Author's Note: To all my readers from the United States, happy turkey day! Go easy on the gravy and send me leftovers. This chapter's title comes from Emily Dickinson's definition of hope: the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without words, and never stops at all. The court scene at the end is somewhat influenced by the pilot episode of CW's Life Unexpected. But then, so is the original concept of this story. I'm finally introducing Skylar in this chapter and would love to hear what you guys think of her. Depending on your feedback, she can stay behind in Raleigh or pop up in Tree Hill. Personally, I think Brandon needs a friend, but of course that doesn't have to be Skylar.


"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."
~ Oscar Wilde, 19th century Irish author

There are two schools of thought when it comes to hope. One welcomes it as the ultimate desire of something good. A resilient expectation of obtaining that desire. Awake, our souls dream of it. Crave it. Run on it. Even deep in the gutter, hope is what makes us look up at the stars. What convinces us that the despair of the here and now isn't permanent. That we have the strength to bear today, because tomorrow will be better. The other curses it as the worst of all evils. We call hope a treacherous sham, a universal lie. One continuous deceit slowly tormenting us. Placing us on the path to certain self-destruction. Regardless of which school of thought we belong to, we all have scars left behind by the disappointment of desires unrealized. But, if we just abandon hope all together, does it not mean we end up living in fear? For nothing? And, don't we only find meaning in life, a purpose, when we fight for something? Maybe we need to accept that some dose of fear is everlasting. That occasional disappointment is inevitable. That neither can be unmingled with hope. But, that we desperately need hope as it is the irreplaceable ingredient in finding the power within to stand up. Step out. Try. Live. That the very least we can do to feel alive is to figure out what we hope for. No matter how much we may fear it. Regardless of how far out of reach it seems. Even if we have to fight with all we have to get it. After all, it's better than living for nothing.

It's been a long time since Lucas Scott has hoped for anything. Sometimes, he remembers the days when the fight for something used to fuel him. Days when he had hoped that he would find the girl he loved even if it meant driving to the end of the world. That he would recapture the closeness he used to have with his mother, his brother, his friends. That one day, he would return home and see more than the painful memories at every corner he turned. Maybe find forgiveness. Rebuild trust. Summon up happiness. Then, he gave up. He started believing that hope was just a fraud. A shiny pretense to disguise the bitter truth that tomorrow is no better than today or yesterday. You fail every time. So, why stand up? Step out? Try again? No, Lucas Scott hasn't felt hope take a hold of him in years. Not like it does, once again, that morning. After all, he's getting ready to fight for something…his son.

He leans closer to the bathroom mirror, grabs the razor from next to the sink, and starts to shave. He has to look his best if he wants to win the fight. With every stroke of the blade, he remembers the night before. How he searched for the court summons among his mail piled up in the box on the kitchen counter. How when he was just about to give up, he decided to check the large envelope sent by his mother. Lucas never changed his permanent address on record. He doesn't really stay in one place long enough to consider the new address home. This last stop in Charlotte has been the longest, and it lasted for only three years. He already feels the itch to move on. Every few weeks, Karen sends in bulk the mail she receives in Tree Hill on his behalf. And, there he found it. The court notice telling him exactly when and where to find his son. The first thing he did was to call Brooke. Just like the call before, this one also went unanswered. He didn't even get a chance to leave a full message because his girlfriend, Lindsay, walked in.

He takes a break from shaving and looks at his reflection in the mirror. His thoughts correct themselves: his ex-girlfriend, Lindsay, walked in. Telling lies, however white they may be, require energy. Commitment. You need to not only carefully craft the story you make up, but also remember it well, so you don't trip up down the road. You need to care. Whether it's to protect someone from hurt or so you don't lose something you value. If you are to lie, you need to care. A lot. Sometimes, it's just easier to tell the truth, and let the chips fall where they may. And, that's what Lucas did the night before with Lindsay. It's not that he doesn't care about her. He does. He knows that his current self is not easy to love. Yet, she does. What they have is simple, uncomplicated. And, it works at the very basic level. Two people who keep each other company. But, if they are honest with themselves, they would admit that they are lonely even when lying in each other's arms. That neither hopes for a future, a life, together. They simply go through the motions of the present. So, Lucas decided to tell her the truth. He told her all about the son he just met, showed her the summons that will lead to finding him, and how if he has his way, Brandon will be coming home with him the next day. Unlike Brooke with Kyle, he didn't stop there. He told her about the mother of his son. About the night they shared together.

