Stand in the Rain
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Schwann and Meyer…darn those geniuses.
Teflon was a liar.
Brooke gritted her teeth as she scrubbed at the baking sheet in her soap filled sink, cursing under her breath when no matter of force would remove the baked batter from its surface. She let out an irritated shout and threw it into the sink with a muted bang, shutting her eyes as the soapy bubbles and water splashed into the air.
"Non-stick pan, my ass," she muttered, reaching for the dishtowel on the counter and quickly running it down her face. She sighed, tossing it in a crumbled ball back to the counter, and putting her fisted hands on her hips. "You just had to have a sweet tooth, didn't you, Brooke? Just had to make some cookies. Now look at the mess. You see what you and your hair-brained schemes get into?"
She threw her head back and looked around the disaster area that was once her kitchen. She had opened the window slightly to help lessen the clouds of smoke that were billowing to her ceiling, relieved that they hadn't set off her fire alarm. Batter smeared mixing bowls and wooden spoons were scattered across the countertops, leaving gooey puddles flowing underneath them. Her stove was covered in tin foil and batter, and the dark, charred round objects masquerading as cookies now lied in a pile in her trashcan.
Martha Stewart, she was not.
She shrugged, pursing her lips at the damage. "Which is why God invented diners."
She made her way into her living room, her booted heels clicking against the tile floor until they stepped onto the carpet, and she picked up the sweater that was draped across the back of the recliner, shrugging her arms through the sleeves before turning to search for her keys.
A faint chirping from the coffee table drew her attention first, and she peered down at her cell phone as its screen lit up with a new text message. Reaching for it, she quickly flipped it open when she read Alice's name, and she frowned as her eyes scanned the short message.
Be nice.
"Okay," Brooke said, frowning down at her phone as if it would magically elaborate her friend's ominous message.
A knock at her front door made her jump slightly, and her hazel eyes narrowed from the phone to the door, Alice's gift in the back of her mind. Flipping the phone shut, she shoved it in the back pocket of her jeans and slowly made her way across the room to the door. Her fingers wrapped themselves around the doorknob, and she twisted it quickly, pulling the door open and peering curiously outside.
She froze, her hand falling from the doorknob and smacking lightly against her hip. She felt her lips moving silently, unable to form the words she knew she should say--knew that she wanted to say. She shifted on her feet slightly, shaking herself out of her shock, and leaned heavily against the door.
"Peyton."
Peyton Sawyer smiled uncertainly on the doorstep, her blonde, curly hair seeming to shine under the glow of the overhead lights of the porch. Her usual rocker T-shirt and torn jeans were slightly damp, water-stained from the rain that was so constant in Forks. Rain that Brooke herself was so used to now, but knowing that it must seem so unusual to her friend.
Brooke's eyes traveled down Peyton's form, her eyes locking in on the cane that the blonde was leaning heavily on, and she steeled herself from the wash of emotions brewing inside her. She raised her eyes to meet her friend's, trying to remember the words Edward had said softly to her weeks before, and relied on them for the strength to remain standing.
Peyton's smile grew slightly, her leather jacket covered shoulders lifting slightly in a hug. "You going to let me in or what, Davis?" she asked, her so-familiar voice light and teasing, a sharp contrast to the emotions written on her face. "It's freezing and wet out here."
Brooke shook her head slightly, raising a hand to touch the side of her head, and nodded, taking a step back. "Yeah, yeah, of course," she stammered, opening the door wider to allow her friend entrance.
She watched Peyton step over the threshold, trying to keep her gaze from traveling to the black cane that preceded her every step, and turned away to shut the door behind her. She let her hands rest on the doorframe for a long moment, taking a deep, steadying breath, before she turned around, her hands slipping into the back pockets of her jeans.
Peyton was standing by the couch, her blue eyes taking in the apartment around them, before they fell on her face. She cocked her head to the side and smiled, the one hand not grasping the cane slipping into the pocket of her jacket.
