lol. Thank you all for your reviews and I hope y'all enjoy the new chapter!
He ignores everything. His mother's knocking, his cell phone's vibrations, Haley's concerned speech from outside the door. He ignores Peyton when she walks in, waving a large manilla envelope in front of his face.
"Hey, you alive?" She leans above him, checking his pupils and the color of his skin. She puts a hand on his forehead before sighing and standing up straight. "What's wrong with you?"
"What's not," he questions back, talking for the first time that day.
She rolls her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic." She walks over to his side door and opens it, letting all the freezing air in. She rummages through the bag that hangs on her shoulder and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. She lights up then sits in the open doorway, her smoking stick outside.
"Why'd you start," he mumbles from underneath his blanket, half his face hidden by his pillow.
She shrugs, blowing a long stream of smoke out into the snow filled city. "I've smoked on and off since my mom died. Truth is, whenever it gets too much I do it."
"I'm sorry," he says too late as she stubs out her cigarette.
She stays looking outside, watching the snowflakes fall one by one. "You can't help who you love," she answers, her breath visible. She watches as that familiar blue bug drives past the house and then it clicks. "She came to see you yesterday." It's a statement not a question, because even if he denies it, she knows it's true.
"I sent it to her." She looks back at him, a little confused before motioning to the envelope she left at the foot of his bed. He sits up slowly to grab it, weighing it in his hands first. He opens the metal prongs and reaches inside, pulling out the thick piece of paper. He looks at it carefully, looking at every single detail for as long as he can.
It's separated into three boxes. The first is Brooke like he likes to see her. Smiling widely with two beautiful dimples in her cheeks. Her hair's in a loose ponytail, wearing a simple pair of jeans and a flowy top. The part that hurts is Brooke's abdomen. It looks like the ultrasound, the outline of their baby floating in gray. He's drawn in the corner of the box, only the back of his head and neck is visible. She's smiling at him and he can only think about how he'll give anything to have her look at him like that again.
The next box is even more saddening. Brooke's hair is down and messy, her dimples replaced by streams of tears. Her clothes are baggy and her stomach is filled with nothing. Just emptiness. It doesn't even look like anything ever occupied it and it shouldn't be that way. There needs to be evidence, there needs to be proof so they can be allowed to grieve. He stands behind her in that picture and it sort of shocks him. There's bags under his eyes and he looks so damn tired. From what's drawn, his shoulders are hunched and his hair is going every which way. He doesn't look like that does he?
He moves to the final box and if he didn't feel like such a huge pile of shit he'd probably smile. Brooke's aged but only slightly. Her smile's not as wide as it is in the first box but her dimples are back. She looks healthy again and her hair is shorter and straight. The outline of her uterus can still be faintly seen underneath her clothes but he can't necessarily see what's inside, if there's anything at all. She's looking at him again and even he looks a lot better.
"What is all this," he asks the curly blonde. She rolls her eyes and just motions for him to look. Love In Time. Each word is written at the bottom on each box in faint curvy letters. He lets out a heavy sigh and then tosses the paper to the end of his bed. "Thanks." He sort of mumbles it and she watches as he scratches his head. He closes his eyes before getting up to pace. "Hey Peyt, do you mind? I kinda want to be alone."
"I didn't give you the picture to beat off to, but whatever. Just don't get it sticky. I worked hard on that," she teases, standing up and grabbing her bag.
"Peyton," he grumbles and she holds up her hands.
"I know. You need time to think. I get it." She's already halfway out the door when she says, "All in time Luke..."
Once the door shuts behind her, he covers his face with his hands. He loves the picture while it only reminds him of where he's at. He's done nothing but have Brooke yell at him or simply ignore him for so long now that it doesn't seem like they'll ever get out of this place. It hurts because he's done nothing to fix it. He's just been a stupid pussy hiding out behind everything. He's done all he's could. He tried blocking it out, tried pretending it didn't happen but he couldn't. Because he knew it did and it meant too much to simply forget.
God, he was ready to give up everything for them, he truly was. He wanted to be with Brooke. To hold her, protect her, be the one she went to when she had a bad day. He wanted to be there to see his baby be born, wanted to love and cherish and raise it. He wanted to see Brooke's stomach grow large and tell her everyday that she was still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He wanted to see Brooke on the couch in her living room, holding their newborn baby. He wanted to see her in that motherly glow and speak in that soft can caring voice he knew she was capable of.
He lets out an angry groan and pounds his fist against his wall. All this thinking about what could have been and almost was was making him even more depressed than he already was. He rips off his thermal top and steps out of his pajama pants before grabbing a towel and walking across the hall to the bathroom. He turns the shower on to the hottest it can go before stepping in. He needed to block it out again, even if it were just for a moment. Because now, remembering is hurting just as much as blocking it out. He shuts his eyes tight and that's when he sees it, clear as day.
She sits next to Peyton in the quad, her brown hair framing her face. Her face is rounded and it makes her dimples pop out even more. She's wearing green sweater and dark wash jeans, her red backpack slung over one shoulder. Her make up is still in it's 'light' phase, just some lip gloss and light eye shadow. She's beautiful. Her laugh is infectious and even though he has no idea what's so funny he wants to go up and laugh with her. Peyton cracks a small smile at the joke and then looks up and locks eyes with him. He remembers looking away.
