Disclaimer: I own nothing except the newly fixed Mac in which I wrote this on…

The Bonfire of the Vanities

-xx-

The Reluctant Heroes Step Up

"We can spend our lives letting the world tell us who we are. Sane or insane. Saints or sex addicts. Heroes or victims. Letting history tell us how good or bad we are. Letting our past decide our future. Or we can decide for ourselves. And maybe it's our job to invent something better."

―Chuck Palahniuk

-xx-

Nathan wakes up sometime after ten a.m. He walks downstairs, the smell of pancakes calling him from the kitchen. "Mornin', gorgeous," he places his hands on his wife's hips, presses a kiss to her neck, "I got in pretty late last night, you were already sleeping."

"I know. I hate it when you have to catch the red eye." Haley pecks his lips softly, serves up a plate of pancakes to Jamie and Sawyer, "Eat up, you two."

Jamie takes a big bite out of his pancakes, "Yeah," he agrees, "I hate it when you get home too late, Dad. Momma's right."

Nathan smirks, "Your momma's always right, son." he tells him, gives him a morning kiss. He blows on Sawyer's cheek playfully eliciting giggles from the girl, "And a good morning to you, too, kid."

Haley smiles at her husband's antics, "James, how about you two take those upstairs," she offers, "Have breakfast in bed?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jamie rolls his eyes knowingly, "Grown-up talk." he helps his baby cousin off her stool, "I get it." He then leads Sawyer upstairs.

Nathan takes Haley's coffee cup, "Too smart for his own good." he takes a sip. "What exactly is going on in our living room right now?" Their moves are practically synchronized together as they tiptoe to sneak a peak at Brooke and Lucas still asleep, cuddled up together in their living room couch.

"I came home and found them like that," Haley explains as she steals back her coffee cup, "Sawyer and Jamie were cuddled up with them, too." she adds, "Kids woke up early, but those two... They've been passed out together since yesterday. And they look so...peaceful, I guess. I didn't want to wake them."

Nathan sighs, "Why are my spidey-senses tingling right now?" They hear noise coming from the living room and peek their heads in once more.

Brooke and Lucas are up and at them, they yawn and stretch their arms over their head, "Geez, it's morning already?"

"Guess we fell asleep." Lucas answers easily. He flashes her a smile, and she can't help but to smile back at him. They've done this before, falling asleep together on the couch. It feels like...intimacy.

Nathan raises an eyebrow skeptically, "Uh, morning," he says.

Haley subtly elbows her husband in his ribcage, "There's breakfast in the kitchen."

"By the way, Chris and I are singing at TRIC tonight!" Haley informs them enthusiastically, "We've been working on a bunch of songs, and we're gonna do a local show. Kind of testing it out, see if people like it. I already got tickets for everyone."

Nathan presses a kiss to the side of his wife's head, "Babysitter's all set up, babe." he says, "Rachel's leaving Jax here, too. In case you wanna add Sawyer to the list."

"Yeah, thanks," Lucas nods, "I'll definitely be there."

Brooke grins, "Me, too!"

"Good!" Haley pulls out some VIP passes and hands them over, but holds a third one in her hand, "Oh...um, Brooke? Do you wanna give Clay his ticket?"

Nathan can instantly read the hesitation on Brooke's face, "You know what, I can do it," he says, takes the ticket out of Haley's hand, "I'm supposed to meet him today to talk about yesterday's conference anyways." Brooke winks at him conspiratorially, mouths him a thank-you.

Nathan winks back, gives her the nod. He glances at the watch on his wrist, "And I'm already late. See ya later, honey," he pecks Haley's lips, hugs Brooke goodbye and fist-bumps Lucas before heading out.

Haley clears her throat, "So, tonight at seven," she says, glances between Brooke and Lucas, "You two want some breakfast?"

Brooke checks the watch on the copper-haired mother's wrist, "Ugh, crap! I'm late, I gotta go." she says as she ties her hair up in messy pony tail, "But I will be there at seven."

"Um, hey," Lucas holds her gaze for a moment, "You wanna head down there together? I can pick you up."

Brooke flashes him a smile, "Yeah. Sure." she answers, steals a piece of toast from Haley's plate, "I will see you both tonight, then."

