Author's Note: Last update for at least a week. Please enjoy and review. Much more to come soon. Thanks...

Brooke sat and just washed the waves crashing in towards the sand. She had missed living next to the beach, she thought smiling as Harmony played with her toys on the large blanket Brooke had spread out for them. She loved nothing more than to be in the company of her favorite little person but something was missing. Brooke wanted and needed more. Sighing, she pulled out her phone and hit the speed dial.

"Come on, come on", she mumbled aloud. "Please pick up…"

"Hello?"

"Thank God!"

"Wow. That's not a reception I get everyday", Peyton laughed. "What's up? Tell me all about California."

"The good things or the bad things?"

"Uh oh. Okay, we'll start with the good stuff first."

"Let's see…okay, I managed to escape yet another brutal North East winter."

"No more runny noses or frozen toes. I'm in Chicago so I can sympathize and that's definitely a plus. Go on…"

"I missed the water. It's nice to open the front door and have sand instead of grass. Plus Harmony seems to like it, too."

"I've got the thermostat turned up as high as it will go, there are two space heaters going and right now I can't imagine a wardrobe consisting of anything other than flannel pajamas and thermal underwear. All this while you're probably on the beach in shorts as we speak. The beach rocks. What else?"

"Uh, unfortunately P. Sawyer, that's about it."

"Oh come on. Brooke, there has to be something else you like."

"Nope."

"Dude, you've been there like a day so far. It can't be that bad."

"Oh yes it can, Friend. Where would you like me to start?"

"Wherever you want, Brooke", Peyton chuckled, getting comfortable as she knew how lengthy Brooke's rants could sometimes be.

"First of all, this house. It is too freaking small. Everything is open and connected and did you know that my bedroom has no walk in closet?"

"No!" Peyton exclaimed, pretending to be horrified.

"And the walls are so paper thin, I don't even need a baby monitor to hear Harmony. The carpet is ugly and that's about the nicest thing I can say for that. Death row inmates have bigger bathroom space than I do and the most horrifying, hideous, treacherous, godawful, thing you could ever imagine is mounted to the living room wall. Guess. Oh God, you'll never guess."

"But I'm sure you're willing to tell me…"

"A moose head. I shit you not. There is this huge, ugly, tacky moose head, antlers and all just chilling above the mantle."

Peyton couldn't help but laugh out loud. She would have paid money to see the look on Brooke's face the first time she saw that thing.

"Is that all?"

"You think this is funny."

"No, I don't."

"Yes you do and yeah that is all as far as the house is concerned. Gee, I shudder to think what else could be wrong with it. What the hell was Haley thinking? Wait, don't answer that. Let me guess, a cozy little warm and homey feeling romantic cottage. Uh! Excuse me while I barf. Anyway, not to mention I will be cramped up in here with Lucas for the next three months or so."

"It might not be that bad."

"Ha! You should have seen him on the plane the way over. Remember when we first noticed him in high school? Remember how broody he was? Well, I assure you that was nothing because he has turned the act of sulking and brooding into an art form. And on top of all that, I think he's mad at me which is totally ridiculous considering I did save his life and his ass come to think of it by moving out here. And now all I get is attitude. What a nerve!"

"Brooke, Brooke, Brooke. What am I gonna do with you?"

"What am I gonna do with me and this miserable, pathetic existence called life?"

"Okay. A little advice. You don't have to take it to heart but this is what I would do if I were in your situation and who knows, it just might make the time pleasantly fly by."

"I'm listening…"

"Good. The house? Well it is what it is. And I'm sure it's not exactly a dump either. It's just not what Brooke Scott is used to."

"Hey. What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you've become accustomed to the Ritz and penthouse suites and Tribecca lofts and Greenwich mansions. Maybe this little beach house isn't so bad. Sure it's small but it's not like you have to live there forever. And it is right on the beach and you said yourself that you love that. Just suck it up and try to make the best out of it."

"Fine", Brooke pouted. "As if I have a choice."

"And as far as Lucas goes…well, he is going through a rather tough time. One minute he is healthy as a horse and one of the number one pro ball players in the country. The next, he's having a heart attack and being told that he can never play the sport again. On top of that, look at all the stuff that happened with his crazy like a fox father and you two are going through a divorce. I hate to play devil's advocate but cut the guy some slack. He probably feels horrible right about now and he needs encouragement and support. That is one of the reasons you decided to stay with him so start encouraging and supporting."

"But you saw his little retirement press conference. He thanked everybody but me and the guy that sweeps out our gutters."

"Don't take the snub so personal. Maybe he just…forgot."

"Yeah right."

"What? It happens…"

"Whatever, Pey."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"No."

"There you go. I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for it. But he's not a mind reader. Talk it out. I'm telling you, Brooke. You may not want to hear it but someone here has to take the high road or else it is going to be a very long and very miserable three months. Technically and legally you two are still married. Remember that little part about for better or worse?"

