This story is written by brookescott134 and Brucas46Forever. We really, really hope you like this. Comments are greatly appreciated and they are what keep us encouraged to write. Remember that.
Summary: Sometimes people play hard-to-get because they need to know the other person's feelings are real, but sometimes, for some of us, we play too hard.
Rating: T
Authors Note: So we didn't have much time to thank all of you personally again, but we wanted to make sure you all knew how much all your reviews meant, which was a lot, a whole lot! Sadly there are only 5 more chapters left; but as always the more reviews the sooner we UD. You all our amazing! Hope you enjoy this… here is chapter 10.
When Your Sun Turns Black
Chapter Ten: I'll Be Waiting
You're hiding from me now
There's something in the way that you're talking
The words don't sound right
But I hear them all moving inside you, go
I'll be waiting when you call
-"Fall At Your Feet" by Crowded House
She sighed, dropping another shirt to the ground as she rummaged through the many shelves of her walk-in closet. Lucas had decided to take the day off of work today, opting to take the kids out. He had asked her if she wanted to come, but she declined, muttering something about needing to rest.
Throwing the pair of jeans to the side, she began to search through her purses. Grabbing the first one in sight, she remembered the day, about three years ago, that Lucas bought her this purse.
It was their anniversary, and they were window-shopping when it caught her eye. He had laughed as she forced him inside the Gucci shop with her.
"Not in here," she muttered, placing the purse back in its place.
She picked up bag after bag, rummaging through them like a mad woman, all the while thinking of Lucas.
She knew he was mad at her, but she just couldn't give in to him that easily. It would be too weak, too pitiful. Nonetheless, she craved his touch and his presence, and she found herself wishing she had accompanied him and their two children rather than staying home, searching for something that would surely break their marriage, whatever its outcome would be.
As she shoved one of her purses back inside, the crinkle of a paper bag sounded in the darkness of the closet. Pushing past the purses, she sighed in relief as the sight of the brown bag came into view.
She grabbed it, checking to make sure its contents were still present, sighing when she found they still were. Rolling it back up, she realized the only thing left to do was to try out her luck, hoping only for the best.
She stood there, reading the object in her hand, lip reading the words as her eyes traveled across the line of the small text. She looked down to the object laying on the counter and then let her eyes move up to her reflection in the mirror before looking to the previous object.
"Shit," she muttered.
"Mommy!" a small voice yelled from downstairs.
Brooke quickly stuck the object in her makeup drawer, knowing Lucas would not dare go in there and walked out of the room. She would need to deal with this some other time.
"Brooke," Lucas called, his voice echoing throughout the house.
"Upstairs," she called back, walking into the hall.
"Mommy!" Landon yelled, running to her. "Guess what we did!"
"What did you do, baby?" she asked with genuine enthusiasm as she held her little boy in her arms.
"Daddy took us to see the fishes," he informed happily.
"The fishes?" Brooke asked, looking up to Lucas, confused.
"Yeah, he took us to the arcadium," Shelby filled in.
Lucas chuckled. "It's aquarium, honey."
Brooke smiled at this. "The aquarium!? That must have been so much fun!" Brooke said with a smile.
"Yup,"
Shelby nodded. "The fishes were so pretty," she said as she sat down on the floor, opening the colored box in her hands. "And look—I got pretty shells," she said as she spilled them out on the floor to show her mother.
"Oh, baby, those are so pretty." Brooke smiled as Landon's arms remained wrapped tightly around Brooke's neck, his head resting against hers, thumb in his mouth. "Landon, did you get anything?" she asked when Shelby was done explaining each shell's story.
He nodded, holding up the little bag in his hands.
"What's that?" asked Brooke.
"A toy shark," Landon replied eagerly.
"Oh, that's great, Landon," she told him, kissing his nose. "So, I'm guessing you guys had a great time?" she asked the both of them.
Lucas watched, intrigued as she talked with her children.
"Yup, it was great. And I took pictures for you, Mommy, because you weren't there."
"Aw, baby, thank you. I really wish I could have been there."
