Numb

For some reason, Lucas couldn't fall back asleep. It was six-thirty in the morning and he didn't need to be up for hours, but something was keeping him from falling back into the peaceful slumber that he'd been abruptly woken from a little while before. He laid there for an hour, staring at the ceiling. It was no use, though; sleep was not coming back to him.

He lifted himself off his bed, treading tiredly towards his desk. Slipping on a sweatshirt, he sat down and turned on his computer. Light was starting to pour through the window, but it was still fairly dark outside. He hadn't been up this early in a long time.

He winced at the bright light radiating from the computer screen and opened up his email to find a new message from Lindsay. He glanced over it quickly. It turned out that Lindsay wanted him to come to New York soon to discuss The Comet. Normally, Lucas was not incredibly fond of his trips to New York, especially now that things were so awkward between him and Lindsay, but today he found that he was actually relieved at the thought of getting away from Tree Hill for a little while. It would be nice to not have to deal with all the Peyton drama for a couple of days.

Thinking of Peyton led to him thinking of Brooke, which then caused him to look over at where his cell phone rested on the side table next to his bed. He stretched over to grab it, hoping to find that she called him back last night. Unfortunately, though, he was met with only the picture of him and Jamie that he kept as a screensaver.

His eyes narrowed in confusion. He'd called Brooke last night at around eight and left her a message. She hadn't called back since then and, even though he hadn't asked her to call back in his message, Brooke always called him back anyway.

He didn't know if he should be worrying. There were many reasons that she couldn't have called him back. Still, there was something in his mind that told him something was off and so, although it was still very early, he decided to call her again.

The phone rang and rang, but, like last night, he got no answer. He brought the phone down to his lap, staring at it blankly. Something wasn't right. He could've been overreacting, but somehow he just knew something was up.

Standing up from his desk and pulling on a pair of jeans, he grabbed his keys and headed outside to his car. He drove to Brooke's house in complete silence, no radio on like he normally would. He only focused on the road, illuminated by the rising sun, and hoped that he was just being paranoid and everything was okay.

His anxiety grew as he saw that her car wasn't in the driveway when he got there. If her car wasn't there, then that meant she most likely wasn't there either. He strode up to the front door, too anxious to knock. If she wasn't home, there was no point in knocking anyway. He twisted the doorknob, but it was locked. He wasn't surprised; Tree Hill wasn't the safe town it used to be.

He had no choice but to knock and so he did. He waited impatiently at the door for a few minutes, but after getting no answer, he was forced to knock again. Still there was no answer. He rang the doorbell anxiously. A few minutes later and there was no sign of Brooke. By now, it was painfully clear that she wasn't home.

He pulled out his phone again, pressing in Brooke's number. Once again, there was no answer. Not knowing what else to do, he walked around the house, looking for any unlocked windows or doors, but found none. The whole house was securely locked up.

Completely frustrated and more anxious than ever, he sat down on the porch. He looked back over at the driveway. Peyton's Comet was nowhere in sight. Maybe she was with Brooke. Feeling suddenly hopeful, he punched in her number and hoped that Peyton could give him some answers.

888

Her eyes sprung open at the sound of her way too loud phone off in the distance. Looking groggily around the room, Peyton's eyes landed on the couch, where her phone sat ringing obnoxiously. She was going to ignore it, but when she recognized the familiar ring tone she'd set for Lucas, she eagerly stood up, rushing over to the couch.

She was in such a hurry to answer the phone that she could barely register the figure who she's stepped over to reach the couch in time.

"Hello?"

"Peyton, it's Lucas."

"I know." She held back a yawn as she fell onto the couch. She glanced out the window to find that the sun was just rising above the horizon. Why was he calling her so early? "What's up?"

"Is Brooke with you?"

"No, I'm at the studio," she answered, confused. "Is she not home?"

"Her car's not here, so I'm assuming she's not. I tried to go inside, but the door is locked."

"There's a spare key hidden under the flower pot with the lilies," Peyton said, thinking quickly. Lucas sounded worried and that made Peyton worry as well.

"Found it," she heard him mutter. "I'm going to check inside, but I really don't think she's here."

"Keep me on the line, Luke. I want to know if she's okay."

Peyton stood up now, pacing around the office. The man on the floor sat up, looking at her curiously.

"What's wrong?"

Peyton shushed him with a flick of her hand. She heard Lucas moving around the house, but there was no indication that he'd found Brooke and she wasn't surprised. She knew the moment Lucas told her that Brooke's car wasn't there that her friend was not at home.

"She's probably at the shop," Peyton said after a few minutes of nothing from Lucas.

