Author's note: Here it is, last chapter! It's quite a bit longer than the other chapters. It was really difficult to not write a 'happy ending' for them, because I know, ultimately that it had to follow the pattern of the show, and therefore, the day after this would be 6x24, so I tried to make Brooke (more so at the end), more receptive with the idea of her and Julian. I'm a bit unsure with the ending, but figured I didn't know how else to do it, so here it is, enjoy!
Day Four
She doesn't really know why they're here, in the maternity ward, gushing and smiling over new born babies.
Truth is, she didn't dare catch a glimpse of Sawyer Scott until now. Without Peyote being awake, she feels like it's cheating somehow; that she gets to experience the joy first.
With Julian here, however, she feels safer and comforted. After their little 'sleepover' last night, she feels both stronger and significantly weaker at the same time, but he tends to do that to her, give her strength and manages to strip away any ounce of balance she may have had. She feels weak because she suddenly has to depend on somebody, but the real scary thought is that she likes it when he comforts her and bites his lip, and gives her a smile that makes her heart ache and flutter at the same time. The way he talks melts her, the way he over pronounces his words slightly, or the way that he absentmindedly licks his lips when he comes across a script he likes.
She misses seeing these small qualities on a daily basis.
She misses him.
And she misses the way she was when she was with him, second guessing way less than she used to, being less of a closed off ice queen, and loving so passionately.
Sawyer is wrapped in a tiny pink blanket, with images of giraffes and elephants knitted onto the material; true innocence. She sighs for a moment and scans the room, feeling lonelier than ever. She knows that it may happen to her someday; all the domestic bliss, love and kids that everybody talks about.
He sees her hovering figure in the corridor, and as he makes his way to her, flashes of images pop up into his mind.
His first kiss with Brooke, their first night together, his failed 'I love you', their fights
But suddenly it no longer matters anymore, what matters is her standing there alone right now, and his growing urge to take her into his arms and propose, give her fifty babies, if it's what she wants. He envisions what their child would look like; with moon sized dimples and a cheeky grin, curly brown hair and sun kissed skin, with his arrogance and her confidence, but also his sensitivity and her kindness.
It'll be a pretty kick ass kid, that's for sure.
She doesn't flinch at his light touch; his right hand caressing the small of her back. She turns to him and smiles.
'She's beautiful, isn't she?'
He smiles in agreement, and hugs her a little tighter, because he knows that behind her statement, lies a million other subtexts.
I want one
Would Peyton wake up to see her beautiful girl?
I want all of this, with you
'Are you okay?' He murmurs into her hair, wondering right then, if they look like a real couple, and also thinking about why they aren't back to being one already.
Her nod was weak, and the smile she sends him breaks his heart, the way she presses her lips tightly together, ridding the dimples he loves so much.
'It's just, hard'
And he realises that she needs to get out of here, at least for a little while.
'Where are we going? I need to be in there, Julian! What are you doing?'
She can protest and get angry all she wants, but he doesn't miss the way her cheeks are colouring slightly, eyes twinkling and her nails digging tightly into his palm.
'We, Brooke Davis, are going for a little trip'
They're at her and Peyton's spot, the bridge overlooking the river, and she wonders why he even brought her here, it seems like a torture of some sort. But she knows him well enough to realize that there's got to be something more.
Something that shows, time and time again, how much he loves her.
'How do you even know about this place?
But frankly, it doesn't surprise her that he does.
His lips curve into a proud smirk, 'well, Peyton's mentioned it to me before'
Ouch.
' But I got so curious, when you told me about it that night, remember?'
They were sitting together on the bridge now, feet dangling, overlapping each other's slightly. He brings out a few boxes of chinese take out, and pops a prawn cracker into his mouth before continuing, not giving her the chance to answer.
' We were in bed, and you had that soft old sweater on, remember? And I asked you why you were wearing something
that looks like it came from the sixties, and you told me, in your irritated voice that it was a sweater that Peyton's mom knitted for you, but it was too big to wear then.'
She smiled softly, and doesn't bother to wipe the stray tears on her cheeks.
'She always told me to keep warm outside, so she knitted me a big sweater, and told me to wear it for life, that way, no matter where I go, I'll get to take Tree Hill with me, always.'
