Author's Notes: I do not own the rights to The Covenant movie or its characters, original plot, or places. All additional content is either origianl or pulled from the Ipswich, MA website.
Full description: It's been three months since Brooke has been home to Ipswich and four years since she's truly dealt with any of the people in it. Upon securing a new job with a friend, she is re-introduced to the reason that she dreaded coming back home in the first place: the Sons of Ipswich. Past relationships muddle with new ones as Brooke tries desperately to repair old friendships and sustain new ones. But what happens when her new life comes crashing into the old one in a way that no one thought was possible? Feelings fade back in again as someone that wasn't supposed to be alive re-enters the playing field with a suspicious case of amnesia and a connection to Brooke that no one can understand, let alone break.
It wasn't an atypical Tuesday in Ipswich: the afternoon sun was out, warming the air to a comfortable 75 degrees with a light breeze to tussle some leaves on the ground every now and again. The streets weren't busy with people like they were on weekends since most of the population were middle-aged white folks with full-time day jobs. This is what made it the perfect day for a homecoming.
Still, Brooke was slouched down in her father's Mercedes as he drove down Central Street towards their neighborhood. Her eyes scanned the streets, imagining that everyone on the sidewalk they passed was whispering something about her. It had been four years since she had been home for good, and in a town of just over 4,000 people word got around fast.
"You okay back there, Brooke?" her father asked as he pulled up to a stoplight.
Brooke didn't need to see her father's face to know that he was concerned; she could hear it in his voice. She shot him a glance, though, and saw that he was actually smiling at her. It was a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.
"I'm fine, Dad," she responded, offering up a smile of her own.
Her father nodded and looked back to the red light just in time for it to turn green. He accelerated gently through the intersection and continued up just three more streets as Central turned into Main before he turned off into their neighborhood.
Brooke sat up then, noting how the houses hadn't really changed since she had been home last. In truth, it hadn't been but three months since she had been back in Ipswich. This time, though, she was expected to stay. The staff at Morten House had made it very clear that they didn't want to see her step through their doors as a patient in the near future.
The roads leading up to the Garcia home all looked the same as they did three months ago. Then again, not much ever really changed in the old-money neighborhoods of Massachusetts; especially when gated all of the homes were gated and had huge, sprawling lots that needed a large staff to tend to.
"Are Mom and Jude home?" Brooke asked as her father directed the car through the opening gate to the property. There was still a good hundred yards of cobblestone driveway before they would even reach the roundabout that sat in the front of the house.
Raul—her father—nodded as he pulled up and around the hedges that were in the center of the roundabout. "They will be," he said, his words directly contradicting his action. "They knew I was picking you up today, but your sister had a meeting with her new agent and your mother's firm is working on a rather large case at the moment." He paused to shut the car off and look over at Brooke. She knew he could tell that she was one the fence with her emotions. Her relationships with her mother, Kathleen, and sister, Jude, had always been strange ones.
"Do you know when they'll be home?" Brooke asked as she exited the Mercedes.
Raul shrugged noncommittally. "I can't say for sure, Brookie," he said as he rounded the back of the car to grab some of the things in the trunk.
Brooke joined him, slinging her camera case across her shoulder and hefting one of the rolling suitcases out of the car before her father gently pushed the trunk closed. She watched her father climb the steps up to the front door and took in a deep, slow breath. The Garcia house had always been formidable to Brooke, but it seemed so much more monstrous at current. Her family had money, that was apparent by the sheer size of the property they lived on, but that wasn't what was so intimidating to the petite young woman. Despite her father's generally warm nature and ability to work from home, the house had always seemed so empty. True, there was consistently a staff there throughout the day on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, but they left right at five PM when Raul said their work day was over. And, if she was being honest, having people in the house didn't necessarily mean that it wasn't lonely.
Shaking off her mix of emotions, Brooke yanked up the handle to her suitcase and followed her father up the few stairs to the front door. She was met with a much more inviting and familiar sight than she had gotten used to. She found a smile creeping onto her face as she followed her father through the foyer to the large, circular staircase that led to the upper part of the house. Her smile grew as they walked further into the house and she began to smell the comforting scent of the cinnamon candles that her mother was so fond of.
The familiarity continued as they walked down the stretch of hallway to where Brooke and Jude's rooms were located. None of the pictures on the walls had changed—the pictures of an outwardly happy and perfect family smiled down at her as she followed her father to her room.