"Maybe…" He didn't speak again for a few more seconds and Peyton distracted herself by pulling the shirt she'd thrown off at some point during the night back on. Her jeans were in the corner of the room, a few feet away from Owen's boxers.

She let out a loud groan, the implications of last night finally registering in her mind. This was bad. This was really bad. She's slept with her best friend's ex-boyfriend. Once again, she'd betrayed her best friend and this time it was for a complete loser.

"Is something wrong?" Lucas asked over the line.

"No, no," she mumbled, smoothing out her top. Owen was standing up now, searching for his own clothes.

"Okay, well, I'm gonna go to the shop. She has to be there."

"She probably went in early," Peyton said, trying to find some way to comfort both herself and Lucas. "You know how Brooke gets when she needs a distraction— she becomes a workaholic."

"Yeah…" He didn't sound entirely convinced and she wasn't either. The store didn't open until ten on Thursdays and it was just barely seven. There was no good reason for Brooke to be there that early. "I'll meet you there, okay, Luke?"

"Sure," he muttered distractedly. And then he hung up.

She darted over to her desk, reaching for her purse.

"Is something wrong with Brooke?" she heard Owen ask from behind her. She turned to look at him. He stood there, his clothes wrinkled and his hair messy from sleep, looking much like she felt—worried.

"No," she answered quickly. Brooke was no longer Owen's business. "She's fine."

"Then what was going on?" Owen pushed. He stood at the door, his huge body preventing her from leaving. "It sounded like something was up."

"It's nothing," Peyton said through clenched teeth. "I've got to go, Owen, so please move. Make sure you lock up my office on the way out."

Owen stepped aside, but he didn't look pleased. Peyton just rolled his eyes; this guy really needed to mind his own business.

Before she made her way down the stairs, she turned to look back at Owen. "And just to make it clear, whatever the hell happened last night means absolutely nothing."

"Yeah, fine," Owen muttered, waving her off indifferently.

With that said, she trudged down the stairs, the huge mistake that was her night with Owen temporarily leaving her mind as she thought once again of figuring out what was going on with Brooke.

888

Everything felt numb. Her body, her soul, her mind. And the funny thing was she didn't mind it. It was actually kind of nice not having to suffer through the heartbreak and pain that last night had caused her. Those thoughts were depressing and it was much better to feel numb than to be depressed and feel sorry for herself.

Brooke was lying on her side on the couch that was situated in the middle of her store, her breathes slow and steady. The blinds were pulled over the huge front windows and the windows on the door were covered by blinds as well. In all the time she'd been working there, she'd never felt a need to pull down the dusty blinds before, but when she woke up two hours ago to find herself laying on the cold floor of her store, she didn't want anyone to see the mess that had been left in the wake of her attack and so she finally put them to use.

Her attack. She still couldn't fully comprehend it, but it was true—she'd been attacked, no doubt by someone who was working for her mother. She was pretty sure about that.

Her eyes felt tired and dry as she stared blankly at the pile of clothes that littered the ground in front of her. The stand that had been holding the clothes was knocked over. A shattered mannequin sat next to it. The only other sign of an attack, other than her battered body, of course, was the cash strewn around the counter.

When she'd finally had the strength to get up from her spot on the ground earlier, she'd gone to count the money. Every single piece of money was there— not one penny was missing. And when she'd looked under the counter for her newest designs only to find nothing, she'd known who was behind the attack.

For only a second she'd allowed herself to wonder how her mother could be so evil, but she'd quickly tossed the thought aside because she'd never be able to understand it. There was no point in trying to figure out her mother. Instead, she'd busied herself by putting away the money and pulling down the blinds. People would walk by in the morning and if she left them open, then they'd see the mess in the middle of her shop and most likely would call the police.

After she'd done that, she walked slowly into one of the dressing rooms in the back. She'd taken a long, shaky breath before looking at herself in the full length mirror. The bruises had already started to show themselves and she'd only been able to look at herself for a few seconds before looking away. The purplish color that had formed around her eyes haunted her, as well as the very visible bruise around her right arm— a handprint. Her legs were covered with bruises as well, but these ones were not as bad. The worst one of all, even though it was surprisingly the least visible, was the one around her neck. It reminded her of her attacker's hands squeezing around her throat, cutting off her supply of oxygen. Just thinking about it now made it hard for her to breathe.

She'd been completely drained after looking at herself. The realization of what had happened to her hit her like a ton of bricks and she'd finally let herself cry as she collapsed onto the couch. She'd cried for what felt like hours. She cried for herself and for her newly formed hatred for her mother. She'd cried for the bruises that ran over her body and for the designs she'd lost. And when it felt like she'd cried all the tears that her body could make, she calmed down and simply laid there.

