Soon Enough
A/N: I'm baaaaaccccccccck. So soon, right? And with my longest UD yet. Yay!!! Special thanks to Lynn, my love, who helped me out a lot with this chapter, and Chey, who gave me the abbreviation to Penthouse :)
VERY IMPORTANT:So, being the spastic child I am, I have been inconsistent. In chapter 6, I stated that Brooke got pregnant at Rachel's cabin, found out the night before the wedding, and lost the baby after she broke up with Lucas. FORGET ALL THAT. The timeline of the last chapter was correct, so go by that. (Brooke losing the baby the night before the wedding). My head was clearly somewhere else. And Brooke was about 8 weeks along when she miscarried. She still got pregnant at Rachel's cabin, which leaves about 8 weeks between then and the finale, but whatever. We know how messed up the OTH timeline is anyway.
So yes, peace. I'll stop rambling. Enjoy the update.
Chapter 8
Storm in a Teacup
It's weird what telling the truth does to you. When a weight that's been on your chest for 5 years gets lifted, and you can finally breathe again. For a minute, the world seems so clear, so focused.
And then the guilt comes.
The problem with Brooke is, she doesn't like to admit she's wrong. So after she tells Lucas, and he yells at her for about an hour for not telling him sooner, like, say, 5 years ago, she fights back. Because she thinks the truth would have hurt him more.
The problem with Lucas is, he doesn't like to admit she's right. So after he realizes that she's right, he was better off not knowing, he's kind-of at a loss for what to say to her, and just sits there in the dark, staring at her.
When he finally gets up and retreats to the brightly lit house, he doesn't care when he sees Peyton has been standing there the whole time, motionless. In a way, this all makes sense to her now.
The problem with Peyton is, she doesn't know why she hadn't figured it out sooner.
"Why now, Peyton, why would you tell me you have feelings for Lucas now, when I have so much going on right now, stuff that you don't even know about."
Now Brooke is back in New York, back in her luxurious office that looks over the Hudson River at West 57th Street. Back in her designer dresses and uncomfortable heels. Back at the boring events with the annoying paparazzi sticking cameras in her face.
Haley calls her on Monday morning, the day after Brooke returns home.
"He won't talk to me about it. All he does is sit around the house all day and mope. He missed a deadline last night."
Brooke sighs into the phone, pressing it farther into her cheek as she scribbles down a reminder to herself on a post-it. "I can't exactly do anything about it, Hales. I'm 1000 miles away."
"Well you can't just drop the bomb and abandon dealing with the repercussions." Brooke hears her friends exasperated sigh over the line.
The brunette softens. "I know, she says, pressing a hand to her temple and closing her eyes. "I just – I need a little time to clear my head. I'm not gone for good."
"Good." Haley pauses. "You should probably get in touch with Peyton at some point."
Brooke wedges the phone between her shoulder and ear, and flourishes her hand across her keyboard. She vaguely remembers a missed call on her cell phone from the curly blonde, and a couple of casual emails in her inbox, but she hadn't gotten around to replying. "Yeah, I think she's been trying to get a hold of me. Why, is it important?"
"Um, I'm not sure."
Brooke sighs. "Wow Haley, it's been four years and you're still not any better at lying. What aren't you telling me?"
A beat. And then: "That night – when Lucas overheard everything, Peyton, um, kind-of did too."
Brooke sits up a little straighter in her chair. "What? How is that possible?"
She can imagine Haley shrugging over the line. "I think she was standing in the doorway, and like, tried to follow Lucas and confront him as he left. But she was gone by the time you came back inside."
"Fuck," Brooke mutters. "Guess I left a pretty sticky mess behind."
"You think?" Haley laughs a little. "Anyway, are you still going through with buying Karen't Café?"
"Yep." Brooke shuffles through a pile of papers, pulling out a manila envelope. "Her lawyer faxed me the papers today."
"So does this mean we'll be seeing more of you?" asks Haley hopefully.
"I hope so. I've hardly been back a day and already my mom is driving me crazy."
"Good, cause Brooke, we really need you here."
Brooke swallows and nods.
---------------
He's sitting at a bench by the Rivercourt, moodily tossing rocks into the river, when she shows up.
"So why don't you think she ever told us?" Peyton sits gingerly down on the bench next to him.
He glances briefly over to her. "Well, she was pissed as hell at you," he says, laughing bitterly as he kicked the dirt.
"It all kind-of makes sense now, doesn't it? That whole situation."
"Not really," he says flatly. "I don't understand why she would fight so hard to push away the people she loved in her life when she was going through that much."
Peyton shrugs. "I think it was hard for her. She was really confused."