Lucas: "I'm sorry I hurt you Lindsay, but I want to be completely honest with you. I don't know what this means, how I feel or what I want. I don't expect you to forgive me or wait for me to figure all this out."

Responding to his words with a short "it's over," Lindsay walked out, ending their six-month-old relationship. Halfway out the door, she turned around and asked him not to be home the next afternoon, so she could take her stuff from the apartment. Lucas nodded in agreement. He would be in Raleigh all day anyway. The end of something, however brief it may have lasted, calls for a period of mourning. The length is subjective. It's unique to each of us how long it takes to recall the good and the bad, to dissect our mistakes, draw lessons, close the book, and move on. But, sometimes, life has a different plan. There's something more pressing, more important, we have to attend to and the due mourning must take a back seat. That's what happens to Lucas now. As he splashes water on his clean-shaved face, the hope within him makes him forget everything but what he has to do that day. Life has clear instructions for him that morning. Get dressed. Step out. Drive. Find the courthouse. Go in. Stand up. Try. Fight. Do not leave without Brandon. Live. That's all.

Unbeknownst to Lucas, life has almost identical instructions for Brooke, too. They first take her to a street in a poor Raleigh neighbourhood. She gets out of the taxi and asks the driver to wait for her. Staring at the run-down house before her, she looks down at her hand, at the piece of paper with the address she's looking for…Brandon's foster home. She read in the file the private investigator put together on the Walkers that Brandon has been living at this address for the past three months. The whole flight from New York, she debated with herself whether she should just go directly to the courthouse or come here first. A part of her wants to talk to Brandon, to explain what she wants to do without lawyers or a judge present. Another part of her is so scared how he may react that she doesn't want to reveal her plan giving him time to prepare his objections. Being here, now, she knows she has to go inside. See where he lives, the room he sleeps in, meet the people who take care of him. She wants to know him. And, this is a start. So, she walks past the wire fence and up the steps to the front door. She can hear the television and cries of a baby from inside. She knocks on the door, and after a minute or two, a man in his fifties opens the door.

Man: "You lost?"

Brooke: "Uhm…no, I don't think so. I'm looking for Brandon Walker. Are you Mr. Kerry?"

The man laughs first, and then, stares at her like he's mentally undressing her. Brooke doesn't need the beer can in his hand to know he's drunk; she could smell the alcohol from outside the fence.

Man: "I guess there's a first for everything. No one's ever called me a mister. Kerry, you say? Never heard of him. But, you can call me whatever you want, sugar."

B: "Is Brandon here?"

Man: "So you're into the young ones then. I'm always a few decades too old for something or another."

Giving up, he takes a step back and yells for Brandon. Peeking inside, Brooke sees paint-chipped walls around a small, shabby living room with little furniture. She can smell the mold from the walls and the rotting leftovers from the piles of dirty dishes in the kitchen. There are three children under the age of five watching television on the living room floor, and a girl, maybe about twelve years old, standing in the kitchen by the fridge. An older boy, about fifteen, comes out of one of the two doors in the back and yells that Brandon's not there.

Man: "Where did that weasel disappear to this time?"

Boy: "No idea."

Brooke: "Who does he hang out with? Does he work anywhere? Maybe I could find him at a friend's house or at his job?"

Man: "How should I know? You ask too many questions. Are you from social services?"

Brooke: "No, I'm his…I'm just looking for him."

Man: "Look, this ain't my house. These ain't my kids. I'm just babysitting. Sherry's gone to God knows where. Come back later."

