An update, a fairly lengthy one too compared to the last few chapters. I tried to add a little Brucas but I wanted this chapter to be mainly about Brooke trying to connect with Brandon by explaining what she sees as their main similarity. It does get pretty dark as Brooke talks about her past just as a warning.
Brooke felt beyond strange laid in bed at such a late hour, okay so most people wouldn't class 8am as particularly late especially on a Sunday but for Brooke who hadn't been at work later than 6.30am for months it was an odd feeling to be laid in her bed still. She'd woken when Lucas and Brandon had left for their run at six but had drifted back to sleep for just over an hour. Now she stretched out in her bed telling herself to enjoy this moment of peace and trying hard to push away the guilt that came from knowing there were a million things she should have been doing at the office. There was also a feeling of trepidation that today she had agreed to Lucas' suggestion that she make time to talk with Brandon. To attempt to make a connection with the troubled teen that Lucas clearly saw as being similar to the picture she had painted of herself as a teenager. Or worse still of Rachel as a teenager. She felt the familiar ache in her heart when she thought of her friend. It had been over a decade and yet the pain had not lessened. Nor had the guilt. They had been so utterly reckless in their youth, so convinced they were grown and knew the world around them only to be shown as completely naive and childlike still as her world had been torn down around her. She blinked the tears from her eyes as she heard the door to the apartment open and slam closed. She forced herself together and got out of bed, padding down the hall to where she could hear Lucas and Brandon in the kitchen. They were even laughing and joking a bit and she was amazed that Brandon could behave in such a way. It wasn't a side of him she'd seen in the months he'd been living here and she realised that maybe that was because she'd never invested the time with him that Lucas had over the past five days. She couldn't say for sure whether that was because he had been so surly from the second he stepped over the threshold or that it was because she was so overwhelmed with the amount of work running two companies was.
"Hey sounds like you guys had a good run." She watched the shift in Brandon's eyes as he registered his presence and it was like a shutter had slammed down because he was no longer alone with the man who had gone out of his way to forge a relationship with him.
"Yeah I'm going to get a shower. What's the plan for today Lucas? Are you still dead set on teaching me how to get a ball through a hoop?" Lucas grinned at the teen.
"Actually you get a break from my routine today – it is Sunday after all and everyone deserves a day off for good behaviour. Your sister was planning on hanging out with you today." Brooke caught the warning in Lucas' tone and in his eyes as he addressed Brandon and the teen frowned but said nothing disappearing off to have his shower.
"Well if nothing else we know he likes you." She said wryly as she went to pour herself a cup of coffee. She turned and found Lucas right behind her. His hands gripped her arms and he looked deep into her eyes.
"He could like you too Brooke – you both just need to stop being so guarded and give your relationship a chance to develop. No one said it would happen overnight and sometimes he looks like he hates me – or at least that I stop him living the life he was living before. But really he just needs someone to be there. My mom always said that kids need routine and discipline just as much as love and care. My guess is that Brandon hasn't had much of any of those things – just like you didn't." She sighed deeply knowing he was probably right. She'd never given much thought to her half-brother before her father died. But when she really pressed herself to remember she supposed she'd assumed her father would have been more involved with Brandon than he had been with her because he'd always wanted a son and heir rather than a daughter. But that didn't necessarily mean he would be a better parent. After all it was more about what it said about him than actually being a decent father.
"I know but he doesn't make it easy." Lucas grinned.
"Neither do you at times. You just need to hang on in there Brooke – which is something I know you're stubborn enough to do just because you've stuck around when it comes to me." She was a little surprised that he recognised just how she had waited for him. This time together felt like such progress. The fact he was here helping with Brandon trying to take care of her spoke volumes about how he had to feel about her. But once again she was left with the feeling that this was the most she would ever get from him. And while she loved him, he was the only man she'd ever loved, it was becoming increasingly obvious to her that this was not enough for her. But then she'd tried to leave him behind before when she met Julian and had not been able to. So there seemed little hope of a solution.
"That doesn't always serve my best interests though does it?" She saw the hurt in his eyes and regretted her words, she hated hurting him and yet found perverse pleasure in the fact he cared enough about her that what she said could hurt him.
