When Your Sun Turns Black
This story is written by brookescott134 and Brucas46Forever. We really, really hope you like this. Comments are greatly appreciated and they are what keep us encouraged to write. Remember that.
Summary: Sometimes people play hard-to-get because they need to know the other person's feelings are real, but sometimes, for some of us, we play too hard.
Rating: T
Chapter Two: Mr. and Mrs. Scott
Nothing's gonna change the things that you said
Nothing's gonna make this right again
Please don't turn your back
I can't believe it's hard
Just to talk to you
But you don't understand
-"Perfect" by Simple Plan
Brooke was in her room, furious with the man who claimed to be a husband. He was absolutely clueless, and completely dense. She was hurt beyond belief, and tears burned her eyes as she paced around the room, trying to cal herself down.
Forty-five minutes later, after tucking both kids into bed and reading them a short bedtime story, something he realized he rarely ever did anymore, Lucas trudged towards his room, head lulling as if he was about to fall asleep while walking. He turned the knob on the door, and to his dismay, it wouldn't budge. She had locked the door, he realized. That meant another night to spend on the big, comfy couch, only to wake up with an extremely sore back. Sighing, he moved to the closet nearby and grabbed his extra pillow and blanket. I should really keep these on the couch more often, he thinks as he stumbles down the stairs.
"Daddy," a soft voice cooed. His eyes opened slightly, the light temporarily blinding him. "Daddy," the voice repeated. He felt a hand on his cheek, rubbing it softly.
He squints his eyes at the source of light above him and attempts to lift himself up. As soon as he does so, his head spins and it feels like it's going to fall off his neck and roll. He groans and puts his head back down. Through his dizziness he hears a giggle. Then the light disappears. He rests his head for a minute before opening his eyes.
He turns his head to see Shelby staring at him with blue eyes almost identical to his, a flashlight in her hand. "Good morning, daddy," she says. He smiles softly at his daughter and tries to speak. Groaning again, he lifts a hand up to his head. His fingers touch cloth, and a confused look passes across his face. Taking it off his forehead, he realizes it's a damp towel. He wonders briefly what it was doing there. "Mommy put that there," Shelby says as if reading his mind. "She says it'll help the fever go down."
He nods sullenly, looking over to see Brooke, clad in her pajama shorts and tank top, storming over to him, a cup of water in her right hand, the other clenched in a fist. I hope she's keeping something in there because if not, I'm afraid that fist is for me. And she surprised him when she passes him the water and two pills, albeit quite roughly, muttering something about it relieving the pain.
She sits before him on the coffee table and grabs the small towel off his stomach. There is a bowl of water lying nearby, and she soaks the blue cotton in the old water. She lifts it up, twists it, and squeezes. She repeats the process expertly several times until no water is dripping, leaving it damp enough.
All the while, Lucas watches her, fascinated by her beauty and charm. Her eyes never meet his as she softly wipes the sweat off his forehead, placing the cloth on it once more.
Brooke stands up, grabbing the cup of water from his hands. Shelby picks up the bowl on the table and follows her mother into the kitchen, Landon tagging close behind. He lays still, and watches as she returns, their children following her every step of the way. Sitting back down on the coffee table, she adjusts the towel, her fingers grazing his warm skin. She surprises him by looking into his eyes for the first time that morning. "How do you feel?" she asks, her voice soft and smooth.
His voice is groggy when he speaks, like he's swallowed a toad. "Just a little dizzy . . . thanks."
"I woke up to find you lying in a pool of sweat and you were burning up," she explained non-nonchalantly, and it sets him off a bit that she speaks like she doesn't care.
Still, she was being kind enough to take care of him, he thinks, even after last night. He looks up at her, not knowing what to say. "I, uh, hadn't realized," he says stupidly.
"Yeah," she says. "Come on guys," she directs towards her kids, "Let's let daddy sleep. Mommy will make you two some breakfast."
As he watches her kids grab her hands and lead her to the kitchen, he sighs inaudibly, wishing she would talk to him properly. He wants to get up and follow her; to thank her; to hug her. But instead he lays still, closing his eyes as the dizziness was brought back again. He fell into the realms of his mind easily, dreaming of better times for the couple.
