I had to watch the LP wedding to do this chapter….oh my goodness SO MUCH CRAP. I was embarrassed as a viewer. As an intellectual being, I was insulted. Firstly, I and everyone who reads my fic should send out a special thank you to the fabulous Corey (BRUCAS123) who once again took my amateur attempt at writing and fixed all the embarrassing grammar mistakes that make it a wonder that I ever got out of high school. And you should all read her fics, which oh so PWN mine.

Many thanks to all of you who reviewed! I love you guys and couldn't (wouldn't) do this without you! I also want to thank everyone who acknowledged the fact that I'm not trying to vilify Peyton! Honestly, I hate her character but I am trying to write her in character. If anyone thinks I'm not doing so, that I'm writing her out of character to boost up the BL relationship, please let me know so I can avoid being like Mark. KThanks.

Enjoy and please review!

Title: Something I Can Never Have

Disclaimer: Considering my aim of this fic is realism and consistency, it is safe to say that I have absolutely nothing to do with the actual world of One Tree Hill. The Title and lyrics are products of the amazing Nine Inch Nails.

xx

Italics are thoughts or lyrics

Bolded Italics are...memories

xx

I still recall the taste of your tears,
Echoing your voice just like the ringing in my ears.
My favorite dreams of you still wash ashore.
Scraping through my head until I don't wanna sleep
Anymore.

B&L

"Do you have any idea how lucky you are to be behind this glass right now?"

When Lucas Scott woke up this morning, he didn't feel the least bit rested. He'd had the most uncomfortable night's sleep he can remember. Sleep wasn't a luxury he experienced these past few months. In fact, he'd avoided it—going out for jogs in the middle of the night, drinking coffee at irregular hours. But cursed is the human, with the need for unconsciousness; where the world and all that one knew could dissolve and deform into unimaginable horrors.

For Lucas Scott, last night had been the worst of it.

He watched in horror from afar, an invisible force holding him back as he fought with all his might to try and save her, the terrified screams pulling at the pit of his stomach. Suddenly, there was silence. The masked attacker he knew as John Daniels continued to lay on top of her, looking up at Lucas with cold, sadistic eyes. Lucas fought harder against the force, wanting nothing more than to rip his masked head off. The assailant stepped off from Brooke, who continued to lay motionless on the ground, surrounded by pools of her own blood. John reached up and unmasked himself. Lucas immediately felt his knees buckle under him. The unmasked man was himself.

Brooke turned and glared accusingly at him.

"You did this to me!"

Everything around him is gray. The stone walls are gray; the bar cells are gray. Even the fucking chair is gray. Lucas idly wonders why they would choose such a murky color for a place like this. It's ... stale, dirty—channeling a sense of hopelessness. Such a dull color. Not ominous, not exciting, not calming—just ... stoic. Emotionless. He supposes it's to offset the fear, desperation, and sadness that he can practically smell in the visiting families cluttered around him. He looks up at the man that has haunted his dreams for almost two months of restless nights. John Daniels sits motionless across from him, a glass window separating the criminals from the visiting innocent. And a booth: gray.

"You son of a bitch." He grits out, trying to control the urge to break through the barrier between his hands and John's neck.

Lucas had restrained himself from seeing him before now, wanting to wait until he calmed down before he did something he'd regret. Well, that had been Haley's advice, anyway. The day after his fight with Brooke, he'd marched straight to Haley and exploded. All the frustrations, all the pain, all the guilt spilled out of him. His best friend had bared it and as always—she calmed him down. He doesn't know what he would have done if it weren't for his sister-in-law.

Lucas meets John's eyes. They're cold, unfeeling—void of regret.

He would have killed him.

"All I can think of doing is making you feel every single ounce of pain that you put her through." He's never felt this way before. The only other time that he felt this violent towards someone was when he found out that Dan killed Keith. He was a child then and he couldn't bring himself to take another man's life. But he's older now—wiser, he'd like to think. And ridding the world of filth like the man sitting in front of him really doesn't sound like a scary thing anymore.

"Brooke, please baby, I'm here now."

"But I suppose it's lucky for me that I can't reach you. I have a baby on the way and doing what I feel like doing now really wouldn't bode well for my family." He rakes shaking fingers through his hair in bitter frustration.

Brooke was the one to send this fucker to jail herself. In a way, she'd protected him, again.

He'd broken free. He finally broke free of the invisible barrier keeping him from saving his Pretty Girl. He ran to her, faster than he's ever run in his life and finally reaching her, enveloped her in his arms.

"It's okay, Pretty Girl. I'm here. You're safe, now." He pulled back and smiled down at her only to frown in horror at what he saw. Blood—there was too much blood. "Brooke?" he said desperately, shaking her roughly, trying to get her to open her eyes. "Come on, Pretty Girl. Wake up." He shook her again, this time more forcefully. "Brooke, please baby, I'm here now." His vision blurred by tears. But no matter how long he tried to wake her, she remained limp in his arms.

He was too late.

She was dead.

Lucas stands from his seat and leans towards the glass. His features harden; his eyes burn with fury and the promise of vengeance. He grits his teeth to try and calm himself down.

"You better hope and pray that our paths never cross."

John blinks up at him blankly and Lucas wonders if he's capable of feeling anything at all.

"Cause if you do, I will tear you limb from limb, do you understand me?"

John continues to stare, unperturbed and for a moment, Lucas loses it and punches the window. He doesn't even feel the sting of the impact. He just wants to see the bastard cower in fear.