That was when the feeling of numbness had come over her. That was when she'd decided that feeling nothing was better than mulling over the hard reality of what had happened to her. She couldn't even bear to think of it anymore; it was just too hard.

And that left her where she was now, lying on the couch, her expression blank and uncaring. This was what her mother had done to her. She hoped that getting her hands on the designs was worth losing her daughter over.

Brooke looked over at the door. She needed to leave soon if she was to escape back to her house unnoticed. Sunshine peeked through the blinds and she knew it was morning and that people would be bustling around the streets soon. Still, she couldn't bring herself to get up. If she went home, she'd run into Peyton or someone else and she couldn't deal with that right now. She just wanted to be alone.

Then she heard someone outside. She recognized a low, worried sounding voice and she hoped that it wasn't who she thought it was. The voice came closer and soon she saw a shadow right outside the door. She saw the doorknob twist and his shadow grew bigger as the imprint of his head appeared through the blinds and onto the floor.

She heard him pound on the door and call out her name, but she stayed put, ignoring his calls.

She couldn't let him see her like this.

888

Lucas let out a huge sigh of relief when he saw Brooke's car parked in front of her shop. She had to be there.

He parked his car behind hers, jumping out of it and striding over to the door. He was surprised to see that both the window and door were blocked by blinds. There was no way he could see inside. He'd been with Brooke when she closed before and she'd never pulled these blinds down before, which didn't do anything to ease his anxiety.

"I'm here, Peyton," he said into his phone. "It looks like she's here, but everything's locked."

"I'll be there in a few minutes," Peyton responded and he hung up once again.

His hand went to the doorknob, but, not to his surprise, it was locked. His face pressed up against the window, trying to peek inside. He couldn't make out anything. He let out an aggravated sigh as he took a step back from the door.

"Come on, Brooke," he murmured.

He paced the sidewalk, running a hand anxiously through his buzzed hair. He looked around for a spare key, but found nothing. This was getting very frustrating. He hated that he had no idea if she was okay or not. He hated that if she was in trouble, he couldn't get to her. He felt like he was letting her down.

Unable to contain his frustration any longer, he strode back over to the door, pounding his fists on it relentlessly.

"Open the door, Brooke!"

If he hit it any harder, the window would definitely break and he was wondering if that would be a bad thing. After all, it would get him inside. But he knew he couldn't break Brooke's window and so he forced himself to stop his knocking.

He groaned angrily, pulling out his phone again and calling Brooke for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. She didn't answer. His fingers gripped the phone tightly as he resisted the urge to throw it. She was in there and something was wrong and he couldn't do anything about it. The only thing stopping him was the door.

So he started pounding at the glass again, this time not caring if the glass broke or not.

888

Why wouldn't Lucas just go away? He'd been at the door for ten minutes now, pounding the door with his fists and calling out her name, begging her to let him in. Didn't he get the picture? She didn't want to let him in. She couldn't let him in. He just couldn't see her like this.

She was ashamed. It was as simple as that. She couldn't bear to think of him or anyone else close to her seeing her like this. It would prove to them that she was weak, that she couldn't fight her own battles. They'd all give her their sympathy and pity, but she didn't want that. She just wanted to be the strong and proud Brooke Davis that she'd always been. But she knew by now that after last night, that girl was gone, at least for now, and she had no idea if she would ever come back.

Brooke knew she was being stubborn. Lucas would help her, not pity her. He would be there for her and take care of her, not look down at her. So why couldn't she just open the door and let him in?

The answer was easy—because of all the people she knew, she was scared most of the way Lucas Scott made her feel. Letting him into her store right now would be in essence the same as letting him into her heart and therefore letting him see her in her most vulnerable state.

And she learned a long time ago that she would never let Lucas Scott into her heart ever again.

888

When Peyton pulled up to the store, Lucas was pounding furiously on the front door. She rushed over to him, grabbing him by the shoulder.

"You're gonna break the window."

He keeled over, trying to catch his breath, and shook his head. "She's in there, Peyton."

Peyton's eyes traveled back to the shop, confused at the sight of the blinds that blocked anyone from seeing inside.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Then why hasn't she opened the door?" She didn't understand why Brooke would choose to ignore their calls if she was inside.

"I don't know." He sighed, leaning against the window in defeat. "Something has to be wrong."

Peyton didn't want to agree with him, but she knew it was true. She leaned next to him. He looked more worried than she'd ever seen him. If a complete stranger had come here to help Lucas out, they would've guessed that Lucas was looking for someone who was much more than a friend. Her eyes narrowed at the thought; did he have feelings for Brooke that went beyond friendship?