"I's tired," Landon said as his eyes fought to stay open against Brooke's shoulder.
"Here, let me take you to bed, little man," he offered, picking Landon up from Brooke's arms.
"No," he whined as Brooke stood up, letting out a small laugh. She rubbed his back in a calming manner.
"You just said you were tired, baby," she said as her body accidentally brushed Lucas'; Landon was practically falling asleep on his father's shoulder.
"I no want to go to bed," he whined again, his thumb still in his mouth, making it hard to understand exactly what he was saying.
"Well, then what do you want do?" Brooke asked. It was still early for him to be asleep anyways.
"I don't know," he shrugged, his eyes shutting.
"Brooke, I am just going to put him to bed. He was up early," Lucas stated.
"No," Landon complained. "I no sleep!"
"Lucas, he says he doesn't want to go to bed. Let him stay up for a while and do whatever he wants, he will pass out in no time."
Shelby stopped fiddling with her shells, lifting her head up, fully aware of what was about to occur.
"Brooke, if he stays up, he is going to be grumpy as anything. We're all going to get the raft of it and I don't want to deal with it. He can take a nap. He is four; it isn't like he is going to hate you for it."
"Daddy, I stay up, please" his son begged him.
"Honey, it's too late. You've had a long day. I'm sure you'd like a nap."
"No," Landon said, tears forming in his eyes.
"Luke, please, just let him be," Brooke said, wiping the tears away from her son's eyes; she couldn't take seeing her babies cry.
"It's okay, Landon. Both you and Shelby are going to bed now," Lucas told him, trying to be as kind as possible.
"Why do I have to go to bed? I'm not tired," Shelby said, looking up to her father.
Lucas sighed, and a part of him thought that maybe he didn't want them to stay up because Brooke did. He shook his head and said, "Because it's time for you to go to bed. You're both exhausted."
"No," Shelby fought back.
"Shelby, it's time for bed. Come on, let's go," Lucas said.
"I not tired, Daddy. I want to stay with Mommy," Landon cut in once more.
"Mommy is tired, too," Lucas said, earning a glare from Brooke.
"No, she is not," Shelby fought again, causing Brooke to smile slightly. She loved that they weren't letting him off easy with this one. As wrong as that was, she was mad at him and he deserved it, she thought.
"Kids," he said sternly. "It's time to go to bed." And he proceeded to carry a wailing Landon to his room.
"Mommy, I don't want to sleep," Shelby said, looking up to her mother with pleading eyes.
She looked at her daughter for a moment before rushing after Lucas. Calling his name, she walked quicker until she was in front of him. Trying to avoid a fight in front of the kids she asked, "How about we all sit down and watch some TV? Would you like that Landon?"
"Yeah!" he said, his head shooting up, thumb still in his mouth.
"Okay, well, you go pick a movie for us." Brooke said, taking Landon out of Lucas' unwilling arms and setting him down before he ran off. She started to straighten out when a sharp pain surged through her back, causing her to yelp in pain, her hand instantly going to care for her ache.
"Brooke?" Lucas asked, his stern stance changing immediately.
She was quick to answer. "I'm fine," she said through clenched teeth.
"Nice—another lie—that is great, Brooke," he said, shaking his head. "You've been having this thing for almost three weeks now. You think I don't see you hunched over, or rubbing that spot every time you bend over or stand up? I am not blind, Brooke. Just tell me what is going on."
"Nothing is going on, Lucas. It's just normal back pains," she told him as she worked to straighten her posture.
"You are really something else, you know that?" he scoffed. "Here I am: just trying to help, and you are still pushing me away."
"I'm not pushing you away, Lucas. I'm telling you: nothing is wrong," she repeated firmly.
"I'm not an idiot, Brooke," he sighed, wishing she would just let him in. "Brooke, I'm only doing this because I love you. Please, tell me what's wrong." His tone was softer now.
"Nothing!" she snapped. "Nothing is wrong, Lucas. I just haven't been sleeping right and it is affecting my back. I am fine. God, you just have to push and push. Just listen to what I say and trust it. I am not the liar in this marriage . . . remember?" she said coldly.
