Author's Note: Sorry for the brief and unexpected hiatus but the story is back up and running. I atually hada chance to hang out in Wilmington again with some people I've met there as well as Lindsay flew out and we got the chance to party. Expect more cast and location shots (not too many) to be added to my photo album by week's end although one I had to make a promise not to post one for a few weeks because it is considered "spoilerish", which I still don't get but I promised. Anyway, it's just a couple photos and I will share them with you guys as soon as I get them developed and transferred to CD. In the meantime, thanks for your patience and all the e-mails...

"Deb, this is so cool", Brooke squealed with delight.

Deb smiled in agreement as the two women eyed tile and paint samples.

"I can't wait, hon. I've always dreamed of having a kitchen like this."

"Oh it's going to be absolutely fabulous! I just know it! At first I thought it's be too many colors with the red and the blue but now I think it's totally gonna look hot! Deb, you are a genius! And you know what? I can't wait to help paint."

"Have you ever painted before, Brooke?" Deb asked with a grin.

"Besides my nails? Uh, no. But I am willing to learn."

The women continued over the plans for remodeling the kitchen when the bell by the front door rang. Deb excused herself and ran to answer it. On the other side was a nervous looking but pretty young blonde.

"Hi. Can I help you, dear?"

The younger woman removed her sunglasses.

"Yeah. Um, hello. I, I'm here to see Brooke Davis. Is she in?"

Deb smiled. What a pleasant surprise. Brooke didn't received too many visitors.

"She sure is. Come in, honey and have a seat. I'll go get her for you."

Peyton walked into the modest home. The older blonde she assumed was Deb Lee, had seemed nice and welcoming enough. Peyton watched as she disappeared into the back of the house.

"Hey Deb, I was looking at this new table and chair set and it would be perfect with the red…"

"It is nice", Deb quickly glanced down. "Oh, Brooke, you have company."

"Me?"

"Yeah, a girl. I'm sorry I didn't get her name but she's waiting out front."

Brooke shrugged as she had no idea who it could be and she certainly hadn't been expecting anyone. She walked towards the kitchen looking at the thin blonde whose back was turned to her. Even from behind there was something oddly familiar.

"Hello?" Brooke called out.

The other woman turned around slowly. Their eyes locked and both lost their breath.

"Brooke…"

"Oh my God", Brooke grabbed on to a nearby chair for support.

"It's you. It…it really is you…"

Peyton was trembling, literally on the verge of tears.

"Peyton…" Brooke started towards her.

Peyton defensively held her hands up.

"Dude, wait. Just give me a minute, alright? I seriously don't know whether to hug you or slap you right now."

A tear slid down Brooke's cheek.

"You cut your hair", she observed.

"Yeah."

"And it's straightened too. I like that."

Peyton only nodded. The moment was still quite surreal and the last thing she wanted was a casual chat about her latest hairstyle.

"Is that all you have to say?" the blonde tried to choose her words carefully.

Brooke didn't know what to say. She had been completely taken off guard. It was a reunion she had dreamed about yet as more time passed, one she had come to fear and even dread.

"Long time no see, huh?"

Peyton rolled her eyes.

"That's not funny."

"I know", Brooke sat down and motioned for Peyton to do the same. "Sorry. I don't know what else to say."

"Did I surprise you?"

"Yes. Um, how…how in the world did you find me here?"

Peyton couldn't help but laugh, despite the circumstances of the situation.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Brooke, I cannot believe you just asked me that question. Besides, does it even matter?"

"I guess not. That was a stupid question."

"Well, Davis, I have a few 'stupid' questions of my own, starting with, what the hell happened to you in September? You have dinner with your friends and then you just drop off the face of the freaking Earth never to be heard from again."

Brooke took a deep breath.

"Look…"

"Were you kidnapped? Please tell me the truth. Did someone hold a gun to your head or force you to do something against your will at knifepoint?"

"No", Brooke solemnly shook her head.

"Okay. Obviously you don't have amnesia so is it safe to rule out alien abduction?"