"Hey!" A guard rushes over to Lucas and pulls him away from the booth. "Don't make me arrest you for attempted assault." He grumbles, pulling a seething Lucas out of the visiting area. Lucas looks back at John who is being led to his cell and meets his eyes. Rage explodes in his blue depths. The monster is smirking.

The officer brings Lucas out to the front desk and gives him an annoyed look.

"Mind telling me what that was about?"

Lucas doesn't answer. He looks away from the stranger and tries to calm himself down. It wouldn't do anyone good to get arrested so close to the wedding.

"He hurt someone you love, didn't he? Someone you cared for very deeply." Lucas meets his eyes and in place of the annoyance that was there seconds ago is understanding. "Is she dead?"

The officer's bluntness surprises him but he still manages to shake his head. His ears prickle painfully at the thought of Brooke dying.

"You did this to me!"

The police man nods in understanding. "Look, I know you're feeling an overwhelming urge to make him pay. But son, believe me when I tell you that the best thing for you to do is be with your loved one and thank God that you still have her." Lucas inhales sharply. "You can make enough memories that'll completely outweigh what's happened."

Lucas almost cries. He wants so much to make memories with her. "But what if I can't?" He knows he can't. "What if I can't make this better for her?"

He can't get the image of her dead body out of his mind.

"You've got your whole life ahead of you." The guard places his hands on Lucas' shoulder, "So long as you have that, there's always hope."

B&L

You always were the one to show me how,
Back then I couldn't do things that I could do now.

Peyton Sawyer walks through the doors of Clothes Over Bros, spotting her childhood best friend working her magic and selling a dress that she knows costs more than a month's worth of pay. The customer's skeptical face turns into one of excitement and a moment later, the short red head is exchanging her next month's rent for a dress she'll probably only wear a single time in her life. She watches the girl leave the shop, looking like she'd just discovered an elixir to immortality.

"You could start your own cult following," she jokes, turning to Brooke who wears a proud smile on her face.

"Ha, ha. Your sarcastic cracks won't work today P. Sawyer-soon-to-be-Scott because sales are shooting up and it's all thanks to my persuasive talents."

Peyton laughs. It always amazes her how Brooke seems to get everything she ever wants. She could convince a jock to try out for the lead position of the MathLeagues, if she felt like it.

"So, you excited to finally be tying the knot? You realize this is like, 6 years overdue, right?"

Peyton smiles nervously, "That's what I came here to talk to you about."

Brooke's eyes immediately widen. She circles around the counter and grabs her friend's arms, shaking her lightly.

"Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer, don't you dare even think of cancelling the wedding!"

"What?! No! It's not that!"

Brooke exhales deeply, as though she'd just regained the very ability to breathe. Her body sags as she leans back on the counter and her face takes on the most relieved expression Peyton's ever seen.

"Oh, thank God. I put in way too much blood, sweat and tears into making this happen for you P. Sawyer. Do you know how many times I redid your wedding dress?"

Peyton bites her lower lip. She knows how much time and effort Brooke put into this wedding. She'd planned every detail, called the best catering service and best florists, and spent hours matching the colors. With the amount of effort she put into the planning, anyone would think this was her wedding.

"I would have killed you if you changed your mind." Peyton realizes Brooke's still rambling. "Well, maybe not you, but I would've killed someone." She pauses, "Maybe Luke?" She says thoughtfully before shaking her head and looking her friend straight in the eye. "Anyway, point is, you cannot do this to me. Or to yourself. You're finally together, Peyton. Let yourself be happy."

Peyton looks her in the eye, a lump in her throat forms as she struggles to curb her tears. Damn hormones. For the past several months she's been feeling agitated, worried—suspicious. The sight of Brooke has been making the hairs stand on end and the back of her neck prickle with an unknown emotion. For a long time, she couldn't pin point exactly what this foreign feeling was—until this morning. As soon as she woke up, the first thought that entered her mind was that this would be the last day before she finally marries the love of her life. The second was the suspicious behavior of her maid of honor and fiancé the past couple of months. They'd been avoiding each other like the plague, making up numerous excuses to not be in the same room together. As Peyton's mind swirled with reasons for their strange behavior, she realized what this new feeling was: insecurity.

"You and Lucas haven't spoken in a while," she comments, making sure her voice is void of any sign of her unease.

Brooke freezes, then a second later, she relaxes, a small smile plastered on her face. Peyton isn't sure if it's genuine. "We've just been busy, sweetie."

"We've all been busy. Yet Nathan and Haley still found ways to see him. And you didn't seem to have any trouble hanging out with them."

Brooke remains quiet, unsure of what to say. She feels terrible that her best friend feels suspicious so close to her wedding day. Brooke knows what that felt like; she can't let Peyton go through it.

"Is it about that night?" The blonde asks and Brooke tenses up again.

Peyton never mentioned 'that night' to her before. Brooke had figured that Lucas worked his magic and convinced her that it was nothing. It was nothing, she reminds herself. She looks up at her best friend, the girl she loves most in the entire world, and desperately tries to think of a way to handle the situation. This time, however, she can't seem to recompose herself.

She nods stiffly.

Peyton's heart quickens. She can already feel her palms sweat and her entire body heat with fear.

"Did something happen between you two?" She chokes out, not sure she wants to know the answer.

Brooke's eyes widen in shock. "No!" She rushes towards her friend and places two hands on her shoulders looking her directly in the eyes. "No, no, nothing like that, P. Sawyer, I promise. I would never do that to you, you know that."

Peyton looks back into her eyes and nods. She does know that. "Then what's going on, Brooke? Why are you two avoiding each other?"