Brooke shifted on her feet, biting her bottom lip. "Um…what are you…I mean…how did you know where I was?"
Peyton laughed, rolling her eyes. "Mouth folds like a cheap suit."
She laughed, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, he doesn't hold up well under torture."
They shared a soft laugh together, and for a second Brooke could imagine that nothing had changed between them. That they were just joking around with each other like they used to, oblivious to any jealousy or anger or bitterness that could possibly plague their life-long friendship.
Then her eyes fell once more to the cane, and her illusion faded.
"So…Forks, Washington," Peyton said, leaning carefully against the sofa at her back. "You know this is the rainiest place in America, right?"
Brooke nodded, smiling. "Yeah, I kind of got that after the first few weeks." She watched Peyton nod, shrugging, and felt the smile slip from her face. "Peyton, what are you doing here?"
Peyton looked at her, her shoulders lifting in a shrug as she sank further back onto the arm of sofa. "You didn't really expect me to just call you back, did you? I mean…call me crazy, Brooke, but maybe I wanted to talk to you face-to-face. I mean…I haven't heard from you in, what, two months? And then, out of nowhere, I get this voicemail that's all remorseful and sorry and unbelievable sad, and all I want to do is see my best friend and talk things out…and I didn't even know where you were. Then Mouth said he'd talked to you and after I got it out of him and a hell of a lot of convincing to Larry, I tracked down this hole in the wall town and flew--which, by the way, has NOT gotten any easier in the last few years--halfway across the country, rent a car, and traipse through mud and water to stand at your door." She took a deep breath, looking over at her friend. "And, yeah, that was probably a lot of rambling and nonsense, but you try it when your best friend just up and disappears without a word."
Brooke dropped her gaze to the floor, shrugging. "I'm sorry, Peyton," she said softly.
"No, Brooke, that's not what I came here for," Peyton said, shaking her head. "I didn't come here for an apology, because I sure as hell don't need one. There's nothing to apologize for, despite what you and your crazy-ass mind thinks. You didn't do anything wrong."
Brooke shook her head, looking at her. "I did, Peyton," she said, fighting back the tears she could feel burning in her eyes. "I did do something wrong, and I'm so sorry."
"Why?"
She shrugged, biting her lip to keep the sob from slipping out. "Because I shouldn't have left you there. I thought you were behind me."
"Brooke--"
"No, I should have made sure. I should have checked. Instead I just kept running, like some coward."
Peyton laughed suddenly, running a hand through her hair. "Brooke, a freaking gun had just went off. You would have been an idiot to not run."
Brooke shook her head, swiping quickly at the tears that were making their way down her cheeks. "I still should have checked."
Peyton sighed, shaking her head. "Okay…Brooke, you're my best friend. Do you want to know what made me feel better when I was trapped in that library?" The brunette shrugged. "It was knowing, 'Brooke's okay, you know? My best friend, she's safe!' Knowing that you were okay helped me fight through my fear, B. Davis."
Brooke sighed, smiling softly as she shook her head. "I love you for that, P. Sawyer. I really do. But there was something else that helped you feel better and fight through your fear." She shrugged when Peyton looked away from her for a second. "I can't really hold it against him, can I? I mean, the boy I loved was protecting the girl I love…and the girl that he loves, too."
"Brooke--"
"We both know it's true, Peyton," she said softly. "All three of us could play the denial game as much as we wanted, but the hard truth was always right there."
A shuffling sound made her look up, and she took a few hurried steps towards Peyton when she saw the blonde struggling to her feet. She reached out and grasped her arms tightly, scolding her, but Peyton shook her head, her hands gripping her shoulders.
"I want you to listen to me," she said, leaning down slightly so they were at eye level. "I care about Lucas. And I always will. But he is insanely in love with you. And you know what? So am I. You're my Brooke." She squeezed Brooke's shoulders with a smile, laughing when it brought a soft chuckle out of her friend. "I'm not going to hurt you again."
Brooke nodded, sniffling. "Good, 'cause I really don't want to hurt again."