-xx-

It's officially Carter and Ezra's last day in Tree Hill. They've done what they came here to do (and then some). Clay was all right, more or less, and Carter had stirred up enough drama in his short stay in town. Their flights leave in three hours, and they're helping Clay unpack what's left of his boxes before heading off to the airport.

"This one's clothes," Ezra says as he hands Carter a box, "Empty it out in that dresser."

Carter does as he is asked, opens up the top drawer and something catches his eye. He sees the little blue box tied with a white satin ribbon and immediately recognizes it. He is a born and bred New Yorker from the Upper East Side—he can identify a Tiffany's box from a twenty feet distance. "Damn." he takes out the box, turns to Ezra, "Check this out, Fitz." he says, opening it.

Ezra glances at it and lets out a low whistle, "Jesus. Talk about shitting it up for Clay, Baze."

Carter Baizen finds himself at a loss for words. Finally he sighs, "Clay," he starts his eyes wide, "I-I'm sorry. I had no idea you were this serious about Brooke."

Clay comes out of the bedroom, sees Carter with the box and rolls his eyes, "It's not for Brooke," he snatches the box out of his friend's hands, "I mean, it's not not for Brooke, either. It's..." he pauses, sighs, "Last year, my Mom sat me down and gave this long talk about me finding the right woman and settling down and all that stuff, and then she gave me the ring. It was my grandmother's. I don't know, she just said that when I find the one, I should give it to her. It's been living in that drawer ever since." he opens his dresser's top drawer and stashes the ring in there again.

Clay's hands rest atop the now closed drawer, his cobalt-blue eyes glossy as he gazes into midair thoughtfully. Carter and Ezra exchange glances for a seconds. "And do you think Brooke is?" Ezra asks calmly, "The one, I mean. Do you think Brooke's the girl you want to be with forever?"

"Clay!" Nathan's voice calls from downstairs, "It's me, man, open up."

Saved by the motherfucking bell, Clay thinks. "That's work." he answers instead, "You two try to behave, huh,"

"Hey, dude," Clay greets Nathan, "I didn't catch the interviews last night, sorry. But tell me how everything went."

Nathan raises an eyebrow, "It went fine. You know me. Said all the right things, smiled at all the right times. It was gravy." he answers easily, "What happened to you last night? And why do I get the distinct feeling that Brooke is avoiding you?"

"Ugh, it's complicated," Clay groans, "Look, Ez broke things off with his girlfriend, and Carter wanted a guy's night. So we headed off to Raleigh, hit a couple of bars, checked out a strip club," he tells him, "Apparently Carter had my phone when B. texted about getting together and Carter answered like a dickhead, saying we were off at a strip club."

Nathan nods in understanding, "Explains why she didn't wanna come over to drop this off," he hands Clay the VIP pass for tonight's show, "Seven o'clock. Don't be late."

"B.'s avoiding me now?"

Nathan sighs, hands tucked in his jeans' pockets, "Look, I told ya I don't wanna get in the middle of this. I'm not gonna play spy for you like we're in middle school or something." he says firmly, "You need to talk to Brooke."

Clay chuckles at Nathan's words, "Yeah. You're right. Fine." he says, "Thanks, man."

"It's what I'm here for." Nathan bumps shoulders with him, heads towards the door, "And start doing your job, man. At least TiVo the freaking conferences so you can pretend you're doing something." he jokes.

"Will do."

Carter and Ezra poke their head out of the bedroom then, "So...B. didn't think the text was a funny joke?"

"No," Clay glares, "B. clearly did not." he picks up his coat, "I'm gonna do damage control. I'll be back in time to drop you two off, alright?"

Ezra nods, "Yeah. That's fine. Um, we'll finish up here."

"Thanks." Clay says half-heartedly, he slides down the fire pole and heads outside.

-xx-

Clay arrives at the Clothes-Over-Bro's store bearing coffee. "Mocha double latte, extra foam," he flashes an endearing lopsided grin, slides the coffee cup over the counter to wards the brunette.

Brooke reluctantly takes the paper coffee cup, doesn't sip it. "What's up, Clay?"

"Wow. Okay. Um, you're mad." Clay takes a breath, "Look, the whole text thing was just a stupid misunderstanding."

"Clay." Brooke stops him, and there's an eery calm to her voice, "You are not my boyfriend. You don't owe me any explanations. If you want to go to a strip club, then you can go. It is not any of my business."