"Hopefully your mother and sister get home soon enough," Raul said as she pushed the door to his youngest daughter's room open with his shoulder.
"It's alright if they don't," Brooke responded, hoping that her father wouldn't hear the relief in her voice. "I actually have plans a little later tonight. One of my friends from high school was able to get me an interview down at Nicky's."
She watched her father stiffen at the mention of a high school friend. He eyed his daughter carefully as he set her things down and straightened up.
"Which friend?"
Brooke sighed and rolled her eyes at her father's concern. He always had been the more caring of the Garcia parents.
"Desi. I met her after you and Mom pulled me out of Spenser and put me at Ipswich High," she explained. "I guess Nicky did some remodeling last year and is trying to turn the place into a music venue. Desi told him I was a photographer and he might want to bring me on to do promotional stuff, too."
Her father relaxed visibly and nodded. High school for Brooke was a touchy subject with the Garcia family, despite her having graduated two years prior and the incident in question had happened two years before that. Four years was a long time to hold on to something for normal people, but Raul and Kathleen Garcia were far from normal.
"Sounds good, sweetheart. When were you going down there?" he asked, lingering in the doorway for a moment as he waited for his daughter to answer.
Brooke looked at the digital clock by her bedside; it read two-thirty. "I need to be there by four," she said, looking back to her father.
Raul nodded and looked towards the hallway, knocking on the doorframe as if to fill the silence. Brooke watched him carefully and shifted from foot to foot, waiting for him to either leave or speak.
"Well, it's good to have you home, Brooke. For good this time." Her father smiled at her one last time before he wandered off down the hallway.
Brooke let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding and collapsed onto her bed. It was much softer than the one she'd had at Morten House, so it as hard for her not to just close her eyes and fall into the nap she so desperately wanted to take.
Sitting up slowly, Brooke let her eyes wander around her room. It seemed like the only person who had been in there since she'd gone back to Morten House was the cleaning lady since there was no evidence of the last scene she had caused in her home. The glass had been cleaned up out of the carpet and her posters had been neatly tacked back onto the wall from where they had fallen. The broken mirror that had been the source of the glass had been replaced and the blood…was still there?
Brooke squinted at the spot on the carpet where her blood had been dripping onto. Was she hallucinating or had her parents really just left the stain there? She knelt down to examine the spot beside her bed, finally realizing that she had definitely been seeing things. The carpet had either been replaced entirely, or her parents hired a damn good cleaning service to make her room look spotless.
Straightening back up, Brooke sighed and ran both of her hands through her bleached blonde hair. She tangled her fingers there and closed her eyes, actively telling herself to calm down. Things were going to be different this time. She was home for good. She even had a job interview in less than two hours to help drive the point home.
Brooke pulled into the parking lot outside Nicky's just a few minutes before four. She scanned the parking lot before she dared to get out of her father's Mercedes that she had borrowed. After a few seconds, her eyes landed on what she hoped was Desi's car just a few spaces down. The back window of the Land Rover was plastered in New England Patriots stickers and she could see the crystals hanging from the rearview mirror. The sight of her friend's car put her at ease.
The gravel crunched beneath Brooke's boot as she stepped from the car and looked towards the bar. It was still early enough for the late-night crowd to be absent, but late enough for the more casual patrons to be on their way out or close to it. She was glad for it, too; the last thing she needed was a crowd of people around her.
Brooke slung her camera bag over her shoulder and headed towards the building, making sure to notice everything about the sound her boots made on the ground and the way the air felt on her skin to keep her from turning tail and running. She didn't not want to be there, but she had always had a hard time with new experiences and new people. Luckily for her, Desi was a good friend and Nicky was a familiar face. She couldn't even remember the amount of times she and Tyler had been to the spot with his friends.
Tyler.
The thought of the boy made Brooke stop dead in her tracks. She hadn't thought about him in weeks. At least not without consistent coaxing from one of the therapists. Her schoolgirl feelings had faded for the boy, but that didn't mean Brooke still didn't care about him to an extent. Especially considering what happened back then and the way she had left…
Brooke shook her head and planted her feet in the earth as if to draw power from it. That was four years ago and he had moved on. He'd probably even moved out of the dead-end town that was Ipswich.