Brooke: "But, wait…"

Before she can stop him, the man closes the door on her face. A long time ago, in a hospital room in Charleston, Brooke poured all her future hopes into one powerful wish: good health, happiness, love, and protection for her son. She remembers it well, because there's nothing else she has hoped for ever since. As she quickly runs away from that house and gets back in the taxi, she can feel one more wound cut open…a brand new scar left behind by the disappointment of her only hope unrealized. But, scars don't faze her. She's used to them. On the contrary, they fuel her. She knows you have to let fear and disappointment in with hope. When you fail, you stand up, and try again. And, again. Because, this one wish is too important to not come true. Yes, Brooke Davis knows exactly what she hopes for. Every day for the past sixteen years, she hoped for the very same thing. And, as she tells the taxi driver to take her to the courthouse, she is ready to fight with all she has to get it.

A very similar determination to fight lives within Brandon as well. Standing at the steps of the Raleigh courthouse, he is looking up at the Corinthian columns. They seem so majestic, so formidable. So intimidating. They are the only thing standing between him and freedom. He is early, by about an hour. He hasn't showed up early, or on time for that matter, for anything in years. But, he couldn't sleep the night before. And, this, right here, is the only place he actually wants to be. In just a matter of hours, he will take back his life. The right to live it as he pleases. On his own. By his rules. Away from a broken home where people get paid to care for him. Yet, still don't. Not to mention the two useless strangers who gave him birth. In just a matter of hours, none of that will matter, because he will be emancipated. Freedom. Finally. When his cell phone starts to ring, he takes it out of his back pocket. Sitting down on the courthouse steps, he looks at his phone and sees that the caller is Skylar.

15 years-old, 5'2'', 105lbs, single-white-female, red hair, green eyes, fellow foster child, Brandon Walker's best friend and his only self-selected family. That, in a nutshell, is Skylar V. Madsen. Her mother was a mildly successful model in New York City until she overdosed when Skylar was only eleven years old. She has never met her father, who is supposedly a famous photographer or a cinematographer. Her mother could never really give a straight answer. After her mother's death, she lived in Raleigh with her grandmother before she succumbed to breast cancer. Those two years were the most normal she remembers ever being...someone to cook her breakfast and drive her to school, good grades, sleepovers at friends' homes, weekly ballet lessons. She hasn't put her ballet shoes on since her grandmother passed away. She's been moving from one foster home to another ever since. She inherited her most prominent feature from her mother: the cinnamon and copper tones in the thick, straight, shoulder-length hair. It's what gives her the nickname Red. She didn't inherit the height gene though. Brandon jokes that she's so tiny that she would easily fit in the palm of his hand. He usually calls her Sky, but when he really wants to piss her off, he invokes her middle name, Vinnifred. He's the only one who knows it. She told him what the V stood for one morning when she realized that he watched over her after a long night of booze and pills.

Yes, Skylar is an addict. Growing up with a mother who was high most of the time, she once promised herself she would never touch that poison. That promise went out the door with one brutal attack that ended her childhood. When she was only 13 years old, Skylar Madsen was raped by her first foster father. She hasn't told anyone this. Not even Brandon. She thinks that she can cover the hurt with heavy eye make-up and short skirts. Block out the pain with days of cutting school. Stop the crying with nights of getting high at nightclubs. Forgetting isn't that easy. Living, even harder. A few months ago, she started dating Vik, a twenty-two year old local lowlife who hooks her up with drugs. The first time she got arrested, she was found in a stolen car with him. She doesn't tell Brandon how far and deep her troubles go. She doesn't want to scare away the one friend who truly cares, her only life line, her rock. The brother who will save her from herself. The only person who convinces her that the despair of the here and now isn't permanent. In just a couple of months when she turns sixteen, she'll follow Brandon's lead and file for emancipation. They plan to run away together. Leave the darkness behind. And, that is the only hope Skylar has to hold onto. No matter how much she fears it. Even if it seems too far out of reach.

Flipping open the phone with excitement, Brandon looks around the plaza to see if he can spot Skylar approaching.

Brandon (Br): "Hey. You here yet?"

Skylar: "Hi. That's why I'm calling. I can't make it."

Br: "What the hell, Vinnifred? It's only the most important day of my life!"

