So I know it's been waaaay too long and that this is pretty short. However, I am already working on the next part of this and I promise to have it up before the week is over. I'm really aiming for the next couple of days actually. In the mean time, enjoy this little piece. Just to keep the blood circulating.

P.S.- thanks to all of you who have followed and favorited! Love seeing those! And a special thanks to all of the reviewers! Your reviews always make my day! Looking forward to hearing from you all again (soon I hope) so, enough stalling, enjoy!

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Brooke Davis was worried. And Brooke Davis HATED to be worried, especially when it involved her darling P. Sawyer. If the brunette could have things her way, the blonde would be wrapped up in cotton, bubble wrap, and rainbows and never have another bad moment for the rest of her natural born life. However, this was the real world. And that means that reality is always just around the corner. Even for someone as special as her Peyton. And this...this had Brooke worried.

She had watched with almost baited breath as the blonde tossed and turned in her sleep. She hadn't really had a peaceful moment since they had left the gang at the diner earlier that night. Instead, she had spent the whole car ride home mumbling with silent tears crawling down her rosy cheeks. Once they had returned home, the blonde's newfound clinginess had come out ten times stronger than ever before. The only way to convince the girl to lay down was to lay down with her and hold the blonde in her arms...not that Brooke minded doing it.

The brunette was just upset that her favorite person in the whole world was upset. And for once, Brooke couldn't seem to really calm her down. Even though Brooke had stayed beside Peyton every second since their abrupt departure, the blonde continued to quietly cry out "Brooke". The designer tried to assure her girlfriend that she was there, but either Peyton was too upset to really care or just too lost in whatever was going on in her head.

That was another thing that bothered the brunette. Just what exactly had set the blonde off? Things were perfectly fine before she left for the bathroom. It was only about a minute later she heard her name being screamed in what could only be described as a desperate cry for help. It was almost as if Peyton had been fearing for her life, that's how raw it had sounded. Debating it though, Brooke also put into account that the blonde hadn't really fully used her voice before now, and that may have accounted for some of the raw tone too.

However, nothing could be contributed to the absolute look of terror the blonde had on her face when the brunette had flown out of the bathroom, barely managing to pull up her pants before coming into everyone's view. The look on Peyton's face was not one Brooke would soon forget. It almost looked familiar even, in the eeriest of ways. Brooke squinted in thought, trying to place the look, but unable to remember where or why she had seen it before. Her mind switched once again to the scene she had ran out to in the diner.

It nagged at the inner most part of her that Lucas of all people had been standing over Peyton when she came out to find the blonde losing it. Never, in the whole time she'd had Peyton back home, had the blonde had a panic attack like that. None of the situations, none of the memories that the blonde had already been reintroduced to had sparked that kind of response.

Seeing Lucas bring that out sparked something in Brooke. She immediately felt suspicious of the broody blonde, debating if maybe their was some memory there that she was unaware of. Perhaps something did happen before Peyton's disappearance and the memory had come flashing back. Instantly the brunette felt the heat of anger and hate return towards Lucas Scott. All the resentment she had been working on putting on the back burner came back all at once, stronger than ever.

Her boiling anger was immediately forgotten though when Peyton whimpered in her sleep. Brooke's already suffocating grip on her girl only strengthened and moved to bring her closer, leaving the blonde practically on top of her. Hands rubbed the skinny woman's back and comforting words were spoken in a warm husky voice. The blonde quieted and rolled to bury her face in Brooke's neck. The fragile girl moved to tangle the fingers of her good hand with those of her savior.

"Brooke," she repeated again, still crying for her security blanket.

Brooke buried her face in the blonde's rusty blonde curls. "I'm right here, baby. You don't have to be scared anymore. I'm right here. Nothing is gonna hurt you P. Sawyer."

"Brooke," the blonde still whimpered out.

"Peyt," Brooke practically cried herself, frustrated from her inability to make the blonde feel better. "Peyt, you gotta talk to me baby. I know it's hard and you might not really be able to. But I can't help you if I don't know what you're going through."

The room stayed deathly silent after the brunette's begging. This only got her more worried. She had been so careful to not point out her best friend's inability to speak. She always made sure to not draw attention to it. Now she wasn't sure if the silence was from whatever was bothering the blonde originally or from Brooke practically throwing that up in her face.

The fashion designer hated to bring it up, afraid it would only cause more distress. But right now nothing else seemed to be helping. The designer was starting to feel desperate.

"B-bod." Shakily broke the quiet. It was mumbled and hard to make out, but it had Brooke's full attention. She even sat up a little more, bringing the other girl with her so she could better hear her.

"What was that baby?" Her hands caressed the damaged girls face and ran gently through her messy hair.