With her wits wrapped firmly about her again, Brooke continued into the bar. She pushed the door open and poked her head in, smiling when she saw just how different it looked. The bar was still located in the center of the space, but Nicky had built a stage and small sound booth at the far wall with a rather large dance floor between it and the bar. The front space still held the old jukebox, foosball and pool tables, and a few tall bar tables, but everything else has been updated. The place still held its dive bar atmosphere, but everything much more high tech than the last time Brooke had been there.
"Oh my God, Brooke!"
The sound of a voice pulled Brooke's attention to the bar. She grinned broadly when she saw Desi bounding towards her, the girl's long brunette ponytail swishing behind her. Brooke laughed as Desi pulled her into a tight hug. She returned the hug with slightly less gusto; not like Desi would notice though.
"I'm so glad you showed up! Nicky's been trying to find someone to fill this position for weeks," Desi said as she released Brooke and took her head. "I knew you'd just gotten back into town today, so I wasn't sure you would even be here. I'm so glad you are!"
Brooke smiled as she let Desi lead her towards the bar where Nicky stood cleaning a glass. Desi had always been a talkative girl, but she was so kind-hearted and genuine that Brooke couldn't help but be drawn to her. They had kept in touch all throughout Brooke's various school switches and stays at the Morten House. Suffice to say, Desi was probably one of Brooke's best friends. One of.
"So you're some kind of photographer, eh?" Nicky asked. His voice was gruff and firm, but it held an underling kindness that Brooke didn't miss.
Nodding, Brooke reached for her camera bag and unzipped one of the side pockets where she kept a small, condensed copy of her portfolio. It was five or six five-by-seven prints of her favorite photos that she felt captured her voice as a photographer. Handing Nicky the book, Brooke said, "I'd like to say I specialize in music photography, but I can pretty much do anything else. I could even take pictures of the food if you wanted to update the menu or the website."
Nicky took the small book from her and flipped through it more quickly than Brooke would have liked. She frowned and glanced at Desi who was nothing but smiles. She seemed to be oblivious to Nicky having made up his mind about Brooke wasting his time. Brooke had seen Nicky's look on other people's faces and knew that he was about to tell her that he was sorry for wasting her time. She inhaled deeply and prepped herself for the inevitable rejection.
"You're hired. How old are you?"
Brooke's eyes went wide and she nearly choked on the breath she had let out. She coughed a few times and shook her head. "Sorry, I just…I wasn't expecting that. And I'm twenty. I'll be twenty-one in December. Why?"
Nicky nodded and handed her back the portfolio booklet. "We've been needing help behind the bar. Think you can bar back until you're old enough to become a bartender?"
The question was entirely out of left field, but Brooke wasn't about to turn down a chance at normalcy. She'd known the photographer job would be sparing in paychecks, so the option to make money every week was much more appealing.
Nodding, Brooke said, "Yeah, I can do that."
Nicky grunted and motioned to the back office. "Just let me go get the employment forms and you'll be all set, uh…Brooke, was it?"
Brooke nodded again in confirmation. Nicky gave her a nod back and headed for the office, leaving Desi and Brooke to grin at each other.
"I knew he was going to hire you," Desi said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest.
Brooke rolled her eyes. "You did not," she said.
Desi giggled and made her way behind the bar to pour herself and Brooke glasses of water. "Did too!"
Brooke laughed and took the glass from her friend, indulging Desi as she held the glass up for a toast. She took a sip from the glass, turning towards the door just in time to see it open. The harsh light from the sun caused her to lift her hand to shade her eyes and block the faces of the four men that entered. Desi recognized them, though, and let out a squeal of excitement.
"The boys are back in town!" she called excitedly.
Brooke laughed and turned back to the bar to set her water down. She blinked several times, watching the spots in her vision slowly dissipate with each pass of her eyelids. When she was able to see again, Brooke turned to see who had come in that had gotten Desi so excited that she had come out from behind the bar.
Brooke's jaw dropped when she saw the men standing in front of her.
"I didn't know you would all be back in so soon," Desi said, catching her friend's attention. She still seemed to entirely miss the recognition that flashed through Brooke's eyes as she beheld the group that Desi was so excited about.
"Brooke," her friend chimed as she slid over to grab Brooke and wheel her towards the four men. "I'd like you to meet four of my favorite people: Caleb Danvers, Pogue Parry, Reid Garwin, and—"
"Tyler Simms," Brooke said, cutting her friend off.