"Peyton, I left on my own", she blurted out.

Peyton looked away. It was the obvious answer but still so hard to hear.

"So…how long did you plan it?"

"I didn't plan it. I mean, I did but not in the way you think. I had thought about it for a long time but I never thought I'd actually do it."

"What the hell happened?"

"After dinner the cab took me home. I went inside and everything was fine and normal and suddenly something inside of me just snapped. I can't explain it. I started packing some clothes and I had a little bit of cash on me so I just took off. I got on a bus and kept riding and riding until somehow I ended up here."

"So you're saying you left on your own but you didn't maliciously intend to run away?"

"Well…yeah."

Peyton shook her head.

"Bullshit. I don't buy it. Brooke, you obviously tried to cover your tracks and you did a good job for a while. Cash only…not credit card or check trail. And your place was left a mess. There was stuff everywhere and you left the water running in the bathroom and the front door was wide open."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if you wanted to create the illusion that you had been kidnapped or something really horrible happened to you, then you did a damned good job of it."

Brooke shrugged.

"Look, I don't even remember. I just knew I had to go."

"Fine. I get that, Brooke. Whatever was going on, sometimes we all need a break with life but why didn't you call? Why didn't you write or e-mail or something just to let us know that you were alive and okay?"

"I…I don't know."

"No, Brooke. No! That isn't good enough. Not this time. Because while you were starting anew in Mayberry, there was a massive manhunt out looking for you. Local cops, detectives, FBI agents, psychics, helicopters, police dogs, the media…you name it and they were there trying to find you! Your poor parents were distraught on TV begging people to help find you. Complete strangers put up money out of their own pockets for a reward for your safe return. Your friends spent hours putting up missing flyers. I put my entire life on hold for you, Brooke. I was terrified! I thought you were dead. What about that? Does any of that mean anything to you?"

"Of course it does. Look, Pey, I had no idea. I'm sorry…"

"Sorry? That still isn't good enough. And it's really pissing me off. I see your crocodile tears but other than that, I'm looking at some stranger who used to be my best friend. It's like you have no concept of what you've put everyone through. God, Brooke, I don't even know you anymore. How do you just change overnight? What about your family and your friends and the life you just left behind? What are you doing, seeing the same lombotimist as Katie Holmes?"

Brooke stood up.

"You don't understand! I couldn't take it anymore, Peyton. I needed to do something else. I needed to be something else. All those feelings of loneliness and depression and restlessness and even unhappiness had been brewing for a long time and one night, something inside me just happened. I can't explain it. I had to go. It might sound unbelievable or stupid or overly dramatic but if I hadn't left at that very moment, I would have died."

Peyton shook her head.

"We're best friends, Brooke. Through thick and thin we've always been there for each other. We tell each other everything. Why didn't you just come to me?"

Brooke wiped away tears.

"I did. I tried. So many times, Peyton, but you stopped listening."

"What are you talking about?"

"You were always so different. You never fit in at the country clubs or all those high society parties. You were a rebel, like a female James Dean or something. I always admired that. I wished I could be like that. You had your art and your music and you didn't give a shit about anything else. Remember all those nights we'd sit up and talk? Remember all our big plans? We were gonna get away, Peyton. We'd run away and start all over. We'd pick some random place on the map and go and change our lives. We didn't want to be the spoiled rich girls or the shallow shopaholics anymore. Our lives were supposed to mean something. We were better than that. We were going to make a difference. What happened to that?"