That was the first time he saw Brooke. It was on the fourth day of freshman year. He remembers the next time he got a really good look at her. It's sophomore year and Taylor invites -drags- him and Haley to a party. Brooke's shit-faced and when one of Taylor's football friends tries to grab her, he goes into defense mode. But, then he remembers they were from totally different groups and that he'll be pummeled if he tries to help. So he finds Peyton, who is fortunately sober, to get her out of groping hands way.
He remembers sitting on his bed a few months ago and watching Weird Science with her. She sits close to him, her legs curled up underneath her. They make jokes and he makes her dinner. She kisses him on the cheek before she leaves that night, thanking him for the first good time she'd had in a while.
He remembers the way her thumb felt when it rubbed his hairline in her car outside school. He remembers the first time he kissed her and he remembers the outline of her body and shape of her belly.
HIs eyes pop open quickly and he notices that his breathing has gotten heavier and his eyes are stinging. God, he misses her so much. But it's all ruined and she's gone along with their baby. It hits him just now that she's slipping away fast and he doesn't want it to happen. He wants these happy moments.
He wants them with her.
He walks up the steps he used to frequent when Haley had lived there. It's funny looking back on it now; Haley had only lived there for four months yet it seemed so much longer. When he gets to her doorstep, he stands there awkwardly, not sure what to do. Should he knock or just walk right in, if her door is open? Or should he use the spare key she had given him when he was going to move in that he never gave back? He lets his whole body relax, easing himself into doing this. He raises his fist and does the polite thing, knocking on the door.
He's honestly surprised when she opens the door so quickly. She looks equally shocked. "What're you doing here," she asks, closing the door a little so he can just see her. He stands there for a couple seconds, not too sure what he should say. In his head the talk went a lot differently. He imagined her slamming the door in his face or hitting him. But, he figures he's caught her totally off guard, giving him a slight advantage. He thinks.
"Um," he clears his throat and shoves his hands into his pockets, It's hard being so close to her. He wants to touch her, hold her, he wants all of her. "I came here to apologize."
She rolls her eyes and rearranges the towel that's wrapped around her small frame. She'd ordered a pizza twenty minutes ago and she silently curses herself for assuming it was the pizza guy. "You shouldn't be here."
He shakes his head and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "But I should, you just wont let me." He keeps his voice soft and even because he doesn't want to yell at her. Neither one deserve it because it's neither of their faults. "I want to apologize," he repeats himself, this time a little more forceful with his words, just to let her know he means it.
She looks at him blankly. "For what?"
"For taking the the ultrasound and then sending it back like that. It wasn't fair to you." He's sounding forced, like a child who's only apologizing since his mother told him to. It's not coming out at all like he wants it to and it's evident when she snorts.
"Wasn't fair to me? NONE of this was fair to me! How could you be so heartless as to just take it?!" Her voice doesn't sound like it did last night. Then it was angry and loud but now, it sounds so damn sad that he can't remember why this was a good idea.
"I know," he says softly. "This should've never happened and I am truly sorry that it did but it's not my fault Brooke."
"Yes it is! ALL of this is your fault! You're the reason Peyton hates me, you're the reason I'm like this!" She almost mentions the baby, almost. She can't do it though because even though she spends hour upon hour staring at the ultrasound she refuses to admit that it really happened. That there was once something so... wonderful inside her that was simply expelled. "And god, you were just so fucking selfish!" She's standing so dejectedly in front of him, like she's just given up. She looks so tired, so depressed that he was to resist reaching out to touch her again.
"No! God no Brooke! I took the ultrasound to... protect you. I know that seems weird and stupid but I did what I thought was best. I thought that if maybe I removed it, it'd help it hurt a little less." He's dropped his voice to practically a whisper because he was never supposed to tell her any of this.
She lets out a snide laugh and opens the door a little wider. "That's the problem Lucas. It was removed." She closes the door in his face and when she lets go of the door knob, she realizes she's shaking. It's starting to hurt again, that ache in her heart that spreads through her whole body. She grits her teeth, forcing the pain to go away. She's been blocking it out ever since it happened because she refuses to cry again. If she cries then it means it happened and she's been doing a good job of pretending that it was just a dream.
On the other side of the door, Lucas stands there defeated. He's ruined this situation and he can't even fathom how to make it better. He shuffles down the steps, completely aware of the fact that that this was the closest they had come to actually talking about the baby. He gets to the bottom steps and the pizza boy starts his way up the stairs he's just descended. "Hey." He stops the boy who doesn't look much older than him. Lucas digs into his pockets and pulls out a twenty before dropping it on top of the red insulated container. "Does that cover her pizza?" The boys nods wearily and Lucas responds with a firm nod before walking to his car.
He opens the door he forgot to lock and looks back up at her apartment. He sighs and hopes that maybe that can at least be the first step towards showing her that he isn't the enemy.