S: "You don't think I want to be there? God, I'd give anything to be anywhere but here right now. But, I can't. I'm sorry."

Br: "What happened?"

S: "The morons grounded me. Of all the days, they pick today to decide to wear the parental suit. Idiots."

Br: "What the hell did you do now?"

S: "Jackass. Why do you always assume I did something?"

Br: "Uhm...I've met you?"

S: "Yeah, well, look who's talking? I know exactly where your bodies are buried too, you know."

Br: "Are you going to tell me what happened? Are you ok?"

S: "Fine. Just great. Except, I got arrested."

Br: "Again? When? For what? Damn it, Sky. I'm going to kill that guy. It's him, isn't it? What kind of bullshit did he pull you into this time?"

S: "Relax. It wasn't him. I swear. It was all my damn fault. There was this lame party while you were gone. I stole some of Vik's stash. You know, to liven it up a bit? It just got all out of control. Cops busted the party. And, of course, found yours truly half passed out with the pills."

Br: "Shit. Why didn't you call me? I would have come for you."

S: "That's exactly why I didn't call you. You had to be wherever the hell you were. You know? Charming the pants off the semen and the egg the only way you know how. Besides it's fine. Night in jail. Nothing I haven't done before. Vik bailed me out. So, you see he's not such a bad guy. They can't prove anything. Sometimes, being a minor works wonders. Now, I just have to lay low for a few days while this being grounded thing blows over."

Brandon knows she's not telling him the whole story. She never does. But, pushing her to do something she doesn't want to do always backfires. Kind of like the time when he punched Vik and forbid her from seeing him. All he can do is hope she figures out she's better than all this. Soon.

Br: "You can't do this forever, Sky. Tell me you know that."

S: "I do. I know that. You do your thing today, and in a few months, I'll be free too. And, everything will be different. You'll see. I'll be different. When we're out. Together. I promise."

They both know it won't be that easy. Emancipation is not the answer to Skylar's troubles. At best, it's just a start. But, that's enough for now. And, maybe if they pretend there's hope, they'll actually find it.

Br: "I'll hold you to that. Look, I gotta go. But, I'm going to see you tonight."

S: "I'm pretty sure grounded means no visitors."

Br: "And, that stopped us when?"

S: "Call me the second that bitch in the robe sets you free."

Br: "You got it. Hey, Sky?"

S: "Yeah?"

Br: "Hang in there, will you? We're so close."

S: "Yeah. Now, go. Good luck."

Putting the phone back in his pocket, Brandon starts walking up the steps, past those majestic columns, and through the door into the courthouse. Inside, he asks for directions to the Juvenile Special Proceedings courtroom. As he walks through the crowded hallways and past the uniformed policemen, an uncomfortable feeling of déjà vu begins to awaken. He can't quite place it. He simply pushes it away, because nothing is going to distract him from his mission today. When he finally finds the courtroom and opens the door, he finds that the court is already in session. He takes a seat in the back and waits for his turn. As soon as his jeans hit the cold wooden chair, the earlier sinking feeling returns. And, the moment the judge's gavel strikes the sound block, he knows exactly why. He's remembering the first time he was in a courtroom like this. He hasn't thought of that moment since that day. Almost two years ago, he sat in a chair, just like this one, and watched in silent rage as a judge, just like the one before him now, sentenced the man who killed his parents to seven years in prison. The value of two human lives in single digit years. He overheard the defense attorney tell his client that there was a high probability of early parole in four years with good behaviour. His parents are gone forever. But, the man who killed them could be free in just four years. That is the day hope died all over again for Brandon Walker. At least that day, Skylar was there holding his hand. Now, there's no one on his side of this cold room to offer a comforting hand. When he hears his name being announced, he is immediately pulled out of memories and into the present. He gets up in a hurry, and takes his place up front.

Court Clerk: "Brandon Lucas Walker vs. the State. Hearing on Petition for Emancipation. Are the parties present?"

Br: "I'm here, your honor. Brandon Walker."

