Conviction

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

Rating: M

Spoiler: Season 4.

Pairings: Lucas/Brooke/Julian, Nathan/Haley

A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews for the last chapter. You guys keep me going. This part is dedicated to Angell4NEPatriots, she knows why!

***

Chapter 3: Reel In My Emotions

***

"My eyes are open wide
By the way, I made it through the day…"

The apartment is dark and quiet when she slips past the front door and takes off her jacket. She is about to flick on the lights when she sees a blond head of hair sticking out from behind the couch and when she moves closer, she frowns realizing there's a bottle of Scotch besides a lowball glass on the coffee table.

When she surveys the tormented expression on Lucas' face as he lies in a fitful sleep, she's tempted to take a heavy gulp of the amber liquid herself, but decides on a cigarette instead.

She knows it's a disgusting habit, but over the years she's lived in New York no one's come close to being important enough to quit for and she really isn't as concerned with her own health these days.

It's stupid, but now especially she just doesn't care and she pauses to look at the broken man sprawled out on the couch.

She reaches out and brushes hair from his forehead, before standing up, and trying to escape the sinking feeling that a long, long time ago, the boy on the couch might have been someone important enough.

The first hit of nicotine relaxes her at once. She sinks into the cushions by the window and watches the streetlights flicker as she blows smoke out the open window.

"Since when do you smoke?"

His voice startles her and she turns around, a half finished cigarette poised at her lips.

"Can't give you an exact date and time, but I'd say pretty soon after you visited me in New York."

She knows she's being a little spiteful in her tone and in the rehashing of painful memories, but he always gets away with saying mean and thoughtless things to her, so maybe she can too.

Lucas ignores her comment as he sits up and stretches,

"Where'd you go?"

He asks instead, keen on changing the subject but Brooke just shrugs and continues smoking,

"I was around." She answers and looks away, exhaling out the window.

She doesn't notice Lucas give her his signature, squinty look.

He doesn't respond, instead Brooke listens to the clink of glass and the pouring sound of liquid. She doesn't turn around until Lucas has had a stiff drink from the bottle.

She stubs out her cigarette and slides off the alcove, "Well, I'm going to bed. Don't indulge yourself too much; we've got a lot of packing to do before our flight tomorrow night."

She says it so casually it makes Lucas sick. He feels guilty all of the sudden, because he spent two hours worrying about Brooke and then falling asleep unwillingly, and the whole time the reason for their trip has stayed in the back of his head, not invading his thoughts like it has for the last two days.

He doesn't know if it's a good or bad thing, but as Brooke slides past him, he grabs her wrist. She stops, stares him down with a menacing gaze that reminds him of the days he thought Brooke Davis was just an ice queen and nothing more.

But she doesn't try to pull away, she lets him hold her hand and run his thumb over her wrist bone.

"I know you don't want to hear it, but I am sorry for what I said earlier."

Their eyes connect in the darkness and she softens immediately upon seeing his sincerity; however, Brooke knows Lucas has a trend of saying things and apologizing for them later, expecting people to forgive him.

"I know your life is anything but perfect. I know your mother-…"

"How would you know Lucas?" She spits out venomously, a hint of coldness in her voice, "You and I are not exactly friends. God, we haven't even spoken since that night."

Her voice trails off and it's Lucas who has nothing to say. It's true that he hasn't spoken to Brooke in a while, but he has been keeping tabs on her. Sometimes, out of sheer curiosity he will Google her name and see what she's up to. Other times, if he stumbles upon an interview with her in a magazine or on TV, he'll drop whatever he is doing to watch or read about her.

Once Haley caught him staring at a Vanity Fair feature on her and he told her it's because he likes seeing his prediction coming true. Outwardly, he watches her, because he knows she is destined for great things, but secretly, he is so incredibly proud of her when he sees her success that it's beyond just a passage in his novel.

It's his sincere respect and admiration for her that takes over.

But he knows if he admits any of this to Brooke right now, whatever delicate thread that's holding them together will burst, because her first priority is facing a world without her oldest and dearest friend and that should take precedence over his relationship to her.

So, he drops her hand and stands up, so that they're face to face and although Brooke avoids his eyes, he doesn't let her go,

"I know we're not friends Brooke, but we're here, because of something terrible that's happened and I have no right or actual desire to make it any worse on you by demanding things from you or accusing you, so even if we are not friends, I am still very sorry and don't want you to have any added stress right now."

