Author's note: Save One Tree Hill! Let's make sure that the show we love so much comes back. Because this chapter is so long I'm not going to put all the information in this author's note, instead follow this link to see what you can do Let's all work together to save One Tree Hill.

Chapter 4 - The Leaving Song

As Brooke slowly opened her eyes, she felt as if she was trying to break through a fog. She sat up slowly and the room spun around her. Taking a deep breath, she tried to ease herself up off the plush mattress, but it was no use; she was too dizzy. Laying back down, she shut her eyes, willing the vertigo to leave her body.

The events of the previous night slowly began coming back to her. It was mostly a blur, but she was able to string together the main events of the previous night. The dinner party, everyone talking and laughing throughout dinner, Devon's lips on her, his hands on her breasts, Devon's eyes as he hovered above her, ready to enter her, the phone ringing, Devon leaving, the bottle of scotch, and then nothing. Darkness.

Sighing, she finally allowed herself to go there. To go to the place she dreaded, the place she'd skillfully avoided this past year or so. Her heart. The only way she'd been able to put up with Devon and his antics this whole time was because she'd vowed not to let her heart get involved. Her head, now that was okay, she could be logical with her mind. She could see all she'd lose if she left him. She could see that things really weren't that bad. Yes, her head was logical. But her heart … her heart ached and she knew that if she listened to it she'd get pulled down by all the pain and she might never be able to escape it. So she'd fought it, she'd fought off her heart and her pain, but she couldn't do it anymore.

Last night, she'd allowed her heart to feel again, and for a moment, no matter how brief, her heart had been tricked into thinking that everything was going to be okay. She'd felt beautiful, she'd felt like she mattered, that she was good enough. But most importantly, she'd felt love again. At least, that was what she'd thought at the time. But now she knew that wasn't love. That was lust, a longing to feel love, but no matter what she felt at the end of the night, she'd been alone again. She'd been empty again.

Her heart allowed her to feel and she ended up hurt. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't ignore the aching in her heart. The aching told her that she deserved more, that she had to stop putting up with Devon, that she had to get out of this marriage that brought her nothing but pain.

As she lay there, her head and her heart were telling her two completely different things. Her head told her that she needed to stay, that she needed to keep fighting for her marriage. Her head knew what she would lose if she left, her store, her life … it would all change so drastically. Being alone terrified her.

Then there was her heart. Her heart told her she deserved better. It told her that she should be with someone who loved her. She should be with someone whose breath caught in his throat every time she walked into the room, someone who looked into her eyes and saw straight into her soul. Brooke knew that person was out there, she knew that person existed for her, and she just hoped he hadn't already passed her by.

Finally Brooke pulled herself out of bed. She walked over to the closet and pulled out her Louis Vuitton luggage set. She laid it on the bed, opened it, and then began filling it. She wasn't sure where exactly she was going, or how long she'd be there, so she packed a little bit of everything.

She dressed quickly in a simple outfit of jeans and a zip-up sweater. She slipped her feet into her favorite Puma sneakers, the ones she never wore because she rarely left the house dressed so casually. After pulling her long brown hair back into a ponytail, she stepped into the bedroom once more and looked around, ensuring she'd taken anything that was of sentimental value to her. Just as she went to zip up her luggage, she turned, shocked that she'd almost forgotten it. She walked over to her dresser and knelt down. She opened the bottom drawer, the one that held the workout clothes she so rarely touched, and rifled all the way through to the bottom. She felt around along the bottom of the drawer and her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't find it! Then, she felt the cool metal against her fingertips. Breathing a sigh of relief, she pulled out the silver picture frame. Allowing herself a moment, she gazed over the photo and a small smile crossed her lips. Shaking it off, she stood, placed the framed photo into her bag, zipped up her luggage and headed out.

Pausing as she stood before the front door, she contemplated leaving a note, but realized she didn't owe him that. All of the nights he "worked late" and never called … surely he didn't deserve anymore than the same amount of concern he gave to her. Turning, she looked around once. She couldn't shake the feeling that the next time she set foot in this house, everything would have changed.

