My name isn't Brooke!

"My name isn't Brooke!" She repeated, letting out a bloodcurdling scream. "My name isn't Brooke!"

Her eyes flew open, she was back in her bedroom, her homework spread across her bed. She didn't remember ever falling asleep.

"Brooke?"

Lucas let the door fall shut behind him, and dropped down onto the bed. He raised an eye brow before wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Did you have that dream again?"

Brooke let out a shaky laugh. "It was more like a nightmare, Luke."

He rubber her back, racking his brain for the right thing to say. He didn't want to admit that he and Nathan had been doing research about reoccurring dreams, and nightmare, but the two brothers had actually found out some pretty cool stuff.

Recurring dreams usually meant there was something in life you hadn't acknowledged, that was causing some sort of stress. The dream repeated because you hadn't corrected the problem. Another theory was that people who experienced recurring dreams had some sort of trauma in their past that they were trying to deal with.

Nightmares were dreams that were so distressing they usually woke you up. Nightmares could occur at any age, but were seen in children more frequently. They usually caused strong feelings of fear, sadness or anxiety. Their causes are varied, but traumatic events usually were the main cause of nightmares.

Brooke wound her arms around his torso, burying her face into his shoulder. "I just want it to stop, Luke!"

"I know." Lucas replied, tightening his grip. "Don't worry, B. I promise, you and I will figure this thing out. Okay?"

She nodded slowly.

Brooke wanted nothing more than to admit that it didn't feel like a dream, or a nightmare at all... It was more like a memory.

She had always hated thunder storms.

"It's okay." He muttered, pulling away to meet her eyes. "I'm sure it's nothing, B. But we will get to the bottom of it. I promise."


"Nathan."

Elena was last seen playing outside of her Charlotte, NC home on the evening of September 7th, 1993. She was last seen wearing a blue dress, white tights, and black boots.

"Nate?"

The little girl featured in the photo wore a polka doted dress. Her long hair pulled back into a high pony tail, and she was smiling.

"Nathan..."

It couldn't be. He had seen that photo a million times before, he'd know it anywhere. It wasn't possible, there was no way that that was...

"Nathan Royal Scott!"

Nathan whipped his head around to glare at the her for using his middle name. Quickly, he closed the laptop, throwing his free arm around her shoulder to lead her back to the front door.

"I can't do this right now, Peyton."

Peyton blinked, unsure of whether to be concerned, or annoyed at him for bailing on her. It had been his idea to get such a head start on the project.

"I'm sorry, Peyt..." Nathan stuttered. "I just... I don't feel very good right now... Can you leave? Please?"

She nodded and slung her bag across her shoulder. "Maybe we can work on it over the weekend?"

"Un huh."

Nathan let the door fall shut behind her, waiting until he saw the Comet's headlights dance across the wall before he grabbed his keys.

B! Hey!

Hey, Nate :) What's up?

Pretty sure I just saw you at the movie theater. I called your name, but you didn't answer :/

Aww, Nathan! I totally would have answered if that had been me. I'm getting ice cream with your brother right now.

At least now he knew she wasn't home. It made his mission that much easier.


Brooke wasn't the most observant person in the world.

He was counting on that, praying that she wouldn't notice the missing picture until he had a chance to put it back.

"Nathan?"

He slowly lowered his hand. He had been about to knock, she must have seen him through the security system.

"Hi, Mrs. Davis." Nathan replied, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. "How are you?"

Victoria crossed her arms. "Brooke's not home at the moment. I think she's still out with your brother."

If there was one thing that Dan had taught his younger son, it was how to lie. Nathan Scott was a gifted liar, but that wasn't something he was proud of.

"I know." He drew out, glancing down at the ground. "I just... I was helping Brooke study the other day, and I left my book upstairs in her room. I have a test tomorrow... Do you think I could just run up and grab it?"

She let out a long sigh, a clear indicator that he was interrupting something pretty important, but moved aside so he could step in.

"Please, Nathan. Make it quick."

Nathan nodded, taking the steps two at a time. There it was, sitting on her bedside table.

She was about four in that photo, wearing a polka doted dress, with her long hair pulled back into a high pony tail. She was smiling, standing in some random front yard with her hands on her hips.

It was a match.

He suddenly felt faint, he dropped down onto her bed for a moment to catch his breath, all the while staring down at Elena's face.

Brooke's face.

Elena-Brooke-Elena-Brooke-Elena-Brooke. This couldn't be happening. This was the type of bad movie on Lifetime that his friends loved to make fun of.

This wasn't real. This was just a horrible, horrible dream. Brooke Penelope Davis was not missing four year old, Elena Grace Reynolds. There was no way.

Pictures never lied.