Authors note: This chapter is totally dedicated to Elena and Stefy. Without Elena I wouldn't be able to write and Stefy is my keeper of all things sane ;). Chey, thank you and you know why. I love you both. Title and lyrics come from a beautiful song by Jason Mraz.
I also know that there should have been an update for Comfortable Liar on Friday, but Elena updated Weight Of the World and I finished this. Sometimes, inspiration hits randomly. Hopefully Comfortable Liar goes up tomorrow.
x
CHAPTER 21 – Details In the Fabric
If it's a broken part, replace it.
But if it's a broken arm then brace it.
If it's a broken heart then face it
Calm down…
-b-
The phone is ringing angrily from its place in her purse and she absentmindedly pulls it out to answer it while flipping through a stack of sketches on her desk.
She's so tired that she can hardly think straight, all she wants is to go home and curl up on the couch. But Lucas is coming in to have lunch with her and the piles of work are growing by the hour. Somehow it feels like she can't catch up no matter how hard she's working.
She answers the call without checking the caller-id. Not many people have the number to her private cell-phone and it's probably just Lucas calling to tell her he's running late. She almost hopes that this is the case because she needs the extra minutes, if not just to breathe.
"Hello?"
"Tigger! I'm so glad I got a hold of you."
Haley.
She puts the sketches down and leans back in the chair. Haley sounds so excited and she tries to let it rub off on herself. She wants to feel like that so badly, wants to enjoy being happy and in love, but there's a piece of paper in her purse that keeps her from making it happen.
She's carried it around for over two months and she should show it to Lucas but she can't. Every time she tries, her courage fails her. And then she pays for it at night in her dreams.
"Hey sweetie," she says and picks up her mug filled with lukewarm liquid caffeine. "What's up?"
She feels a little guilty for not having talked to either Haley or Jamie in over two weeks. Lucas has talked to Haley and Nathan of course and she's sent her love through him but she should be better at keeping in touch. She doesn't want them all to go back to hardly talking. Haley however, doesn't seem the least bit disappointed.
"I have a surprise!" her friend almost shrieks in her ear, sounding like she's about to burst. "Oh, Brooke, I'm so excited!"
This time she can't help but laugh. "Obviously," she chuckles; amused that Haley can still manage to sound like her high school self. "Are you gonna tell me anytime this century? Is it something about Jamie?"
"I guess you could say that," Haley muses and she puts the coffee back on the desk to shout; "Get outta here! He learned how to swim?"
"No."
"He lost his first tooth?" she tries.
"Nope."
"Oh my God" she gasps in faked shock, "Jamie found a girlfriend!"
At this Haley just laughs out loud and protests; "Brooke, he's four years old," so she gives up, now ridiculously curious and giddier than she's been in weeks. It feels so good to laugh.
"Then what, Tutor-mom?" she urges her friend, "Tell me! You're killing me here."
A pause and Haley seems to hold her breath for a second before finally letting the secret out. "He's going to be a big brother. We're having another baby!"
The laughter gets caught in her throat and Brooke freezes. An involuntary gasp gets past her lips and she hopes to God that it passes as a gasp of pure surprise and not one of pain. Because that's what she feels inside. A pain so intense that she has to bend forward over the desk.
"Wow," she breathes, forcing her voice to keep from cracking, "That is wonderful Hales. You must be so happy…"
"I am!" She can hear Haley clap her hands. "Nathan is so excited and he and Jamie want another boy, but I want a little girl, Brooke. Imagine the dresses you could make her!"
She nods and mumbles out a strained, "Yeah, imagine…" and Haley blabbers on happily about ultrasounds and about wanting to tell her this for weeks. And she does her best to sound like she couldn't be happier.
"I passed the twelve weeks mark today," Haley giggles on. "The doctor said that everything looks great."
10 weeks and 4 days… It's a shame she hadn't passed the three months mark. That would have given the baby better chances…
The memory echoes in her head and she doesn't realize that she's crying until a big teardrop slides from her cheek and falls down onto the sketch that's on top of the pile. The salty drop floats out and smudges the coloring of a purple sundress.
And then the sound of something breaking is heard in the background and Haley curses and yells for Jamie.
"Brooke, I have to go," Haley excuses and rambles something about a vase and playing football indoors. But she hardly registers the words. All she picks up is that her friend tells her to check her email. "I've sent you the sonogram-pictures" Haley squeals before hanging up to tend to her son.
For minutes Brooke sits in the same position. Phone pressed to her ear with one hand and the other hand pressed to her abdomen. The pain is still as sharp but it's getting easier to breathe. Carefully she puts the phone down and wipes away the few tears that have fallen from her face. Then she checks her reflection in her make-up mirror.
She looks tired. Tired and sad, but not as broken as she feels. Somehow she had expected to look much worse.
