A/N: I'm sorry, this chapter is overly dramatic. I felt it necessary for the building of the characters in my universe. Let me know what you think, and thanks in advance for reading.

Brooke stood at her locker, gathering her things before leaving for the day. Her mind was a whirlwind and she couldn't seem to shake herself out of her fog. Cheerleading practice had gone well, despite the fact that Peyton still refused to look at her. But if Brooke noticed correctly, and she always did, Peyton had refused to make eye contact with Lucas too. She didn't know why, or if it meant anything at all, but she was admittedly petty, and she would take what she could get.

She smiled to herself, thinking of her previous exchange with her P. Sawyer. She thought of the drawing, the beautiful sketch that proved she was still imprinted on Peyton's mind. It meant everything to Brooke, more than she realised.

Brooke was ripped out of her daze when she heard her name being called from down the hall, anger exuding the tone.

Lucas looked disheveled and out of sorts, a gleam in his eye told her that this wasn't going to go well. She had seen him angry many times before, but none compared to the pure hatred that was currently being sent her way. Now she really wondered what had happened with Peyton.

"Hey, Luke. How's it hangin'?" she said casually, testing his demeanor as he approached.

"Don't talk to me like we're cool, because you know we're not," he spat, stepping forward.

"I thought that was your fault," she scoffed quietly, feeling the heat physically emanating from him.

"What are you trying to pull?" he asked, voice rising. "Why can't you just stay out of my life? You always have to go and fuck it up." Each word became louder and gravellier the closer he got.

"I haven't even spoken to you since I found out you were messing with Peyton behind my back," Brooke reasoned. "Doesn't get much more 'out of your life' than that."

"I knew you were stupid, Brooke, but god, are you really THAT fucking dumb?!" he yelled now, and Brooke's face dropped. "You want it all, right? Every guy to fuck you. Every girl… who knows what you want from them. You're such a whore you probably want them too, at least to try to feel better about yourself."

"What are you talking about?" Brooke choked out, unable to hide the pain in her eyes.

"You always have to get under Peyton's skin. How dare you even talk to her?! Every time you look at her, she pulls away from me. But you probably know that, don't you? Why else would you try so damn hard," he snarled, completely filling the space around her.

"Do you really think that everything's about you?" Brooke dared to ask. "I MISS her, Luke. I never chose to lose her," she said quietly, feeling her tears build.

"Just stay away from her! Don't look at her. Don't talk to her. Got it?" he threatened, grabbing her arm way too hard as he backed her into the locker. She yelped despite herself.

"No," she said soundly, pulling her arm away from him regardless of the pain it caused.

"What?!" he yelled, pushing her hard by the shoulders, her back hitting the lockers.

She laughed in his face.

"No," she smiled, though the fear she felt was unwavering. "If she doesn't want to be around me, I'll respect that. But I'll never stop trying for YOU. I'll get her back, Lucas. She still loves me."

"No!" he screamed, pushing her harder this time, the sound of metal echoing through the empty hallway.

Brooke tried to keep on a strong face, despite the pain the shove had caused.

"She hates you, Brooke! You're a fucking whore and she knows she's better off without you! You're a fucking idiot!"

One final shove, the latch of a locker catching Brooke between the ribs and causing her tears to flow. Lucas stood over her cowering body, ready to push her again now that he had finally gotten a reaction.

"HEY!" Peyton shouted from the end of the hallway, rushing to the scene in front of her. She had only been there long enough to witness the last shove, the last insult, but that was certainly long enough.

When Peyton reached them, Brooke was huddled against the lockers with tears streaming down her pale face. That was all that she could see. In a second, she was at the girl's side on the floor, enveloping her as she felt tears stinging her own eyes.

"Shh… shh, it's okay…" Peyton soothed, brushing the tears from Brooke's cheeks.

"Peyton…" Lucas said softly, panic-stricken, a different man now that he had been caught—by Peyton.

"Fuck you!" Peyton screamed, causing Brooke to jump and tremble.

Lucas reached out to her, desperate to somehow explain it all away.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed, pointing at him with one hand while the other clutched Brooke. "Get away from us! We are DONE, Lucas. Do you understand that? Not for this week, or this month! Forever!" she shouted, pulling Brooke carefully to her feet as Lucas retracted.

"No, Peyton, I was just—"

"No, Lucas! You're the idiot. If you ever so much as look at her again, I'll kill you," Peyton said, her voice lowering but holding a seriousness that frightened him.

He began to walk away, feeling guilty and heartbroken as his heart pounded in his chest, but stopped at the sound of Peyton's voice.

"Wait."

He turned to look at her, unsure what to expect, but stupidly hopeful.

"Apologise," she demanded, still holding Brooke to her.

"What?" he scoffed, surprised by the request.

"I said, apologise to her," she reiterated, her tone reminding him that she knew he was as stupid as he felt.

Lucas looked to the ground sheepishly, anxiety taking over him as he replayed the scenario and wondered if any of this was really happening, what had overcome him.

"I—" he began awkwardly, "I'm sorry, Brooke."

Tears still ran down Brooke's face no matter how hard she had tried to will them away, a mixture of fear from the situation and the physical pain that still stung her back and ribs. Peyton held her arm securely around Brooke's waist, holding her up and comforting her at once.

Brooke didn't want to tell him that it was okay. She didn't even want to look at him. She nodded silently.

"Let's go, Brooke," Peyton urged quietly, guiding Brooke down the hall as Lucas retreated in the opposite direction.

As they walked, Peyton unknowingly bumped a particularly painful spot on Brooke's back, causing the girl to wince and cease her breath.

"Let me see," Peyton whispered, stopping and moving behind Brooke, ready to lift her shirt to see the extent of the damage.

"Not here!" Brooke snapped, holding her shirt down and looking around the secluded hallway self-consciously.

"Okay," Peyton nodded, seeing the seriousness and lingering fear in Brooke's eyes.

Peyton nuzzled Brooke's temple softly, guiding her out of the school and hopefully away from the fear that she felt. Nothing would ever take that memory away from her. And Peyton knew subconsciously that things were about to change, forever.