Brooke sighs and lets her hands drop from her friend. "We ... fought. And..." She can't tell her the truth. "I said he was like Dan."

This time, it's Peyton's eyes that widen. "What? Why would you do that?"

Brooke bites the inside of her cheek. "Because ... because he was pushing for more information about that night and he just really pissed me off. I wanted to shut him up."

It's partially the truth.

Her best friend sighs. "B, I love you but you know how much it hurts Lucas to be compared to him."

The brunette nods, ashamed. It's one of the reasons she's been avoiding him. She can't look him in the eye because of the shame she feels for comparing him to the man who killed his real father.

"I know."

They stand in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts, when Peyton decides to voice some of her fears. She's been avoiding this question for as long as she can remember, not wanting to deal with the consequences of what she suspects is going to be a positive answer.

"Do you ... love him?" As soon as she asks it, she wishes she could take it back. She shouldn't have opened this can of worms again. They're all finally happy—finally on the same side. She doesn't want to have to hurt her best friend again.

Brooke looks up at her in shock. Her breath hitches and her skin starts to redden with fear. What the hell should she say to that? Tell her the truth, her mind whispers. Give her back some of that 'honesty' she used on you. Brooke looks into Peyton's eyes. She sees the unease, the fear, and the pure desperation in them. She sees herself in them. She remembers high school and the unbearable pain that came along with Peyton's confession; the pain that she nearly killed herself trying to hide. The pain that she kept from everyone, to the point where she'd even convinced herself she didn't love him anymore. Now is not the time to go back on her plan. But it's so exhausting to pretend. They're older now and Peyton is getting married; and they're starting a family. But the pain is still there. She'd never want to put Peyton in that position. She deserves it. The insecurity and fear would tear her apart, like it did to Brooke all those years ago. But Lucas says he loves you. Lucas is an idiot.

"Of course not." She says with a smile, and Peyton's relieved face tells her that that was the right answer. "We haven't been together in over 5 years, Pey. And those 5 years, he spent pining over you." Peyton smiles slightly. "Why would you think that?"

The blonde shrugs. She's relieved of Brooke's answer but not entirely convinced.

"It's just that ... you spent so much time on this wedding." She hesitates in continuing, "And I thought, maybe that's because you want it to be your wedding."

Brooke molds her face to a look of sympathy, successfully hiding the shock of hearing Peyton voice her most secret dream. A dream that Brooke refused to let even herself think about.

"Oh honey," she embraces the blonde in a tight hug. "Of course, I was going to freak out over every detail of this wedding. You're my Peyton and this is the most important day of your life." Brooke rubs her back, relieved that her best friend seems to be calming down. "And I couldn't exactly leave the details up to you. No offense, but I can't quite picture you spending hours mixing and matching colors of flowers and tablecloths."

Peyton laughs as she wipes her tears, feeling much better than she did five minutes ago and feeling silly for ever thinking there was a problem. She's glad she came to talk to her friend.

"Besides," Brooke catches her eyes again. "I spent just as much time on the Naley wedding years ago." She quirks her eyebrow, "Given your logic, I'm also secretly in love with Nathan." She pauses, "Or Haley."

Peyton laughs and hugs her friend. "I love you, B. Davis."

Brooke hugs her back. "Love you, too, P. Sawyer-soon-to-be-Scott."

B&L

You make this all go away;
You make it all go away;
I'm down to just one thing:
And I'm starting to scare myself.

Lucas stares at himself in the full length mirror of the closet in the groom's preparation room. He feels sluggish, still not believing he is about to do this. His arms are weak, feeling like lead, as he wears the over coat of his wedding suit. His wedding. The words sound hollow in his head. His previous wedding with Lindsey didn't exactly go as planned; and this time, a small part of him is hoping that this occasion is dealt the same fate. I'm just like Dan.

And he hates himself for it. He hates himself because he knows he's doing the right thing but that isn't enough to give him peace. He hates himself for having feelings for someone other than the mother of his child. He hates himself for these thoughts that he sees as— knows are—a betrayal to his baby. He already loves his child so much and wants him or her to grow up in a loving, secure home. And ... he loves Peyton. You. Love. Peyton. He does. He wouldn't have chosen her that night at the airport otherwise. There must be something there, something that keeps pushing him towards her—just like Brooke said.

Brooke. He's back to her again. It seems no matter how hard he tries, he can never escape her.

Hero Complex. That's how she'd described his feelings towards her. Maybe she's right. After all, the last time he was in love with Brooke Davis, the last time he felt this intensely towards her, was years ago. He'd felt some more-than-platonic emotions for her the past year but he chalked that up to remnants of their time together. He knows he's always going to have some feelings for her but how could they suddenly resurface so forcefully? It must just be the guilt, he reasons. He's tried justifying it over these past two months, tried to reason through his confusion. Tried to understand his longing for her. But no matter how much he twists it around in his head, his heart just won't listen.

The heart has reasons that reason cannot know.

Hadn't he said that once, to describe his feelings for Brooke? No one ever really understood their relationship. Heck, they didn't even understand it themselves. But it was real. He was sure of that, at least. But ... after five years? No, it doesn't make sense. He takes a deep breath and pulls himself up, holding his posture straight and confident. These feelings had to be induced by his need to protect, his need to take care of those he loves.

He squints as he stares into the mirror. Hard. I don't love Brooke, he thinks, I just want to save Brooke. He straightens himself again and takes another deep breath, squinting harder. I don't love Brooke, I just want to—

He suddenly sags and all the air rushes out of him. He can't do this. It feels strange to even think of Brooke as someone who needs saving. It was never about that with her when they were together. He loved her bubbly, excitable presence without the tragedy he'd always romanticized as a child.