He's heard this part before, but he loves the way she's telling it, so he lets her finish.
'And that's when you told me the stories about you, Peyton and the bridge. So I figured, why not bring you here? This way, it'll be like you're being there for her, without being stuck in that miserable place.'
His voice was so factual, and indignant, that it made her want to throw out every insecurity, every doubt, everyone who may be questioning her judgement, or their relationship, and just scream out that she loves him.
Unconditionally, permanently, always.
The idea of such permanence crippled her with fear yesterday, two years before, hell, even when she woke up this morning. She's still scared, but right this moment, she's also thinking of a little boy with Julian's smile and her hazel eyes.
But instead of exposing herself that way, she chooses to nudge closer against him, and tickles his chin playfully.
'You always know the right thing to say.'
He shakes his head, and smiles.
'It's not what you say, most of the time, it's what you do.'
She's not sure if that makes everything she hasn't said, more okay. She wonders if that was his way of saying that he knows, although she's still silent and doing a bad job of showing so far.
'But then again, sometimes people just need to be assured, you know?'
And she finds herself back at square one again. Pathetic.
She swears that all her friends thinks they're together, even though Peyton's still in a coma, Brooke can't help but wonder if she's purposely torturing her, waiting for her to get it together, before she wakes up. At a little bit after 2pm, Haley comes up to her and instantly, in a Haley kind of way, interferes.
'Where were you at lunch? Jamie was asking for his aunt Brooke.'
She shrugged, but allowed the small smile to curve out slightly, 'With Julian, on the bridge'
Haley raises one of her eyebrows, surprised, but not really.
'Have you guys worked it out yet?'
And she's tired of being reminded of her mistakes, her stupidity, so she tries to walk away and dance around the subject.
'Hales, whatever Julian and I are, it doesn't matter right now okay? It's not important.'
She swears to God she'll burn in hell.
Haley sighs in frustration, 'Brooke, I swear sometimes you're your biggest enemy'
And she chuckles, nothing she's never heard before, but that shouldn't make it right.
'Just let yourself be happy, please, it kills me to see you like this.'
If everybody else sees through it, through her, then why can't she?
'Brooke,' Haley tries, her voice significantly softer this time, 'if it doesn't matter, why is he still here? Why haven't you ignored him and told him to leave?'
And she swears the answer's on the tip of her tongue, what Julian has been waiting to hear for so long. But she's Brooke Davis, and she's her own biggest enemy, so she shrugs again and says, ' Because it doesn't seem like it bothers him that much, and we haven't really even talked about us.'
Haley doesn't even reply and walks away before she could have done it first.
She's avoiding Karen, because she knows that the older woman disapproves of this version of her.
The cold hearted, closed off, frustrating side of her.
But their meeting seems to be inevitable, since their love of good coffee always brings them back to the same place; the coffee shop across the hospital.
'Are you sleeping alright with all this coffee?' Always nurturing, Karen. The softness in her eyes made Brooke plagued with guilt, for avoiding her.
She shook her head slightly, 'regardless of the coffee, I wouldn't be sleeping well anyway. I'm too worried about Peyton, the last good sleep I had was last-'
Last night, with Julian beside her.
'It doesn't matter,' she says dismissively.
Of course it does, hell, it may have been her 'moment of clarity'.
'Why are you still here, Julian?'
She brings this up, during a rather comfortable silence, she feels like she's losing in this game of 'push and pull', she just hopes she doesn't push him away for good.
He turns to her, and she's not sure if she sees frustration, hurt or anger. Maybe a bit of all three.
'Brooke, you know why.'
And just like that, she feels like a six year old who's just been scolded.
Or a stupid twenty two year old who just won't give it up; won't let herself be happy.
Truth is, she's just afraid for him to have it all, for him to see the real her, for him to have the chance to hurt her, cripple her.
But honestly, is being like this better?
Because she's never more alone.
Julian's presence irks her. Right now, it's almost as if he's dangling his charm, love and comfort right in front of her nose, teasing her of what she should have.
What she could have had.
As if by routine, something that seems so permanent, even for them, Julian takes her home at 1 am.
