A/N: I can't believe this chapter is finally done. I think I must've rewrote it like three times because the first two settings I put them in just seemed way off, but I think I like where they ended up. Third time's a charm, right?

All That She Wants

Chapter Eleven

"Careful," Peyton's voice warned, "step up."

Brooke clutched Peyton's hand as she lifted her foot.

"Okay."

Everything was black. All she could hear was the sound of Peyton's instructions, the scuffing of their shoes, her breathing, and her own anxious thoughts. She knew she couldn't get out of talking to Peyton to know, she'd put it off long enough as it was.

"You're going to be feeling better in no time! Careful now…"

Brooke could feel Peyton pulling on her hands, so she leaned forward.

"Here's the railing."

"Thanks." Brooke gripped the wooden stairs railing and fumbled a little with her feet before finding the first step. She stepped onto it and kicked around before finding the second step. I feel like I'm just learning to walk, she groaned inside her head. Then another thought hit her: I wonder if this is how my daughter – or son – will feel like when he or she is learning to walk? She placed her hand to her stomach without thinking.

"Is something wrong?"

Brooke winced at her mistake. "Uh, no!" she flashed a smile in the direction Peyton's voice was coming from. "No, I'm just a little hungry, that's all."

"Well then you're lucky," Peyton announced as she looped her arm around Brooke's waist and helped her up a few more stairs. "Because I've thought of everything tonight. Trust me!"

Have you thought that I'm pregnant? The little voice in Brooke's head snapped back. With Nathan's baby no less? Brooke ground her teeth together to drown it out. The voice sounded like her, but she swore that sometimes it had a mind of its own. It would say things she would never, ever want to say.

"Last one!" Peyton announced, far more cheerily than she was about ninety-eight percent of the time.

Heck, Brooke noted, she could even pass for a real cheerleader with that tone of voice. She felt for her friend's hands and grasped them as she stepped onto the top of the stairs. She'd been down the hall to Peyton's room so many times in her life, she really could find her way with the blindfold on, but for now she was content to relish in Peyton's pampering.

"Maybe this is a good thing?" Peyton said rhetorically.

Brooke pinched her lips together skeptically. How so?

"We really haven't had that much best friend time lately," Peyton continued, blissfully oblivious to her friend's sarcastic mental quips. "Just a lot of parties and drinking and sleeping around and…truthfully, I miss just hanging out with you one-on-one, you know?"

"Yeah," Brooke muttered beneath her breath.

"You say you agree, but you don't sound like it."

"I just-"

"On the other hand though, if I were the one who'd been hospitalized twice, I probably wouldn't be so hot to agree either. After all, you can't know how bad someone feels until you're in their shoes, right?"

More than you know, Brooke's thoughts screamed. But on the outside, she just nodded and attempted to smile, though even for a forced smile it looked particularly bad.

"Okay, sit down!"

Brooke could feel Peyton's arms around her waist, lowering her towards her seat. She frowned as she bent her knees and kept scrunching down, yet she wasn't finding the seat. "How far exactly?"

Peyton smirked and playfully tugged Brooke, causing her to lose her balance and fall backwards. "What do you think?"

Brooke had landed with a bouncy thump. She moved her hands around, feeling an odd synthetic material underneath her fingers. "What the heck…"

"Surprise!"

Brooke felt Peyton's fingers wrap around the blindfold and rip it off. She squinted at first, adjusting to the light in the room, and then began to look around and noticed that Peyton was sitting on a red beanbag beside her. Her jaw fell open. "Oh my gosh!" she laughed, surprising herself. She looked down at the royal purple beanbag she was sitting on. "I haven't seen these things in years!"

"I know, right? I was going through some old stuff in the attic and I found them all dusty and gross so I washed them off and thought they'd be perfect for our movie night!" She bobbed her head happily and picked up a handful of videos that were seated between the beanbags. "Speaking of, I got all of your favorites." She shoved the movies into Brooke's fist. "We'll watch them in whatever order you want."

Brooke began to leaf through the movies. The majority of them were classics: Thirteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, and Breakfast at Tiffany's. Before Anna Sawyer had died, Brooke had liked to come over and play and Anna acted as the mother Brooke had never had. But the memories she loved the most were when Peyton would have her sleep over and they'd have a movie night and Anna would share with them – what she referred to as – the best movies of all time. Consequently, they'd also become Brooke's favorites.