Still, he forces himself to accept this logic and goes on hating himself. He knows that these feelings—whatever their origin—will cause nothing but pain. Why does his love cause so much devastation to so many people? What is wrong with him?

The dressing room door creaks, a sign of someone entering the room, disrupting his session of self-loathing. He looks up into the mirror and his eyes meet a pair of hazel-green irises he hasn't seen in what feels like a lifetime. The same hazel-green eyes and brunette tresses that are the reason why he resents this day so much.

There is silence. Silence has been a common theme for them over the past several months. Brooke stands behind him, unable to tear her eyes away. She hasn't been able to stare into those blue depths for months and they still have the effect of drawing her in and making the world around her disappear.

"Peyton is ecstatic." She says to break the tension. Her voice is light and bubbly. It sounds like nails on a chalk board to her own ears. "I've never seen her so happy."

She trails off and they're once again engulfed in a deafening quiet, both fearing what they might say if they dare to speak. Lucas still hasn't turned to look at her directly. He keeps staring at her through the mirror, his eyes occasionally sliding down her body, drinking her in. Brooke doesn't mind. She just hopes to God he doesn't turn around. Right now, the mirror is a poor reflection of the reality. It acts like a protective shield—one that they both desperately needed to hold on to. The mirror is a barrier. The mirror is safe.

"A part of me..." He looks away from her and swallows his nervousness before meeting her eyes again—through the mirror. "A part of me still wants to stop this ... wants to just run away and start over with you."

"Lucas—"

"I know." He shakes his head. He doesn't want them to fight. "I'm just telling you how I feel."

Brooke remains quiet, mentally berating herself for putting them in this position. Even talking like this is wrong. She shouldn't have come.

"Peyton came by yesterday." She decides it's best to ignore his confession. She needs him to focus on his wife. "She's suspicious of us."

"Why would she be suspicious?" He glares at her. "There's nothing going on."

"Of course there isn't." She says this with such conviction that it makes him cringe.

He looks away again, looking like he'd just been kicked in the gut."Then what is she suspicious about?"

"She was wondering why we were ignoring each other so much."

Lucas grunts but doesn't look at her. He wishes she would have just kept on ignoring him. He wishes she wouldn't have come. Her being this close, after so long without contact, he doesn't know if he'll be able to control himself. He grabs a tie and starts to distract himself.

"She asked me if I love you," she says suddenly, causing Lucas to halt his movements.

Goosebumps cover his entire body. He turns to her and Brooke's breath hitches in her throat. His eyes are wide and shocked, desperate and ... hopeful.

"What'd you say?" His voice shakes. He's terrified of her answer.

Brooke shrugs, trying to control herself from breaking. She wishes he'd look in the mirror again.

"I told her she was insane."

His heart nearly stops and the warm tingling disappears. He looks at her with obvious pain in his eyes, and she looks back at him. But her eyes are completely empty.

"Were you being serious or were you just manipulating her like you did before?"

She looks away and doesn't answer. Lucas sighs and lets his hands fall from where he was fiddling with his tie. He runs a hand over his tired face and looks at her. Leaning against the wall, her wedding attire in a bag sitting at her side, she looks exhausted.

"Why did you come, Brooke?"

"I don't..." Why did she come? Maybe you were hoping he'd convince you to run away? Brooke silences the voice in her head. Tears spring to her eyes as she looks up at him, pleading. "I don't want you to hate me."

Before he can think his actions through, Lucas walks towards her and embraces her in a tight hug.

She tenses at his touch but as he tightens his hold around her with his face buried in her neck, her body seems to melt into his by its own accord.

"Pretty girl," he whispers, making her shiver. "I could never hate you." He takes a deep, shaky breath. He loves this feeling: the feeling of being so close to her. "I love-"

"Don't."

He lifts his face from her neck and softly nuzzles the side of her head. She smells—feels like heaven. He wants to kiss her.

"You can't help who you love, Brooke." He moves an inch and nuzzles her cheek. He's going to kiss her.

"No. But you can control what you do about it." Lucas freezes. She always knows how to ruin the moment. He huffs in frustration but doesn't let her go. He wishes she wasn't so damn stubborn. So loyal.

His heart aches. He loves her loyalty.

"Besides," she starts again after a moment. "You don't love me."

He sighs and moves away from her face, burying his nose into her hair. He's always loved the smell of lavender. "Right."

"You don't."

"Okay."

They stand there for a moment longer, feeling more at peace than they have in over two months. Lucas takes a deep breath, inhaling as much of her intoxicating aroma as he can, before he hastily lets go of her and turns around, putting as much distance between them as possible.

Brooke stands rooted to her spot, angry and more embarrassed than she's ever been. She reached for him. She hadn't meant to do it but as soon as he started pulling away, her arms shot towards him trying to keep him close before her brain caught up with her actions. She hates herself even more, knowing that he noticed. She watches him try to fix his tie. His whole body is turned away from her, and it's obvious that he's trying to ignore her presence.

Lucas fiddles with the tie for what seems like the hundredth time. What is wrong with this damn thing? He can feel Brooke staring at him from behind. He wishes she would just leave. His heart beats painfully against his chest. He shouldn't feel this way. He's getting ready for his wedding—his second one—with his fiancé—another blonde—and all he wants to do is run away with the brunette beauty standing so hesitantly behind him. Part of him wishes she would just leave. But the bigger part still just wants to kiss her. The tie gets tangled in a knot and Lucas growls in frustration before flinging it across the room.