Haley's stopped over again, busying herself by picking up the trash that litters the small living room and kitchen. Brooke sits motionless on the bright yellow couch, watching some telenovela that she got addicted to a little while after Haley had moved in. "How was California?" She tries to make small talk but it doesn't work. Brooke responds with a roll of her eyes and turns the volume up a little louder. Haley lets out a deep sigh and it irritates her. All Haley does now is sigh around her. Like she's so damn pathetic. "Brooke, I'm trying to talk to you."
"I don't want to talk," she says and now an irritated groan escapes her lips. "Can you please stop doing that?" Haley looks up at her, shocked at the words that flowed out of her mouth.
"What?"
"Your sighs! Just stop it! That's all you do around me now," she tells her, wanting her anger to just bubble down. She's closed herself off from everyone but there are still times were she craves for another person to be with her, who knows what she's going through.
It comes out horribly angry and Haley's still staring at her blankly. She stands up straight, dropping the old pizza box back on the ground. "I don't want to be here. You like this, is horrible to watch." She's talking to Brooke so bluntly that it almost scares her. "But I'm here anyway because I care about you. Because I don't want to lose you in all this. But you have got to help me help you."
It comes out of her mouth without even realizing. "I don't want your help, nor do I need it. Just go away from me." It's the straw that breaks her back. She drops the trash bag in her hand, shaking her head, her face flushed with anger and her eyes filled with tears. She slams the door shut behind her and the vibrations hit Broke with full force. She's alone again and as much as Haley was starting to piss her off, she just wants her to come back.
She walks down the hallway Monday morning, her long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She turns the corner so she can get away from the row of 'Scott' lockers, immediately hitting Nathan. "Jeez," she mumbles before looking up at his face.
"What the hell Brooke," he spits out angrily. Her face contorts in confusion but then her 'talk' with Haley a few days ago comes back to her. It explains everything, the look on his face, the way he stands, the sound of his voice. "Haley has done everything for you! And you're just gonna fucking yell at her?"
She stands there, taking the yelling from him like she used to listen to one of her mother's rants. When he's done she clears her throat and brings her icy gaze up to his blue eyes that mirror his brother's. "You have no idea what you're talking about." He scoffs and she shakes her head disapprovingly. "She keeps pushing me Nathan and I can't take it."
"You can't take it? Fuck Brooke, I get that you're depressed and all that but do NOT yell at my wife for trying to help you!" She doesn't want to hear any of this because she knows if he lays into her long enough, she'll start feeling worse than she already does. She starts to walk away from him, mumbling that she has to go to class but he follows her. "Don't walk away from me Brooke. You know it's not right."
"Shut the fuck up Nathan," she yells over her shoulder, not caring that she just walked past her freshman English teacher.
"Brooke, I get that it's hard but you've got to open up." He's trying to keep his voice down since the student body is surrounding them and he knows Brooke doesn't want people knowing her business. He knows what that's like and this isn't something everyone needs to know. She's walking faster, trying to get away from him and the words that are tearing into her. "Just FEEL something B!" He hasn't called her that in ages but it rolls off his tongue. It was used way back when they were younger, back during simpler times. Times where he wasn't married to Haley, Brooke was still bubbly, and Peyton was so much less emo.
It doesn't effect her though, not visibly at least because she simply flips him off and that's when he just breaks. He comes up and grabs her arm hard, turing her to face him.
"Nathan, let go of me," she mutters trying to pull her arm from his grasp.
"No Brooke. Not until you fucking snap out of this Peyton phase." She refuses to look at him, still pulling her arm away from him. He pulls her closer, trying to get her to just look at him and see herself. That's when he notices her eyes watering. He loosens his grip, afraid he might actually be hurting her, but then he follows her eyes and he drops her arm completely. It's silent between them for a good two minutes and when he finally stops looking at Michelle with her newborn baby, he moves in front of Brooke's gaze.
She stares at his chest, not blinking or moving and he just doesn't know what to do. She can feel the water start to pour down her cheeks, the salty liquid drenching her pale face. She wants to stop watching her old friend with the small infant with the red peach fuzz on her head and wrapped in a soft pink blanket. She wants to go up to her and hold her, rock her back and forth and make her smile her gummy smile. Michelle walks past them, totally unaware of the broken girl breaking down on the other side of the hall and Brooke just can't hold it in. She lets out that first heart wrenching sob and Nathan moves forward, wrapping his arms around her, burying her face in his chest. She clutches on to the shiny white jersey, everything pouring out of her. All the built up emotion; the pain and sadness and regret. "It's all my fault Nate."
He buries her face into his shoulder and he whispers in to her ear, "No it's not."
"Yes it is," she responds, muffled by the clothing. "I wasn't good enough." His heart breaks when the words leave her mouth.
He hugs her tighter and rubs her back softly. "You are good enough Brooke."
"But I'm not," she cries, her tears soaking the mesh material of his shirt. "If I was I'd still have Peyton, and Haley, and you and Lucas! I'd still have my baby!" The hallway is empty now and he's glad because no one can hear her or see her other than him. He wishes that Haley would appear out of no where like she usually does because he doesn't know what to say other than she's enough.
But somehow, he knows it wont help.