"Lucas-…"

"No, listen to me." He says softly, taking her hand even as the brunette hesitates, "I know we're not friends and it kills me to know that it is more my fault than yours, but I know that Nathan, Haley and everyone back in Tree Hill are the best way for you to heal. So that's the only reason I suggested you come home, not because I'm envious of your life or because I think you're too good for Tree Hill, but only for that reason, because I think being together in this will help all of us."

Brooke is a bit shocked by his declaration and secretly wonders if he spent the last two hours rehearsing this apology, but she knows from experience that Lucas has always had a way with words and although she really doesn't want to believe him, she knows he is right.

Tree Hill has always been home and she doesn't know if she'll be strong enough to remain in a place where everything reminds her of Peyton, but she has to try.

"I thought about it on my way home." She says, "And maybe I can stay for a few days after the funeral."

Lucas smiles softly when he feels the smallest squeeze of her hand in his, but he doesn't miss the shine of tears in her eyes, "That's great Brooke."

She nods, but doesn't say anything.

Her face feels hot all of the sudden and she isn't sure what has brought this on, but she knows, she knows the little game of pretend she had with Julian for the few hours is over and its not coming back, because Peyton isn't coming back and all that she feels is overwhelming guilt and despair.

Her best friend is gone, and she actually let herself forget about it.

Ignoring Lucas' bewildered stare, she clasps her hand over her mouth to muffle her sob and tries to pull away from him, but the blond doesn't let her go.

He also doesn't ask what's wrong; he simply pulls her closer, clenches her to his body as she loses her battle with control and tears leak from tired eyes as sobs shudder her body.

"Brooke what's wrong?" He asks but it's in vain, because they both know she'll never tell him.

She won't disclose where she'd gone tonight or where the last two years have taken her, but Lucas doesn't let her go. He isn't angry that she's silent, because she isn't pulling away, she's letting him hold her and soak his t-shirt with her salty tears, and he knows that this is Brooke's way of letting him in, so he'll make the most of it.

She shakes in his arms and he decides that maybe she should lie down. She doesn't protest when he picks her up and moves her over to the makeshift bed, lying down besides her and pulling her against him as if it's the most natural action in the world.

There's a silence in the room that's interspersed with soft sobs as Brooke wraps her arms tighter around herself, trying to ignore the hollow feeling that just won't go away.

Lucas lies besides her, watching as she shakes, but can do nothing because as far as he knows, she hasn't let herself fully realize what's going on. She's kept it all inside and they both know she needs to let it go.

God knows he's done it and despite it not alleviating the ache in his heart, there's a strange sense of clarity that envelops him and he knows Brooke needs it too.

It won't make anything better, he knows, but neither will keeping it in.

So he holds her and lets her cry into his shoulder and when she whispers I'm sorry, he convinces himself that it's directed towards him, rather than the blonde artist he finds himself silently apologizing to every day.

***

Haley isn't exactly sure what wakes her up, but when she sees her husband lying wide awake besides her, she's glad she isn't asleep anymore. Nathan lies rigidly, staring at the ceiling with the sheet around his waist. She doesn't take even a second to admire his broad shoulders and chiseled chest when he speaks,

"I don't remember the last time I saw her."

His voice is barely above a whisper, but the sorrow evident in his words makes Haley scoot closer to him and wrap her arms around him, even though he remains as stiff as a board.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't remember the last time I saw Peyton. I don't remember if it was the Christmas break of our freshman year in college or if she came back home after that ever again." Nathan explains and even as he speaks, Haley feels the impending doom, because it dawns on her that she can't remember either.

"I think it was that break, because Lucas and she broke up that spring."

Nathan takes a deep breath and gulps down much needed air.

The revelation makes him sick and burns his insides as he thinks about it even more.

"She was my oldest friend Hales. She, Brooke, and I, at one point it was us against the world and before Lucas, I swore to protect them both and look what happened. I couldn't save her Haley, because I wasn't even there, I didn't even fucking see her for over two years and-…"

Haley can't bear to hear anymore, because she knows that on some level Nathan's guilt is not unfounded.

"Nathan, honey, you cannot blame yourself for what happened; you just can't. It's not like you were idling all these years, you have a family, and you had to fight for your dreams. Peyton wouldn't hold that against you."

She reaches out to touch his cheek and is shocked to find moisture there. Nathan hasn't cried since Jamie was born and even then, they were happy tears, not the salty, brackish liquid that burns his cheeks now.