Clay can sense the passive aggressiveness radiating off of the petite brunette. "Brooke, seriously." he says, "I know you're upset. And it's fine—"

"—No. I get it." Brooke's voice is firm, "You tell me that Lucas isn't a bad guy, and that I can go be with him. And then you go off to a strip club. I think the message in that is pretty clear."

Clay groans, "It wasn't like that."

"Save it, Clay." Brooke practically hisses, "I know who you are. And the truth of the matter is people don't change. We're not together, you've made no commitment to me, so you owe me no explanations. It's fine."

"Brooke, c'mon. It is not like that at all. Look, just let me explain, okay?" he smiles over at her, ever the charmer. "Five minutes, c'mon."

"I just told you there's no need to. And I think we're done here." Brooke whispers, "So please just leave. Now."

-xx-

TRIC is packed, a large crowd gathered in front of the stage. Haley James-Scott and Chris Keller's comeback is a definite hit. The place is filled to capacity, and there's still a line outside.

Brooke and Lucas stand with Nathan near the stage, clapping along to the rhythm of the song. "I'll go get us some drinks, all right?" Brooke tells them over the music.

Clay spots Brooke through the crowd sitting at the bar, "Brooke—"

"—Clay!" Brooke cuts him off, shakes her head, "You need to stop. Okay? You are my best friend," she sighs deeply, "But maybe what happened between us was just...a fling. And if that's what it was, then we need to let it go and move on already. I don't need you to change for me. I don't need you to become my boyfriend. It's fine."

Clay licks his lips, "Brooke, it's not like that. Just listen to me. I don't want to change because I think that's what's gonna win you over, okay. You...you make want to be better. I'm certainly more of a man and less of a boy when I'm with you. You're not a fling, Brooke. You were never a fling. You're..." he sighs, flashes her a grin, "Brooke, you're the one. And I don't ever want you to think you're anything less than that. Not to me."

Brooke wants to think Clay's just spitting out his usual lines and laying on his charm, but she knows him too well. She can hear the sincerity in his voice. She can see the earnest look in his cobalt-blue eyes. She can tell Clay's not looking to get her to jump into his arms. He just wants her to realize that she matters, that she's not just another notch in his bedpost. "Fine." she relents, "Lets just drop it then. It's fine."

Clay rolls his eyes—Brooke's said fine so much that it doesn't even sound like a word anymore. "Fine, then," he relents, "I need some air." And with that, he steps outside for a few minutes.

Haley owns the stage, her sweet demeanor and powerful voice easily drawing eyes to her. "Didn't want to make a mess. Didn't want to feel again. This heart has had enough."

Chris Keller sits at the Steinway, his agile fingers hitting the ivory keys with precision. His voice is still as smooth as ever: "Desperate, hurting, all alone. Call a house that isn't home, afraid to pick it up."

And when their voices blend together, the crowd goes wild. Fans shriek, waving their lighters in the air, "All I want is someone to tell me I'm crazy. It just might save me. Oh, all I need is someone right here beside me."

Then someone sees it. The stage's backdrop is going up in flames.

"OH MY GOD—FIRE!"

And that's when all hell breaks loose. People flee en mass towards the exits, shoving anything or anyone that gets in their way.

Chris Keller loops an arm around Haley's waist and they jump of the stage, immediately finding Nathan and heading towards the nearest exit. They are among the first outside, and it's Haley who dials 911 even though the fire alarm is blaring.

Lucas grabs Brooke and thrusts her petite body in front of his, shoving people away like a possessed linebacker. "GO! GO!" his hand slips out of hers in the tussle of the crowd.

Brooke glances back searching for Lucas, but instead sees Peyton on the floor trying to get up. Fuck me, she thinks.

Then she pushes back against the crowd currently swarming towards the exit, "PEYTON!" Brooke's fingers slide into Peyton's belt loops, her other hand grabbing the back of the blonde's shirt and pulling her to her feet, "Peyton! C'mon!" she urges, thanks god that Peyton is still as skinny as a wooden board, "We gotta get outta here! C'MON!"

Outside, Rachel and Lucas are in a heated argument. "You idiot!" the redhead yells, "You had her! I saw you helping her out! How the fuck did you lose her?"

Lucas' face is red, that vein in his forehead popping out, "I thought she was in front of me!" he yells back, "I thought she was out already!"