Walking out to the driveway, she put down all her luggage. She walked over to her black Range Rover and opened the door, reaching inside she pushed the button on the garage door opener that was hooked onto the sun visor. Once the door opened all the way she walked into the garage door and pulled off the car cover. Beneath it sat her prized possession, part of her past she'd not been able to part with; her old baby blue VW Beatle.

Her parents had bought that car for her when she was only sixteen years old. She'd driven it until high school was over, but then it had sat untouched in Peyton's garage throughout college. Peyton had been good at getting it out whenever she was back in Tree Hill and driving it around the neighborhood a little. Whenever Brooke did venture back to Tree Hill, which was quite a rare occurrence, she had the car to drive. When she'd moved to Durham with Devon, she'd picked up her car and taken it with her.

Devon had always made fun of Brooke for keeping the car. Once they moved to Durham he'd bought her first Range Rover, but Brooke said that she just couldn't part with her beloved car. Selling it seemed wrong, so she'd kept it in their garage, pulling it out every couple of months to make sure it was still drivable.

Now, she was relieved to have it. She didn't want to leave in the car he'd bought her, if she was going to start figuring out a game plan she had to start relying on herself more. Putting the key in the ignition she turned the key, praying it would start. The engine turned over a couple times, but it finally came to life.

Looking out the rear window, she backed out of the garage and onto the driveway. She hopped out and loaded up her luggage. Getting back in the car, she backed out of the driveway and turned onto the street and drove away. As the house grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, Brooke smiled. For the first time in years, she actually felt free.

Hours later, she pulled into Peyton's driveway. She'd driven around aimlessly most of the day trying to figure out her next move, but then realized that if she was going to come up with some kind of master plan, she'd need the help of her best friend. She unloaded her luggage from the back of the car and made her way to the front door. After knocking, she waited, hearing footsteps approaching.

The blonde opened the door and, taking just one look at Brooke and the car sitting in the driveway, she knew what had happened. Saying nothing, she stepped outside, grabbed some of the luggage, and made her way into the house, Brooke following closely behind her.

They made their way up the stairs to the guest room in silence. After stashing all the bags, they made their way downstairs and into the kitchen. Peyton opened the freezer and pulled out a bottle of vodka. Taking two glasses from the cupboard, she poured some vodka into each and handed one to Brooke. Peyton knew that now was not the time to worry about her drinking, if there even was anything to really worry about.

Brooke took a long drink from the glass and then placed it back on the counter in front of her. Looking up at Peyton she finally broke the silence.

"Is Jake here?"

Peyton shook her head. "No. They're at Jenny's softball practice. They'll be back in about an hour or so."

Brooke nodded, retreating yet again to silence. She pushed the glass towards Peyton, who filled it again. Tipping her head back, Brooke allowed the cool liquid to stream down her throat. Looking back to Peyton she spoke once again.

"I'm just going to get to bed. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. Can we talk in the morning?"

Peyton nodded. "I'll be here. I don't have to go to the gallery until the afternoon."

Brooke just stared at her blankly, Peyton wasn't even sure if she was really listening. Finally, Brooke nodded slowly and then turned and headed up the stairs. She peeled off her clothing and dug through a suitcase until she unearthed a large t-shirt. Pulling it on, she reached up and let her hair loose, then climbed into bed. She buried herself underneath the covers and shut her eyes, willing sleep to take over.

The next morning, Brooke woke up disoriented. She looked around the room and it wasn't until she saw the picture of Jake and Jenny that she realized where she was. Sitting up, she saw her luggage and the events of the last couple days flooded her memory. She couldn't believe she'd done it, she'd finally left Devon.

She reached over to the nightstand where she'd set her cell phone last night after turning it off. Once she powered it up, she called her voicemail. She wasn't surprised to hear that she didn't have any messages. Devon probably hadn't come home last night, so he wouldn't even know yet that she was gone.