And then her head snaps up at the sound of Lucas' voice in the door.
"Hey Pretty girl." His smile is huge. "Did you just talk to Haley?"
Unable to speak she just nods and his smile grows even wider. "Wow, huh?" he sighs happily. "I can't believe they're having another kid…" He leans in and kisses her unmoving lips and she fails to give any response but he's too excited to notice.
"Can you believe that Hales managed to keep it a secret for over a month?" he chuckles and her heart breaks all over again when she sees the happiness on his face. His eyes are so bright and his smile so big that one could think that he's the father to be, not just the uncle.
She swallows over and over again to keep the threatening tears from spilling over. God, how she wishes that she could give him this. Whatever Rachel says, she wants to give Lucas a baby so much. And she's bleeding on the inside when she thinks about having to tell him…
"– you get them?"
"What?"
She looks up to realize that he's talking to her. And she's surprised that her voice is still intact. Maybe it's too much for her brain to handle and she has just shut off?
"Hales said that she sent you some pictures," he smiles and walks around her chair to lean over her shoulder. "Did you look at them?"
"No…"
Bracing herself, she opens up the inbox-window on her computer screen and opens the email from their friend. And when the black and white sonogram picture attachment appears on the screen, her heart simply turns to stone.
However much she wants to – however much he obviously craves it – she won't be able to give him what he wants.
It's going to be even harder to tell him about that piece of paper now.
Calm down, deep breaths
Get yourself dressed
Instead of running around,
pulling on your threads and
breaking yourself up…
-r-
She watches her brunette friend over the kitchen island and squints. It's like pulling teeth getting Brooke to talk lately and frankly its driving her insane.
One step forward, two steps back.
"Are you okay Brooke? I mean, how do you really feel about it?"
"I'll be fine…"
It's not true and they both know it. Even though she hadn't been there when Brooke hung up the phone with Haley, she knows her friend well enough to spot the lie.
"Come on B… don't do that. Don't treat me like I'm a stupid bimbo…"
She realizes that although the words are in line with her normal approach, the tone isn't. She sounds scared, almost pleading. Probably because of their past and Brooke's way of shutting down and putting up walls. She knows that Brooke is hiding something and she just feels like it would all be so much easier if she knew what.
"I miss you…" she whispers but Brooke is too busy staring at nothing to hear her.
"Where's Luke?" she asks instead and this time Brooke looks up.
"He's down at the gym," she mumbles. "I told him to go."
Meaning; Brooke told him to go so that she wouldn't have to try and fool him as well. But it's in vain and she knows it. Lucas had called her right after his and Brooke's disaster of a lunch date. He was the one that had cracked the news about Haley and the pregnancy. And he had sounded guilty as hell.
They had agreed that a baby right now was a bad idea. Or more precisely; she had told Lucas that he and Brooke couldn't take the next step as long as any of them had a substance addiction. Whether it being meds or alcohol.
He, in turn, knew how much Brooke wanted a baby, and maybe that had been what pushed him to flush down Brookes pills? But then he still wasn't bright enough to grasp that the baby-news would upset his girlfriend.
Stupid boy.
She takes a deep breath and tilts her head, letting her gaze patiently search out Brooke's hazel eyes.
"Stop lying," she says simply. "You are about as 'fine' as I'm a virgin."
Brutal honesty is the only thing that still works.
"I'm jealous…"
Brooke's voice comes out so silent that she can hardly hear her, and she looks guilty when she continues. "I told her I was happy for them… but I'm not. Or of course I am… I just feel as if it's unfair…"
"It is unfair," she agrees in a soft voice. "But that's life."
She doesn't say anything else and neither does Brooke. After several minutes, the silence seems to become too much for the brunette. The thoughts weighing too heavy.
"I'm gonna go grab a shower…" Brooke mumbles and it's obvious that she's close to breaking down into tears. Her bottom lip is already trembling and she can't seem make it stop even though she bites down on it in true Davis-fashion.
She guesses that Brooke hurts not only because Haley's phone call made the longing for a baby of her own even stronger, but because deep inside she's afraid of what all this is doing to her and Lucas. She's not sure of course because Brooke admits to none of this.
Then her friend gets up from the chair without a word and starts walking towards the bathroom. And even though she knows it's useless, she pleads with Brooke to stay and talk. But as expected, the bathroom door closes firmly behind her friend and the sound of the lock clicks loudly in the silent apartment.
Just like her, Brooke wants to fall apart without an audience.
She pleads once with the closed door even though she knows it's useless and she hears the shower start, knowing that the falling water is meant to drown the sound of her friend crying.
Something is so seriously wrong tonight, but for the first time in two years she bails.
Five minutes later she's already in her car, driving downtown to hide out at the office. For the first time in two years she can't bare to stay.