"B-Bo...baad." Peyton huffed in annoyance and tried again. "Ba- BAd!"

"Bad?" Brooke questioned. Peyton nodded and all kinds of red flags went up in the brunette's mind. "What's bad baby? What happened? Did someone hurt you!? I swear to god-"

The soft fingers that were wrapped around her own brought her out of her rant before it could go any further. Hazel eyes focused back on mossy ones.

"Baad...mon. Maaaa...mooou," she struggled through the words. "Un...aaaann. Maaa...mmaaaan. BAD maan."

"Bad man?"

Again Peyton nodded.

"Who baby? What did they do?" Brooke asked, fear pulsing through her veins at what the answer could be.

"Lll-lu-"

"Lucas!?" Brooke shot out.

Tears clouded Peyton's vision as she nodded.

"What-what did he do to you!? What happened?"

Peyton only shook her head, becoming upset as the memories flooded her mind.

"C'mon P. It's just me. You can tell me." She squeezed her arms around the fragile woman.

"P-pa-par-pr," she stuttered out. "PROM!" She managed to get out all at once. She immediately buried her face back into the brunette's chest, seeking the comfort she only found in Brooke's strong arms.

Brooke however, sat befuddled. She knew everything that happened during prom. In fact, she had kept a hawk eye on Peyton around that time. She knew for sure that Lucas had only been around the blonde maybe once during that time. She even knew exactly what had happened when the two had seen each other. Lucas had been mentioning to everyone in the group how weird the outcasted blonde had been acting. At the time everyone was too caught up in there own drama. His concern had only caused more fights between Lucas and Brooke at the time. The only reason he approached the blonde was because Brooke had been pissed off and told him to go to her, since he obviously cared more about her than his own girlfriend.

Brooke had watched, boiling with anger when he turned and went straight to her. It did surprise the cheerleader though when her ex bff freaked from Lucas just touching her arm. Peyton had looked totally wigged to turn and see Luke and had practically turned tail to run before he could even say a word. Not much was mentioned about Peyton after that. Not until prom night.

The gang were all enjoying their night at the dance until eventually the inevitable was brought up. It was Skills that mentioned in passing that the curly blonde had yet to show. Brooke had ignored every instinct in her to not go check on her old friend. It was brushed off until word got around that the police were seen at the Sawyer house, or really more or less on that road as the rumors went. But Brooke knew deep down that they were at Peyton's home. Still, nothing serious came with the news. Only word that perhaps their was a party going on there that got busted. But the brunette knew Peyton, and she knew the blonde wasn't one for wild typical teenage parties even on her best days. However, she ignored it. Ignorance is bliss right?

It didn't escape her that Peyton's already odd behavior did a whole hop, jump, and skip downward. The small attempts the blonde would make to reconcile, or even stay in contact with their friends seemed to stop all at once. No one ever actually seemed to see her. For the last couple weeks of school between prom and graduation it was as if she hadn't even existed. Brooke was almost surprised to see her at the graduation ceremony. Looking back though, she could tell that something was off about the blonde.

Brooke could almost kick herself in the ass. If only she had realized then what all she knew now...hindsight really was 20/20. How different things could have been if she had only swallowed her pride and made things right in the first place.

Brooke's eyes returned back to the present Peyton that was snuggled deep in her arms. Another thought from the past had bugged the fashionista. One little detail that never seemed to make sense. Peyton's dad.

Larry had come to town for their graduation ceremony, but from what Brooke could remember, wasn't actually there. Then he was gone just as fast as he was there. When they were younger, even if he was home on emergency time Larry, he would stay longer than he apparently did that time around. And even weirder, Peyton was in the hospital for almost two months, of which she knew the medical staff was still trying to contact him. Brooke herself had even rang the various departments, hoping to inform the man of his daughter's where abouts and condition. Surely he would be relieved, maybe even more so than Brooke herself had been to finally find the girl. Although Brooke found it hard to believe anyone missed the blonde more than she did. In the end though, there still was no contact from the older man.

Glancing down and realizing that the blonde had cried herself into an exhausted sleep, Brooke decided it was time to try again. And maybe, just maybe, the man could answer a few questions for her. Slowly and carefully, she snuck out of the bed and replaced her spot with a pillow, which Peyton had clung too. She snuck out of the room and headed down into the kitchen with her phone, now on a mission. She sat on one of the bar stools with a fresh cup of coffee and readied herself for the conversation she wasn't sure she'd even be able to have.

With one last deep breath she dialed and went through the the appropriate menu items before the last ringing filled her ears. She waited completely tense for what she assumed would end up being a voicemail recording. She almost jumped at the gruff male voice that answered the phone.

"Hello?"