"Yeah and I also vaguely recall something about fidelity and honor as well."

"Brooke, don't go there. Drudging up old dirt and wounds from the past is not going to solve anything. You know what you have to do."

"Peyton Christine Sawyer soon to be Jagielski", Brooke whined.

"Be the bigger person, Brooke. He needs you. Make it a little easier on him and everybody."

Brooke dramatically huffed into the phone but she knew her friend was right. After hanging up, she scooped up her daughter and their belongings and headed back to the house. Putting Harmony in her swing, she took a deep breath before preparing to knock on Lucas's door. She was afraid of what might be on the other side. On the other side was a broken man. The doctor's words had hit Lucas like a square punch in the gut. Ever since finding out that Dan's condition was indeed genetic, those were the words he had never wanted to hear…not for himself or his brother. They were the invincible, dynamic and unstoppable Scott Brothers. As much as they had flirted with disaster, the reality of a career ending injury was something that happened to other athletes.

Brooke took a deep breath before entering the room. The door creaked open and she entered quietly, careful not to disturb him if he was napping due to the temporary medication prescribed just for pain. But he wasn't and no wonder drug for that matter would take away the new reality that was facing him. The words "never play ball again" repeated themselves over and over in his mind, a phrase he never thought he would and certainly never wanted to hear. He'd had dreams of retiring once he was on top and had truly accomplished every single goal he had set for himself in the NBA. He had wanted to enjoy more success and eventually after a few years play on the same team as his brother. He had wanted to do it for a few more years then retire and scout behind the scenes, never totally breaking away from the business he so loved. In that equation somehow, somewhere, Brooke had always been apart of that. He had pictured them married with lots of kids running around in a big country house in Tree Hill. Now all of it was gone. The entire dream was shattering before his very eyes.

"Hey you", she said. "Everything alright?"

"I'm fine", he mumbled, not looking at her.

"Look, I know you're upset and hurt and confused right now and I'm really sorry for all that Lucas. But you're gonna be okay. You're Lucas Scott and if anyone can get through this, then it's you."

"Brooke, look, I know you mean well and all and I really appreciate the thought but please. Don't patronize me."

"I'm not patronizing you. I just want to help. Let me…"

"Let you what Brooke? Huh? Kiss it and make it all better? Or better yet do you feel sorry enough for me to take me back and nurse me to health from my pathetic state?"

"That's not fair…"

"You're telling me. None of it's fair. Life's not fair. Losing you wasn't fair. Losing my career is not fair. Having the father from Hell isn't fair."

"Don't do this", she sighed. "I know you're hurt, I know you're angry. Luke, I don't care if we aren't together as a couple anymore. I love you and I'll always care about you. That's why I'm here. I will help you through anything."

"Brooke, please."

"I just want to help."

"I've been thinking maybe you and I here and the therapy and California…maybe none of it is a good idea. If you want to help, Brooke if you really want to help me, then you'll just quit feeling sorry for me, backoff and let me have my space."

"Fine", she said, pretending not to be hurt. "If that's the way you want it."

He nodded and she left him feeling sorry for himself until he eventually fell asleep. He slept for hours and it was well after midnight before he awakened. He eased out of bed and steadied himself. He looked over and the digital clock on the nightstand read 12:41 a.m. It seemed like the second his eyes had finally closed, he had been awakened by nature's call. He wasn't in pain but he felt weird. There was a strange pressure felt on his chest. Holding on to various pieces of furniture, he made his way to the bathroom with the speed of a 90 year old. He grunted as he felt his right leg weaken and all of a sudden there was nothing left to hang on to.

"Goddammitt!" he yelled as his leg gave out on him.

He hit the floor with a thud and cursed again as a stream of urine trickled down his leg.

"Lucas? You okay?" Brooke asked as she poked her head out of her bedroom.

"I'm fine. Brooke, don't come in here."

"I heard something hit the ground. Did you…"

She stopped as she saw him on the ground.

"God…Lucas, let me, let me help you."

"Just go away. I've got it."

But he didn't "have it". It was as if he couldn't get up.

"Luke…"

"No, Brooke!"

"What is going on?"

"I'm fine. My chest is a little tight that's all."

"Here. Pull up on my arms."

With a defeated grunt, Lucas had no choice. Once he was on his feet he held on to the wall as his wife grimaced with pain.

"Did I hurt your arms? You okay?"

"I'm fine. What about you? Is your chest okay? Do you want me to call a doctor?"

"I'm fine. I must have slipped on something. It was dark and everything. But anyway. I'll be okay. I'm just gonna clean this up. I'll be okay. Go on back to bed."

Brooke sighed and retreated back to her own room, watching with disdain from afar as she saw her husband struggle with the simplest of tasks. She knew in her heart that Luke's stubborn streak would never fully allow him to admit just how much help he really needed. For the first time she was glad she was there. He needed her. He would never admit it but he needed her. She bit her lip and decided she would be there for the long haul. No matter what.