"Watching"
You get to the airport in record time, make it to the nearest terminal and start asking a slew of questions about boarding times and connector flights to a frightened flight attendant. She steers you in the right direction, though, and within the hour you're on a non-stop flight to Raleigh. You thank God for the thought that you'd had the day before when you put a box of Fruit Smiles in your diaper bag, and entertain your daughter with the books you've stowed away with them as well. It's only when she falls asleep on your lap that you allow your mind to process what is going on, why you're on the plane to being with, and how you're actually going to get to Tree Hill when you won't be touching down for another five hours and you don't have any mode of transportation. You pull out your phone, sending a quick text (even though you know you're not even supposed to have it on- but it's an emergency, damn it) to you father who you know is state side this month- thank God. He texts you back, saying he'll meet you there. You don't tell him what it is about because there's not enough text space in your message and you really don't want to talk about it, but you try to let him know how urgent it is that he be there on time. Message received, you allow yourself to nod off during some point during the flight, your arms unconsciously tightening around your daughter as she snuggles in your chest.
When you close your eyes, however, your head becomes completely wrapped around your best friend- the one you will be seeing a in a few short hours. Within moments of nodding off, your mind is in Tree Hill- you've all of a sudden appeared at the Pier that you and Brooke used to frequent when you both went out on her parent's boat. You begin to take steps toward the place you remember the boat being docked and look down at yourself. You're wearing the clothes that you were currently traveling in- and you knew that this had to be a dream, that you couldn't possibly be in Tree Hill- where was your daughter if this were real, after all? You're incredibly self aware within this realm of dreams, you realize, and though you're beyond confused, you continue to walk toward the familiar area of the pier. And that's where you find her, where you knew you'd find her.
She's just as beautiful as you remember- all tan skin and dark hair- it's longer than you remember it being since the last time you visited. She's sitting with her legs hanging off the pier, her eyes fixed to her lap, her hands stroking over something almost reverently. She doesn't comment as you approach, just continues staring down at the object of her affection. It's not until you are standing directly over her shoulder and are peering down at it that you realize that it's a child- a newborn laid out on its back, squirming and squinting, one little fist balled up, the other wrapped tightly around your best friend's fingers. A little boy dressed in a yellow onezie with turtles dancing down his left side. He has a shock of dark hair and bright blue eyes and he's absolutely beautiful- you have the sudden urge to protect him above all else. You stand there for a few moments and just stare at the child, taking him in. Just as the silence becomes too much and you're about to say something, she beats you to it.
"Bout time you got here," she says jokingly, her eyes never leaving the child in her arms, "I was wondering when you were going to get here to meet your nephew, Sawyer."
At that she finally turns to look at you and there's something different about the way that she looks at you. She has tears in her eyes, but that's not what's different- you've seen her break down multiple times. No… it's something else, you muse. Your eyebrows crinkle as you attempt to place the look. It takes you a few moments but you finally realize that the look she is sending you is full of love. You've seen her shoot you a version of the look before, yes- but this… This takes your breath away, leaves you warm and brings tears to your eyes. This is the look of unabashed, unmovable and unconditional love- the love a mother for a child. She looks at you for a moment longer and then moves her eyes back to the baby- her baby- and stokes her free hand down his soft face. When she speaks again, you've somehow moved to her left side and seated yourself in the same manner as she is on the pier.
"This," she says, moving the child into your eager arms, "is Davis Peyton Baker." She stops to look you in the eye, smiling as your eyes flit over the child squirming in your arms.
"Sorry to steal your formula, Peyt, but it works. Just feel lucky that your name is bisexual-"
You shoot her an incredulous look and she laughs.
"Or gender-neutral, whatever." You laugh at that, gathering the child closer to you. He looks at you dead in the eye and you can almost see his brow furrow as he tries to place you, tries to figure you out. You ghost your finger over his cheek in the same manner as the girl sitting next to you just did and try to choke back the tears forming in your eyes.
They clog your throat, though, and when you speak his name, your voice catches. You unconsciously play with the baby's hair and lean your body into the girl sitting next you. She sighs, wraps an arm around you and you find that you are happy, at peace in this moment- more at peace than you can remember being in a very long time. This time, however, it is you who breaks the silence.
"You did it, Brooke." You whisper, eyes still locked on the child in your arms, "He's beautiful. You've finally made all your dreams come true, B. Davis. How does it feel?"
There is silence until you feel the sobs begin. When you do, you pull back in alarm, tearing your eyes away from the baby at last. You ask her what's wrong and she buries her head in her hands as she cries in earnest. When she speaks, you balk at the sadness overwhelming her voice.
"Oh, Peyton," she whispers, "I… I'm so afraid that I'm never going to see you or him ever again."
Your brow crinkles in confusion and suddenly your arms are empty. She's taken the baby back from you, tears still falling from her eyes.
"Brooke… I don't understand… what's the matter?"
When you turn to look at her this time, though, she's not the Brooke you've seen every time since you were five. This Brooke is bloody and bruised and broken- her face littered with lacerations, her eyes puffy and barely open. You find yourself wracking your brain… what the hell had happened to her? Julian hadn't gone into detail but you'd just assumed…You simply stare on, transfixed, unable to look away. The baby stays in her arms, though, content and happy and unfazed. She looks at you one more time, grief evident in her eyes as your throat catches in a scream. You catch one more sentence that comes streaming out of her mouth before you're ripped from her side.
"You have to wake up, Peyt," she rasps out, "You have be here. I can't do this without you."
You wake with a loud gasp, the images in your head consuming your thoughts for a moment after you wake until your daughter's face comes into view. She snuggles into your chest at the movement and sighs but is otherwise unaffected. You unconsciously hold her closer to you and then look at your phone. Only another thirty minutes before you're supposed to land. You can do thirty minutes. You stare out the window of the plane, the images of your best friend broken and bloody seared into your memory. You bite the tears back and tell yourself it was only a dream, that you don't know what's going on- it could be nothing, that you'll get back home and she'll be fine… But after the dream you've had, your head and your gut just won't shut up and fear and anxiety are quickly racing up your spine, wrapping your body in a cold, numbing chill.
But still, you take a deep breath and reason- she was pregnant, things always seem worse when there's a medical situation and the woman's pregnant. You sigh and feel the
seconds tick by, hoping to God that your father shows up on time so you can go home and be by her side where you belong. You want… need to know that she's okay. Because she has
to be, there's really no other option.
//
Voila! Part Dos! Please review, let me know what you think. It's about to get kind of dark and twisty here, folks.