Lucas abandons the rock he's holding, brushing off his hands on his jeans. He doesn't really know what else to do, so he just sits there, staring at the ground.
"Look, Luke, I get that you need time" she continues, looking out across the river.
"I don't need time. Time isn't what I need. I need to understand why she would do this."
There is a short silence before Peyton speaks again. "I wasn't talking about Brooke. I was talking about us."
He looks up at her – surprised she's bringing up their relationship, so out of the blue. "You're really angry and upset right now," she says bluntly. "Which I get, yeah. So I'm gonna' give you some space. I'm gonna' go back to L.A." She pauses and then keeps going when he doesn't respond. "But, I'm always here for you, you know that, right? And when you're ready again, I will be too."
She stands, giving him one last glance, before walking away. He doesn't even watch her go, but as her car starts up and rolls out into the street, he has to wonder why she's bringing this all up now.
---------------
When Brooke walks into her bedroom later that night, she is less than surprised to find a familiar redhead sprawled across the sheets in a dramatic way.
"Hi," huffs Rachel, her voice muffled by the pillow.
"Well, well, well." Brooke kicks off her heels and flops down on the bed next to her friend. "Look who finally came back."
The redhead groans. "Maine sucks."
Brooke laughs. "What, got sick of Rick and his fancy estate?"
"Oh no, Rick was fine. We had a great time – until his wife showed up."
Brooke cringes. "Ouch. What a bastard."
"Yeah, he probably deserves the permanent head damage we both inflicted upon him." She sits up. "So what have you been up to?"
Brooke hesitates, teetering on the edge of telling Rachel where she had been exactly for the past week. But then she would have to rehash the story, the whole story, and soon she would be crying again, and she didn't have any tissues.
So she keeps her mouth shut. "Nothing really – just work."
Rachel rolls her eyes. "All you do is work. You seriously need to get laid."
Brooke laughs, hitting Rachel with a pillow.
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Lucas on Delta Airlines' website when Nathan barges in.
"Heard of knocking?"
"Heard of it? Yes. Enjoy participating in the act of it? No, not really."
Lucas rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the computer screen.
Nathan grabs a banana from the fruit bowl and flops down into an armchair. "Haley sent me over here because, according to her, you are acting 'emotionally unavailable and unstable, and will most likely only open up to whomever he feels closest to," which is apparently me."
Lucas only half listens to Nathan. The majority of him is staring intently at his computer screen. Nathan stands and snaps his fingers in front of his brothers face. "Hello? Earth to Luke? What, are you looking at porn or something?"
"I'm trying to find airline tickets that don't cost like 5 zillion dollars," he says, ignoring Nathan's snide comment.
"Where are you going?" asks Nathan, walking around the counter to peer over Lucas' shoulder. "New York?" He pauses and puts a finger to his chin. "Now who do we know that lives in New York?" he asks, mocking wonder.
"Shut up," Lucas grumbles. "I just need to talk to her."
"Why don't you call her? It's cheaper."
Lucas sighs. "I've tried. Every time she answers, I hang up. I'm like a love struck stalker teenager. It's just – " he pauses. "I don't know what to say. I mean, how could she keep something like that from me? I figure that if I see her, somehow I'll know what to say."
Nathan shrugs. "If there's one thing you and Brooke have in common – it's your instincts. I mean, you both know what you want, and you go for it. The only time I've really seen Brooke shut herself off was with you. And it's happening again. Why do you think she went back to New York? It's just like when left for California junior year, or when you guys started that fucked up non-exclusive dating thing, or when she ended things between you two. She's too scared to let you in."
Lucas nods. Everything Nathan just said made total sense. In a way, Brooke knows who she is – she gets what she fights for. But he can see a part of her that is completely lost – and confused as to what she's looking for.
"So are you telling me not to go to New York?" Lucas asks, as he scrolls down the page of plane tickets.
Nathan shrugs. "I don't know. Haley's much better at giving advice than I am.
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In the end, he decides to go. So that's how he ends up in the very last row of a Continental commercial plane, squished between an overweight business man playing Tetris on his computer, and a single mom with a crying baby.
When they finally touch down, after circling Newark airport for an hour, Lucas smells of baby vomit and B.O. Right now, he wants nothing more than to take a shower and collapse into the stiff sheets of a hotel room bed.
He takes a cab into the city, and they stop in front of a Hilton on West 36th. After his suitcases into the generic hotel room, he stands under the hot shower for 5 minutes, and then falls across the bedspread and shuts his eyes.
When he wakes up, and looks at the digital clock, which reads 6:57, he realizes he's slept for 4 hours. With a groan he untangles himself from the bed, and stands in the darkened hotel room. Moving to his suitcase, he pulls on a pair of jeans and a navy blue t-shirt.