Hold your own, know your name
and go your own way.
Everything will be fine in time
-l-
He comes back from the gym at nine and he's surprised at the silence in the apartment. He had expected Rachel to be home with Brooke, but the rooms are dark and the door to the redhead's bedroom is ajar, showing no trace of anyone being in there.
He curses silently and dumps his jacket in the hallway.
He really hopes that they haven't both gone in to solve some office crisis. Brooke is way too tired to even function straight. He should know because he's bordering on insanity from lack of sleep himself. And he doesn't have to go to work in the mornings.
But when he enters the dark living room he can see the contour of Brooke lying on the couch and he sighs. Walks over to her sleeping form and carefully picks her up. She curls into a ball and mumbles sleepy gibberish into his chest.
"Go back to sleep baby…" he hushes and kisses her forehead. "I'm here now…"
He had been excited about Haley's news, at least until he realized how many wounds this was ripping up for his girlfriend. It breaks his heart that he can't make it better for her, and even more so that she seems so scared that she's not enough for him as long as she not carrying his child. Because nothing could be more wrong.
So what if Nathan and Haley got to have two kids before they had their first. They had all the time in the world. He just needs her to be happy… and lately she's anything but that.
He carries her into their bedroom and gently puts her down on the bed. Then he lies down beside her and wraps his arms around her. She scoots closer and sighs into his chest while he gently rubs her back in circular motions.
It's not normal to miss someone the way he misses Brooke every time he leaves her side. Even two hours at the gym caused a feeling of withdrawal. Without her he's simply not complete and often it's like he's not really breathing until he holds her close.
He just wishes that she'd let him close mentally as well as physically.
"You're home…" she mumbles sleepily and sneaks her hands in under his sweater. The simple action makes his chest ache.
Softly he places a kiss at the corner of her mouth and when he feels her lips curl into a tired smile he does it again. And again. The forth time she meets his lips, surprising him with openmouthed kisses, and the feel of her tongue makes him moan and pull her even closer. After the days they've both had he needs to have her as close as possible.
"I missed you, you know…" he whispers and the soothing rubs against her back travels lower. "And I don't like when you're sad when I can't comfort you."
Her fingers start unbuttoning his jeans and she kisses him again.
"I wasn't sad" she mumbles. She smiles, but it's just her lips, not her eyes.
"Don't lie," he replies softly and her smile fades a little. Her hand comes up to rest on his cheek and then her lips are back on his. God, why was it so hard for her to say out loud that she was hurting?
"It doesn't matter," she lets out and presses herself closer to him. "You can comfort me now…"
That he can. If nothing else, then he can at least do that. So he lets the kisses turn more and more heated and makes her t-shirt disappears. Then his jeans. Sweater. Her pajama-pants. For a second he smiles on the inside about the fact that it never gets less passionate between them. How easy it is to ignite the spark, even on a night like this.
He briefly wonders if they'll still be like this when they're old and grey… But he's pulled back to reality when her hand finds the bulge in his boxers.
To retaliate he grazes his hand over her naked thigh and he can see that she tries to silence the moan that moves upward in her throat. With her eyes closed she runs her hands through his hair and his lips find her neck. She moans loudly this time, not able to stay quiet any longer and she wraps her legs around his body.
"Don't tease me…" she whispers, her voice already raspy with want. "Not tonight…"
But he slowly unbuttons her bra, licking his way down her collarbone and further down between her breasts, leaving a moist trail with his tongue, and she breathes in.
"I'm just taking my time," he breathes as he pulls the fabric away from her chest and circles his way to her nipple. "I've missed this so much…"
She moans louder and arches her back, giving into the feelings he is provoking in her. In her senses he is probably everywhere and nowhere; she should be feeling his presences, his hands, his lips all around her body but it doesn't seem to be enough. The feeling of him all around her isn't enough right now and she needs more. He kisses his way down from the valley between her breasts to her stomach and navel and just above her underwear, his hands making their way down as well but touching her sides.
And when he reaches her panties he just looks up at her, a smirk in place, and tilts his head with an eyebrow raised. His fingers loop through the fabric and he pulls at it gently, playfully, before ridding her of the material completely.
Maybe if he makes this good enough, she'll forget her pain and nightmares for a moment. Maybe even long enough to get some real sleep.
His lips turn back to her breast and she arches her back to get him to take it in his mouth. He lifts his head a little so that he is still hovering over her, and she moans again, probably because his breath is tickling her. She arches more, urging him to touch her. And he does.
Closing his mouth around the darker nipple he feels her shiver under him. He bites it carefully and leans himself on the right elbow as he lets his left hand trail down in between them. The skin on her belly is soft and warm and he continues down lower when his fingers suddenly feel the scar.