"I'm not saying you and Jamie aren't important to me Hales, but it doesn't change anything." He says more resolutely now, as if he has finally reached whatever horrible conclusion he was mulling over.

"I know it doesn't, but you can't blame yourself for what happened. It isn't your fault."

Even as she says it, Haley knows her words are hollow and fall on deaf ears. She thinks, no she knows that tenacity is a gene that all Scott men inherit, but she wishes for once that were not the case.

"Maybe if we had kept in touch, maybe if I had flown down to see her a couple times; maybe things would have-…"

"No, Nathan you can't think like that." Haley admonishes, but her tone is weak, because she knows her protests are fruitless.

She knows Nathan won't let this go.

"I can't help it." He murmurs and this time Haley pulls him into a deep hug. Their bodies, free of barriers, fit together seamlessly and Haley lets Nathan lose himself in the only tangible form of comfort she can provide at this point.

"I should have been there. Somehow, some way I should have been there." He murmurs into the crook of her neck and Haley soothingly runs her fingers through his hair as he cries.

He never hid his tears from her, but whereas before he was composed, he isn't now and her heart aches for this man who feels as broken by his friend's passing as his brother.

And as Nathan cries into her shoulder and she whispers calming words into his ear, Haley muses about how different the two Scott brothers are, but how they have two things in common: their painfully alluring blue eyes and their unconditional love for Peyton Sawyer.

***

The plane ride is mostly silent, occasionally interspersed with bouts of empty conversation. Neither mentions the previous night, the argument they had, Brooke storming out, Lucas lying down with her as she cried, or her waking up to almost all the boxes packed up in the living room and a cup of coffee sitting on the table besides her makeshift bed.

Staring out the window of the airplane, Brooke thinks about the blond boy sitting besides her. She knows he is sorry for what he said and that he's more than made up for it, by staying awake most of the night, watching over her, packing up boxes for her, and making her breakfast, but she can't shake the unnerving feeling that haunts her every time she thinks back on their conversation.

She just never really thought Lucas of all people could think so hideously of her and touch such a nerve for her that it has her thinking about it even a day later.

The stewardess passes and Brooke declines the complimentary peanuts. Her gaze falls on the slumbering man besides her. He is clearly so exhausted from the recent events and the night he spent packing alone that he fell asleep almost immediately after take off.

He looks so innocent, free of worry, and incredibly young. He doesn't look like someone who has lost so much in his 21 years on earth and Brooke reaches out in spite herself to squeeze his hand, wondering why it is that she can be so honest with him only when he's semi conscious.

Despite that he's been sleeping for a while now, Brooke can still hear soft music playing through his IPod headphones and pulls the device towards her from curiosity. She doesn't recognize the song, but she isn't surprised, considering Lucas and she never had much in common, music included, but she does not miss the significance of the playlist, the dozens of songs that no doubt remind him of his first love, his soul mate, his Peyton.

Brooke shuts her eyes, the curly blonde never far from her mind, and puts the gadget back on Lucas's lap.

She looks back out the window and tries to concentrate on something other than Lucas and the playlist titled "Blondie".

Her curiosity does not extend beyond that, although if it did, she'd see that there is a playlist named after her as well, one that Lucas has devoted a lot of time to recently.

But not that it would make any difference whatsoever.

They weren't soul mates to begin with, at least not in her mind.

***

It's hectic in the airport when they arrive through the gate, but even in the throng of people they both still spot the blonde man who is supposed to pick them up.

Her breath hitches in her throat as she pushes people aside and hurriedly makes her way to the only father figure she's truly ever known. Lucas isn't far behind her, but Brooke doesn't even notice until she's approached him.

"Hi." She says breathlessly and before Larry can even reply, the girl who is like a second daughter to him falls into his arms. He wraps his arms around her instinctually, noticing that she's thinner than the last time he saw her and his throat tightens, because that's what he'd always say to his kid when he came home from long dredging jobs.

Brooke holds onto him, trying hard not to cry, because seeing Larry reminds her of the guilt that lurks in her mind. He asked her to take care of his little girl when they boarded the plane to LA three years ago, and she failed him.

She failed Peyton.

Over his shoulder, Larry locks eyes with Lucas and he gives him a small smile, because it seems like this boy needs at least a little bit of reassurance that everything will be okay; and despite that Larry doesn't know if he'll ever recover from the shock of losing his daughter, he can't help but feel fatherly concern for Lucas and the defeated expression on his face.