He couldn't believe she was doing this—saying these things. It angered him how she insisted on not telling him what was wrong. He stared at her, long and hard, eyes cold as ice. He knew where this would lead if he fought back, so he turned around, grabbed his keys, and walked out the door.
Lucas returned a few hours later. He was pissed and upset, and if he hadn't left then things would have only escalated until it was too far to go back. After paying a trip to the office and then the River Court, he was now cool and calm, ready to try and work it out with Brooke in perfect adult fashion. He looked around the house but Brooke wasn't there, and from the sound, or lack thereof, of it, no one was. The large house, which was normally echoing with noise and laughter, was silent. He made his way up the grand, spiral staircase, quickly making his way down the long hall until he reach his bedroom. Brooke was not in that room either, but he did. however, see the bathroom light on. He smiled softly and walked over to open the door, only to find the pint-size version of his wife, going through her mother's immense amount of make up, happily applying it to her face.
Shelby was sitting Indian style on her mother's bathroom floor, submersed in a sea of a variety of makeup. Humming to herself as she clumsily applied the red lipstick to her tiny lips, she looked up as she saw her father walk in. Through the makeup on her face she looked guilty for a moment, but it quickly washed away and she smiled toothily at her father. "Hey, daddy," she called happily.
He laughed as she batted her eyelashes at him, allowing him to see the smeared blue and silver eye shadow on her eyelids. She was wearing her own cheer leading uniform—something Lucas had tired to convince Brooke wasn't right for his little girl—and her mother's biggest necklaces and earrings. The blue smudge on her face suggested she was trying to copy the Raven's 'R' she had seen her mother wear in pictures of her own high school years.
He chuckled as he walked towards the mess of different colors of lipsticks and eye shadows and eyeliners, kneeling before his seven year old daughter. "Honey, don't you know Mommy doesn't like you playing with her lipstick?"
"I know," she said before brightening up, convinced that she wouldn't let her dad make her feel guilty. "But it's fun." She smiled at him again.
"Well, I don't like you putting on make up either. You're too young, honey."
"It's okay, daddy. I'm gonna wear it someday." She picked at the many lipsticks again, holding up two colors. "Daddy," she said. "Which color is better?"
He decided to play along. "Well, I've always liked this one better," he said, choosing the deep red one.
"Okay," she replied, throwing the pink to the floor. "Close your eyes, daddy," she told him innocently.
"Why?" he asked.
"Just do it," Shelby said jumpily.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, knowing full well his daughter was up to something.
"No peeking," she scolded as one of his eyes opened a bit.
Chuckling, he did as he was told. He felt the cool solid on his face a little too late and his daughter giggled, pulling back to admire her work.
"There you go. Now you can look like me," she said as she held up a mirror for him.
His eyes gaped and he glared playfully at her. "Why you—" He began tickling her mercilessly.
Her laughter and pleas to stop only enticed him. "Daddy," she giggled breathlessly. "Stop."
"Only if you give me a big kiss," he said.
She grinned evilly. "Okay." She reached forward and planted a hard kiss on his face, making sure to get all the color off of her lips and on his cheek.
He didn't seem to notice, but she giggled.
Picking at the makeup again, she lifted a special looking one, furrowing her eyebrows at it. "Daddy," she asked. "What's this kind of makeup?"
Brooke walked in then, her thumb pressed to her temple deeply as she massaged it; a headache the size of Texas had hit her a few minutes before, right after she had put Landon to bed. She walked into the bathroom, stopping abruptly as she saw the huge mess her daughter had made. Her hand remained on her head as she spoke. "Shelby! Baby, I thought I told you not to play with Mommy's make up," she sighed, not ever looking at the two family members sitting in front of her with a very important secret in their hands, the secret that she'd been trying to hide and was now out in the open and in front of the one person she was trying to keep it from.
Despite the smudged red on his lips and cheeks, Lucas' face was hard and mad as he stared at the stick his daughter was holding. As Brooke knelt down to clean up the mess, she froze.
