A/N I should be shot. No, literally, I don't deserve life. I can't believe I went so long without updating any of my stories. It's just - I've been away so much that it's been so hard for my to work on them. Please don't hate me. I have one chapter left for When the Sky Comes Crashing Down so I'm going to try to write that tomorrow morning. And I'm about a quarter of the way through a new chapter for Finding Our Way Back To Us, so I will try to get that to you no later than Saturday morning.

One last, I'M SORRY!!!!

Anyway, I hope you like this chapter )

xo Emma

3. Guilt and Rage

Haley sighed into the crib as the small boy kept crying. Her previous attempts to quiet him down had been cast away, the stuffed animals thrown to the other side of the nursery. The only thing Ryder would cling on to was a filthy old stuffed rabbit that Haley assumed had never been washed. Soothingly she pried the rabbit from his hands and made a mental note to run it through the washing machine later.

"You ready to go?" Nathan came into the room, speaking to her in a very monotone voice.

Haley lifted Ryder out of his crib. "Maybe I shouldn't go. I don't want to leave Ryder when he's crying."

Nathan sighed. "Haley, the sitter's already here. He'll be fine."

Haley replaced Ryder who still had tears streaming down his face and followed Nathan with a few backward glances. She paused in the living room to place a kiss on her 7 year old son and 4 year old daughter's cheeks. Their eyes were glued to Spongebob Squarepants.

Once they were in the car, Nathan paused before starting the ignition.

"What?" Haley saw her husband's hesitation.

"Maybe you should drive," he said, looking into his lap. "I had a few drinks."

"Already?" Haley felt the anger rise up in her stomach. "Nathan, it's barely noon!"

"Don't lecture me!" he snapped.

Fuming, Haley pushed open the car door and strode around to the other side. Nathan climbed out of the driver's seat.

"I can't believe you Nathan. Believe it or not, we have three children living in our house. They don't need a father stumbling around drunk half the time."

He didn't respond to her last comment, just stared moodily out the window as she pulled out of the driveway.

Haley knew that this was just a phase – that Nathan was simply depressed about Whitey. It had almost seemed as though things were getting better yesterday. Then he had returned from the Rivercourt livid, slamming the door behind him and retreating to the study for the remainder of the day. Haley wondered if something had happened down there, or if he was simply having mood swings.

"At the Rivercourt yesterday," Nathan said, as though he was reading Haley's mind. "I kind-of ran into…" he trailed off.

"Who?" She asked, stealing a glance at him.

"Nevermind," he grumbled, returning his gaze to the window.

"Who?" Haley asked again, persistent. This would be the answer to his foul mood yesterday.

"No one. Just drop it."

And she did.

IIIIIIII

Brooke had barely unpacked yesterday, so getting her things together was not difficult. She traveled a fair amount, and had learned to pack light, though light for Brooke Davis was anything but for anyone else. However, on this trip she had packed mainly jeans and sweats, save for the dress she was wearing now, finding solace in her comfort clothes.

She took one last look around the room. The ironic thing was, she had always felt safer in this bedroom than she had in any other room she had ever slept in. Not because it was Lucas'. Simply because it made her feel safe. Maybe it was the soft colors or the way the light from the window spilled onto the bed in the afternoon. Or maybe because a portion of her heart went into that room one day, and never really came out.

Smoothing out her simple black halter dress, she stepped out into the hallway. Lucas was in the living room, folding up the blankets that he had slept with on the couch.

"Where are you going?" he asked, eyeing the suitcase that she was trailing behind her.

"I'm gonna' check into The Riverside before the funeral."

"Why?" he paused in his actions, looking up at her.

"Come on Lucas. Your mom's hospitality is nice and all, but we both no this isn't going to work as long as your mad at me. And since clearly you're still mad at me, which I don't exactly blame you for, I think it would be better if we weren't in such close quarters."