When he gets in the cab, the driver speaks up in a rough voice.
"Where to?"
Lucas panics for a minute – wondering if he remembered Brooke's address. And then it comes spilling out without him realizing it. It's still emblazoned in his mind from the night he had her up against the brick façade of the building, so close to kissing her.
They get stuck in traffic around Times Square and the driver mutters something about a fashion event or something in Bryant Park. He turns on 3rd avenue and the traffic thins out – the loud honking and beeping of angry drivers replaced by the beat of the Pakistani music floating from the radio.
The neighborhood starts to look familiar, and Lucas stomach churns as they pull up in front of a building which looks all to familiar. He hands a wad of bills to the driver, and, hand shaking, pushes open the door of the cab.
He steps into the lobby and shuffles across the marble floor. The doorman looks up at him with little interest.
"Name?" he says in a boring voice.
"Uh, Lucas Scott. I'm here to see Brooke Davis."
The doorman looks mildly surprised, and suspicious at the same time. "I believe she's out for the evening. But I can call up and see if her roommate is home."
"Great, thanks." Lucas hesitates on telling the doorman, that it's fine, he'll wait in the lobby. But the doorman is already on the phone.
"Ms Gattina?" Lucas is surprised to hear Rachel's last name (he didn't know she and Brooke were still close), but breathes a sigh of relief that it wouldn't be some random stranger that he would have to make small talk with. "A Lucas Scott is here to see Ms. Davis." The doorman listens for a minute, before replacing the reciever. He looks up at Lucas. "Elevator 1. Penthouse."
But Lucas doesn't need to hear the floor number. He still remembers.
He steps into the elevator and presses PH. The doors slide closed, and the elevator begins its upward climb. When the doors open, he's met by a very familiar redhead, standing in the foyer with her arms crossed and an amused grin on her face.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the famous Lucas Scott."
Lucas laughs and pulls Rachel into a hug. She graciously hugs back, and leads him into the living room.
"Make yourself at home." He sits down in a comfortable armchair and she steps past him, settling herself cross legged on the couch. She's wearing jeans and a concert t-shirt, and a half eaten cookie sits on top of Cosmopolitan magazine on the coffee table.
The conversation is pleasant – Rachel certainly hasn't lost her sharp wit. He tells him about the book he's working on, and he finds out that she's working as general manager for Clothes Over Bros.
"So, what brings you to our humble abode, Luke? I couldn't imagine it would have anything to do with a certain Brooke Davis, now would it?"
Lucas feels his face go slightly red, though he doesn't know why. "Yeah, uh, actually, we need to talk."
"Did you guys have sex?" Rachel asks, the corners of her lips twitching.
"What? No!" Lucas laughs. "It's just, we kind-of got in a fight when she came down to Tree Hill, and I wanted to talk to her."
Rachel looks confused. "She went to Tree Hill? She never told me? When?"
"Uhh, I think she got home like two days ago."
"Ah, so when I was in Maine. I guess the whole 'best friends tell each other everything' went by the wayside."
Lucas laughs. "So where is she, anyway?"
Rachel rolls her eyes. "Lydia made her go to a party for some new up and coming designer. I swear to god, sometimes it feels like Brooke's just a puppet and her moms the ventriloquist."
Lucas shakes his head. "It's Brooke's company," he said, remember how she had complained about her mother's overbearing personality.
"Tell that to Lydia," Rachel scoffs. At that moment, he phone buzzes on the table. She picks it up, glancing at the screen. "It's Rick."
"Boyfriend?" Lucas questions.
"One of them," she says with a smirk. "Booty call." She stands, slipping on her flip-flops that lie next to the couch. "Do you mind waiting here for Brooke?"
Lucas assures her that it's fine. As she's leaving, she says, "I think theres a Rangers game on. And, uh, the adult channels are –"
"I'm FINE," Lucas says, before she disappears into the elevator with a smirk.
Now he's alone in Brooke's apartment, and it's kind-of eerie in a way. He feels a little bit like he's trespassing. But, being the nosy Scott he is, he decides to look around.
He opens the fridge first. It's filled to the brim with an assortment of stuff. There's mixed greens, vegetables, pork chops, chicken, cheese, diet coke, beer, orange juice, cream cheese, ketchup. The freezer holds about 8 different pints of Ben and Jerry's ice cream, which he regards with a chuckle.
He pads down the hallway and opens the door, which he remembers is Brooke's bedroom. He sees her walk in closet, and notes that her bedspread has changed since the last time he was in her. He wonders if it's weird if he remembers this much, before shaking off the thought, which is replaced with a nagging feeling of guilt that he's being so nosy.