Brooke sighs before she goes and picks up the abandoned accessory, making her way towards Lucas who is breathing raggedly. She softly turns him towards her and starts to do it up for him.

"You had to go all Broody right before the big ceremony, didn't you?" Her tone is light, playful. Lucas looks down at her in silence, eyes burning with desire. They're so close, he'd only have to swoop down an inch and he would have her again. Brooke concentrates on the task at hand, making a point not to look up.

"You know, once you see her walk down that aisle, I promise you, Luke, you're going to be the happiest man alive." She pauses and Lucas watches a frown form on her beautiful face. She takes a step back from him and tilts her head to the side, examining his attire.

"What idiot gave you this tie to wear?"

Lucas arches his eyebrow. "I did."

She huffs in frustration. "That figures."

He frowns and looks down at the dark olive green tie. "What's wrong with it?"

"It doesn't match!"

"Everything matches with black. You told me that."

"Well, this looks like crap." She looks around for another tie. "Where the hell is your best man?"

"He ran out after Jamie."

"Of all the useless—" she stops herself and takes a deep breath, looking rattled. Lucas smiles in amusement.

"This isn't funny!"

"It's just a tie, Brooke."

She looks at him in shock. "It's your WEDDING SUIT!"

"Right. Sorry. Don't know what I was thinking."

"Okay, okay. This is okay. We just have to...stay calm. No need to panic."

Lucas gives her a dry look. One that clearly communicated the question, who's panicking?

"Let me just—" Her face lights up. Idea! She runs to her bag, still in the place she left it, and rummages through.

"Aha!" She pulls out a black bow tie and holds it over her head like a prize. Lucas chuckles at her excitement as she bounces back over to him.

"Here." She fixes it around his neck, giving it a pat once she's done it up. She pulls at and straightens out his collar, patting his chest a little more than she should. "And one more thing." She digs through her purse and pulls out a pair of gold cuff links, securing them to the sleeves of his shirt. "There. I knew they would come in handy." She smiles at her handiwork. "It's a good thing you're so predictable, Broody."

"It's a good thing you know me so well."

She meets his eyes and is taken aback by the intensity burning in them.

"I..." she sighs and calms herself down. Her body sags and Lucas knows the playful mood is over.

Before she can react, he leans down and kisses her forehead. His lips linger there for a moment before pulling away. Brooke's eyes flutter open and she meets his ocean blues once more. They stare at each other for a long time, so close but not touching, before she takes a step back.

"Make her happy, Lucas. And you be happy too, okay?" She tilts her head to the side, her features encouraging and soft. "You love her. You two wouldn't have gotten this far if you didn't. You'll remember that in a couple of hours."

Lucas nods slowly. She smiles at him—there are no dimples—and leaves.

~*~

She lied.

The sun is shining exceptionally bright as the wedding ceremony moves along. Brooke leads a glowing Peyton down the garden path towards him. Any man in his position would feel as though they were on cloud nine. He should be happier than he's ever been. Brooke should have been right. But despite the beauty, despite the happiness surrounding him, Lucas can't feel a thing. He's completely numb, which is a hell of a lot better than the confusion and hatred he's felt for what feels like a lifetime. After she'd left, there had been two separate occasions where he had to restrain himself from running after her and begging her to run away with him. He'd imagined showing up at her door step and whisking her away to wherever they can finally be together. But he resisted the urge. For his child and, despite the way he feels about Brooke, he'd never want to hurt Peyton. She'd never allow it, anyway. His eyes lock with hazel green, not caring if anyone notices, and she stares right back. Her smile grows brighter and even though he knows it's meant to be reassuring, he feels as though she's mocking him. How can she be so calm, so unfazed when he was ready to collapse? His heart breaks a little more when, once again, he realizes that Brooke never loved him as much as he loved her. Where he would wallow in self-pity for weeks on end whenever they broke up, she'd be on her next boy target the next morning. For her, he is so easy to get over, so easily forgotten. He's pathetic.

Peyton stands in front of him and the first thought that runs through his mind is how beautiful Brooke would look in this dress.

He can faintly recognize Haley's voice in the jumbled chaos of his mind. But a single shaky breath catches his attention and he realizes, suddenly, that Brooke is crying. Despite himself, his heart expands with pleasure. Maybe she does care? Maybe this is just as hard on her as it is on him? He tries to catch her eyes over Peyton's head but it's too difficult with his bride staring so intently at him. Even if he did manage to look, he knows he'd never catch Brooke's eyes—she won't even look up.

He concentrates as he tries to make out the expression on her face out of the corner of his eyes. Her head is bent low; her cheeks are overflowing with tears. She looks so broken, so vulnerable that Lucas immediately feels ashamed for hoping she would feel even an ounce of the pain he'd been feeling. He wants her to go back to not caring, back to being happy and bubbly and the Brooke Davis that he has always loved. He needs her to stop crying. Even if that means she doesn't love him as much or she's finally over him—he wants to go back.

Haley's voice suddenly booms across the garden.

"I believe in true love."

"You never really loved me, Luke."

"I believe in love at first sight."

"…nothing more than a footnote."

He shuts his eyes and inhales, deeply. That's all she believes they were. That's all he made her believe she was to him. It was he who made her think so little about herself; his selfishness is what caused all the pain and insecurities that nearly destroyed her all those years ago. And now that selfishness is pushing her to believe the contrary, confusing her even more and making the pain he inflicted even worse.

Even after all these years, he still manages to hurt her. Even now, as a mature adult, as a soon to be father, he's still completely insensitive to her feelings. It never occurred to him to wonder why Brooke so vehemently held on to the notion that their love wasn't real. It never occurred to him that she'd resigned herself to this idea as a way for her to deal with the pain—to heal.