Department of Social Services (DSS): "Mary Clark for Department of Social Services, you honor. I'm Brandon's assigned case worker. I've been with him since he joined the foster care system three years ago."

From across the aisle, Brandon and Mary exchange greetings and smiles. This kind woman in his mid-fifties is really the only adult who has ever cared about what happens to him since his parents died. She's the one who located his birth certificate a few months ago. He wishes she didn't get in trouble for sharing a copy with him. That's how he was able to find his birth parents. He's eternally grateful to her for that, because his petition would not have been as strong without their signatures. What Brandon doesn't know is that Mary had a very different hope when she agreed to help him. Her intention was to be the catalyst for his reunion with his parents. She's been working with foster children long enough to know some never find the right fit. Brandon is one of them. She was willing to risk her job to find out if there was even a small chance that finding his birth parents would give him a brand new start. If she knew that Lucas just walked in the courtroom unnoticed, she would know that some risks are definitely worth taking. Seeing that his son's case is about to be heard, Lucas quietly takes a seat close to the front.

Judge Grant (JG): "All right, Mr. Walker."

Br: "Brandon. Your honor, please call me Brandon."

JG: "Ok, Brandon. You're filing for emancipation. I see you're turning sixteen on August 9, in eight days."

Br: "Yes, your honor."

JG: "Tell me about your plans."

Br: "Plans?"

JG: "What are you going to do about school? Place to say? Work? Money? Health care? Plans, young man. Tell me about your plans."

As Lucas leans forward to hear his answer, Brandon starts fidgeting trying to figure out exactly what answer would get him the result he wishes. He's too worried about what words to pick to notice that Brooke walks in. Seeing that the hearing is already in session, Brooke looks around for a seat. She doesn't recognize Lucas at first. But, before she can sit down, something makes her look back again. He's cut his hair, shaved, and is wearing a dark grey suit. When she sees that he's also wearing a tie, the look becomes more of a double-take with raised eyebrows. She tip toes over, takes the seat right behind him, and leans forward to whisper.

Brooke: "What are you doing here?"

It's Lucas' turn to be surprised. Her voice startles him. But, a part of him knows he should have expected her here. He turns around to face her.

Lucas: "I'm guessing the same thing you are."

He turns back to look at Brandon, but Brooke isn't done with him.

B: "What does that mean?"

Lucas turns back to answer.

L: "If you had picked up your phone or, I don't know, returned one of my many voicemails, you'd know exactly why I'm here. Now, shhh, I want to hear what he has to say."

At first, she's annoyed that he basically told her to shut up, but she knows it's partly her fault for not calling him back. Lucas left her three messages since she sneaked out of Haley's home without a word. The first call came while she was with Kyle. More accurately, while Kyle was giving her back the engagement ring. As usual, Lucas's timing sucks. "Brooke, it's me. Please call me. We have to talk." The last thing she wanted to do was to talk about their night, so she intentionally ignored it. The second voicemail only re-affirmed her original intention to pretend he doesn't exist. "Brooke, it's me again. Please call me back as soon as you get this. It's really important." At that moment, he dropped the line because he got interrupted by a woman: "Hey babe, you're back!" Brooke got furious for a second that he had a girlfriend, but then remembered she had no right. She doesn't care if he sleeps with a different woman every night. It's not like she can accuse him of cheating. Something about stones and glass houses invalidates that accusation. She simply turned off her cell phone so that she didn't have to deal with him that night. She hasn't checked her voicemail yet, so she still hasn't heard the final message from last night. "This is classic Brooke. I get it. Go ahead and ignore me. But, one of these days you'll realize I'm not going anywhere. And, you'll have to talk to me. You can try, but you won't be able to ignore me forever. I need to tell you something. I'm about to do something Brooke, and I really need to talk to you about it first. Please call me back. Doesn't matter what hour it is." When Brandon starts talking, Brooke shakes the voicemails out of her head and leans forward to listen.

Br: "My plans, ok. Here it is. I will drop out school and get a job. But, I can get my GED. Study at night. School's important."

JG: "Do you have a job lined up?"