Brooke eventually pulls back but not before murmuring into Larry's ear how great it is to see him and how sorry she is.

Wiping a few tears from her cheekbones rather discreetly, she gives Larry a rather mothering stare,

"You look exhausted. We should've just taken a cab." She apologizes but the older man is already shaking his head,

"Nonsense, no kids of mine will take cabs." He says sincerely and Brooke feels her eyes burning again, she throws her arms around Larry again, but the embrace is brief and when they pull apart, Larry smiling in spite of his own emotions, Lucas approaches the pair.

"It's good to see you Mr. Sawyer."

He extends his hand, but Larry shakes his head and pulls the younger man closer, enveloping him in a hug Lucas didn't know he needed.

"It's great to see you." Larry says, "Rake boy."

And the nickname makes all three of them smile fondly. There's a moment of silence until they realize they're in the middle of a bustling airport, so Larry grabs Brooke's bag and escorts the two outside towards his truck.

The car ride is silent but not awkward. All three occupants are lost in their own thoughts for the most part, but Brooke peels her gaze away from the window long enough to watch Larry behind the wheel.

He appears calm but she knows better. His deep blue eyes, though no actual relation to Peyton's, expose his emotions just as his daughter's always had.

He seems lost, broken, but trying very had to keep it together for their sake and she suddenly has an idea,

"Larry, I'm staying in Tree Hill for as long as I can and I would like to stay with you."

She says so in one long breath and Lucas suddenly sits up in his seat, "I thought you were going to stay at my house."

Brooke turns around, biting her lip. She isn't sure what to say, how to explain her sudden urge to spend time with Larry, and she doesn't want Lucas to misconstrue her actions so she looks at him with pleading eyes for just a split second before turning to Larry.

"With Karen, Andy, and Lilly back, Lucas's house is really crowded and Nathan and Haley have Deb staying with them, so I'm basically homeless. What do you say?"

Larry looks at her knowingly; well aware of her intentions even as she tries to hide them, "You do realize it's a one bedroom bungalow on the beach."

"I've always loved the ocean." She says smiling tightly.

Larry lets out a chuckle and looks in the review mirror. Lucas is now gazing out the window, not paying much attention to the conversation in the front.

"I'll even take the couch." Brooke adds pleadingly.

Larry hesitates as he tears his eyes away from Lucas, "Are you sure you wouldn't be comfortable elsewhere?"

His words have a double meaning and they both know it, but Brooke shakes her head vehemently, replying, "No, I'm right where I want to be."

And despite feeling like there's more to her statement, Larry reluctantly agrees.

***

Upon finding out that she was Peyton's closest friend, the Reverend asks her to speak. At first she's touched by the offer, after all there are far more eloquent people in her best friend's life who can do a much better job at eulogizing, but as soon as she steps into the church, she regrets ever saying yes to the reverend's offer.

It doesn't escape her that the service is held at the only church in Tree Hill, the one where Haley and Nathan renewed their vows, the one where Jamie was christened, the one where undoubtedly Lucas and Peyton would have wed if she hadn't rejected his proposal.

As she makes her way to the front pew, Lucas turns and meets her eye. He's flocked at both sides by Haley and Karen, who welcome her with restrained smiles and sympathetic looks. He doesn't look any better, eyes blood shot and mouth creased in a frown as he merely nods her way and turns around.

She wants to throw up.

The only honest expression anyone gives her are her god son and Lilly, who sit on either side of Andy, too young to understand what's going on, but being respectful of the quietude because their mothers told them so.

The raven haired girl smiles softly at her, eyes shining in partial recognition and partial bewilderment and it reminds Brooke so much of Keith that she feels the prickle of tears that come too early.

Jamie looks at her innocently as well, but he also recognizes her and the unbridled love in his blue eyes makes her want to curl up into a ball and make the world disappear.

Larry's gentle probe on her elbow forces Brooke out of the reverie as they sit down and Brooke is almost thankful for the blinding strip of sunlight that filters through the massive stain glass church windows, because it gives her an excuse to slip her sunglasses on.

This way no one can see her cry.

***

"…And now, one of Peyton's closest and dearest friends will say a few words, Brooke?"

The Reverend looks down at her from the stage and she sucks in a breath as she realizes what he's instructing her to do. She nods to him with a tight smile, pulls her sunglasses off, puts down her clutch, and on unsteady feet ascends the stage.