She could see he knew it was true. Though they had lived together for a few weeks her junior year, she could see how these few days wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable. She could cut the tension with a knife, and she wasn't exactly envisioning spending extended periods of time lounging around with Lucas, fighting over the remote.

He didn't stop her as she rolled her suitcase out the door. However, he watched from the window as she pulled the rental car out of the driveway, and disappeared down the road.

"Did Brooke just leave?" Karen asked as she entered the room.

"Yeah. She went to The Riverside. She said something about not wanting to impose on you any longer."

Karen shrugged. "She hadn't exactly been a nuisance. But she probably needed her space."

"Yeah," Lucas responded absentmindedly. Though Brooke hadn't exactly been a prevalent part of his life recently, it was though her return had knocked him off balance. She baffled him in that she had changed so much from when he first met her. While she kept her fierce sense of loyalty and her strong heart, she had evolved so much from the lost and confused girl he had found naked in his backseat at the beginning of their junior year. He had written about her almost two much in his first book, that his editor had asked him sarcastically if he would like to change the title of his book from "An Unkindness of Ravens," to "I Heart Brooke Davis Fan Club."

He searched for her over the crowd, but he couldn't spot her. She wasn't with Haley, or Nathan, or Peyton, or Chase…

And then he spotted her, over behind a pillar. She was crying.

"Hey," he came up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she blubbered with a small smile, brushing the tassel from her face. "It's just…I know moving on is a good thing. I guess I'm just scared – you know? High School's safe and I'm not so sure if I'm ready for the real world."

He paused, wondering if this was the right time, or if he should simply wait until she read the book. He decided on the former.

"Um," he removed a leather-bound book from the pocket of his graduation robe. "For the past few months I've been writing this, I guess in parts, so I could remember it all. But um…" he flipped through the pages trying to find a good section. "Here." He handed her the book and pointed awkwardly to his chosen passage.

"She was fiercely independent – Brooke Davis. Brilliant, and beautiful, and brave. In two years she had grown more than anyone I had ever known. Brooke Davis is going to change the world someday and I'm not sure she even knows it."

Brooke seemed to be crying even more now as she looked up at him with a watery smile.

"You're gonna' do great, Brooke. The world doesn't stand a chance."

"Thank you." He leaned in for a short hug, which she accepted. Then she turned to go.

"Hey Luke," she said, looking back. He looked up. "I'm sorry about you and Peyton," she said after a pause.

He smiled softly. "Don't be."

IIIIIIII

She didn't want to go to the funeral, just the wake, so she simply sat around the hotel room for an hour, attempting to unpack, but always getting sidetracked by the Democratic debate that was on television.

She had bad experiences with funerals. There was her grandmother's when she was six. That had been hard for her simply because her Nana was her last living grandparent, and one of her only relatives that she really loved.

Of course Peyton's mom passed away when she and Peyton were nine. And she had to be brave for Peyton and let her curly haired friend cry on her shoulder and squeeze her hand until it hurt, even though Brooke herself was crumbling inside. She still had images of Anna giving the girls chocolate chip cookies in the afternoon, and driving them to the mall to take stupid pictures in the photo booth, and tucking them in at sleepovers and giving Brooke a kiss on the forehead as well, more than Brooke had ever gotten from her own mother.

Wakes were easier. If she forgot everyone was wearing black and pretended it was simply a quiet get together, she could make it through. If she only stayed long enough to give her condolences, she was fine. And today, that was all she planned to do.

She arrived at the grand house that belonged to Whitey's niece at around two. She looked for a parking place, and cursed under her breath as she spotted both Lucas' and Haley and Nathan's cars. She had hoped that by arriving late she would miss them, and miss the inevitable confrontation, but she knew that she would have to get it over with eventually.

The house was crowded when she stepped into the foyer, and she quickly sidestepped a few loosely familiar faces, before slipping into the kitchen. She spotted a woman over at the counter who was filling a vase with water. The woman was about 35 and looked vaguely familiar from when Brooke may have seen her at basketball games or around town.