Br: "No, not yet. But, I have applications out there. I'm waiting to hear."

JG: "I understand. What about a place of residence?"

Br: "There's this studio downtown. I saw it the other day and it's perfect."

JG: "How will you pay for rent?"

Br: "I have some money saved for the deposit and I'll get a job."

JG: "Brandon, you will need a guarantor or a someone to co-sign your rental agreement. But, that's not even your worst problem. Mrs. Clark, your file states that Brandon has been with thirteen foster homes over the last three years. That's a lot, isn't it?"

DSS: "Yes, your honor. He tends to change homes quite often. For a multitude of reasons."

Br: "You can't put that on me."

JG: "Young man, are you suggesting thirteen different families were unsuitable for you because they each had problems while you were an angel?"

Until that moment, in the short time they've known him, Brooke and Lucas have never seen Brandon speechless, without an answer.

JG: "I'm going to be straight with you, Brandon. I am not granting you emancipation today. You have no income, no home. No tangible plans. I'm not even sure you can cover your court costs. You are hereby returned to the custody of the State. You will go back to live with the last foster family of record, Mr. And Mrs. Kerry."

Before the judge can strike the gavel, declaring it her final verdict, Brooke stands up and loudly objects.

Brooke: "No, you can't do that!"

Hearing Brooke's voice, Brandon turns around and sees both her and Lucas.

Br: "What the hell are you two doing here?"

JG: "Excuse me? Order! Last I checked, this was my courtroom. Who are these people?"

B: "I'm Brandon's mother."

It's Brandon's turn to loudly object, so he turns towards the judge.

Br: "She's not my mother."

Brooke can't deny that hurts. But, there's no time to feel the pain.

B: "Your honor, I don't mean to disrespect you. I'm Brandon's birth mother. Could please hear me out?"

JG: "Mrs. Clark, is this true?"

Unable to hide her excitement over the pleasant surprise of these two arrivals, the case worker hands the judge the file on Brandon with the birth certificate, adoption papers, and basic driver's license information on Brooke and Lucas.

JG: "Brooke Penelope Davis, is that you?"

B: "Yes, your honor."

JG: "And, are you Lucas Eugene Scott?

L: "Yes, I am."

Br: "Wait a second. What is going on here? These people mean nothing to me. Your honor, they both signed my petition."

JG: "I see that, but those signatures are not valid. They were neither witnessed nor notarized."

While Brandon is confused and bewildered, Brooke and Lucas both exhale a sigh of relief at the same time, and a faint smile comes across their faces.

Br: "This cannot be happening."

JG: "Now, Mr. Scott, Ms. Davis...neither of you has a criminal record?"

B: "No."

L: "No, your honor."

JG: "Do you own or rent your place of residence?"

B: "Own."

L: "Rent."

JG: "Your profession?"

B: "I own my company, your honor. I'm the CEO of a fashion label. Steady income."

L: "I work as a mechanic. I don't own the shop, but it's a good living. Your honor."

Br: "I'm sorry. This is a nightmare. Your honor, why exactly are you asking them these questions?"

JG: "Patience, young man. Ms. Davis, you asked the court to hear you. Please, go ahead."

Brooke looks at Brandon first, and then at Lucas, who slowly takes a seat leaving the limelight squarely on her.

B: "Thank you. I know I have no right to ask you this, but I'm going to anyway. Please don't send him back to that house. I was there this morning, and I can't let him live there. Please, your honor."

JG: "What would you have me do, Ms. Davis?"

B: "He can live with me."

It just comes out. She doesn't flinch once. She doesn't need to think about. It's exactly what Brooke wants.

Br: "No way. Judge, I'm fine with foster care."

JG: "Brandon, you need to stay quiet unless you are asked a question. Do you understand that?"

Br: "Yes."

JG: "All right, Ms. Davis, you are not a resident of North Carolina. You live and work in the state of New York, correct?"

B: "Yes."

JG: "I'm afraid I cannot grant custody of a minor to an out-of-state guardian."