"I wish I could give you what you want Brooke." She didn't know whether that meant he had accepted that he never could. "I'd give anything to make you happy pretty girl." All she needed to be happy was for him to love her, and to tell her he loved her. To not spend months out of her life with no contact, to just love her and to be with her like any other couple. She'd even thought about whether or not she'd give up her life to be an army wife and live with him wherever he got stationed if that was how he saw the rest of his life. And she knew she would – just to be with him was all she wanted. And then she realised that this wasn't just him. It wasn't just him holding back – even now she still held her guard with him. Just like he did with her. She hated him for not being honest about his feelings and yet she was the same. She always told herself it was because she didn't want to rush him, to scare him off but maybe he was waiting for her to say something just like she was waiting for him.
"Lucas the only thing I need to be happy is to just have you here." He tenderly cupped her face and pressed his lips to hers.
"One day I will be – I promise." She closed her eyes and savoured the feel of his arms around her, she felt as though she clung onto him like she clung onto the hope that one day he really would be here, he would be hers. She didn't realise she was crying until she felt him wipe the tears from her face. "Brooke I lo..."
"Are you getting ready anytime soon then?" She reluctantly pulled away from Lucas at the sound of Brandon's voice as he was coming back into the kitchen.
"I'm just going for a shower while you have breakfast. I won't be long." With one last, long look between her and Lucas she walked back to her room and into the en-suite bathroom. Once the door was closed she allowed herself to really cry. In a week's time he would be gone again and she would miss him more this time than she ever had before. She had not previously considered what torture these twelve days would be once he was gone. It was like a taste of what live could be like if only they could be together only to have him gone again. If she even knew that next time he would come home to her like this it would ease the pain of his leaving and yet there was no guarantee. It had never happened before and she knew his main reason was coming to help with Brandon. If she no longer needed that help with him she wondered if Lucas would spend his entire leave in Tree Hill with his family. Because despite their connection and her love for him she was not his family and though she wanted to be she didn't know if there would ever be a day she was.
"You do know my parents died less than a year ago right?" Brooke heard the slight scathing in the boy's tone and looked across at him as she put the car into park.
"I had heard something about that." He almost grinned at her response and she wondered whether he was maybe just as guarded as Lucas said he was.
"So you're me bringing me to a cemetery why? Is this some kind of tough cop listen to me or this is where you'll end up type thing?" Brooke laughed as she got out of the car and Brandon copied her lead.
"Isn't the tough cop thing what Lucas is doing?" Brandon shrugged.
"Yeah I guess but he's leaving in a week so I figured you might be trying to be all authority figure now before he goes. I mean that was the point of him being here wasn't it." It was a statement and not a question and she realised then this was probably the closest the pair had ever got to an actual conversation. She'd yelled and he'd fought back but an actual conversation had probably never happened.
"He is but I'm hoping by then you might not need a tough cop – or at least not a tough cop like him more an ordinary type of tough cop. Anyway here we are." She stopped in front of the grave stone she had been searching for and felt the familiar drop in her stomach as she looked at the marble, the photo that had been placed on there one she had taken herself. She hadn't been here in a long time and standing there she instantly remembered why she avoided the place.
"Who's Rachel Gatina?" She tore her gaze away from the grave stone and over to Brandon.
"She was my best friend. She died just before we were meant to head off to college. We had it all planned out. We'd rent a place off campus and party. I'd start my amazing fashion business after college and she'd be my top model. We'd get our own place in New York and live the high life. We were pretty alike. We both had parents who were never around and were more interested in throwing money at us than actually getting involved in our lives. Sound familiar?" Brandon nodded cautiously. "We partied a lot, we thought we knew it all. And we slept around confusing boys wanting us for love because we never had the love thing from our home lives. Just after our high school graduation we went out partying and Rachel hooked up with this guy, well we hooked up with these guys and went home with them. The next day I showed at Rachel's house with coffee and muffins because it was turn to do that. We didn't knock because we lived in each other's houses. The second I got inside the first thing I saw was footprints – bloody footprints. I've never told a sole about what happened that day I went into her house. The second I saw those footprints that were definitely not hers I just knew I didn't go inside any further. I felt physically sick and I knew..." She broke off unable to stop the tears spilling down her cheeks. As she began to speak again it felt like she was there living each horrid second all over again.