Today, it's as if they made two steps forward, one step back, she seems relatively closed off, somehow. And frankly, he's tired, tired of her giving him hope, and then cruelly snatching it away. So he hovers in front of her front door and imagines them being normal again, him kissing her goodnight, and her dragging him by his shirt into the house.
She turns to him, 'Thank you, Julian.'
And he only offers a small smile before retreating to his rental.
Her voice stops him in his tracks, but he doesn't turn around, he won't give her the satisfaction of seeing his eyes.
'Do you think she'll wake up?'
He turns, not being able to stop himself. He knows it was a silly question, how would he know?
How would anybody know?
'Yeah, I do, on her own time.'
It's not a lie, it's love.
' Do you want to come in?'
He chuckles bitterly when he thinks of the double meaning of her question.
He's already in, and there's no way he'll ever find his way out.
But he knows it's been another long day, and inwardly curses himself for willingly allowing her to hurt him, time and time again.
'Yeah, that'll be nice.'
'I'm scared she'll never wake up. I've never said that out loud before.'
They're back at their usual spot on the couch, but this time, the lights are off and the TV was never on in the first place. Julian already decided that he'll spend the night, so right now, s at 2am, it's just them, the night, and hopefully her opening up to him, a little bit more.
It's almost as if she feels comforted by the night, it doesn't judge her, and allows her to be vulnerable.
He listens, but doesn't reply, because it wasn't a question, and he doesn't know how to make it better.
'What about Sawyer? What will she do without Peyton? Lucas? How can Haley play her music if that happens?'
That's Brooke, always thinking of others. It's her best and worst trait, a contradiction, just like her.
'How about you? Your grief?' He asks.
Brooke shakes her head, even in the darkness he can see her determination, 'it doesn't matter.'
He laughs, 'when you say it doesn't matter, it always does.'
And suddenly she feels like she's back in that corridor, with Haley, all over again.
It's 2:45 am now, and neither of them have fallen asleep.
'I don't know what I'd do without her, Julian.'
He isn't sure if he should pretend to be asleep, or avoid answering the inevitable all together.
'You won't have to find out, I promise.'
Why make promises he can't keep? It'll only give her an excuse to push him away even further.
'You know, when I wanted to adopt a baby, Chase told me that forever scares a lot of people. And I remember thinking that it was so silly, so ridiculous to be scared of something that could love you unconditionally like that.'
She had to break the silence, she thinks it's time to tread the waters of them.
'But now I realise, I'm one of those people too. I'm scared of such permanence, you know, of causing disappointment, of resentment, of failure.'
In her own way, she's kind of just admitted to him why she's been so closed off, so scared.
He doesn't say anything, and she thinks tonight's been the quietest night of their relationship, with her rambling on about everything, and him just soaking it all in.
He doesn't want to say anything anymore. Because Brooke will never see herself the way he does.
The way the world does.
He feels like the biggest ass on the planet when he feigns sleep, letting his head rest on the fluffy pillow and snuggling himself into her blanket. Ten minutes later he can still hear her shuffling around, and he wishes he could hold her, but that would be crossing the line.
The imaginary line, there shouldn't be a boundary between them, and Julian wonders how he became so complicated, or how the seemingly cheerful, one dimensional former party girl turned so cynical. The real world sucks, he concludes.
She's still sitting up, he persumes, so he shifts towards her slightly, his eyes still closed, and lets out a sigh.
What he wasn't prepared for, was her soft fingers running through his hair.
An act of love, his mother once told him, before she became more interested in the men at the golf club, than him.
She bends down and lightly presses a kiss on his hair, barely grasping his brown locks.
If he wasn't awake, he would have never felt it.
He wonders if that was the point.
'You deserve so much better'
And he literally had to stop himself from furiously shaking his head in anger.
He wanted to scream at her and tell her that some do want forever, like he does, with her. But he realises that he's supposed to be sleeping, so he lets her run her fingers through his hair, and allows himself to finally rest, when her hand suddenly stopped moving, and silently, permanently makes its way on top of his.
And stayed there.
There it is, the end. I hope you all enjoyed this story, as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Please leave a comment to let me know what you thought x