On her way, she passes by Nathan, who discreetly brushes her hand in reassurance. She doesn't look at him, but when she finds herself at the podium, she looks down and mouths a thank you to the boy she's known since diapers.

God, things were simpler then.

She's aware as she unfolds the piece of paper she brought with her, that the entire church is silent.

Besides the swish of wind coming from the open doors and the occasional hiccupping sob, the auditorium is extremely quite and Brooke takes a deep breath to steady her nerves.

"When Reverend Thomas asked me to speak…" She begins, but her throat is suddenly so dry, she can barely croak the words out, her palms are sweaty and she clutches the podium to the point that her knuckles turn white.

This is what a panic attack must feel like, she muses, and tears burn her vision in humiliation, because not only did she fail in saving her best friend, but also she can't even properly remember her.

She opens her mouth to apologize at her inability to do this, and that's when she sees him.

He's leaning against the entrance of the church and looks anything but relaxed.

However, the sunshine behind him bathes him in a shroud of light so he looks like an angel and even though she can't see his face and can't exactly explain why his presence sends a wave of calm through her, she doesn't think about it.

She just opens her mouth and speaks.

She abandons the messy scribbles she prepared and instead improvises.

Although, it really isn't improvisation when you're speaking from the heart and as Brooke showers the room with details of her 15 year friendship with Peyton Sawyer, she doesn't look down at the front pew, where the people closest to her reside. Instead she finds herself looking over them, to the church entrance, where a complete stranger who offered her the smallest bit of comfort, now offers her the most encouraging smile he can under the circumstances and gives her strength to remember her best friend in the fondest way possible.

Her hands are still shaking as she completes her eulogy and steps off the stage.

When she slides in besides Larry, the older man grabs her hand in a gentle squeeze and suddenly tears are cascading down her cheek without reprieve. Larry wraps an arm around her and Karen reaches across the aisle to grasp Brooke's hand.

Brooke smiles at both of them, but all she really wants to do is turn around.

As the Reverend makes his final parting comments, she finally summons enough courage to tilt her head backwards and is not at all surprised that he is gone.

She wills herself to focus on the rest of the service, because they'd only gone through one part of it and she feels like any moment she'll break again.

But she can't shake her thoughts of him and as they file out of the church, heading towards the cemetery, Brooke finds herself searching for him on the street.

She's convinced herself that all she wants to do is thank him and let him know where the wake will be, but even as she tries to do so, she feels the deceit seep into her bones.

She knows she's selfish.

Instead of mourning her best friend, she searches for a man she's barely acquainted with and she knows she'll pay for it later, when she's alone, unable to fall asleep in the dark, thinking about how jaded she's become, with no one to hold her as she cries herself to sleep.

***

He's not at the cemetery and he's not at the wake, so when Lilly and Jamie approach her, the former reaching out to touch her dress and commenting on how pretty it is, Brooke decides to forget about him for a while and focus on making sense of this event for two innocent three year olds.

They sit on the overstuffed loveseat at Nathan and Haley's, a kid on each side, and Brooke absentmindedly runs her fingers through blond and brunette strands, feeling the presence of childhood innocence warm her frayed heart just a little bit.

She's too entranced by a story Jamie's telling her about his pet rabbit Chester, to notice the older woman approach until she speaks,

"You're a natural."

Brooke looks up to find Karen standing before her with two cups of what appears to be tea.

"It's good to see you Karen." She murmurs as she accepts the mug and holds it with two hands.

"I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to talk, honey." Karen explains, but Brooke is already shaking her head.

"It's okay, I completely understand, everything has been so hectic."

Karen is about to speak, when Lilly pulls lightly on her dress, "Mommy."

"Yes sugar plum?"

"I'm hungry. Can Jamie and I go get the cookies?"

Brooke smiles in spite herself when she sees the hopeful look on Lilly's face and Karen nods,

"Sure, I need a minute with Aunt Brooke anyway."

A few moments after, the two women step out to the backyard and sit down on some lounge chairs.

It's quiet, because everyone is inside and the children have been instructed not to make too much noise.

The sun beams down on them, absorbing heat through their dark attire, and Brooke slips her sunglasses back on to avoid the blinding sunshine.

"So how have you been Brooke?" Karen says quietly and Brooke shrugs.

"Been better, I guess." She admits, swishing the remaining tea at the bottom of her mug.