A while later, he was woken up again by the same little girl who now occupied his lap. "Daddy!" she giggles. "Wake up. You got to play with me!"
Lucas groans and twists his head to the side, lifting his right arm to throw it over his eyes.
"Shelb!" Lucas heard his wife call. "Go get ready so we can go to Aunt Haley's, okay?" She walks in and lifts the child off her husband. Shelby giggled and skipped out to do as her mother told her. When she was gone, Brooke turned to Lucas. "You know, you could act like you like her a little bit." He can tell she is still mad at him. "She is seven. She doesn't know you don't feel good."
He sighs, his good mood ruined. "What did I do wrong this time?"
"Don't pull that, Lucas," she warned, ringing out the towel again.
"Pull what? Everything I do is wrong to you. I come home, but I should have come earlier. I should have left my cell phone. I should have told you before I went anywhere. I should laugh and play with my daughter when my head feels like it's about to explode." He sounds fed up, and he lifts his hands up for emphasis. "I just don't get what I'm supposed to do, Brooke." And he really does sound lost and confused.
"Okay, fine then. Take care of yourself, Lucas," Brooke said, tossing the towel to him before standing up. "I guess what I said last night had no effect on you. What a surprise." Her tone contradicted her words.
"Brooke," he calls out this time despite the shakiness of his head. He sits up. "Brooke," he says again, "you can't just keep running away like that. I need to know what you want from me."
"I shouldn't have to tell you, Lucas. And if you don't want me to run off . . . don't give me a reason to."
Lucas lets out a mutter of curses, angry with himself for ruining every conversation between him and his wife. But she keeps walking away, the devil on his left shoulder whispers to him. The little man dressed in white on his left shoulder, however, has something different to say. And deep down in his mind, Lucas knows he is right, even if he won't admit it to himself.
Brooke pulled into Haley and Nathan's driveway, getting out and helping her children get down from the car. They walked in without walking, there truly was no need, to find Haley with her hands full. "Hales! We're here!" Brooke calls into the warm home.
"Oh, Brooke! Thank God, you're here. He's driving me insane," she says as she drops the black haired boy in front of his Godmother.
Brooke looks down at him and can't help but smile. His shirt is smudged in dirt and ice cream. Nice combination, she thinks. His shoelaces are untied and muddy, just as the rest of him is. His black hair is spotted in brown, yet his eyes look the most innocent she's ever seen them She sets her kids free and they run around the house, looking for Haley's eldest kids.
Bending down to the boy's level, Brooke says with a smirk, "Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite nephew, Austin. I can see you're still quite the trouble maker." She grabs him by the arms gently. "You know, you're giving your mom a bit of a hard time."
He looks up at her smiling, yet demanding, face. "I know," he replies quietly. "But I didn't mean to."
"Well, if you are really, really good and stay out of trouble, I'll give you a special treat before I leave." She smiled as she saw his face light up. "But you have to be really good and listen to mommy. Sound like a deal?" His face fell for a second before Brooke reached down to his sides to tickle him, laughter emitting his voice immediately. "Good monkey. Now, go take a shower and get yourself cleaned up."
Haley watches Brooke with envy. There is no one Austin listen to other than Brooke, and Haley is happy for the relationship they have. "How the hell do you do that . . . Every damn time," Haley says, watching in amazement as her son kissed Brooke on the cheek and ran to follow her orders.
"I'm just gifted, I guess," Brooke boasted, sharing a laugh with Haley. Patting her on the shoulder she said, "It will get better, I promise."
"For you too," Haley said, finding the perfect opening for a conversation she knew Brooke desperately needed to have with someone.
"What do you mean?" Brooke asked innocently, walking to sit herself on Haley's plush leather couch.
"Come on, Brooke. You're not fooling anybody with that."
She was determined to keep her cool and not spill out her fears. "With what? I don't know what will get better for me, Hales. I have a great life." She smiled, a big, fake smile that she had to admit she was getting all too good at. After all, when it is the only smile you give for a couple of years you start to fool yourself, too. "I have a nice house, great kids, a good job . . ." she trailed off. "What more could I possibly need?"