She needs this. She needs to believe that they were a mistake so she can move on. She needs to believe that she was right, so that all the pain she went through—the pain he put her through—would all be worth it. She needs to believe that he and Peyton are happy so she can finally let herself be happy.

It's his turn to say the wedding vows. He looks into the eyes of his bride and knows what he has to do. She needs to believe it. He needs her to be happy.

"Peyton, I loved you from the moment I saw you." The quiet sobs almost immediately stop. He takes a deep breath and forges on. For his family, for himself. For Brooke. "And this ring is just a way to show the world what has been in my heart for as long as I've known you."

B&L

White. Everything is just so fucking white. Calm, bright, hopeful—a complete contrast to the gray of prison. If there is anything he's learned through this whole ordeal, it's that there isn't any other place in this world he hates more than these two locations and their corresponding hues. He and Brooke stand at the emergency room doors, looking in desperately as a team of surgeons and doctors work around to save his wife and unborn child.

"I'm sorry," he says suddenly.

Brooke turns her head to the side, her eyes never leaving the commotion in the ER. "Hm?"

"I'm sorry about before." He's not really. But seeing his wife and child in the state they are in is tugging at his guilt. He can't believe he even thought of leaving them.

She shakes her head and turns to him, placing gentle hands on his shoulders in understanding. "It's okay." He looks up into her eyes. They're soft and warm, a testament of the mature woman she has become. "You were just scared. You were worried about losing Peyton and the baby and you tried to run from it. But you don't have to worry." She glances into the operating room, her eyes are hopeful. "Peyton will pull through this, just you watch." She gives him a faint smile; he's still searching her eyes. "You made the right choice."

He grits his jaw and frowns at her. "Brooke." His voice is weary. "That doesn't even make sense."

She blinks and pulls back in surprise, watching him turn away and shake his head in wonder.

"Luke, come on, of course it does. Your wedding with Lindsey didn't exactly go as planned. It's understandable that you'd pull away from Peyton before you could get hurt again."

He shakes his head in frustration but doesn't answer. Inside, he feels like screaming—at her and at himself. He realizes he is the one that made her feel like this. Like a tool, a pawn that's used and discarded whenever it benefits him. He did this to her and no matter what he says or does, he can never fix it.

"Well, whatever the reason, I am sorry."

He hears her sigh. "Okay."

He looks down at her and for the first time all day takes note of her black dress. Although she's still beautiful, he never thought the color black suited her. She told him that herself, once. He wonders why she chose such a color for her bridesmaid dress.

"And thank you." He says after a short silence.

She turns to him and smiles. "For what?"

"For not making your dress red."

B&L

Everywhere I look, you're all I see.

It's been three months since Sawyer Brooke Scott was born. Lucas can't remember the last time he was so happy. Already, this little bundle of joy is his entire life. He doesn't know how he's lived all these years without her. She is his light, his joy, his very reason for getting up in the morning. She and her little baby girl blue eyes that match his and that button nose of her mother's. Looking up at her as she giggles in his outstretched arms, he marvels at how much she's grown in the short time she's graced this world. She's absolutely, undeniably perfect.

"Wanna go out for a walk baby girl?" He coos up at the gurgling beauty in his arms and laughs when she lets out a shriek of delight as he swoops her up and down. "I thought that'd make you happy." He smiles as he sets her in her carriage and walks off to his favorite place in the whole world.

~*~

A lot has changed since his high school days. In those days, his beloved river court was a sanctuary for him and his closest friends to gather and hide from the world that would not accept them and couldn't understand them. Now, it's a hot spot for everyone in the town. News that the legendary Lucas Scott had learned his technique on these grounds traveled across the town like wild fire, resulting in every group – cool, jock, nerds – hanging out in hopes of realizing their own dreams. When he first returned to Tree Hill, it annoyed him more than anything but now, he doesn't mind. He looks down at his child with adoration. He could be in the middle of an arctic ice storm and he would be happy as long as he had his angel with him. He frowns at the thought. Or maybe he'd freak out that his three month old was sure to catch pneumonia or worse.

"You cold, baby girl?" He asks worriedly as he crouches over to tug the blanket over her further. It's a sunny day in the middle of August, there are no clouds in sight and no breeze can be felt. But Lucas decides to bundle her up—just in case.

"This is your dad's favorite place in the whole world." He reaches down and tickles her belly, smiling widely at her soft giggle. "One day, I'll be teaching you free throws on this very court." He looks up and takes a deep breath, looking around at the babbling teenagers as they engage in their evening activities. His eyes trace over a group playing football in the far corner, a small 4 on 4 basketball game taking place in the middle of the court, with their friends cheering and laughing along with them. A flash of short brunette locks catches his eyes and his breath hitches.

He hasn't seen her in over a week. Ever since Sawyer was born, he's seen her at least once every day and he's managed to act civil when around her. He is proud of himself for being able to finally make the right choice and remain loyal to his family. He hasn't felt the need to be with her ever since Sawyer was born. But as he watches her from his side of the court, something tugs at his heart. There's something … different in her demeanor. She's relaxed, she's happy, she's giggling … she's Brooke. When was the last time she giggled? He wonders. He can't seem to remember the last time she looked this happy. His smile drops as he realizes that he hasn't seen her laugh this genuinely in over a year. Even though he's been seeing so much of her these past few months, she's always so formal around him, always reserved. This Brooke, the real Brooke, she's different. His Brooke is different. Lucas frowns. He hasn't thought of her as his Brooke in a very long time.