"Don't turn this around on me. What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with everything! I trusted you. We made the pact to help get each other out and one day you just stopped believing. You stopped dreaming. You left me, Pey. You got comfortable. Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer, the rebel became the conformist. I just couldn't do it anymore. That night at dinner I went to the restroom and when I came back I passed this table. There was this family…a mom, a dad, this girl around our age and her fiancé. And I overheard them talking about wedding plans. There was going to be an ice sculpture and an orchestra with doves…I mean, these people were going all out. You could tell it was going to headline all the society pages. Her parents were as proud as peacocks and the fiancé was the typical, smug, handsome real life Prince Charming. It was perfect. But I saw the look on that girl's face…the pressure to be perfect and lead this perfect, proper little socialite life…this vicious, neverending cycle of perfection. I looked into her eyes and I saw fear and I saw misery. She looked right at me, Pey. At that one moment, we were the same people. A whole lifetime of being polite and pretty, debutante balls and beauty pageants, polo matches and country clubs, giving good face and trying to live up to some family name and reputation. I knew I wasn't happy. I knew I wanted to change. I'd been planning it forever but it was nothing more than just talk. I got tired of being a 'sayer' and a 'thinker' instead of a 'doer'. That girl couldn't get away but I could. It sounds retarded but maybe I could do it for the both of us. I looked into her eyes and I took responsibility, probably for the first time in my life. But I had to and I had to do it then because if not, I'd just keep repeating the cycle and keep going through the motions."

"You still should have called."

"I know but I was drowning, Pey."

"No, you were being selfish. Give me a little credit. I get why you did it and I don't fault you for it. Hell, a tiny part of me is almost happy for you but that was such a shitty way to handle things after the fact. You just moved on like it was nothing. You erased one Brooke and just created another. You have this new life and this new identity, new friends, even a new boyfriend, I hear. Well, bully for you but what about the rest of us you left behind? We didn't deserve this, Brooke."

"I'm sorry, Peyton", Brooke cried out. "I'm so sorry for hurting you guys and making you worry. I know I should have called and I wanted to, believe me, so many times…"

"But you didn't."

"No, I didn't", she said softly.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. Because I couldn't. Because I was scared. Because I didn't know what you guys would say or think. And the more time passed, the harder it became."

"Not just for you, Brooke."

"I'm a terrible person for not checking in and leaving everyone to think the worst. I can admit that and I can apologize for it but that's it. I may regret how I left but I don't regret leaving. In fact, I don't regret anything else. I had to do this for me."

"You have some nerve…"

"Look, I needed time to figure some stuff out. I will talk to everyone. I'll call my parents and try to explain and…"

"It's not that simple. The damage is done, Brooke. There are no easy fixes for this one. It's too late. And you know what really burns me up? All this talk and you've failed to mention a very important person. Remember Killian? Killian Morris? You know, the rich as hell hottie who loves you to death and put that four carat rock on your finger? What about him?"

She closed her eyes.

"I don't know", Brooke whispered.

Peyton bit her lip.

"And the guy you've been seeing here?"

Brooke shrugged again.

"He doesn't know about any of this. I don't talk about the past. He doesn't know about my background or anything."

"Including Killian?"

Brooke hung her head.

"Including Killian."

"What's his name, Brooke?"

"Lucas. Lucas Scott."

"Are you in love with this guy?"

"Very much", Brooke whispered.

"This is pointless. I don't believe you. You're talking in circles and it's just pissing me off more and more. Maybe I was better off thinking you were in a ditch somewhere. At least then, I could have held on to the good memories."

It was hard to hear Peyton tell her it almost would have been better for everyone if she had been dead. Brooke knew her best friend was hurting. She did love Peyton…she had never stopped. She tearfully reached out to hug her but Peyton flinched and pulled away.

"I am so sorry…"

"Don't. Brooke, your excuses and apologies are weak and tired and so are you. I'm done, dude. I don't even know you. And I hope you have something better to say to your family and your other friends. And I also hope you know what you're going to say to Killian."

"Killian?"

"He knows where you are, Brooke. He knows everything. How do you think I found you? He hired a private investigator to tail you. Look, it's just a matter of time. You know he will come for you and when he does, the man is going to want real answers and you're gonna have to make some tough decisions. Killian loves you, Brooke. He really loves you and he's been through so much while you were gone. It's not about money or status or material things. It took nothing but heart for him to continue the search no matter what he might have found. The question is now, do you have the heart to face him?"