"It will get better you know." Karen states but despite always heeding the wise woman's words, Brooke has the weirdest urge to laugh in her face.

But looking at Karen's kind eyes and soft demeanor, Brooke remembers that if anyone can say that and actually mean it, it would be Karen herself.

Once upon a time, the brunette lost someone very close to her, and will always be reminded of him through their daughter.

"I honestly don't know how you do it, Karen." Brooke admits, sinking deeper into the chair, "Don't get me wrong, Lilly's wonderful. She's smart, sassy, and incredibly cute, but I can't even take a walk through this forsaken town without something reminding me of Peyton, and you have this living, breathing, gorgeous little human being to remind you of Keith everyday. I don't know how I'd survive that."

It's the first honest to god conversation she's had with anyone regarding Peyton's death, so when Karen reaches out and touches Brooke's hand, all the brunette wants to do is curl up and cry.

But instead, she squeezes Karen's hand and listens to her.

"I'm not going to say it hasn't been hard, but I get by each day, because I have people who I love around me. If I didn't have Andy with me or Lucas, I'm not sure how I would cope with Keith's death."

Karen's words echo Lucas', when he suggested she move back to Tree Hill and Brooke is about to tell Karen how well she's raised her son, when Nathan steps outside and calls her name.

"Brooke, there's a guy at the front door; he says he's an old friend from LA?" Nathan looks at her unsurely, knowing he's interrupted an important conversation to both women.

She knows it's him and she swallows, wondering why on earth he made his way out here and how he even knew about it, but she can't help the small flutter that settles in her heart when Nathan interrupts them.

She looks over at Karen, about to apologize for cutting their conversation short, but the older woman is already waving her off, "Go, you and I will have plenty of time to talk."

"Are you sure?" Brooke bites her lip, but she's already standing up and when Karen nods in understanding, Brooke squeezes her hand and follows Nathan into the living room.

She doesn't expect him to walk besides her through the house, but he does and when she's about to reach the front door, he grabs her arm gently to turn her around,

"Brooke, are you okay?" He asks, genuine concern etched on his tired features and Brooke almost feels guilty for not acknowledging him properly for everything he's done for her since LA, so she nods and pulls him into an impulsive hug.

The brunettes stand embracing for a few minutes, until Brooke catches Lucas watching them from the corner of the dining room and realizes who is on the other side of the door. So she pulls back and touches Nathan's cheek lovingly,

"I'll be right back and then we can talk, okay?" she tells him softly in her raspy voice that no male within three feet of her can resist and Nathan nods, watching as she slips passed the front door.

It only occurs to him that he didn't ask who she was meeting until he catches his brother's watchful stare just as Lucas turns away.

***

She thinks something must be seriously wrong with her, because here she is at her best friend's wake, more nervous about talking to this man than facing the rest of her life without P. Sawyer in it.

That thought is terrifying of course, but it seems almost surreal, fantastical, difficult to grasp, so Brooke avoids any thoughts of Peyton's absence, preferring instead to focus on this stranger she's drawn to against her will.

He's standing with his back to her, no doubt observing the almost mansions in this swankier part of Tree Hill. She knows he read Lucas' book, so she wonders if he's imaging the Tree Hill from that novel, comparing it to the town as it is today, four years and about ten Starbucks shops later.

"So you decided to come," She says by way of greeting and when he turns around, a flash of admiration passes in his brown eyes, but Brooke is too far away to see, choosing the pillar on the front porch as a soft of shield from Julian's knowing glances.

She realizes she feels exposed around him, even for the short time that they've interacted, but she isn't afraid. She feels exhilarated in his presence, as if she doesn't need to keep her guard up, with his non judgmental eyes around her.

"Yeah," He nods, and the silence ensues, because neither of them knows what to say.

"The service was beautiful." He adds, just to fill in the void and Brooke begins to think it was a bad idea to come outside, it occurs to her then that he'd asked for her specifically.

"Yes it was. So Nathan, he's the guy who you asked to get me-…"

"Brooke, I know who Nathan is, I'm not entirely sport retarded." He says with a half smirk and Brooke immediately relaxes,

"Right, I forgot he recently got drafted."

"Yeah, you're probably wondering why I asked for you huh?"

All of the sudden, he looks nervous, she notes. He's kicking a pebble, scuffing his shoes, and looking anywhere but her.

"Yeah I actually was." She replies, but softly, so he doesn't think she thinks it's weird that he did, even though she does think so.