Sighing, Brooke pulled herself out of bed and, pulling her robe from her suitcase, wrapped it tightly around herself. She headed out of the guest room and made her way downstairs.

Peyton was sitting at the kitchen table, coffee mug in hand; blonde curls a wild mess around her pretty face. Hearing Brooke enter the kitchen, she looked up from the newspaper she'd been reading.

"Good morning. Coffee?"

Brooke nodded and took a seat at the table. Peyton stood up to get her a cup of coffee. Placing it in front of her, Brooke took a long sip and then leaned back in the chair.

"I left him."

Peyton nodded, "For good?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure yet. I mean I'm only 26. That seems too young to be divorced. I don't know what I'm going to do yet, but for right now I just had to get out of there. I need a couple days to clear my head and come up with some kind of plan."

"I figured that when I saw the luggage, there's no way you could have fit everything into a couple of suitcases."

Brooke nodded in agreement. She opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind.

Peyton continued, "I don't know how you lasted this long, I mean with not being able to trust him and all."

Brooke smirked, "Trust? I gave up on trust a long time ago, Peyton. I mean look at my track record. Every guy I've been with I couldn't trust. I mean, yeah, I thought I could trust Devon in the very beginning, but that didn't last long. And honestly, I wasn't all that surprised once he started lying. I've never believed in trust, never valued it."

"God Brooke, when did you become such a cynic?"

"When did I become a cynic? Let me think." Brooke reached up and rubbed her chin, sarcasm evident in her movements. "Maybe when my boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend. Or maybe when that same boyfriend later lied to me about a fatal heart condition. Or wait, maybe when I found out that my best friend kissed said boyfriend once again. It was even worse that time, my biggest insecurity about the relationship came true. God, Lucas wrecked me, he made me this way. I don't think I deserve better because he never gave me better. Jeez, neither did you for that matter."

Brooke glared at Peyton who was looking down at the paper again. Peyton felt like she had no right to say anything. Brooke was right. Peyton had done those things. She'd apologized and they'd moved on, but no matter what, Peyton would never be able to take it back.

Brooke looked at Peyton and knew she'd hurt her. Sighing she reached over and placed her hand on top of Peyton's, "I'm sorry P. Sawyer-Jagielski. I didn't mean it. I'm just upset."

Peyton nodded, tears shining in her eyes. "I know. It's okay."

"Are you sure?" the spite completely disappearing from her voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Peyton nodded profusely as she swiped at her eyes. "Really, it's okay. So, let's come up with a plan."

"I was thinking, if it's okay, I'll stay here for a few days, just until I get back on my feet."

"Of course, you know you're always welcome."

The girls began talking strategy, but were interrupted by Brooke's phone ringing. She picked it up off the table and looked down at the caller ID. She hit ignore and stared down at the phone as though it mesmerized her. She almost couldn't believe it had rang, couldn't believe that he'd called. Minutes later it rang again. Brooke hit ignore again and then powered the phone off.

"Devon?" Peyton asked, already know the answer.

Brooke nodded. "He must have stopped home for something and realized I didn't sleep there last night or something."

Peyton's house phone rang a few minutes later. Peyton hopped up and walked over to it. She looked over at Brooke, both wishing Peyton had caller ID at that moment.

"Sorry, I have to answer it. It could be work or Jenny's school."

Brooke nodded in understanding.

"Hello."

"Peyton, its Devon. Is Brooke there?"

Peyton signaled to Brooke that it was in fact Devon.

"No, I haven't seen her. Sorry."

"Well, she wasn't home when I got home last night. And she hasn't been here all day, I've been calling. I've tried her work and her cell," Devon paused, hoping Peyton would jump in. "Well, if you hear from her, just ask her to get in touch with me?"

"Wow, Devon. Is that concern for your wife I hear?" Peyton couldn't hold her tongue anymore.

"No, it's just that I have a big charity event tonight and I can't show up without Brooke on my arm, so I just need to know if she's coming."