And then reality set in and she felt like kicking herself for even worrying about that at a time like this. Something was wrong with her best friend and here she was seriously wondering if the reason Lucas was so intent on finding Brooke was because he had feelings for her. Brooke was his friend too and he cared a lot about her, something that Peyton completely understood. She had no right to wonder what his intentions were with Brooke.

"What are we gonna do, Lucas?" she asked as she pushed herself off the window and began pacing back and forth. She couldn't sit here anymore; she needed to do something.

"I'm about ready to break down the door, to be honest," he answered.

Peyton just threw up her hands. "Then what are we waiting for?"

888

Peyton was outside now, too. Brooke could hear her talking with Lucas. How did they even know to come here? Brooke quickly decided that that was a stupid question; Peyton had probably noticed that she never came home last night. She'd never called Lucas back either, which of course would make him suspicious. She always called him back.

Her eyes traveled back to the door. Lucas' silhouette was back on the floor, along with Peyton's. She watched as the outlines grew larger and larger and then, without any warning, crashed into the door. She sat up, eyes narrowing. Where they trying to knock down her door? She almost smiled at that; her friends were too good to her— crazy, but good.

A moment later, Lucas and Peyton repeated their actions and Brooke was left shaking her head in amusement. This wasn't the time to laugh, but she couldn't help it. Imagining her two best friends ramming themselves into the door was too funny to resist.

Her smile faded a second later as she realized that it was pointless to try to keep them away. They were obviously very worried about her and it was wrong to keep them in the dark. It would hurt to open up to them and show them what happened, but it was stupid to hide away and pretend that nothing was wrong.

Because something was wrong and she would only hurt herself more by closing them off. She knew that both the physical and emotional bruises that had resulted from last night would take a long time to fade. It would be a long and hard journey, but she couldn't do it alone and she was foolish to let her pride and shame get in the way of that.

So she stood up and walked slowly over to the door, preparing herself for the pain that was sure to come.

888

Lucas clenched his fists together in anger. His eyes were narrowed into tiny slits as he stared down the door. It was too strong for them to knock down. He needed to break the window. He'd worry about the damage later.

He walked to the door, his eyes penetrating the window. Peyton asked him what he was doing, but he ignored her. He slowly raised his fists. And then one blind creeped open and he saw the distinct brownish hazel that was her eye staring back at him.

"Brooke," he murmured, relief spreading through every fiber of his being. Peyton appeared next to him, her face twisted up in confusion. The blind closed a second later and he and Peyton both waited in silence.

Then the lock clicked and the door slowly opened and he took a step back, unsure of what to expect. A gasp sounded from Peyton as the door completely opened and his face fell at the sight in front of him.

She stood there, battered and bruised, and he felt tears well up in his eyes. Her face was void of any sort of emotion, but his heart was breaking as he looked at her.

And then Peyton spoke. "Brooke, what happened to you?"

A/N: I know a lot of you wanted Lucas to find Brooke unconscious at her store, but the way I planned this chapter Brooke needed to be conscious and aware when he found her. She's dealing with the conflicting emotions of wanted to keep people out and hiding this from her friends and I wanted to deal with that right away. I think it's really important that Brooke opens up to them of her own free will and that's what she's going to do. One thing I hated in the show was that Brooke hid from everyone. And that's understandable, but I think the story would have been so much more emotional if she had opened up to her friends about it and actually told them (I know she told Peyton, but on screen that was all we got and that wasn't how it should have gone). Anyway, I don't know if what I just said makes any sense, but that's why I wrote this chapter the way I did.

Also, I know a lot of you would have preferred that Peyton wasn't there with Lucas to find her, but I felt like Peyton being there was sort of necessary. Right now, the story isn't just about Brucas, it's about the Breyton friendship too, which will be pretty predominant in this story.

Anyway, I just wanted to make all that clear. I hope I don't lose any readers because of that!

Thanks so much for reading and please review!

Lena: I'm glad you enjoyed last chapter. I know this chapter didn't have a ton of Brucas, but I hope you liked it anyway. The next few chapters will definitely have some more of them. I'm also glad that you liked that I kept the attack storyline in here. Ever since watching the whole storyline unfold on the show, I knew it should have been done differently. I think it had so much potential to be a very powerful storyline and in ways it was, but it could have been so much more. I mean, if we go by what we see on the show, Peyton, Deb, and Sam are the only ones who know about the attack. It was just handled horribly, just like all of season six has been handled. And yes, I agree, the stair excuse was just stupid. It was almost as bad as the dog eating Dan's heart… Anyway, my point is that I'm going to try my best to handle this storyline better than they did on the show, which shouldn't be incredibly hard ;). Thanks so much for reviewing!