"Shelby, where did you get that?" she asked, finally seeing what was in her daughter's hand.
Having a feeling something was wrong, Shelby hesitated. "I-It was in your makeup box, Mommy," she said quietly.
"Shelby, go wash your face in your bathroom, okay? Me and your mother need to talk," Lucas said to Shelby, his eyes locked on Brooke, who was now refusing to look at him. Brooke cringed slightly at the way he utters out "your mother."
Shelby jumped up and out of the room, not oblivious to the fight that was about to go on.
Lucas shot up, wiping his face and lips angrily with the back of his hand.
"Lucas," Brooke started.
"What the hell is this, Brooke?" he interrupted her, holding out the object in his hand. "What—you just planned on hiding it on your make up box and just not telling me? Do you know how huge this is!?"
"Yes, Lucas, I know how huge this is. But—"
"But nothing, Brooke. Are you honestly that selfish as to just keep this to yourself? This is huge!" he yelled angrily.
"I know that!" she yelled back.
"No, Brooke. If you really knew that then you wouldn't have kept this from me." He let out an angry breath, running a hand through his hair and wiping his lips again with his shirt. "God, Brooke. Why? Can you at least tell me why you hid something this important from me?"
"What—because you never hid anything from me!?" she bit back angrily, ripping the object out of his hands, as if taking it away would somehow mean he would never have seen it. "Like your HCM—you've know about it for what, ten years, now and yet I found out about it four days before you proposed; and the only reason I even found out was because you left your fucking medication out. How is that for life changing!?" she laughed bitterly. "Or when you would leave in the middle of the night and go sleep at Nathan and Haley's and sneak back in before I woke up." His face scrunched up, perplexed. "Yeah, I bet you didn't know I knew about that one. Oh, oh, or how about the fact that if the fucking doctors hadn't called me two weeks ago, I would never have known you weren't taking your heart medication and that is why you almost fucking dropped dead!" She is sobbing hysterically now, and even the toughest of his stances wouldn't be able to stay up after hearing and seeing her cries.
He walks forward and she wrenches back, muttering incoherent jumbles. He realized that if she is indeed pregnant the stress wouldn't be good for her. "Brooke—"
"No!" she yells at him through her sobs as she backed away from him. "I was right in not telling you. I was right!" she exclaimed, and it sounded like she was trying to justify her deeds.
"Brooke." He is trying to calm her down, but she wouldn't stop shaking. "Please, just sit down."
"No!" she yelled again. "I am not going to sit down and I am not going to calm down! You have a lot of nerve trying to make me feel bad for this! Do you remember the last time, Lucas!? Do you!? Do you remember what happened!?" she shouted and sobbed all at once, her words charging at him like a stampede of angry horses. "Damn it!" she cursed, bending down slightly, feeling the sharp pain return in her back. She held onto the counter tightly as she tried to breath through it, but the pain, along with the throbbing in her head, only amplified.
"God, Brooke, you have to stop!" He tried putting his arms around her, tried to steady her, but she wouldn't let him. "Brooke! Please!" He sighed, angry at himself now. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry. Just let me take care of you . . . please."
"No!" she yelled, pushing him away from her. "Just don't touch me. I don't want you to and you don't want to either! The minute we lost that baby we lost our marriage and everything it held and you know it!" she sobbed. "You know it; you don't love me anymore, Lucas! You don't want this marriage and I know it!" she said through her tears. She was crying so hard she was finding it somewhat hard to breath now as she stayed in the same position, clenching the counter in an iron-tight grip. Her body was overtaken in every form of pain, and she could feel herself start to lose grip.
"Brooke!" His voice was echoing in her head now, the image of him spinning round and round in her head.
She could barely hear him now, his voice muffled, playing in slow motion in her head. She spun and spun and spun . . . and then she stopped, falling backwards.
He was terrified.
Her world soon went black. The tears stopped; so did the pain. She was numb now, her body still slightly trembling; but everything inside her was still, silent, lifeless.
So? Please review! ;)