The tone in his voice disgusted Peyton. He was so arrogant, it made her sick.

"You know what? I wouldn't count on that. Why don't you get one of your whores to go with you? Brooke, she's too good for you, too good to just be the trophy wife on your arm."

With that, Peyton slammed the phone into the receiver. She couldn't believe he'd had the nerve to call, feigning concern for his wife, all over some charity event. She looked over at Brooke who was biting her lip, holding back tears.

"You okay?" Peyton wrapped her arm around her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just…I just hoped…you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Peyton pulled her in tight for a hug.

Brooke pulled away and wiped her eyes. "Don't waste tears on someone who wouldn't waste them over you right?"

"Right." Peyton happened to glance up at the clock. "Oh, Brooke, I'm sorry, but I have to go. My meeting at the gallery got pushed up. I was supposed to call Jake and see if he could get Jenny from school." Peyton walked over to the phone.

"I'll get her. Don't worry about it. It's really the least I can do."

"You're sure?"

Brooke nodded.

"Okay, you can pick her in front of the school at 3:00pm. They have this whole security thing if they notice someone who isn't a parent picking up one of the kids, so if they ask you for the code word its 'raven'."

Brooke laughed, "Of course it is. We'll be fine. I'll see you later."

Peyton nodded and rushed up the stairs to get ready. Brooke headed into the living room and turned on the television. She figured she might as well get lost in some stupid soap opera. It might help her forget about the drama in her own life.

Brooke heard Peyton leave and as soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Brooke sprung off the couch and padded into the kitchen. She opened the freezer and pulled out the vodka. Reaching up into a cupboard she grabbed a glass and retreated into the living room.

After a few glasses of vodka, Brooke dozed off in front of the television. She woke up a little later feeling a little groggy, but she figured some more vodka would help that. After a few more shots she was feeling better.

She flipped through the channels and realized nothing was on, so she opted for the only halfway decent movie on. Of course, that was Unfaithful. Shortly into it, her mind started racing.

That's when the anger starting setting in. She thought of Devon with all his women on the side. She thought about how he's been lying to her, always claiming to work late, like she wasn't smart enough to figure it out. She was mad at herself too, for sticking around as long as she did. She'd let him walk all over her. Peyton was right, she shouldn't have stood for it as along as she did.

Then, her anger shifted to someone else. Someone who'd hurt her a long time ago, and she'd never fully recovered. It was his fault, all of it. He was the reason she was where she was now. She stood up off the couch, deciding not take it anymore.

Brooke stomped over and grabbed the cordless phone from its cradle. Checking the phone list on the fridge, she hit speed dial #8. With each ring, she felt her anger growing.

"Peyton?"

Brooke couldn't believe it, he still sounded exactly the same.

"No, it's Brooke," she choked over the words, choked over her own name.

"Brooke? Ho- how are you?"

He sounded confused. Of course he was confused. Why was she calling him after all these years?

"I'm fan-fucking-tastic. I left my husband. He's been cheating on me. Actually, he's been cheating on me for a while, and I've just let him. You know why? Because of you. Because of the way you treated me a long time ago. I started to think that that was how I deserved to be treated, that I wasn't worth anything, that having guys cheat on me was okay. I mean, at least Devon didn't cheat on me with my best friend."

Lucas waited a moment before he spoke, not wanting to say anything he'd regret.

"I've apologized to you for that so many times Brooke, I could apologize again but it won't do any good, you already know I'm sorry. I made so many mistakes and I can't take them back. There's no way to take them back. You don't deserve to be treated badly though, you never did, not by me, not by anyone."

Brooke laughed coldly. "Yeah, well you didn't seem to feel like that at the time. This is your fault Lucas! All of it! I just wanted to let you know that. And I wanted to thank you. Thank you for making me feel so worthless that I settled for less than I deserved. Goodbye, Lucas."