"Kathy?" The woman looked up. "Your Whitey's niece, right?"

Kathy nodded and extended her hand. Brooke shook it. "I'm Brooke. And I'm so sorry about your loss."

Kathy smiled warmly. "Thank you." She paused. "Brooke Davis, right?"

Puzzled, Brooke nodded.

"My uncle used to talk about you. Said you were the most stubborn head cheerleader he had ever known, and that he would miss you when you graduated."

Guilt settled in Brooke's stomach. The realization that Whitey seemed to know her a lot better than she had known him made her feel ten times more remorseful than she had before. But she faked a quick smile before excusing herself to go to the restroom.

IIIIIIII

"What is she doing here?" Nathan felt sharp nails on his arm as he turned to his wife.

"Who?" He followed her gaze to the brunette who sat alone on a couch in the living room. "Oh," was all that came out when he spotted Brooke.

"Did you know she was coming?" asked Haley, fire in her eyes as she rounded on her husband.

Nathan figured the best way to answer that was to simply not respond. Haley blew up.

"You did, didn't you? I cannot believe this! You knew she was coming and didn't bother to tell me?"

Nathan pulled Haley into the hallway because they were attracting unwanted attention.

"I'm sorry okay? She showed up at the Rivercourt yesterday apologizing about Whitey and I just kind of let it out on her."

Haley gritted her teeth. Though tried to pretend that Brooke didn't get under her skin, it was getting much harder to do. Immediately after the accident, she excepted it when Brooke asked her if she would keep Ryder for awhile, figured she needed a little time to sort things out and cool down. So Haley tried to keep in touch, sending Brooke little notes letting her know that everyone was fine, Ryder was fine, and was Brooke fine? But then she never wrote back, never called, and Haley grew angry with every passing day. Brooke had simply abandoned the only responsibility she had ever been left with.

Haley had been silent to long. Turning on her heel, she marched straight into the living room and up to the girl she used to call a friend.

"Hey Brooke," she said, folding her arms, and looking down at the brunette as she jumped up from the couch.

"H-Haley. Hi." Brooke held out her arms half-heartedly for an attempt at a hug, but Haley didn't accept it.

"What are you doing here?" The question was accusatory, sharp.

"I'm here for the wake," Brooke responded, as though the answer was obvious.

"Bullshit." Haley spoke and the whole room went silent. She felt a hand on her arm, pulling her back.

"Hales, come on, not here." Nathan sounded more soothing than he had in weeks. But Haley pushed on, anger rising in her stomach.

"You're four months late, Brooke," continued Haley, Brooke's name sounding like nails on her tongue. "Nobody wants you here if you're just coming to fuck with our heads before disappearing again."

Brooke had tears in her eyes and Haley was about to continue before a voice interrupted her.

"That's enough, Haley." Lucas' words came cutting into the conversation, stopping Haley from speaking again. He nodded at Haley to Nathan, and she felt her husbands arm pulling her back through the crowd and out into the afternoon air.

Nathan steered her towards the car. "Don't make a scene," he murmured, though it was much to late for that.

As they pulled out of the long sloping driveway, Brooke emerged from the house, running down the steps and across the lawn to where her car was parked. Lucas followed, yelling her name. He caught up to her and stopped her from climbing into the drivers seat. She was crying, Haley could see that much, and she leaned up against the car as Lucas smoothed her hair.

He was telling her he would drive her. Of course he would. He was a gentleman. Sure enough, he managed to coax her into the passengers seat as he started the car. And then they disappeared from view as Haley and Nathan started down the street.

Haley knew that Lucas would take Brooke back to wherever she was staying and wouldn't leave until the tears stopped. Any amount of anger he had at Brooke Davis was always immediately dissolved when he had to watch her cry.

I hope you liked it! Please R+R