"A good husband," Haley said simply, catching Brooke off guard for a second.
She quickly recovered. "Have you forgotten Lucas exists that quickly?" Brooke joked. Haley shot her a stern look. Brooke sighed and looked away. "We're," Brooke started, "working on it."
"Listen, Brooke. I know how stubborn Lucas can be, okay?" Brooke nodded, and Haley could clearly see the dark circles under her eyes. She truly felt bad for her friend. Deciding not to stress the matter any further, Haley continued and offered, "So, if you ever need anything, and I mean anything, you know who to turn to, okay?"
"Thanks, Haley. I should probably get home to the husband now. He's sick and I didn't really leave in the best of terms," she sighed.
"Okay, and don't worry about Shelby and Landon. They'll have a great time. Abigail and Michael are home. They'll keep them busy."
"Thank you so much, Haley," Brooke said. She loved her kids more than anything and everyone knew that, but even someone like Brooke needed a small break every once in a while.
"It's nothing, Brooke. Now, go home and work on that marriage of yours," she said to her.
"If he's even still there," Brooke remarked bitterly. "I don't even think a 102 fever could keep him home," she said as the bitter hurt continued to escape her tongue.
"Well, why don't you go home and check. Who knows? Maybe he'll surprise you." And Haley was truly hoping he would.
"At this point, anything could." Brooke got off the couch, giving Haley a hug before yelling up to her kids that she loved them and would see them later before grabbing her purse and making her way out the door.
When she arrived at her own house, she walked in, setting her things down on the small entry way table adjacent to the door.
Lucas was in the bathroom standing before the sink when he heard the door slam shut. It's Brooke, he thought. Running the razor across his face one more time, he used a towel to wipe away the white, fluffy cream off his face. He ran water down his cheeks then, and when Brooke entered the room, he looked at her through the mirror and she stared back.
She looked at him, waiting for him to say something, anything, but, as she expected, he never uttered a word. He simply stared back. There was no, "I'm sorry," or an, "I love you." Not even a, "How are you?" escaped his lips. She let out a bitter chuckle, shaking her slightly before walking deeper into their room, out of eye shot.
He sighed, dropping the towel onto the sink. His hand rested on either side of the sink, his head held down. Looking up into the mirror, he laughed at his own stupidity. He turns around quickly then and ran out the bathroom.
"Brooke," he called. She didn't reply. She wasn't in their room, and she wasn't in the kitchen. He ran a hand through his ruffled hair, thinking of any other place she could be. He ran back upstairs and took a left to the left to the kids' room. Just as he expected, the door was locked. "Brooke," Lucas called softly. He knocked on the door twice. "Brooke, open the door . . . please."
"Go lay down, Lucas. You need to rest," she said to him from inside. Her voice sounded small and far away.
"Brooke," he returned. "I need to talk to you."
"Now you need to talk?" she asked, anger filling her voice. "Now, Lucas!? It has only been what, a year and a half since we had a good conversation, but now? Now you need to talk!?"
"Brooke, can we please do this face to face and not when you're behind a closed door?" he begged.
He received silence and started to walk away before the door opened and Brooke appeared.
"You want to talk . . . talk?"
"Yes, Brooke. I want to talk . . . about us, and about the way you've been acting with me lately."
"The way I've been acting lately?"
"Brooke, you've been shutting me out. Every time I get home you throw some nasty comment and walk away. You never talk to me about what's really bothering you."
Brooke said nothing for a minute before slowly answering. "Have you ever thought that, maybe it's because you're never there to talk to, hm?" She raised her eyebrows at him and crossed her arms.
"My work is important, Brooke. How else am I supposed to provide for this family, huh?" He rand a hand over his mouth, agitated.
"Lucas! We don't need all these. We don't need the new toys and expensive cars. We need you!"
"Brooke, I can't just quit my work. You know that!" His own voice rose with every word he spoke.
"I'm not asking you to, Lucas, but when you have a day off, how about you try spending with me and the kids. Or how about you don't work on the weekends, and you don't come home after midnight every night . . . Lucas, my job is just as important as yours but I still manage. It really isn't that hard," she yelled at him, her green eyes shining with pain.