Brooke hit the off button, a little shocked at what she'd done. While she'd dialed, she'd thought it would make her feel better, give her some kind of closure. But all it had done was make her feel bad. She knew he was sorry, she knew that he'd take it all back if he could. But somehow, it was just easier to get mad at somebody, to cause somebody else just one iota of the pain she felt.

Glancing at the clock, she knew she had to head out to get Jenny. As she stood she felt herself sway a little. Looking down, she saw the empty bottle of vodka lying on the floor. She grabbed it, and brought it outside with her. She walked to the side of the house and tossed it in the dumpster then headed to her car.

She cranked the music up on the way to Jenny's school. It was the only way to silence pain in her head. Once she pulled up to the parent pick up area, she turned the volume down and scanned the crowd of kids for Jenny.

Finally she spotted her, her long blonde hair held back from her face in headband. It never ceased to amaze Brooke how much Jenny looked like Peyton, even though she wasn't her birth mother. The blonde hair, the blue eyes … it was uncanny. Not to mention the clothing. Jenny had inherited both her father's and Peyton's love for Converse, not to mention Peyton's love for emo band shirts. Brooke swore that Jenny must be the only ten year old who knew every word to every single Dashboard Confessional song, including their first album which had been released before she was born.

Brooke honked the horn and caught Jenny's eye, she waved her over. Jenny signaled to a teacher that that was her ride. The teacher walked Jenny over. "Has Mrs. Jaglieski given you the password?"

"Raven," Brooke stated confidently.

"Okay Jenny. I'll see you tomorrow."

Jenny nodded and hopped in the passenger seat.

"How was your day, kiddo?"

Jenny frowned. Brooke's breath smelled funny. It smelled like her mom's breath sometimes did when Jenny was there on the weekends.

"It was good. I got in trouble, but don't tell Mom."

"What happened?"

"I kicked Bobby Newhart in the shin while we were playing kickball in gym. I didn't mean to, I swear…"

As she trailed off recounting details from her day, Brooke noticed a police officer driving behind her. She checked her speed and knew that she was fine.

She was shocked when, moments later, he began flashing his lights at her. She put on her blinker and pulled over to the side of the road.

Jenny looked over at her, worried. "Is everything okay Brooke?"

"Yeah, honey, everything is fine."

Brooke rolled down the window as the officer approached her. "Is everything okay, officer?"

"I just noticed you weaving in and out of the lane a little bit back there. Is everything okay ma'm?"

"Yes officer, everything is fine."

The office frowned as he smelled the alcohol on her breath.

"Have you been drinking ma'm?"

"I had a drink with lunch a couple of hours ago, but nothing since then. I'm just tired officer, I apologize. As soon as I get Miss Jenny here home, I'll take a nap."

Brooke bit her lip, hoping he'd buy the lie. She could tell that he wasn't. She smiled her patented dimpled smile and hoped that might do the trick.

"Okay ma'm, you head straight home and lay down. And I don't want to see anymore weaving, understood?"

Brooke nodded. "Thank you officer."

She couldn't believe that had happened. She really hadn't had that much to drink. God, if Peyton found out …

Brooke looked over at Jenny. "Jenny, I'd appreciate it if you kept this a secret, okay? I'll keep your secret about you kicking Bobby from Peyton and your Dad for you, and you keep this secret for me. Do we have a deal?"

Jenny nodded, even though something inside her told her that it wasn't the right thing to do.

"Good. Now let's get you home."

Later that night Peyton, stopped into Jenny's room to see how her homework was coming.

"Hey honey, you need any help?"

Jenny shook her head, but Peyton could sense that something was wrong.

"You were awfully quiet at dinner, is there something you want to tell me?"

Jenny knew that she had to trust the feeling inside her stomach, so she nodded.

"Brooke's breathe smelled funny, like Mom's sometimes does when I'm over there on the weekends. I figured it was a bad smell because Daddy always yells at her about it. And then, a police officer pulled us over, he said Brooke was weaving and he asked her she'd been drinking."

Anger swelled up in Peyton's chest. Brooke did have a problem, and Peyton wasn't going to be quiet about it any longer. Not after she'd endangered Jenny's safety.