She opens her eyes and her eyelids flicker as she tries to hold his gaze with hers. He sucks the hard nipple in between his teeth once more before he brings his head up to level with hers and their lips crash together. But the feeling of the healed skin under his fingertips always brings back too many memories and he has to stop to let out a shaky breath.
She probably notices the change in him because she stops moving underneath him.
"Luke… please," she gasps in desperation. She presses herself closer to him as if she thinks that he is holding back purposely, just to keep her on that torturous edge.
She opens his mouth with her lips and runs her tongue over his, pulling his head closer to her. He relaxes and before he knows it, the legs that she has wrapped around him have guided him to where she wants him and he slides inside her.
Home.
And maybe it's all the emotions that struggle to come out? Maybe it's the way her vulnerability holds his heart in a vice-like grip? Either way – he gives in. Fuck Rachel and her opinions. If Brooke wants a baby, he's going to make that happen. Just as long as she's happy.
"I'll give you a baby Brooke…" he whispers against her neck, trailing kisses against her skin. "I will, I promise. We'll have lots of babies. As soon as you're ready…"
He moves inside her, ever so slowly, and her hands stroke the skin on his neck, her fingers combing through his hair.
"I really wanted those two boys and that little girl…" she mumbles back, but her voice suddenly sounds thick with threatening tears and he grows worried.
"Hey…" he sooths, "What's the matter? We can still have that."
Her body heaves under him as she lets out a sob and he holds himself up on his elbows to be able to look at her face. Tears are streaming down her cheeks and he inwardly curses himself for not realizing sooner that she is still that vulnerable.
He shouldn't have brought up the subject tonight in this already messed up situation.
He just wanted to make her feel better.
"Its okay baby…" he soothes. "It's going to be okay now…"
But she turns her head, averting her eyes from his and lets out another deep sob.
"No it's not…" she whispers. Her strangled breath turns into a sob and she pushes him off of her. "You'll see," she mumbles and curls up away from him. And even though she's not looking at him, he can see the sudden distance in her eyes and the loss of her warm body makes the words sound even scarier.
He watches her in the darkness and for the thousandth time in the last few weeks he thinks the same thing.
Where is the invisible wound that is still hurting her? What the hell is it that he can't see?
He's so tired of fighting a losing battle. Especially when he is unaware of what exactly it is that he's fighting against.
Are there details in the fabric?
Are there things that make you panic?
Are your thoughts results of static cling?
-b-
She can't seem to go back to sleep. The room is too hot and the air too stale. Her legs keep getting caught in the sheets and feeling frustrated and tired, she groans and kicks them to free herself.
"Luke…" she whines into the pillow, "Can you open a window?"
He doesn't answer and she turns to poke him, but she's met by nothing but an empty bed. He's not there.
"Luke?" she mumbles again in the dark room. "Lucas?"
The apartment is silent as she slips out of the bed and tiptoes out into the hallway. Something feels wrong. She just can't seem to pinpoint what it is exactly that makes her feel that way.
But then she hears the faint sound of voices from the kitchen and she smiles and shrugs off the unnecessary worry. If both Lucas and Rachel are up, there's no reason for her to try to sleep. Why hadn't they just waked her up?
"Hey guys," she says as she walks through the door to the dimly lit kitchen, but then she stops and frowns. Lucas is standing with his back towards her, but instead of her redheaded best friend, a very familiar blonde is sitting at the kitchen table.
The feeling of something being wrong comes back and intensifies in her chest.
"Peyton?" she mumbles confused, "What are you doing here?"
Her blonde childhood friend smiles back at her sadly and she turns to Lucas instead. "Luke? What's going on?"
All she can think about, as he slowly turns towards her, is how messed up everything had been right before the went to bed and she wishes that she hadn't been so weak. She doesn't like that Peyton is here, she doesn't even know why he blonde has suddenly surfaced in their apartment, and she'd feel calmer if Lucas wasn't the slightest bit angry with her. Right now she can't be sure.
But then his eyes meet hers and he's smiling. And for a second she feels like everything is going to be okay. Until she sees the infant he's holding in his arms.
"Brooke," he whispers softly, "Look at Peyton's beautiful baby."
Her heart stops and she takes a step back.
No.
She can deal with Haley; she has to be able to deal with Haley – but not this.
Lucas coos down at the baby in his arms and Peyton smiles up at him. And suddenly she feels like she can't breathe. Her chest tightens and she tries to will away the immense feeling of jealousy and grief. Tries to force herself to say "Congratulations" but when she opens her mouth, no words come out.
"Isn't she gorgeous?" Peyton says proudly. "She looks just like you, Luke. I bet she'll be such a daddy's girl."
"Wh–, what?"