"What do you want me to say, Brooke? What? My work is my life. I worked so hard for that company, and you're asking me to just give it up," Lucas said, his voice quieting down slightly.
"I never once asked you to give it up. I am just asking to cut back, and let me tell you," she said, sarcasm accentuating her speech, "it is absolutely wonderful to hear that your work means more to you than this marriage, this family!" Her smooth, red lips spoke words he wasn't feeling up to listening to. "So it's your life, is it? Well then why don't you just go live there because I am done, Lucas. You don't give a shit about me and you don't give a shit about this family so just go. I am done acting like we can get through this because until you start trying, until you start fighting, it won't be."
Lucas couldn't say anything. He found he couldn't think straight. His wife was standing before him, wearing a silky smooth halter top and skin tight jeans, hair pinned back perfectly, allowing her tendrils to frame her face. Her eye-makeup was soft and subtle yet sultry beyond belief, and the more she screamed the more he wanted to give her other reasons to scream.
He could think of nothing other than how hot she looked right now, her eyes blazing with fiery rage as she yelled every insult she could think of at him. And his mind still wasn't thinking when he rushed forward like an animal, grabbing her forcefully.
His mouth connected to hers, cutting off her words, and she was so stunned she froze in her place. It had been so long since they'd touched let alone kissed and she didn't know how to respond.
Lucas probed her mouth with his tongue, and she began to slowly warm up to him, opening her mouth for him, allowing his tongue access inside.
His spirits lifted when she finally responded to him, and his insides bubbled with joy, a feeling that seemed foreign to him now. Placing his hand on her lower back, he put more of his energy into the kiss as she began to do the same.
Walking backwards, he pushed her up against the wall, hoisting her on his knee, continuing to ravage her. It had been so long since he'd tasted her, and he couldn't believe he could forget such a taste.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, his lips traveling down her chest and to her full breasts. She gasped and groaned. He came back up, licking her lips before carrying her down the hall and into their bedroom.
Standing before the bed, they looked each other in the eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd studied her eyes as she was doing now. Slowly this time, he kissed her again, and she kissed back with just as much fervor.
Their movements slowed down as he carefully laid her on the bed, and they both seemed a bit apprehensive. He looked her in the eyes, as if asking her permission. She didn't talk. Simply, she brought her hands to trail down his muscular chest, an act that drove him crazy with lust, and down to the hem of his jeans.
She hooked her fingers inside, and his breath caught in his throat as her nails grazed his skin, his eyes closing, relishing the feeling of her touch. Her fingers moved up to lift his shirt up and over his head, and that was all he needed before ripping her shirt off.
Brooke arched her back in pure pleasure as he kissed down her smooth, toned abdomen, getting to her jeans and unbuttoning them slowly, kissing the inch of bare skin just above it. His kisses followed his fingers as they worked quickly to unzip her jeans, causing her to moan out loud, a sound he hadn't heard in ages, but it drove him that much more crazy as she threw her jeans to the floor.
"God, Lucas," she panted.
Looking down at his stunning wife, who laid before him, breathless, in nothing more than her pink lacy boy shorts and matching bra, her eyes locked with his and he loved the the small, almost unnoticeable smile gracing her face.
He trails kisses on her chest, his expert hands going back to unhook her bra. She lifts herself off the bed to aid him, and he throws the pink lace to the ground. Resuming his sloppy kisses, his mouth pleasures her one breast while his hand explores the other.
She moaned, her back arching, thrusting her breasts in his face. He didn't seem to mind as he continued to taste her. As Lucas did amazing things to her, Brooke realized she had almost forgotten what he would be able to do to her, how he could make her melt. All the things he was making her feel right now, she hadn't remembered or felt for so long. He was amazing, she knew, and this she hadn't forgotten.
Lucas let out an animal-like growl, switching his hand and mouth's positions. His kisses moved down to her stomach then, and even lower until he reached her panties. His thumbs latched onto the flimsy fabric that covered barely anything, and they were off in one, smooth movement. He spreads her knees apart and continued his slow torture on her body, taking her to the highest peak and back.