He looks at the shorter brunette sitting beside her on the bench, and recognizes the girl as Sam, who last he heard had moved out after finding her birth mother. Brooke pulls the laughing Sam off the bench and starts twirling around like the carefree spirit she is and to his amazement, Sam joins in. He remembers the way Sam was when she first came into Brooke's life. She was detached, angry, depressed, hurt, and lonely. Now, she is ... full of life, charismatic, confident...hopeful. A tiny smile lights up his face as his eyes turn back to the woman who has held and broken his heart for so long. She did that for Sam … just as she did for him. A warm feeling takes over his body and he can't remember the last time he's felt so at peace.

"Gwerpa!"

He looks down at his newborn, who's flailing her arms widely trying to catch his attention. And just as quickly as that warm feeling surfaced, a cold rush of reality hits him like a brick. What is he doing? Why is he thinking about his ex when he finally has the family he's always wanted?

Shaking his head—and hating himself again—Lucas turns and rushes back home.

~*~

He enters his childhood house and is met with the bubbling laughter of his new wife. Involuntarily, he compares her laughter to the way Brooke used to laugh. It's not as bubbly and infectious as the brunettes, but it's uplifting in its own way. He frowns. When did they switch personalities?

"Hey babes." She smiles and gives him a peck on the mouth before taking Sawyer from her carriage and carrying her over to the couch.

"Hello little princess. How are you? Mommy missed you so much, she did." She coos lovingly to her child, her pride and joy. "Did you have fun with your daddy today? I bet you did."

Lucas watches them in silence for a moment. Sawyer reaches up and grabs a lock of her mother's hair, her eyes staring up in awe at the woman caring for her. And once again, he feels shame and guilt take over his very being. He needs to stop this. He needs to move on with his life and focus all his love and attention to his family. Peyton and Sawyer are the loves of his life. This is his future.

"Let's get out of here," he says suddenly.

Peyton frowns. "Did we have plans tonight?" She asks, getting off the couch and moving to put Sawyer in her carriage.

"No, I mean, let's get out of Tree Hill."

Her eyes widen. "Wh-what?"

"We can go anywhere you want." He knows he sounds like he's begging but he realizes now that he needs to do this.

"Why?"

He shrugs. "I just ... I want to start our life fresh, you know? Start from the beginning without all the baggage that comes with this town."

She's silent for a moment, eyeing him in a way that makes him sweat with the fear that she might suspect his true reasons for leaving. Peyton looks down at her baby girl in the seat and a moment later, she looks up at him with a small smile on her face.

"Where would we go?"

He shrugs. "I don't know." He looks at Sawyer. "Charleston?"

B&L

"Peyton and I are leaving." Brooke Davis whips around at the familiar voice that suddenly boomed through her small clothing store. A nervous Lucas Scott stands at the door, the morning sun shining on his back, creating a halo effect. She frowns as his words sink in and cocks her head to the side in confusion.

"Tree Hill." He answers her silent question.

She gawks at him. "Wh-What?!"

He shrugs. "We want to start our lives somewhere else." He sounds confident enough, even convincing, but the fact that he can't seem to meet her eyes says more than he needs to.

The brunette stands rooted to her spot, shocked and at a total loss of what to say, how to react. How can they just leave? Peyton hadn't told her anything about leaving before. How long have they been planning this? She meets his eyes and can't stop the tears from springing in her own. She wants to ask him so much but she seems to have lost her ability to formulate a sentence.

Noticing her tears, Lucas shuffles uncomfortably in his spot, mentally coaching himself that this is the best thing to do. He takes a deep breath and suddenly—wordlessly—hands her a stack of papers.

"It started out as a diary." He says awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets. The tension between them could be cut with a knife. "I wasn't that good back then, but..." He looks up and meets her eyes one last time. His heart breaks at the confusion he sees in them. He wishes he could make it better for her, for all of them. But…he's so tired.

"I told you it was edited, Brooke." His voice sounds strained and defeated. He stares at her for a long time, waiting to see what she would say—or if she would even react. When it's clear that the most she's going to do is sport the doe-eyed, hurt look on her face, he decides to leave before he changes his mind.

Brooke watches him leave the store, unable to make sense of what just transpired. She can't believe this. Not only did the love of her life marry her best friend and have the baby she'd always wanted but now, they're just … leaving? What about her friendship with Peyton? Would that be over again just like after high school? What about Sawyer, who she started to love as much as she'd love her own daughter? Would she ever see her again?

Would she ever see him again?

"Lucas wait!" She jumps from her position behind the counter and runs to him. "Lucas!"

Hearing her voice, he turns around just in time to catch her as she flings herself into his arms. He hesitates but within a moment, molds into her, burying his face in her flowing hair.

"We'll keep in touch, right?" She sounds so scared, so vulnerable.

Lucas hesitates. "I don't know if I can, Brooke," he says honestly and his heart breaks when she lets out a gut-wrenching sob.

They stay like that for a long time, both holding on as tight as they can. Neither willing to be the first to let go. Brooke's sobs slowly subside after a time and Lucas can hear her sniffles reduce as the moments tick past, until her breathing is calmed against his body and her arms relax around his neck. Knowing that he won't be able to leave if she breaks down again, he hesitantly pushes back from her embrace and looks down at her, smiling at her smudged make up. She's still breathtaking.

They stare at each other, both expecting the other one to say something. Both unable to do so. Sighing, he drops his arms from her shoulders and slowly walks away, retreating to return to his home and out of her life forever.