It's then that Rachel sees Brooke dragging Peyton out the club's door. Both of their faces are stained black from the soot, "BROOKE!" the redhead rushes towards them, helps Brooke hand Peyton off to a paramedic. "Hey, are you okay?" she asks as she hugs the brunette tightly.

Brooke coughs a little, "I'm fine. I'm good." she nods, "It's all right."

Lucas runs towards her then, cups the brunette's face in his hands, "What the hell? You were right in front of me—I pulled you right in front of me! Where'd you disappear to?"

"I just..." Brooke shakes her head, "I had to...I'm fine." she concludes instead. "It's all right."

Rachel lets out a breath, "Not it's not." she says, "Nathan's still in there!" — "Clay's still in there!" Haley and Rachel say simultaneously.

Brooke's hazel eyes widen, "What? Clay's still inside?" she grips the redhead's arms, "Clay is inside?"

"Nathan went after him!" Haley shrieks, her body shaking with sobs. It's Jake who's holding her back from running towards the flames.

It's more than enough to send some new adrenaline surging through Brooke's veins. She drops Rachel's arms, starts making her way back towards the club. Lucas glances to Jake, "You got her? Do you have her?" he asks gesturing towards Haley as he runs to catch up to Brooke.

"I have her." Jake assures him, his grip on the copper-haired mother tightening.

Lucas yells back, "Good, hold her back!" he finally reaches Brooke, "NO!" he slings his arms around the brunette's petite waist, hefting her up into the air to swing her around and away from the fire. "I'll get him! Stay here! I'll get him for you! Just stay here!" Lucas orders, already making his way towards the fire, "Rachel, do not let her go!"

Rachel doesn't need to be told twice, automatically looping an arm around her best friend's waist, "Brooke, Brooke, Brooke!" she holds her back tightly, but the brunette struggles fiercely swinging her elbows back and slamming them into the redhead's ribcage. "BROOKE!" Rachel yells more firmly this time, "YOU ARE NOT GOING BACK IN THERE!"

Seconds pass by like hours. "It's been a long time." Brooke states, her arm linked with Haley's and her fingers digging into the copper-haired mother's forearm. Haley grips the brunette just as tightly, but neither woman seems to feel it.

"It hasn't been that long." Rachel answers automatically—she's counting the minutes. She's running on autopilot right now, making sure neither Brooke nor Haley panic more than they need to.

One of the firefighters (or maybe it's a paramedic, it's not like they're paying attention to that right now) notices Brooke and Haley struggling to catch their breath. "You two need to come to the truck," he says, "You're pale and diaphoretic, and you've got shortness of breath. C'mon."

Brooke and Haley resist. They are not moving until their men come out. Rachel sighs, grabs Brooke's face in her hands, "Listen to me," she locks eyes with the brunette, speaks clearly and calmly, "Brooke, listen. You need to go with them, okay? You don't want Clay and Lucas to come out and find you're hurt, all right. You need to be strong." she cuts her eyes to Haley, "And you need to be strong, too, Hales. Nathan's gonna pissed if he finds out you didn't take care of yourself."

And this does the trick. Slowly but surely Brooke and Haley follow the man over to the truck.

Haley, Brooke and Peyton sit in the back of one of the fireman's trucks, oxygen masks on their faces. Brooke sits in the middle, and none of them dare to speak. Not right now.

Until Peyton pierces the deathly silence, "Why'd you do it?" she asks suddenly.

"What?" Brooke lowers the oxygen mask, gives the skinny blonde a puzzled look.

(Haley seems to be completely unaware of the conversation.)

Peyton slides the mask off her face as well, "Pull me out." she clarifies, "You didn't have to. Why'd you come back for me?"

Brooke's hazel eyes look away, stare into the bright colors of the flames. Shades of reds and oranges blending together hotly. When she blinks, just for a second, she can almost hear the piercing BAM! from when the gunpowder ignited inside the bullet the day Jimmy Edwards snuck a gun into school and changed everyone's lives forever. "I owed you." Brooke answers with a perfunctory tone, "And I wasn't about to leave you behind twice." she sighs deeply, repeats, "I owed you." then, "And now we're even."

Rachel keeps an eye on Brooke from a distance, continually glancing between her two friends and TRIC's door. It's almost as if she's attempting to will Nathan and Lucas and Clay to walk out. She wants to shriek in frustration when it doesn't work.

