I shouldn't have been surprised that Victoria neglected to tell me the funeral plans. 5 years of living with Brooke had made me very aware of Victoria's mechanisms. There was a certain standard the upper echelon maintained, so I knew an obituary would be posted, in a prestigious newspaper, and more than likely full of lies. The lies didn't concern me, because there was only one truth I was concerned with. Rose Hills Memorial Park, 11 am.

"Can I bring Corduroy?"

I turned from the kitchen counter and smiled softly, taking the bear from the little boy's hands and laying him on the table. "No baby, Corduroy has to stay here so he doesn't get lost on the way. We have a long trip ahead of us."

"3 buses?" I laugh, because he is way to smart for his own good. Lifting him up in the air, I squeeze him tightly, closing my eyes as his tiny arms squeeze me back.

"How did you know?" I gasp in feigned surprise, making him giggle and shrug.

"Three buses is a lo-ong way." He said, grinning at his own genius. The grin slowly faded, as he remembered why we were taking the trip in the first place.

"Why can't we say goodbye to Brooke on one bus?" He asked. I sighed. He was being a trooper in not complaining about having to leave Corduroy at home, but I could tell he wasn't happy about it. It was bad enough he had to say goodbye to Brooke, but without the comfort of holding onto his favorite stuffed friend, it would be that much more difficult. But with the drama I was not looking forward to on LA buses, I did not want the tragedy to be compounded by losing his prized possession as well.

His hopeful stare reminded me of how I felt when my mom died, carrying my favorite blanky through the funeral and the wake, riding in the backseat snuggled against it and hiding my face from the world. I was 8 years old and still needed the security. He was only 4, and it saddened me that I couldn't give it to him.

"Not for much longer," I thought to myself. "This madness ends today."

"I tell you what," I said, plopping him down on the counter. "We leave Corduroy here to watch the house, and you can hold onto me anytime you need to."

He looked at Corduroy, then he looked at me. His eyes narrowed slyly. "And you'll carry me all day?"

"If you want me too." I promised. Brooke had always told him that big boys didn't need to be carried, so it was a luxury he hadn't had in a while, since he did anything that would make him a 'big boy.' To me, though, there were so few times in life you got a chance to be held so close by the ones you love, I was prepared to let him milk it until he tired of being toted around.

"Deal." He said, jumping into my arms. I grunted, looking into his brilliant blue eyes that grinned mischievously into mine.

"And what are you doing, Mr. Braedon?" I said, hefting him higher on my hip.

"You said all day!" He reminded me.

He had me there. Truth be told I didn't mind. Whatever put a smile on his face.

We traveled the 2 hours to the cemetery, catching the 2 buses that would take us through downtown and to the other side of the city, and then the third that would let us off in front of the cemetery. We made it on time, standing out of sight of Victoria behind the well-wishers and mourners, many of whom didn't know Brooke but knew of her, through the stories her parents told of the child with the budding career in clothing, taken from them too soon on the brink of discovery by the fashion world.

I smiled sadly as one of the bystanders whispered to her partner. "On the brink of being discovered? That's LA speak for waitressing or working in retail."

How right they were and yet how wrong. Brooke did work at a retail store, Suburban Filth, but she also had a talent that would have eventually been discovered. She was taken too soon, but none of that mattered because she was no longer able to prove them wrong. Peyton shook away the nagging voice that reminded her that Brooke was often too busy partying to work on her clothing line; in death, all potential was forever possible.

Peyton waited patiently until the service ended, until the well-wishers and spectators had made their way back to the car, until the only ones left at the site were Brooke's mother and father.

"What are you doing here?" Victoria snapped as Peyton walked over to pay her respects.

"I have a right to say goodbye, and so does he." Peyton said simply, standing her ground.

Victoria opened her mouth to say something else, but her husband grasped her arm. "It's over, and Brooke is gone. For God's sake, let it go."

She shook off his arm and turned back to Peyton. "Fine. You say your goodbyes. But there is nothing left for you here. Nothing. And if you try to fight me on this, you'll lose more than just a friend." With one last glare, Victoria put her nose in the air and allowed her husband to lead her away to the waiting limo, ready to take them to the repast Peyton was not invited to.

Peyton let out a sigh, before sliding Braedon to the ground. She knelt before him holding out a flower. "You ready to say goodbye?"

He nodded, before walking over and tossing the gerbera daisy into the hole that had yet to be covered. "G'bye Brooke." He said, before walking back over to Peyton and holding out his arms to be picked up.

"That's all you want to say?" Peyton said.

"Yup," he said, laying his head on her shoulder. "Since we took 3 buses and I was good, can we have McDonald's for lunch?"

Peyton sighed heavily. Almost 5 years of living with Brooke and that was the extent of their relationship. As much as she wished it were different, there was very little bond between Brooke and Braedon. Too much partying and not enough time at home ensured that Brooke's permanent absence varied little from how she had been in life, no matter how hard Peyton tried to make it otherwise.

"We can go to Mc Donald's because you were very good today, just as soon as I say goodbye to Brooke, okay?"

Braedon nodded and let go as Peyton placed him on a nearby bench; backtracking to Brooke's grave, she knelt down and gently tossed her daisy onto the casket.

"Who knew our story would end so soon, B. Davis? I was hoping to have a chance to chance your mind, to help you find what you were searching for, to help you face what you were running from. But I'm tired of running, and its not fair to Braedon." Peyton hung her head at an admission she had kept bottled up for more than 4 years. "It wasn't fair to me."

Laughter broke through her thoughts, and she looked up to see Braedon chasing after a butterfly that had flown into sight.

"He deserves to be happy, Brooke. He deserves to live in clean air, and to play outdoors without being scared of strangers, to be able to take his stuffed animal on trips because someone has a car. He deserves a chance to get to know his dad, to know where he got his blue eyes and lanky build, to know that families have more than just a mom, but uncles and cousins and grandparents too. I love you. I will always love you. But I cant live my life for you anymore. Its about him now. It always should have been." Peyton sighed. "I said all that to say," She took a deep breath, and said the words she wished she had been strong enough to say 4 years ago. "I'm going back to Tree Hill."

-LP-

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