After a couple of steps, he turns back. "You know, Brooke, if you keep trying to look for reasons not to be with someone, you'll always find them. Even if they aren't really there." He's silent again, waiting for a reaction to his comment.

Instead of responding, the brunette busies herself with wiping away her makeup, pretending she didn't hear him.

He sighs, dejected. "I hope you find happiness, Pretty Girl." He says this so softly that she barely hears it. It's as though the wind carried the words over to her. Her face softens and even though it breaks her heart, she knows she'll be okay. I've moved on, now.

"Maybe one day I'll find my comet, huh?" She sends him a smile and receives a sad one in return before he walks away again. This time, he doesn't turn back.

~*~

Brooke enters the store and leans back on the door. Her lips tremble with the threat of an oncoming break down but she takes a deep breath to compose herself, turning the 'We're Closed' sign around so she won't be disturbed. She can't work today. She turns around and her eyes catch a stack of papers on the ground. It's the paper Lucas handed to her before he walked away. She must have dropped it as she ran after him. She picks it up from the ground and reads the title. A Scott's Life is sprawled across the front page. Brooke realizes with a start that this is Lucas' first attempt at his autobiographical novel. She reads the printed date—February 26th, 2007. Two week before they broke up.

"Didn't you miss me while you were away?"

"Everyday."

Taking a deep breath, she flips through the pages and finds a highlighted section that catches her attention. She sits down before reading, somehow knowing that she would need support for the words Lucas wanted her to see. She reads the section once, then again, then three times, until she's lost count. By now, she doesn't need to read anymore. Every single word is etched in her memory, forever taunting her; intensifying the pain to the point where she can't see clearly anymore.

She sobs. A gut wrenching, tired wail that holds all of the years of pain, heartache, devastation, and fear she's ever experienced. She can't control it; it spills over her, drowning her in a sea of despair and longing and wishful thinking. She wants to go back. She wants to go back and stop herself from making the biggest mistake of her life—the one she will now always have to live with.

"Brooke?" She looks up to find Haley standing in the middle of her store. Her friend's eyes are wide and filled with worry, never having seen the once-declared Prom Queen turned fashion diva in such a rattled state. Haley takes wide steps and crosses the floor but stops a few feet away when Brooke suddenly jumps up from her seat and retreats away from the worried mother. She holds the document tightly to her chest. No one will read it. It's hers and Lucas's and no one will touch it.

"What's wrong?" the shorter brunette asks, worry evident in her tone.

Brooke tries to calm down but she can't curb the flow of tears running through her tired eyes. She puts the document in her desk, awkwardly—her hands are shaking—and looks up at her one time roommate.

"I—" she sobs again, knowing that though Haley wants to know what was wrong, she'd never want to hear the truth.

"I miss Julian."

~*~

'If I told you that I loved you, would you hold it against me?'

Her frail body lay almost limp beside me; much of her energy was draining the more the blood spilled around her. She looked so tired, so scared and sounded so broken. And yet … I wanted to tell her that she was mistaken; that I wasn't Jake and that there was no way she'd meant it. It was in that moment, when I struggled to find the words to gently knock her back into reality, that she'd done the unthinkable. She kissed me. It was short and hesitant and packed with the world's emotion. I was too stunned to pull back, too stunned to even respond to the kiss. So stunned that I just sat there and stared at her. All I could think was, how am I going to tell Brooke? Should I tell her? How will she react? I'd closed my eyes and thought back to her terrified figure. The way she reached her arms towards me as she was pulled into the bus; the fear, the pain, the desperation. I wanted nothing more than to run back and embrace her.

I was calm throughout the entire ordeal. Knowing that she was safe; confident that she was away from danger and that no matter what happened here, now, she would be alright. She was protected from it all. And whether I should thank God or Karma or even just Whitey for pulling her onto that bus, I would give them my utmost gratitude for saving her from this.

I looked at Peyton, the girl who I had spent my childhood days dreaming would be my girlfriend; the girl who I would have given anything to be with, and did give everything to be with, only to realize I wanted what I had all along: Brooke. The girl—woman, that pulled me out of my darkness and taught me how to love life; how to see the happiness that I was so blinded to before. The hazel-green eyes and dimples whose faith in me made me believe in hope and beauty and my ability to do all that I wanted. She was like my own personal shooting star; bright and passionate, granting of all my wishes.

A part of me was angry at Peyton for putting me in the position again but I couldn't bring myself to blame her in the state she was in. Looking at her, I was once again comforted by the fact that Brooke wasn't here to experience this. That's when I knew—I couldn't tell her. This … nightmare, this horror would never touch my Pretty Girl. Peyton's hazy confession would go unnoticed, for all our benefit.

I'm not stupid. I knew that Peyton's confession was sincere.

"I love you, Peyton. But there is this girl, you might know her—her name is Brooke. And I'm completely in love with her."

She'd smiled, then. Her face was brave; it betrayed none of the sadness that I'm sure she felt. And it pains me to know that I hurt her, that I must once again deny her feelings for me. But I had to do it. It was impossible not to. Even with everything that was happening around us: the pain, the confusion and fear that came along with Jimmy's shooting, Peyton's kiss provided me with a moment of clarity: I am now and always will be, in love with Brooke Davis. The conviction I felt—I still feel—of this fact was unlike anything I've ever been sure about in my life. This is the woman I will spend the rest of my life with. This is my family.

I think it's over now. I've finally made my decision.

It feels so damn good to say that.

~*~

I just want something,
I just want something,
I can never have.

- Fin -

Look for a sequel "two" parter- Rewind (song title by Stereophonics) {in another 3ish months}