"She didn't want me to tell you, so please don't tell her I did. She wanted me to keep it a secret," Jenny pleaded.

"Jen, remember when Daddy and I told you that secrets shouldn't be kept secret when someone might get hurt?"

Jenny nodded.

"Well this is one of those times. You were right to tell me. What Brooke did is very dangerous, both to you and to her. I have to talk to her about it, but she won't get mad at you, I promise."

Jenny nodded, not really believing her, but still, she could tell from Peyton's expression that she'd done the right thing.

Peyton stormed out of Jenny's bedroom and down the stairs to the family room where Brooke was watching television.

"Did you get pulled over for drunk driving this afternoon when you were driving Jenny home from school?" Peyton half-yelled, crossing her arms over her chest as she spoke.

"I can't believe she told you!" Brooke exclaimed.

"Seriously Brooke, are you really going to blame this on a ten year old? You're the one who drank and then got behind the wheel! This is your fault. I cannot believe you would do that! I mean, not only did you put yourself at risk, but you put my daughter at risk! Did you even think about that?"

"Oh sure, Saint Peyton, getting all righteous on me. First off, I hadn't had a drink in hours. Secondly, I was barely weaving, the cop must have been seeing things. Lastly, Jenny is not your daughter, she's Nikki's daughter, remember?"

Peyton's eyes widened with exasperation. "How dare you say that to me? I've been more of a mother to that girl than Nikki and you know that!" Peyton took a deep breath to calm herself a little. "I'm not going to let you turn this around somehow. We need to talk about this. You have a drinking problem, Brooke."

Brooke shook her head, "No I don't, and you know I don't. I mean come on, last night you were the one pouring the vodka into the glass and handing it to me. If I have such a problem, why would you do that?"

"I've been concerned about your drinking for a little while now, but then the other night at your party I thought everything was fine. I actually doubted myself and my instincts, but now, hearing this, I was right, you do have a problem. And I'm sorry if I somehow contributed to that by pouring the drinks last night, but I almost had myself convinced that you were fine. I was so wrong, Brooke! You aren't fine. You're getting worse."

Brooke stood up, wanting to be at eye level with Peyton so she'd no longer feel inferior.

"There are certain things I need to do to get through the day. It's not anything you would understand. I mean look at your life! You have a husband who adores you, a kid who worships the ground you walk on and an art career most would kill for. You can't understand what it's like for me Peyton, you just can't!"

"Then explain it to me Brooke, tell me about your life, tell me how you feel!" Peyton pleaded with her best friend. She wanted some kind of look into the life that Brooke felt she couldn't handle. She wanted to understand how it was that she thought drinking was the only solution.

Brooke thought for a minute, wondering how to put it all into words. Then she stopped herself. Why did she have to tell Peyton anything? She didn't owe her any kind of explanation. Brooke was a grown woman and she could make her own decisions.

Brooke mimicked Peyton and crossed her arms over her own chest. "I don't have to answer to you."

She spun on her heel, leaving the blonde standing in the middle of the room, speechless. Peyton was shocked at Brooke's behavior. In all the years they'd been friends, Peyton had always been able to get through to Brooke, no matter what. And now, well now she wouldn't tell her anything.

Peyton knew Brooke needed help. She also knew that Brooke wouldn't accept it from her. Peyton knew that if she couldn't get through to her, then there was only one person who could. It was risky though, bringing him back into her life, but Peyton knew that he was her last hope. Brooke needed help now, before it was too late.

Sitting down on the couch Peyton pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and flipped quickly through the phone book. Once she found his number, she hit send.

She listened as the phone rang once, twice, three times. Fearing it would go into voicemail and she wouldn't know what to say, she began to lower the phone from her ear, but then the voice on the other end stopped her.

"Peyton? Is that you?"

Peyton breathed a sigh of relief and nodded, as though he'd be able to see her.

"Are you there? Peyton?"

Finally she found her words again.

"Lucas, she needs your help."