"Rachel," Haley approaches her slowly, "Have you heard anything new? Have the firemen said anything?"

Rachel know that the firemen aren't going in right now because the building's roof is starting to collapse and they're opening holes in one the exterior non-load bearing wall for ventilation, hoping to get out the few people that are left inside. They're hurrying, but either way it's taking longer than Rachel wants it to. "They're doing the best they can. And it hasn't been that long, Hales. They'll come out any minute. I know it." She's amazed by how easily the words spill from her mouth. "If I hear anything I'll run over to tell you. But you need to go back to the paramedics, okay? You gotta let them take care of that cut." There's a small cut in Haley's forearm, and it's probably nothing major, but Rachel can't handle her right now. She is barely holding it together as it is.

Jake furrows his brow, "What are you doing?"

"What do ya mean?"

"You don't know if they're gonna be okay." Jake says, "It's only been a couple of minutes, but there's a lot of smoke. You heard the fireman—the structure is collapsing."

Rachel scoffs, "I'm trying to comfort her." she says, "And I'm doing my best."

"I'm sorry. I know. But we shouldn't be giving her false hope. I've already seen two body bags, Rae."

The comment makes bile rise up in the redhead's throat, "Well, what do you suggest we do, then?"

"I don't know." Jake answers, "Try to prepare her for the worse?"

"I don't pray." Rachel whispers suddenly, "I don't go to church. I have no clout with God." her brown eyes lift towards the night sky, "But I could really use a miracle right about now. I mean it. I am barely holding it together here, Jake. So I need you to shut up, and let me handle this the only way I know how."

"Yeah. Maybe a moment of silence wouldn't be such a bad idea." Jake's fingers twitch at his sides as he intensely watches the TRIC club door, waiting for his friends to come out, worrying that they won't. Rachel can immediately see the need to do something written on her boyfriend's face. The redhead lays a hand upon Jake's shoulder, "Don't you dare." she hisses, her other hand gripping Jake's arm tightly. "You can't leave me now." she adds softly.

"I'm sorry." Jake looks away, wraps his strong arms around Rachel, "Of course I'm not leaving you." he presses a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm sorry. It's gonna be okay."

Rachel buries her face in his chest, breathes in the scent of his Acqua Di Gio cologne. It's oddly comforting right about now. "It's never gonna be the same again." she whispers.

Two cops approach them then. "We need to speak to you," they start, "I understand you know two of the men who ran inside." It's not a question, but they pause waiting for her to answer, "Ma'am, I understand you've just gone through a trauma, but we need you to talk to us so we can get a better handle on the situation."

Rachel's eyes leave the sky then, she glances at the cops, "Three." she corrects, "There are three men inside. Clayton Evans. Lucas Scott. And Nathan Scott. They're still in there. I don't know how the fire started, I guess it spread through the air vents..." Rachel hugs herself as she tries to piece everything together to recount what happened for the police officers, "Smoke started coming from the vent on the stage, and then someone screamed FIRE! All hell broke lose after that. The Emergency door was locked 'cause some kids were sneaking booze in through there and Chase had locked it up. That's when the shit really hit the fan. Chris had grabbed Haley and they'd jumped off the stage—I guess that's when Nathan grabbed her and got her out. They were the first ones outside, I think. I-I looked for Brooke, and Lucas had her—he was pushing her outside in front of him. He had her. So Jake and I held each other tight and shoved our way out. But when I got outside, Brooke wasn't out yet. Nathan and Chris and Haley and Jake were all there, and we could see Lucas was coming out, but Brooke wasn't anywhere in sight. And that's when Clay went in after her—he was already outside before the fire started. But then Brooke came out a few seconds later carrying Peyton. Nathan went back inside after that because he wanted to get Clay out. 'Cause Clay wasn't going to find Brooke. Brooke was already outside. I think the paramedics took Peyton away, and that's when Brooke and Lucas found out that Clay and Nathan were inside. Brooke wanted to go in, but Lucas wouldn't let her. He went in after them both..."

-xx-

"NATHAN! CLAY!" Lucas yells out for them in between a fit of coughs. The smoke is so thick he can barely see, and he can see there's four guys passed out on the floor, but none of them are Nathan or Clay.

"Lucas?" Clay calls out from across the bar, "Why're you still in here?"

