Author- Emily-Grace Mendes (Brookebynature)

Disclaimer- I don't own the charactersor the show, only this story. But I'd like to own something like One Tree Hill, it might benefit my bank balance.

A/N- I'd like (and need) to say a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story. Hmm... I don't really like to advertise, but my other current story 'life is what you make it' hasn't been getting much feedback lately, and it's kinda at a crucial point, so maybe you guys could let me know what you think?...

Anyway, without any further ado...

Just Watch Her Move

Chapter 7- Can't Stop

For a whole two weeks, Lucas hadn't visited the bar. He hadn't spoken to Brooke, he hadn't so much as seen her. But he'd thought about her, and it was almost killing him not being able to go there.

Peyton had come home, and Lucas had realised that they had to try and save what they had, that they had to work hard, together, to keep their marriage alive. She'd nodded, told him that she agreed and that she was sorry. Lucas didn't tell her about Brooke.

But they had another argument. Lucas had been working late again, it was the only thing that managed to take his mind off Brooke for a little while. She'd stormed out, told him to go whatever the hell he wanted, because she didn't care anymore. Lucas knew she was just angry. So was he. But it didn't stop him heading to that bar once again.

"Scotch on the rocks" he didn't bother with a please, or even eye contact. He was looking for someone in particular, the brunette girl his heart was with, the one who had that captivating smile and the sparkling eyes. Brooke.

The drink was gone within a few seconds, his hand holding out the glass towards the barmaid who rolled her eyes at him and refilled his drink, shooting daggers at Lucas who now really didn't care.

His eyes scanned the dance floor, all of the podiums, the little seated area where they'd talked the other week. And he still couldn't see her.

"She's not here." Lucas heard Brandon's voice in his ear while he quickly whirled round to talk to him.

"Is she coming later?"

Brandon shook his head. "She's in hospital Lucas."

That was it, he left that glass on the shiny metal surface, accompanied by enough money to cover a whole bottle of scotch, let alone the two glasses he'd asked for.

His car didn't seem to go fast enough any more, not as fast as he needed to get to that hospital. Had it not been for the denying of his real feelings, Lucas knew he would have spent the past fortnight with Brooke, and he would have learned more about her. He'd have made sure of that.

"Which room is Brooke in?" Lucas shouted at the receptionist who looked both confused and angry.

"First of all Sir" She made sure the last word sounded as sarcastic as possible before continuing. "You have to sign a form before you can visit the patients. Second of all, a surname might help, there are a lot of Brooke's in the world."

"I don't know okay!" He was shouting now, his hands rubbing the back of his neck roughly. "I don't know her surname she never told me!"

His tone was attracting a lot of attention from other people sat in the reception, and was also angering the receptionist further.

"She had dark shiny hair, kind of red tint to it. Hazel eyes, dimples, raspy voice."

"Fill out the form."

His hand shook while trying to fill in his details as fast as he could, only coming to an abrupt halt when he reached the question 'relationship to patient'

He wondered what was best, to tell the truth and risk not being allowed in, or lie, risking being found out. Lucas chose the latter, and quickly filled in 'boyfriend.'

"Here" He handed the form over, with the black biro while waiting for the receptionist to tell him the room number. His foot was tapping on the floor nervously, his hands wringing together while she looked at the computer screen.

"How old is this Brooke?"

Lucas shrugged "I don't know, about my age."

"Mr Scott I am not a mind reader, how old are you?"

"25"

"We have a Brooke Davis also age 25 in room 113"

He was pressing the elevator button before she'd finished talking, the room number ringing in his ears. Lucas had no idea what had suddenly happened for her to be taken into hospital, but he knew it couldn't be good. He wasn't stupid, it had to be to do with the cancer. A couple months at the most. That was all he had left with her.

Sure enough, she was in the room, he could see through the door, but she was accompanied by too many machines. Too many wires covering her body, her hazel eyes shutting the world out.

"Brooke"

They opened, slowly, but she looked at him, managing a small smile.

"You just can't keep away can ya?"

He tried his best to smile back, but looking at her obviously in pain got to him. It was too much.

"I'm sorry about last week."

She waved it away, shrugged her shoulders just like always. "You don't have to be sorry, I mean, you are married."

He stared at the floor, hands deep in his pockets. "Yeah"

"Brandon told you huh?"

"I'm kinda surprised."

"I made him promise he would."

"That guy doesn't seem to like me so much."

Brooke let out a little giggle. "He says he's never seen a guy look so miserable one minute, and like he's about to orgasm the next"

"It's a good job the doctor's not in here." Lucas chuckled lightly, seating himself in the chair by her bed.

"Well we could always have a threesome."

"Perhaps when you're better."

She went quiet, looked down at the covers, mumbled. "Yeah maybe."

"You're not going to get better are you?" He asked, hoping she'd tell him he was wrong, and that of course she was going to get better because she needed to go back to the bar, to dance again, make margaritas.

Another shrug. "They don't know."

It was silent for a while, neither of them able to know quite what to say to make the other feel better.

"Where are my flowers?"

"What?"

"You're supposed to bring me flowers, I'm unwell remember?"

Lucas stared at her, watching the corners of her mouth twitch, trying her best to no laugh.

"Stay here."

"I'm hardly going to make a run for it right now."

"Good point."

He came back, a half hour later with the most ridiculous bunch of flowers she'd ever seen. It had every single colour, all tied together with a yellow ribbon.

"Now that's what you call a bunch of flowers."

"I like to do things properly." Lucas chuckled. "And you'd better like them because they cost me an ungodly amount of money." He said the last part like it pained him, like it physically hurt him to hand over the money to the cashier.

"You have the money."

"How do you know?"

"You have a Mercedes."

Lucas shrugged. "Well it's like you said."

Brooke raised her eyebrows, a little smirk on her face as she waited for him to continue.

"Who doesn't?"

"Where have you been?"

He'd hardly closed the door before she met him in the hallway, dressing gown covering her body, which he'd never noticed before, was too thin.

"And don't say the office, because I called your secretary."

"I…"

She cut him off before he could explain. "Unless you were screwing her at the time, and that's what she told me so you could continue."

"How many times to I have to tell you I'm not having sex with her?"

"And how many times do you have to keep me waiting up for you?"

"I never asked you to Peyton!" His voice was filled with more anger now than it had ever been, mostly fuelled by the fact that Brooke was in hospital, and that she was more sick than she was making out to be.

"So you want me to not give a crap any more?"

"You were the one who told me you didn't care."

"I was mad at you!"

"When are you not mad at me?"

"Where have you been Lucas?" She lowered her tone now, until she was almost whispering, until he could barely hear her. But she knew he could.

"Visiting a friend."

"Where?"

"In hospital okay! She's sick, she has cancer. The doctors said she has a couple months left at best. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now you know the truth?"

"I didn't know…."

"That's exactly it Peyton! You just always assume things, things that aren't always true."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too, because you know what? I can't do this anymore. I can't come home and fight with you every night, I don't want to."

"I don't want to fight with you either. I'm sorry."

"I want a divorce Peyton."

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