"Rach?" She called her friend's name in the vein hope that it wasn't her blood that someone had stepped in and yet she knew the chance of that being true was too slim to really believe in. She knew that no one else would have been in this house. With shaking hands and unsteady steps she made her way to Joel Gatina's study. She fumbled with the key secured under the desk with a strip of tape until her shaking hands began attempted to slip it into the locked desk drawer. Looking down at the contents of the now open drawer she felt increasingly scared and sick but reached in anyway. The cold metal against her skin brought vomit into her mouth, she swallowed it down not daring to make a sound and withdrew her hand gripped around the metal from the drawer. Her hands shook violently and she felt sure that if someone were still in the apartment they had to hear the thumping of her heart. In the foyer she saw once more the footprints that she was sure belonged to someone who had hurt her best friend. Squeezing her eyes shut she walked the foyer that she knew blindfolded and finally opened her eyes again outside the door to her best friend's bedroom.
Using the gun in her hand to push the door open she stepped cautiously inside. Fear and terror gripped her heart but not one ounce of it was for herself. The room was empty but she felt no relief. She just wanted to see her friend. She swallowed before inching her way out of the room she forced herself to look at the floor and follow where the footsteps originated from. She felt the bile rising in her throat and she waited outside the kitchen door unable to face what might be on the other side. She raised the gun in front of her knowing that even if she had to use it she would be unable to make a clear shot her hands shook so badly. She jumped out of her skin and a shot was fired at the sound of her cell phone ringing out in the deathly silence of the Gatina residence. With one shaking hand clinging to the smoking gun the other fumbled in her pocket for the cell. She prayed Rachel's name would be on the screen and that her friend would offer some good, even funny explanation for what was happening and yet it was Peyton's name flashing instead. She slide the phone open and held it to her ear yet did not say a word.
"Brooke?"Her breathing was no doubt heavy and she knew Peyton must be able to sense her fear. "Brooke are you okay?"
"There are bloody footprints in Rachel's foyer." She heard the sharp intake of breath from her friend down the other end of the phone.
"Brooke are you still in Rachel's apartment?" At first she nodded before realising that Peyton could not see her. the need for silence was thick within her and yet deep down there was the logic that if no one had investigated a gunshot within the apartment then no one was here – or at least no one that could hear it because she couldn't put another word in that sentence.
"Yes, but I've got the gun." All three girls knew Rachel's father had a gun in the bottom drawer on the right side of his desk in a study he was barely around enough to use. Just as all three knew the drawer was locked and the key taped under the desk. Rachel had showed them once years ago when they were just kids. Before Brooke's last nanny had been let go of and before she was left alone in her home. Rachel had been left on her own for the first time and both girls were wide eyed at twelve wondered if their friend was scared. The redhead had boasted she had no need to worry because look what her dad had in his desk.
"Brooke get out of the apartment now! Jake's already left for work and I have Jenny but I will call him and get him there. I want you to turn around and get out of the apartment. And then you call the cops. Brooke?" But Brooke didn't answer she couldn't, because she was no longer standing outside the kitchen door that now had a bullet hole in, instead she was inside of it because she saw red hair on the floor and her Rachel was in there and she had to make sure she was okay. Only the red hair was not attached to anything just a clump there on the floor, blood literally covered every inch of the breakfast bar and dripped steadily down onto the floor creating a pool. And Brooke didn't know what was happening or how it was possible for there to be so much blood. She didn't know who was in that apartment with her and why they started screaming but the noise was deafening and it was inside her head drowning out Peyton's panicked cries down the other end of the phone. Her eyes did not see anything but those drops of blood falling from the breakfast bar to the ever increasing puddle on the floor. She wanted whoever was screaming to stop but could not find the words that would tell that person to shut up until suddenly there were strong hands on her arms forcing her to her feet and desperately saying her name. It wasn't until Jake took the gun from her hand and began to pull her away that she finally realised she was the one who was screaming. Outside the light hit her and the tears spilled down her cheeks and the vomit that had been lodged in her throat spilled out of her mouth as she felt like all of her insides were trying to escape.
Jake's hand on her back tried to soothe her but she knew it was no good. She may not have found Rachel but she knew she never would. The instinct in her gut told her what to expect and as the sirens burst through the quiet morning in uptown New York Brooke knew her life could not possibly go back to how it had been when she woke up that morning. Tyres squealed to a halt and she heard the sounds of men rushing past her and into the apartment block. When finally she had nothing left in her she looked up to see a broken Jake handing the gun over to a police officer. A man in uniform approaching her with caution, sympathy and pity written clearly across his face. Something in her died with that look.