He goes into her bathroom and opens the cupboard. Band-Aids, make-up, face wash, lotion, tampons, hair ties, a toothbrush. Nothing too exciting.
The pictures that line her shelves feature Brooke and Rachel, one of Karen and Lily, a few random people Lucas doesn't know, one of Brooke and Peyton, a couple of Brooke and Haley, one of Brooke and Nathan. The last picture on the shelf has a silver frame around it, and this is the picture that Lucas really looks at.
It's Brooke and Lucas with their godchild on his first birthday. Brooke has James propped up on one knee, and the small boy is laughing at the top of his lungs. Brooke is making a face at Lucas who's standing next to her, laughing hysterically as well.
Lucas smiles as he remembers that day. It had been the last time he had seen Brooke before the night of their fake engagement. She had just moved to New York after living with Peyton in L.A for a year and was stopping in Tree Hill for James' birthday.
The afternoon had been enjoyable and Lucas had felt only slightly guilty for not missing Peyton.
And even though he was still with Peyton at the time, a part of him had been glad that it was Brooke who had come to Tree Hill.
He replaces the picture on the shelf and looks around the room once more. He moves to the bedside table, and opens the top drawer.
Inside is a cream colored envelope with Lucas Scott written on the front in Brooke's loopy scrawl.
Heart beating wildly, Lucas opens the letter. A thin photograph slips out. He recognizes almost instantly what it is, thought it only seems to be a bunch of scratchy black lines and blobs. He turns the photo around once more. Again, in Brooke's handwriting, 2/27/07. 8 weeks along.
He realizes that she's held on to this ultrasound for 4 years, and his heart nearly breaks when he thinks of her going through all of that alone.
And then he reads the letter.
Dear Lucas,
I know how angry and upset with me you must be. You're right – I should have told you at the time. You deserved to know.
That pregnancy came at the worst possible time for me – and for you. I was already trying to keep our relationship afloat, because I saw both of us sinking, and I was trying to fight so hard for us.
I know you think that I never fought for you, Luke. But I did. I fought for you everyday. I fought for you after what happened with Chris, I fought for you when Keith died, I fought for you even when it seemed like you weren't fighting for me.
I found out I was pregnant about 3 days after you went to go visit colleges with your mom. When I went to the first doctor's appointment, it was the day you came home. I was back later that night, only then I was finding out that I had miscarried.
Then everything came falling down. I didn't know how to tell you – and I didn't know how to fight for you. But I didn't push you away. I let you go, hoping, wishing that you would have something more to say than, "I'm sorry."
But you didn't. It didn't feel like you were fighting for me anymore.
It seems kind-of trivial telling you this now, four years later. But I think that you should know one more thing Lucas. I know you think that I stopped loving you. But I didn't.
Brooke
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Her night can't possibly get any worse. After a perfectly miserable evening with her whore of a mother, she returned home to her building, and was met by her doorman telling her that she had a visitor.
"Tall, sandy blonde hair. Electric blue eyes." The doorman sounds bored by his description.
Brooke's heart thumps against her chest. "Name?" she squeaks.
"I don't remember."
She doesn't even need to hear the name. She already knows.
The elevator doors open into her living room, and she's met almost instantly by Lucas Scott. She takes off her coat, in silence, and he watches her with an indecipherable expression on his face.
She turns from the coat rack to face him. They're about 10 feet apart and you could cut the tension in the room with a knife.
"Why didn't you call?"
He answers almost instantly. "I didn't want to do this over the phone."
She sighs, and walks past him into the living room. "Okay, yell at me, fine! Tell me I'm an idiot for not telling you. I'm ready for it!" She stands defiantly with her hands on her hips.
He walks over to her, and speaks in a soothing voice. "I found your letter."
"What let – " but she's silences herself as she sees him pull out the cream colored envelope from his back pocket. She immediately flushes, and he isn't sure if it's from embarrassment or anger.
"About what you said, Brooke,"
"Get out." The words come out icy cold – filled with hate.
"What?"
"I said, get out." She looks at him expectantly but he doesn't move. "You went through my personal belongings, read something you weren't ever supposed to read, and now I wan't you out."
He tries to reason with her. "Brooke – "
"GET THE FUCK OUT!" She shoves him – hard, and immediately he's taken back for a split second to their fight in the anteroom at Nathan and Haley's wedding 5 years previously.
So he turns, defeated. She follows him to the elevator and he steps in and turns around. But before he can say anything else, she disappears into her bedroom and the doors slam in front of him.
He's still holding the letter.
you know you love me...
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