Her back hits the doorpost when she takes another step back in pure shock and then she stumbles back out into the hallway. What the hell's going on here? Her eyes dart around and that's when she sees it. The walls in the hallway are white. The reason to why something felt wrong before is this. This is not her hallway. This is not her fucking hallway…
"Rachel?" she calls out because she needs her friend to come and help her understand this. She needs Rachel to explain what is going on before she goes insane.
Lucas looks at her from inside the kitchen and his eyes are full of sympathy. She watches him hand the baby back to Peyton and then he steps out into the white hallway and cups her cheek in his palm.
"You know that it has to be this way, pretty girl," he mumbles gently and presses his cool lips towards her forehead. "You know that I can't stay."
And suddenly a nurse rushes past behind him and the sound of beeping machines fills the air. She hyperventilates and tries to push him back but he stands his ground and continues holding her face in between his hands.
"I love you," she begs and his eyes turn sad as he shakes his head defeated.
"I know Brooke… but it doesn't matter."
An intense pain spreads at her abdomen and she doesn't have to look down to know that the hole has ripped open. She doesn't have to reach down to feel the wet sticky blood pouring out of her.
"Don't go…" she whispers, but Lucas is already walking backwards.
"I have to," he whispers back with a pained face. "If you can't give me this, Brooke… then I can't stay…"
Tears are already sliding down her face and she wipes them away with the piece of fabric in her hand. The soft blanket smells so familiar and she presses it towards her cheek for a second before closing her eyes.
Then she waits. The truck will come through the wall at any moment now.
For the first time she welcomes it.
Are there things that make you blow?
Hell, no reason,
go on and scream.
If you're shocked, it's just the fault
of faulty manufacturing
-l-
He's so in tune with Brooke's broken sleeping patterns nowadays that the slightest movement wakes him up. That's why he's not at all surprised to open his eyes and find her sitting up in bed.
For a second he lets his eyes get used to the darkness and then he sits up beside her and slides his hand down her back in a soothing gesture. But the instant his hand makes contact with her back, she jumps as if she's been burned.
He mumbles her name softly, hoping she will tell him what's wrong. But instead she just lets out a sigh that makes his heart split in two and he pulls her towards his chest.
"Nightmare?" he whispers and kisses the top of her head.
She nods and turns her face away from his so that he can't see her eyes. "Don't ask me about what," she begs and her voice sounds so tired and small that he hardly recognizes it. Then she pulls away and moves her feet over the side of the bed. He watches as she starts to get up but her legs are shaking so bad that she can't stand.
"Brooke?" he questions worriedly, "Are you okay?"
She nods but sits back down and as he turns on the light on the nightstand, he can see that her hands are shaking even worse.
"I'm so – I'm just—just s-so tired," she stutters out with tense shoulders. "I – I need to sleep." Her hands rub over her face in an attempt to wipe away the nightmare.
He sighs and closes his eyes to gather some energy. Then he looks at the red numbers on the alarm-clock.
3.12 am.
This is her fifth nightmare tonight.
She pulls her shaking hands through her dark hair and her breathing is strained as if she's about to start crying. So he pulls her back towards him and she collapses into his chest, sounding as if she can't get a sufficient amount of air into her lungs. He worriedly rubs her back while whispering the same thing over and over.
"Breathe, Brooke. Breathe…"
"I… can't," she gasps and struggles to get free from his arms. "Please…"
"Please, what?" He pulls her up into a more upright position and rubs her arms up and down because he worries that she'll start to hyperventilate. "Tell me what you need, Brooke."
She's trembling and she keeps pushing him away, and eventually he lets her go and backs up. A tiny voice in the back of his head wonders if she's going through withdrawal. He's not even sure if sleeping pills cause that. And how about the anti-depressants?
"Just tell me, baby," he whispers when she curls up into a ball and finally starts crying. "Do you want me to get Rachel?"
She shakes her head and she keeps repeating "I'm so tired," between the hiccupping sobs. And then the plead that he fears falls from her lips. She wants him to give her Xanax and he can't.
"I – I can't do this," she cries, "I'm too tired… I can't go through it again…"
She just wants dreamless sleep and he feels like ass for refusing her. Every sob from her sends shockwaves of pain through his chest and he bites down hard on his lip. He doesn't want her to hurt like this.
"You know that I flushed them down the toilet," he forces out and suddenly wishes that he hadn't. "You watched me do it, Brooke. Remember?" Desperate to console her, he reaches for her again and pulls her tightly to his chest. "I'm sorry, baby…" he whispers against her hair. "I'm so sorry…"
He's so fucking sorry for everything.
She balls his t-shirt in her fists and the sobs start to sound more and more tired.
"I feel like I'm losing it," she mumbles in between the tears, "I think I'm going insane, Luke…"
The weariness in her voice efficiently breaks the last piece of his heart. There's a reason that they use sleep-deprivation as torture in warfare.