Mostly, she just doesn't want to scare him off, because she sees the look in his eyes, it's the same one she sported the night they ran into each other, and when Julian asks her if she wants to go grab a drink, she doesn't hesitate in accepting.

Because he's given her a distraction before, and who is she not to return the favor.

***

They end up at The Blue Post and Brooke has to laugh, because despite this being the only bar opened on a Wednesday afternoon, she thinks it's somehow fate's intervention that they find themselves here.

So many of her important moments are associated with this place, it seems only fitting that she would mourn her best friend here.

They sit in the empty bar, both nursing drinks they're not really paying attention to, when Julian's voice breaks through the quietude,

"I think it hit me on the plane ride here." He says softly, watching amber liquid swirl in his glass.

Brooke doesn't say anything, because she knows what he's talking about and decides that if he wants to elaborate, he will.

"I suddenly remembered how it felt to lose her the first time around; I remember feeling so upset, flying to Sundance, thinking I was making a huge mistake letting her go. Now, I wish I hadn't, because now I can't ever get her back and somehow I think it's my fault-…"

"Don't be stupid, Julian." She blurts out accidentally and his sideways glance is indication enough that he's surprised by such a bold comment coming from a complete stranger. But then, Brooke reasons, she knows a lot more about him than he knows, thanks to the long conversations she and Peyton used to have when they were dating, so she'll say what's on her mind.

"What I mean is," she clears her throat, "I don't think it's your fault and I highly doubt Peyton would see it that way."

Julian grimaces involuntarily at the mention of the blonde's name and Brooke throws back a shot, because it's hard for her to acknowledge the reality they've found themselves in and she longs to escape it.

"But what if it is…my fault." His tone is soft, scared almost, trying hard to conceal his deepest fear, and as Brooke watches him from the corner of her eye, her heart breaks all over again, because she isn't sure how to help him.

She doesn't seem to be returning the favor successfully.

"Julian," She reaches out to grasp his hand in a gesture of comfort, but is momentarily silenced by the warmth of his hand, it feels good to have some human contact and she doesn't mind that it's him at all.

"How can you even say that it's your fault? If anything, you probably made her the happiest she's ever been in LA."

Julian looks at her, surprised and Brooke smiles softly, "You think my best friend didn't tell me when she fell in love with a new boy? C'mon Julian give me some credit."

Her tone is playful, but even he can tell that it masks a heavy load of insecurity and guilt, because she is expecting Julian to be surprised, considering how far she and Peyton had drifted apart since her move to New York, and especially after her break up with Julian.

Julian knows this, but doesn't say anything about it, instead he smirks into the bottom of his glass and nods, "I guess I never thought I was important enough to be mentioned, considering I was a footnote in someone else's love story."

His comment is brash and catches Brooke off guard, mostly because of its honesty and familiarity, but it also upsets her, because on this day especially, bitterness has to take a backseat, because today isn't about remembering one's indiscretions or shortcomings, but remembering the goodness of their soul.

Most importantly, Brooke thinks she can't be even more of a shittier friend than she's been and despite it not mattering anymore, she feels the need to defend her best friend, so she says,

"Julian, that is, first of all, not true and second of all, I don't think this is the appropriate time to remember something like that."

Her openness continues to surprise him and vice versa, so as they lock eyes, it almost feels like their locked in a competition of who can outsmart the other.

"Any more appropriate than skipping her wake to get shitfaced?" He quips back and Brooke's jaw tightens.

The bartender is about to approach them for refills, but Brooke stops him with her gaze and sends Julian a narrowed stare, before returning to her empty glass, "You asked me here." She says quietly, demeanor slowly becoming subdued.

"You're right, I am an ass." He admits, pinching the bridge of his nose in exhaustion, "It's just that, on the plane ride here, I realized that I'm never going to see her again, never see her smile, never roll my eyes at her insane musical choices, and I'm never going to smell her perfume again and it's just, it kills me, Brooke."

When he's finished, she's tearing up and wraps an arm around his shoulder, squeezing him closer to her, and in their quasi embrace, they cling to each other, for entirely different reasons.

Julian, because he's finally grasped that Peyton is gone and Brooke, because she realizes Julian still seems to be very much in love with her best friend.

And there's a slight pull on her heart when she realizes this; so when the bartender comes by again, unbeknownst to Julian, who has his head conveniently cast down and buried in her shoulder, she orders a bottle of Jack Daniels and two beers...

***