Lucas moves towards Clay, "We have go! We have to get outta here!" The roof is already starting to come down piece by piece.

Clay yanks his arm away from Lucas' grip. "NOT WITHOUT BROOKE!"

"She's already outside!" Lucas responds, "C'mon! I told Brooke I'd get you! I promised her—get out now! I have to get Nathan!"

"Nate's inside?" Clay starts calling out for his best friend before getting an answer, "NATHAN! NATE!" he looks around, trying to spot him through the smoke, "NATHAN! Why'd he even come back here!"

Lucas rushes towards the back—it's the one place he hasn't looked in yet. "He came back for you!" Clay just follows him in silence. That's when they spot Nathan passed out on the floor. Shit. They prop him up, make sure the raven-haired Scott is still breathing (thank God he still is), and between them carry him outside.

Firemen and cops and paramedics are waiting for them outside. Nathan's immediately put in an ambulance, and Haley goes with him to the hospital.

Clayton Evans and Lucas Scott are greeted as heroes for valiantly going into the fire and getting Nathan Scott out alive.

Brooke stands alone, watches the two blue-eyed men in her life standing tall, their clothes stained back. She wants to do something, say something. But she can't move. She's stuck standing still watching Lucas and Clay. Because she feels whoever she approaches first will end up deciding something bigger.

"Hey," Rachel calls out softly, "Brooke, we need to go. You need to be cleared by the paramedics." she reaches to touch the brunette, wraps an arm around her shoulders, "Come on. Jake's driving us down to the hospital."

Funny thing is, neither Lucas nor Clay feel particularly heroic.

Not right now.

-xx-

The hospital waiting room is surprisingly empty. Most patients are still in ER and trauma, but Nathan's already in a room. Nurses and doctors are running around, and you can feel it in the air that there has been some sort of catastrophe.

Brooke and Rachel sit side by side in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs in complete silence. "You know that expression 'I'd die for you'? People say it all the time. I mean, it's a cliché in pretty much every ove-speech in cheesy movies. But you never think it'd actually happen." Brooke shakes her head, "Two people almost died for me tonight. Three almost died because of me."

"Brooke—"

"—Don't. Don't tell me it's not true because it is." There is a mix of anger and guilt in the brunette's voice, "Clay went into that fire because he thought I was in there. Lucas went in after him so that I wouldn't. Because he knew I'd never leave Clay behind. And Nathan...he wanted to save his best friend, and now he's in there lying in a hospital bed."

Rachel breathes deeply, "You did not start that fire, Brooke. Don't put that on yourself. And Nathan, Lucas, Clay—they're all adults. They made their own choices. And that is not on you."

Brooke scoffs, "How can you be so emotionless about this? Eight people died, Rae! Who knows how many more to come..."

This pisses Rachel off further. "I know people died!" she yells, "You don't have to tell me that! You don't have to tell me that three of our closest friends almost died tonight because I know. And I know because I was the one dealing with the cops and the firemen, answering all their questions. I was the one begging Jake to not go in there. And because while you and Haley were in shock, I was the one who was holding you back! You were fighting my arms so hard and you struggled so much, and you were about to run into a fuckin' burning building, and I had to HOLD-YOU-BACK!" she sounds out the words carefully, tears (maybe of sadness, maybe of relief, maybe of anger) pool at the corner of her eyes, "I held onto you for dear life! Look at your arms, look at your waist—those aren't from when you shoved your way outta TRIC. Those are from my fingertips digging into your skin so hard that they left a fuckin' bruise!"

The redhead's anger hits Brooke like a ton of bricks. "Rae—"

"—No." Rachel's on a roll now, and she will not stop. Not until she says her piece. "You don't. You do not get to say anything because you are scaring the shit out of me! First you're drinking half your weight in tequila, then you're standing on the edge of a fucking rooftop, and now you're running head first into a fire! We're not seventeen anymore, Brooke. All the hedonism is supposed to be over now. You can't keep living your life thinking you're invincible. People are supposed to run away from death, and I feel like you're running headfirst into it." she shakes her head, "And I don't know what to do anymore! I don't know how to pull you through this!"

Brooke frowns, "That's not true." she says in her defense, "And didn't you just say that Clay, Lucas, and Nathan ran in there, too."

"It's different." Rachel tells her.

"How?"