"You're just tired, Pretty girl," he soothes the best he can. "I've got you now… Everything is gonna be okay…"
How though, he's not sure. Honestly he doesn't have a fucking clue. Because she falls asleep against his chest just seconds later, but he keeps the nightlight on and after less then fifteen minutes her eyes start moving under her eyelids and she wriggles in his arms.
"No… don't…" she mumbles, wrinkling her forehead in a frown that shows him she's heading into another nightmare. "Don't–, don't leave me…"
Sighing, he brings his arms tighter around her.
"Wake up, baby" he says gently, trying not to scare her more than necessary in her parallel world of fear. "Brooke, wake up."
Her eyes snap open and she takes a breath. This time the tears of tiredness come instantly and he gathers her in his arms and lifts her off of the bed.
"Okay, up we go," he mumbles into her ear and she cries against his chest all the way out into the hallway and over to Rachel's bedroom. He doesn't even knock, he just pushes the door open with his foot and mutters out a tired, "Rach, are you decent?" into the dark room.
"Never," comes the equally tired answer and he walks over to the bed and lowers his still crying girlfriend down next to her redheaded best friend. He kisses Brooke's forehead and gives Rachel a pleading look that probably says more than the next few words that slip out of his mouth.
"I need some air. Can you take over for an hour?"
Rachel frowns but nods, and as he turns to walk back out, he sees her wrap her arm around Brooke before pulling the cover over them both.
"Shh…" she whispers softly, "calm breaths, B… deep breaths."
He closes the door behind him and goes to get dressed. It's almost four o'clock in the morning and he has two options.
Waking up Owen McAllister or head to the closest bar.
If it's a broken part replace it
If it's a broken arm then brace it
If it's a broken heart then face it
-r-
She stands by the window, letting the night breeze blow away the cigarette smoke and cleanse the air in the room. The wisps of grey dissolve before her eyes and then she breathes out some more in its place. The whole procedure is monotone but somehow calming.
She doesn't smoke often, just when her nerves are on the outside like tonight, and she shouldn't be smoking in her bedroom. But then again, she really doesn't want to leave Brooke. Once tonight was more than enough.
She twists a strand of her red hair around her finger and takes another drag off the cigarette. Then she lets the hair go in favor for her cell phone. Ponders if she should or if she shouldn't call. She wants to trust Lucas, she's just not sure if she can.
Because tonight is just like the night he slipped up.
"Brooke, tell me what's wrong baby. Please…"
From the doorway she watched how Lucas pleaded to the crying heap on the bed. "I need to know what happened, Brooke. You need to tell me what it is that scares you…"
And like the last fifty times he asked the brunette, she just sobbed and gasped for air as if the pressure in her chest caused difficulty to breathe. No words were coming out, no explanations or summaries of the nightmares that suddenly had started again.
As Lucas pleaded with Brooke for the fifty-first time, Rachel sighed in her hideout in the dark hallway. She had heard him going on like this for half an hour and finally she had gotten so tired of the constant begging that she got out of bed and went over to the other bedroom to simply tell him to shut up. Why it made her so irritated, she couldn't figure out, but his pleading drove her insane. Probably because it was mirroring her own helpless frustration.
She'd do the same if it helped Brooke. She'd do anything.
And when she thought about it – she had. In the beginning she had pleaded just like Lucas did right now, no matter how out of character it had been. She was known to be a bitch, known to give tough love and honest opinions, however much they stung. But when it came down to it, she had cowered out and called Nathan, too weak to push Brooke into recovery herself.
Back then, she just hadn't been able to deal with a broken Brooke. Now she was numb to the entire thing. Brooke's pain still hurt – the tears that the brunette shed and the fear she seemed to feel when waking up over and over, still stabbed her right in the heart. But she could deal with it without cringing now.
Somehow she had learned to deal with the helplessness by staying cold.
"Nothing happened Luke," she sighed and stepped into the room, making him shift his eyes from Brooke to the door where she stood. "It's the dreams. It's just a really bad one tonight."
It pained her to see how helpless he looked and she sighed in irritation. Great, now she'd have two broken souls to try and keep in check. She watched him turn back to Brooke, reaching out to hold her, and when Brooke recoiled from his hand as if frightened, he growled out in frustration and slammed his hand against the bedspread before balling it in his fist.
"God Brooke, what!" he spat out, his voice so full of frustration that even she took a step back. "I'm trying to understand. I'm not trying to hurt you!"
Brooke curled up in a ball and said nothing. And where as she had flinched at Lucas' outburst, Brooke didn't seem affected at all.
"Calm down, Luke," she mumbled and walked over to put a hand on his shoulder. "It's was probably her doctor's appointment that ripping up old wounds… You know that she hates hospitals…" She squeezed down on his tense muscle and nodded towards the kitchen. "Give her a minute, okay? She'll come up when she's pulled herself together a little."