Peyton laughed, tugging her closer. "Come here," she said, shaking her head as she wrapped her in her arms, smiling when she felt Brooke return to hug. "You're something, you know that? I'm the one that gets shot, and you need consoling." She felt Brooke laugh, and she grinned. "Jesus, we could have done this back in Tree Hill, you didn't have to go a million miles away."
Brooke laughed, pulling back to shove her friend away slightly. "What the hell, Peyton, why are even out here?" she asked, pointing to the cane and her leg. "Should you even be climbing the stairs?"
Peyton only rolled her blue eyes, her blonde curls nearly bouncing as she shook her head. "Like I could--"
"Possibly leave me," Brooke finished, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're still a dumb ass bottle-blonde, but that's why I love you." She smiled, reaching out to gently pat her friend's arm. "Really, Peyton. It's so great to see you. And the fact that you flew 30,000 feet about the ground just to put me in my place means so much more than you'll ever know."
Peyton scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "You will owe me for the rest of eternity, Davis," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I left in such a hurry I couldn't get anything to knock me out. So not only have I broken seven out of ten nails, I'm pretty sure my terrified ramblings traumatized some poor kid in the seat next to me."
Brooke laughed, shaking her head, and couldn't help how amazing it felt--to share a laugh with her best friend again.
"What do you mean 'loved?'"
She looked up, meeting Peyton's inquisitive gaze. "What?"
Peyton shrugged. "You said 'the boy I loved,' when you referred to Lucas. Past tense." She watched Brooke bit her lower lip slightly, an obvious sign of her friend's discomfort. "Brooke…what's going on?"
Brooke sighed, running a hand through her dark hair. What was going on? Oh, how she wanted to tell Peyton everything--about Edward and Alice and their family, the attempted bank heist, everything she'd learned over the last few months. She wanted her best friend to laugh with her about Alice and her overpowering will to shop; about Emmett and Jasper, and her near-throw down with Rosalie. About Carlisle and Esme, and how it was so unbelievable to her that two vampire parents could make her feel so…at home. To make her feel like she belonged. About how Edward made her heart pound and how she felt so completely lost when he wasn't with her.
But looking at her friend now, she knew that she couldn't. She couldn't tell Peyton everything.
She smiled. "P. Sawyer, you wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said, laughing. She shrugged. "But we've got a lot of catching up to do. And there just happens to be this little hole in the wall diner in this little hole in the wall town that serves the BEST apple pie. Seriously, Peyton, it gives Karen's a run for the money."
Peyton grinned, laughing, and straightened to her full height, grabbing her cane and linking her arm through Brooke's at the same time. "Just like old times, B. Davis," she said softly.
Brooke smiled, pulling open the door and motioning for the blonde to go first. She reached for her keys just as her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. Closing the door behind her, she flipped the phone open, scanning the text message that popped up on the screen.
You can thank me later!
She chuckled softly, locking the door and pocketing the phone in the same motion. "Thanks, Alice," she said softly, shaking her head as she turned on her heel, skipping across the sidewalk to where Peyton was leaning against the railing. She grinned, gently jumping to her side and throwing an arm around her shoulder.
Just like old times.
While Brooke and Peyton laughed and joked as they climbed into the car, a shadowed figure watched them from the thick forest next to the apartment complex.
Dark, blood red eyes narrowed with their every movement.
Even from her position, she could smell the bastard on her.
He'd claimed a new mate…
A perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched as the brunette pulled out of the parking lot and disappeared into the rainy background.
A cold, evil smile crept across her pale face.
Let the games begin…
Man…that was awhile since my last update, huh? Hope this one was good--I know it's a lot shorter than my other posts, but the Breyton reunion just didn't seem to meld well with the next chapter. So I just divided them into two!
And the plot thickens with the appearance of a shadowed figure…(though I'm sure you guys know who it is :p).
Review, and let me know what you guys think!
Until next time, my dahlinks!!