All of a sudden that wound cut at the site of Brandon's foster home stings again. Hope unrealized. As Brooke slowly sits down in defeat, it's Lucas's turn to start fighting. So, he stands up decisively.

L: "I live in the State. Let me take him."

Br: "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

JG: "Brandon! Mr. Scott, your driver's license says you live in Tree Hill, North Carolina."

L: "Your honor, I...uhm...actually live in Charlotte."

JG: "Better update your license Mr. Scott. You have an inaccurate address on record, you rent your home. Sounds to me like you don't have a permanent place of residence. You move around often? Change jobs frequently?"

L: "Yes, but that can change."

JG: "Have you ever taken care of a dependent?

L: "No, your honor."

Just like that, Lucas knows he's about to lose the battle. In a few simple questions, this person who doesn't know him at all has decided that he's not fit to be a parent.

JG: "The decision I have to make is to figure out what is in the petitioner's best interest. I see no reasonable cause either emancipation or placement under Mr. Scott's custody results in Mr. Walker's best interest. I have no authority to even consider Ms. Davis as a guardian. Unless anyone has any objections, in light of everything I heard today, I'm denying the petition."

Brooke looks at Lucas the moment she hears unless anyone has any objections. It's like her eyes are silently begging for him to have an objection, save the day. Rescue her. Rescue their son. As he searches for anything to say, he feels his heart pound in his chest. He let them down once. A long time ago. He can't do it again. And, when he gets up to speak, he's not sure where he will take it. Maybe, it's best that way. Because, if Lucas Scott had known what he would end up doing, he may have taped his mouth shut. And, if Brooke Davis had known what he would end up suggesting, she may have handed him the tape herself.

L: "Your honor, we haven't told you everything yet. You see, Brooke is moving to North Carolina. Soon. Yes. Very soon. Because...well, because she...we're engaged. Yes, Brooke and I are getting married. Uhm...and, we are moving to...Tree Hill. Yes, we're actually house shopping right now. So, you could grant custody to both of us...and we would live here... in the state and...be living together...married...to each other."

JG: "Ms. Davis, is that true?"

In shock and disbelief, Brooke just stares at Lucas who's nodding his head, telling her to confirm the blatant lie he just told. Just a minute ago, wasn't she the one wishing he would do something, anything, to change the judge's mind? Could this preposterous story be it? It's like there's a knot in her stomach. It travels up her throat and threatens to choke her. She swallows, pushing it down. She looks at Brandon and bites her bottom lip. This is it. This is what she has to do. And, didn't she promise herself she would fight with all she has to get him back? When she looks back at Lucas, he knows what she'll do. He recognizes the determined look. She reaches inside the purse on her lap for Kyle's ring inside the velvet box. Her hand still in the purse, she slips it on the ring finger of her left hand. She slowly stands up, holds her hand up, and shows everyone the diamond ring that screams her engagement.

B: "Yes, your honor."

JG: "Congratulations. Brandon, I'm releasing you into Mr. Scott's temporary custody. I am making this decision on good faith that when Ms. Davis moves to North Carolina, the petition for joint custody will be filed. This case shall be transferred to the County Court at Tree Hill. Department of Social Services will reassess the situation in one month. Let me be clear, Mr. Scott and Ms. Davis, that means a home visit in Tree Hill in thirty days. I expect the report to include your marriage certificate. And of course, details on the life of the newlyweds and your new home. Until a permanent custody decision can be made, these visits will continue on a monthly basis. Young man, you can appeal this decision within ten days after my order is entered. But, I wouldn't suggest it. You have a chance to have a family. Take it. Case is dismissed."

As the judge's gavel hits the sound block marking her final verdict, Brooke and Lucas are left standing motionless, staring at each other in shock. Hope realized. Dream come true. Battle won. But, at what cost exactly? As Brooke turns to her right, she's blinded by the fury in Brandon's eyes. Lucas remains looking at the four karat pink diamond ring on her finger. Clearly not his. That's the thing with hope. Sometimes, it's pure deceit slowly tormenting us. The worst of all evils. A universal lie. And, that fight for something...it never ends.

"Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope."
~Maya Angelou, American poet