Two hours later and she was sat in Peyton and Jake's apartment. Three year old Jenny was fast asleep in her bed taking her afternoon nap completely oblivious to that which had destroyed the lives of the teenagers in the other room. She had been sick an infinite number of times since that first outside Rachel's apartment. When the police asked where the Gatinas were she had shrugged because she doubted even Rachel knew that answer to that. The questions had been relentless and she soon realised that she did not have the answers that they needed. She did not know the name of the man Rachel had taken home with her, nor had she been able to provide a good description of him. She'd been too drunk and too high to be able to talk about his features she simply could not remember. She was ashamed to admit she did not know the name of the man she had gone home with. The man who had been friends with the current suspect in Rachel's disappearance. That was the word they used, disappearance, but they all knew. Brooke knew that Rachel had not disappeared, and though she wished she could hope she did not see a way that Rachel could have lost so much blood in her kitchen and still be okay. When the knock on the door came and Jake slowly opened in to reveal a sorrowful looking officer Brooke was in the bathroom with her head down the toilet before any of the others knew what was happening. When she emerged she found an ashen faced Jake holding a sobbing Peyton. She forced herself to look up then at the man who she knew was going to tell her everything she didn't want to hear.
"We still haven't managed to reach your friend's parents. Is there anyone else who could come and identify her – formally?" Brooke closed her eyes in an attempt to summon the strength she needed.
"I'll do it." The tears were brimming in her eyes again and yet she refused to let them fall. Jake released Peyton and gripped her arm.
"No Brooke, I'll go." In that second her heart swelled with her love for Jake Jagelski because while his appearance in their lives may have changed the trifecta of Peyton, Rachel and herself so that Peyton became more his than theirs he was still the best man she had ever known. But she shook her head.
"You need to stay here with Peyton and Jenny. She is MY Rachel and I won't let her down again." He looked as though he would protest but Brooke held herself firm and instead he reached his arms around her holding her tightly against him.
"Are you sure miss? I hate to have to say this but the condition of the bo...your friend it's not something I'd want anyone to see." Brooke felt her nerve wobble at the officer's words but nodded her head regardless.
"What had happened to her?" Brooke was broken from her memories by Brandon's voice and was unsurprised to find her cheeks wet with tears.
"I don't know, not exactly. I couldn't go to the inquest. I couldn't bring myself to. I didn't want to hear what that monster had done to her." Her voice wavered again and she felt the brim of tears in her eyes once more. "I don't know what happened, Jake went because one day we might have needed answer. All I know is that he tried to hide her body, and not all in one places. I do know that the case is cold and he is still out there and it's because I couldn't give the police anything to work with. I didn't even know what club we'd met them in for CCTV." She brushed the tears from her face then as if refocusing on why exactly she was torturing herself this way. "Brandon my point is the way we were then was crazy. We thought we grown, so mature and so in control. We thought we knew it all and we were savvy about just where we were and what we doing and who we were doing it with. But we were just children still and we didn't know. We didn't have a clue. You are still a child Brandon and you might not see it, you might think you know it all but you don't. You blindly into this city where you've never been before and the first people you make friends with and the ones who sell drugs. You don't know what be lurking in the places you go. Everything we did back then in one or another was a cry for attention. We just didn't see it, we thought we were acting like grownups but really we were just children who wanted the same thing we'd wanted for years – we wanted them to notice us and to love us and we threw ourselves into stupid, reckless and dangerous situations blindly in the hope that someday they would care and they come and be parents." She watched Brandon closely as he licked his lips and seemingly searched for something to say.
"My parents are dead, no matter what I do they won't ever come so what makes you think I do the things I do because of them." She wished she had an answer then because he was right, none of the trouble he'd caused since coming to New York was for his parents' benefit because there was no chance of them ever coming now. So what exactly was Brandon searching for? He turned and started back towards the car and she whispered her goodbye to her friend before going after him. As she slammed the door shut Brandon looked over to her. "At least you and that Rachel girl had each other and that Peyton chick. You weren't completely alone. And now you have all those people you talk about in Tree Hill and you have Lucas. It's obvious he'd do anything for you. I mean the guy is crazy in love with you." If she hadn't been so completely stunned by his words about Lucas maybe she would have really heard Brandon then, she would have seen him. Instead the idea that a teenage boy who'd known Lucas for less than a week could say with such certainty that he loved her was the thing that lodged itself in her mind.