The sigh that slipped out from him seemed to come from the bottom of the abyss. But he got up and dragged himself out into the hallway.
"Hey," she mumbled once she had pushed the bedroom door closed after them, "This is nothing personal, Luke. She does the same thing with me." She grabbed his arm. "Lucas, listen. She doesn't want to ta–"
She never finished the sentence because Lucas ripped his arm out of her grip and slammed his fist hard enough into the wall for it to make a cracking sound.
"I can't do this!" he bellowed and when he spun around and faced her, she thought she saw tears in his eyes. "I can't fucking deal with this, Rachel! Did you see the way she flinched back? What the hell am I supposed to do?"
His hands reached up and grabbed his hair and she wanted to tell him that his knuckles were bleeding. But what was the use? Compared to how his heart ached, he probably didn't even feel the scrapes from his collision course with the wall.
"Luke…" she tried to sooth, "she's just upset. I don't know what happened today but maybe I shouldn't have forced her to drive? Maybe it was the movie with the car-crash…"
But he just shook his head and kept his gaze away from hers. When he lowered his hands, they were shaking. Badly.
"I need –, I – I just need to…"
He stuttered and she bit her lip, waiting for him to calm down. But instead he started walking towards the door.
"Where are you going?" she asked and followed. "Hey, Luke, come on."
"I can't deal with this…" he just repeated and grabbed his jacket from the chair by the door. "I need to…"
He trailed off and seconds later he disappeared out through the front door. She didn't need the end of the sentence though. She already knew what he needed.
Lucas Scott needed to get drunk.
Brooke turns over in the bed and her eyes stay on her brunette friend until she stops stirring. Then she stumps out the cigarette on the window sill and looks back down on her phone.
It had been one slip up. The only one Lucas had since coming to New York. And she's still not sure who were angrier when he finally fell in through the door hours later – her at Lucas or Lucas at himself.
All she knows is that he slipped up because the pressure got to him and this last week has been the worst by far.
Calling in some re-enforcements wasn't a crime, was it? Even if Lucas wasn't relapsing again tonight, it still couldn't hurt with some help. So she dials the well known number and waits. And when the person on the other end answers, she slides down into a sitting position next to the bed and whispers,
"Nate? Can you come up to New York?"
Hang on, help is on the way
Stay strong, I'm doing everything
Hold your own…
-l-
It's the same as last time.
Not the same hole in the wall of course. He doesn't want to go to the same place twice, in fear of feeling too 'at home', but all these crap-joints look the same. Same smells, same music, same ugly interior, even the same people.
At least they look the same to him.
"What'll it be, dude? Heineken? Budweiser?"
He looks up at the bartender and wonders to himself if the guy's name is Pete. Wasn't that the name of all bartenders? Then he shakes his head and takes a deep breath.
"Coffee, please," he mutters, "Black. And a mineral water."
The bartender shrugs and moves on to the next client and he breathes out shakily, leaning his elbows on the bar's worn down counter. The hand that pats his back is expected, even before he feels it, and it makes him relax.
"Good job, man," Owen says behind him and squeezes his shoulder. "You almost sounded like you meant it this time."
"I did mean it," he mutters back, just as the bartender places the cup of black steaming coffee in front of him. But Owen chuckles dryly.
"No you didn't. But you will."
He shrugs in response. Owen is a bartender and an alcoholic himself, so he should know. What was it Owen had said the first time they did this? Fear needs to be fought back and handled in its natural habitat. Well, he's fighting his damn ass off right now.
He wouldn't be fighting this hard if it wasn't for her.
Owen slumps down on the barstool next to him and orders a coffee of his own. Then they just sit there as the bar starts emptying out. Not a lot of places like this are open at 4:30 in the morning, it's mostly nightclubs, but one can always count on the back-alley joints down in West Village. They stay open until the last guest leaves.
"I think she's falling apart," he finally mumbles, breaking their mutual silence.
"She or you?" Owen replies and sips the hot coffee.
"How about both of us?"
He's not trying to be dramatic. It's just how he feels. As if they're a house of cards and it's all tumbling down faster than he can put them together. Brooke's been breaking more and more over the last couple of weeks and it can't just be over the therapy sessions. Rachel thinks it is, but it has to be something else.
"You're doing good, Luke," Owen says beside him. "You've got a lot more strength in you than I thought."
He nods and mumbles, "Thank you," but he doesn't necessarily agree. Owen has no clue on how much he still craves it. A beer, a drink, a shot… anything.
Or maybe he actually does know, maybe that's why the taller guy still isn't buying his crap. He knows that he owes Owen a lot. If it weren't for him, the only slip-up so far would have turned into several more. Just look at tonight. He would never have made it this far without Owens support.