"So?" Peyton asked eagerly. "What're you up for?"

"Breakfast at Tiffany's," she smiled as she held out the VHS to the blonde.

"I kind of thought you might say that," Peyton smirked. She picked up the VHS control and pressed the big arrow. The previews immediately began. "So I put it in the player ahead of time," she grinned smugly.

Brooke opened the plastic case and found it empty. She shook her head. "Lucky guess."

"Nah, I just know you too well." Peyton reached over and playfully slapped her friend's arm. "By the way, if you turn to your left, you'll find a lovely selection of chocolate for all your sugar coma needs."

Brooke raised an eyebrow and quickly looked to the floor on her left: Snickers, Milky Ways, Bon-Bons, Malted Milk Balls, Hershey's Kisses, Tootsie Rolls, and just about every other chocolate candy she could think of was laid out on the floor. She snatched up a box of Bon-Bons and popped three into her mouth.

"You're welcome," Peyton grinned. She hopped up and headed for the door.

Brooke creased her eyebrows. "Where're wo gowin'?" she mumbled behind her mouthful of candy.

"Popcorn! You didn't think our movie night would be complete without it, did you?" She motioned lazily towards the screen. "I'll be back before it starts, I promise." She grabbed the edge of the doorway and swung herself out.

Brooke slumped back in her chair and spilled a handful more of Bon-Bons into her palm. She rolled them around in her hand until she felt them becoming soft and just a few more rolls away from melting against her skin. She tossed them into her mouth.

Her stomach gurgled a little, but she ignored it. The Bon-Bons tasted fantastic; she hadn't had them since who knows when. Her stomach gurgled again and she glared. "Quiet down in there!" As she reached into the box for another, she felt a burning stream of stomach acid run up her throat and pool into her mouth. She reflexively gagged tried to push the foul taste back into her stomach where it belonged.

"Great," she scowled, "now I can't even enjoy the simple things in life." She dropped the Bon-Bons back into the collection of chocolate and decided not to try for round two.

"And I didn't forget the extra salt," Peyton announced as she came back into the room. A buttery cologne was wafting from the hot bowl of popcorn in her hand and she triumphantly held the salt shaker in the other.

"Thanks," Brooke replied gloomily. Though I can't have salt. She sniffed the popcorn and her stomach growled.

"Here," Peyton said as she grabbed a fistful and shoved it into her mouth.

Brooke grabbed a loose handful and popped one onto her tongue like a pill, though she didn't eat it, instead she just sucked on it.

"Something wrong?"

"No." Brooke dropped the popcorn back into the bowl.

"Yeah." Peyton rolled over onto her side and stared at her friend. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"This has to do with whatever happened at the doctor's, doesn't it?"

"Peyton, I really-"

"Look, I wasn't going to push, but you're scaring the crap out of me Brooke. What happened?"

"I'm not dying if that's what you're wondering."

"That's not what I asked."

"I really don't feel like-"

"You promised," the blonde insisted. "Cheerleader's Honor, remember?"

Brooke picked up the salt shaker and began to stare at it as if it was an original Da Vinci.

"Brooke!" Peyton leaned forward and grabbed Brooke's wrists. "I'm worried here! Please, let me in!"

Brooke ripped her hands away from Peyton and turned her head away. Her eyes were starting to sting. She turned the salt shaker over and began to empty some of its contents into her buttery hand.

"Brooke…" Peyton crawled off the beanbag and over to the brunette. She gently placed her hand on her friend's arm. "I'm not trying to be a bitch, okay? And I'm not trying to get into your business…I just want to help. And I can't do that if you keep me in the dark."

"I'm not trying to," Brooke whimpered. She curled her fingers around the salt pile in her hand and some of it squeezed out the cracks. "But it's so complicated."

"What could be so complicated that you can't even share with your best friend?"

Brooke held up her fist. At one of Peyton's sleepovers, Anna had explained that some people believed throwing salt over your shoulder was good luck and she'd gotten Brooke and Peyton to do with her, not even caring that they were throwing it right on the living room carpet. She closed her eyes, envisioning the memory, and then thrust her arm back, scattering the majority of the salt over her shoulder, though she could still feel a layer of white grit leftover that had stuck to the butter on her hand.

It's now or never, she thought. "You really wanna know?" Brooke hissed with her teeth clenched together like a maximum security steel door. "I'm not dying, Peyton. Far from it! The simple fact is…I'm…I'm pregnant."