Rachel looks Brooke right in the eyes, "I am not worried that they're living their lives to the ethos of no tomorrow." she explains, "I'm not worried they're being reckless with their lives."

Brooke rolls her eyes in disbelief, "For God's sakes, Rachel, I am not suicidal."

"I know you're not." answers Rachel, her tone more relaxed now, "But you are definitely something, and I don't know what." she pauses, "That's what worries me."

Another awkward silence settles between them, and this time it's Rachel who breaks it, "You know what's really ironic? If no one had tried to play hero, we'd all be okay right now." she says remarkably matter-of-factly. She clears her throat, "And by the way, there are two guys over there—who, as you pointed out, were literally willing to die for you—and they're waiting for you to say something. Anything. So go over there. Put them out of their misery already."

Clay and Lucas stand at least five feet away from each other. Neither moves when they see the brunette moving towards them.

Brooke glances between them, turns to Clay. "Clay, can you give us a minute?" Her voice does not sound like her own. It's raspier. It's quieter. It's meeker. She does not recognize it.

"Brooke." Clay searches her eyes because she can't just be sending him away right now. But he receives no response, only a silence that seems to stretch on forever. "Brooke!" he repeats more forcefully.

But Brooke doesn't seem to be all there right now. "Just...give us a minute, okay?"

Brooke turns to face Lucas. The brooder's stands tall, but looks more beaten down than ever. His stained face reveals a mixture of emotions: pain, worry, relief—a canvas of conflicting feelings. He wraps his arms around her, hugging her tightly, "Thank you, Lucas." She whispers. And it's a thank you for everything: for going into the fire for her, for making it out alive, for holding her now.

"You don't have to say it, okay?" Lucas' fingers run through her chocolate locks of hair, "You don't have to say anything. I wouldn't...I couldn't let my Pretty Girl go in there." He pulls back, locks eyes with her, "I promised I'd rescue you this time, remember?"

Brooke nods, "I know." She says, "Thanks."

"How're you doing right now?" Lucas cups her face in his hands, "Are you all right? Did a doctor check you out already?"

"I'm fine." Brooke assures him steadily, "Y-you should go, Luke. Go sit with Haley. Nathan hasn't woken up yet."

Lucas furrows his brown. Her tone feels distant. It feels like a dismissal. "Brooke—"

"—It's all right." Brooke cuts him off gently, "Please just go." Lucas kisses her forehead before reluctantly walking away.

Clay is leaning against the counter at the nurse's station. Brooke makes her way towards him slowly. She taps his shoulder, and when she looks into his cobalt-blue eyes she can immediately see how doleful he feels right now—his pain practically palpable. "Hey..."

"Brooke..." Clay's voice falters, and that never happens to him. Brooke's arms circle his waist and he holds onto her tightly, "I was so scared. I thought you were still in there and I just..." he buries his face into her hair (which by some remarkable miracle still smells sweet), "I lost it. I didn't-I didn't think of anything—all I knew was that I had to get you out. I had to make sure you were safe. And now Nate's... It's because of me. He wouldn't have gone in there if it weren't for me."

It's strange how even in a crisis they're so in sync—both eager to shoulder the blame for this. Brooke gently runs her fingers through his hair in an attempt to comfort him. "Shh. Shh. It's okay." She whispers, "It's gonna be okay. We're all okay. And Nathan's is going to wake up soon."

Clay looks into her hazel eyes and he can see her pain, too. He can see the guilt, and he wants to say something to take it all away. All he wants in that moment is to find some way to make it better for her. "I'm here for you. Whatever you need. I promise I am not going to leave you."

It's the first thing to elicit a small smile from the brunette that night, "Hey, thanks for running into a burning building to save me."

"Always." Clay answers with an affectionate grin.

"I do care about you, Clay." Brooke presses her lips to his for a second. There's nothing romantic about the gesture. It's quick and soft, kind of like a habit. "C'mon. Lets go sit with Rachel."

They make their way back towards the chairs in the waiting room, Brooke sits next to Rachel and Clay sits next to Brooke's.

For a moment—just for a second—it feels like before. When it was Brooke and Clay and Rachel, and there was no drama or complications. Just the three of them (and Jax). Their perfect little semi-functional family unit.

But that was before.

Brooke links her arm with Clay's atop the armrest. Their hands find each other and their fingers naturally entwine, and no more words are needed between them. Not at that moment.