Still, he feels like an ass for keeping his newfound friendship with the guy a secret. Neither Brooke, nor Rachel knows that Owen is his sponsor. They don't even know that Owen is in New York. And several times he's asked Owen to let him tell the girls but the former bartender stubbornly keeps saying no. Apparently he thinks it will make things even more complicated but Lucas can't see how.
Currently everything is as fucked up as it can possibly get, he thinks.
"How're things at home in general?" Owen asks when he stays silent, "You sounded pretty fed up last night when I called. Did you and Brooke have another fight?"
Lucas hates how hard it is to talk about Brooke. It would be so much easier to swallow a beer than to discuss his issues. But he's the one who called Owen and asked for his company. Both physically, and emotionally exhausted, he sighs and shrugs off his jacket.
"Rachel is grumpier than ever," he starts with a frown, "she's hardly said two words to me in the last couple of days." He can feel Owen looking at him but he keeps his gaze down into his mug. "I'd say that she's pissed off at me, but she could just be tired. She sleeps almost as little as Brooke."
Then it's Owens turn to frown, but he says nothing. It's almost funny how much life has changed in the last couple of months. Who the hell would have thought that he'd be opening up to Owen?
Well, he for sure wouldn't have.
"And Brooke?" Owen asks as he plays with a beer-coaster. "Any change now that she's off the pills?"
"None other than the fact that the nightmares have doubled. Tonight she begged me to let her have the sleeping pills back." He feels guilty to be sharing such intimate details about Brooke to anyone other than Rachel. But it's impossible to keep everything bottled up inside now that he can't hide his problems with alcohol. "I'm starting to think that getting rid of them was a bad idea." He admits shamefully, as if confessing such a thought is damaging to everything they've worked so hard to achieve. "Especially now that Haley and Nathan are having another baby."
It's been a week since the therapy session when he told her that he'd had enough, five days since he exploded and cleaned out her bathroom cabinet. To say that things have been tense ever since then would be an understatement. It hurts like hell to see her nightmares get worse with every night that passes and he's entirely fed up with her silence. Yet he has to endure it, every day, because he loves her that much.
For her, he'll go through anything and this is the only way. Right?
He spins the mug and sighs. Even before he flushed her pills down the drain, she had seemed like she was paddling backwards. Just from one day to the next she had gone from getting better to closing up like a complete clam. Rachel has been just as clueless and they've both gone over it a million times during their late-night talks in the kitchen.
Brooke had acted like something had ripped up all the memories from before and that was before the therapy sessions had even started. He even knows what day it was. It was that day when…
His hand freezes mid-air, "Oh shit," he mumbles, his water almost at his lips when the thought hits him, "Fuck!" he slams the glass back down so hard it sloshes over the brim and slides down his hand.
It's was probably her doctor's appointment that ripping up old wounds… You know that she hates hospitals…
Owens hand comes to rest on his shoulder after seeing the color drain from Luke's face. "What's wrong, man?"
"It was the doctor's appointment," he groans and rips his jacket off the chair, ready to rush out through the door. "Something happened at the fucking hospital!"
Owen slaps a twenty dollar bill on the counter and follows him as he jogs out of the worn down bar.
It's just a routine check up, Lucas. Go to your AA-meeting and I'll see you at home tonight…
Ice fills his chest as he gets into his car and it doesn't even register when Owen slides in on the passenger side. Like his own personal security guard, ready and willing for anything. He'd thank him if he wasn't so twisted up in his own thoughts in that moment.
How could he have been so stupid? So caught up in his own selfish thoughts as to be so fucking blind?
"You can't come," he says starting the car.
Owens shakes his head, "I'm not leaving you alone looking like you're about to relapse." He scoffs.
"I'm going home," he states.
"And?"
"Rachel is there," he says pulling out of the bar.
Owen sighs and buckles his seatbelt, "She was gonna find out somehow."
Lucas wishes he had found things out a lot sooner. Because his slight slip in taking care of the one woman he vowed to protect?
May have just cost what was left of her dwindling sanity.
Are the details in the fabric?
Are the things that make you panic?
Is it Mother Nature's sewing machine?
-x-
Authors note: Abrupt ending? Sorry, it couldn't be helped.
This chapter didn't take as long to get up as the last one but now I need to concentrate on Comfortable Liar for a bit so it may be a couple of weeks before the next one is posted. And while I still remember; some of you commented on the way Lucas wanted Brooke's prescription cancelled. And you were right; he can't make the therapist cancel them. That's why he flushed them down. Quitting prescription medication like that might not be the best way to go, as Stagediva23 pointed out, but he's scared and frustrated and he's basically just doing what he thinks is best. Anyhow, everything will unfold in the next chapter.
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