After catching her breath, she began to work on his belt buckle as he kissed her. He was surprised at her speed in taking off his under garments, leaving them both bare naked. They looked into each other's eyes as he entered her, both cherishing the feeling of each other. She lifted her knees up and pulled her legs back, allowing him to fill her up further and he groaned at the feeling.
She arched under him; she was so high right now, her body having never felt as amazing as it was now. He entered her quickly and forcefully, but passionately at the same time. She could feel the way she used to feel back when they were first married. She felt that he loved her, that sense of comfort that used to be so familiar to her. It was a feeling she hadn't felt in a whole and she didn't really know what to do with it.
"Lucas," she moaned, stressing the 's' in his name. He went crazy when she moaned his name like that, quickening his pace, hardening his thrusts. A couple of minutes later, his movements became slower, but deeper. He placed a kiss on her forehead, bringing a full-fledged smile to her face, the first one he had seen yet.
"I love you," he said softly, almost to the point where she couldn't hear it.
She hadn't heard those words from him in so long, and she wasn't sure she heard him right. "What?" she asked, needing to hear him say it again.
"I-I love you," he repeated, louder and clearer this time.
She looked up at him, another smile forming on her face as she pulled him down, letting his lips crash with hers again. He kissed her back, loving her. As she pulled away and looked up at him, she whispered, "I love you, too." He reached his peak then, emptying inside her as they moaned simultaneously.
They lay back on the bed with a sigh, cuddled in each other's arms. Minutes passed and they lay entangled in each other's arms. Brooke's fingers played with the strands of hair on Lucas' chest as he lay admiring her beauty. He too hadn't felt this happy in a long time, and he had almost forgot how good it felt.
Brooke giggled then, and he looked at her uncertainly.
"What?" he asked playfully.
"Nothing, it's just . . . a really good thing Haley decided to take the kids for a sleep over."
He laughed softly.
Laughing as well, she said, "It's been so long."
"Yeah, the last time was—" Her breath hitched in her throat. He doesn't continue, but they both know what he was going to say. She says nothing. There is complete silence until he whispers remorsefully, "Brooke, I'm sorry."
She hesitates to ask. "For what?"
He hesitates to answer. "For . . . the baby."
Her body tenses. They had yet to talk about this, despite the fact that it had been close to two years now. "What is there to be sorry for?" she says. "It wasn't your fault."
"I know, but . . . I knew how much you wanted one. And I knew how happy you were when we finally got pregnant. You were always smiling. We were happy, and then—"
He felt a drop of water on his chest and he looks down to see her sad eyes. She looks away from him, embarrassed. "Hey, hey," he whispered. He reached over, wiping away her tears with his thumb. And as soon as he touches her, she explodes in tears.
Burying her head in his chest, the tears continue to spill out. When it had first happened she hadn't allowed herself to cry at all. She held her hopes high and put on a smile for her two kids, acting as though nothing was wrong. But now, with herself finally in his arms again, she just couldn't help it.
They sat on the bed, side by side, each looking down. He held her hand tightly in his own as her small body shook beneath his.
"Don't be nervous," he soothed.
"How can I not be?"
"It it is meant to happen, it will."
"You say that every time," she said.
"Well, maybe it will actually work this time."
"It's been two years, Lucas, and nothing. We have sex all the time and still . . ."
He laughed at the irony of her statement. They really were like rabbits; every chance they got that seemed to be what they did. Yet surprisingly, they were the only ones having difficulty becoming pregnant. "Just breath," he instructed.
She started to say something when the ding of the little timer went off, a sound all too familiar to them both. "Are you checking or am I?" she asked.
"Why don't we check together?" he offered.
"I'm scared," she admitted, gripping his hand tighter.
He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "It's okay. It'll be okay."
He kissed the top of her forehead before reaching his hand out slowly, taking the stick into his hands. He was about to flip it over, but paused and looked at Brooke. "I just want you to know that I love you no matter what, okay?"
She nodded, and he slowly flipped it over.
"What does it say?" she asked, holding her breath.
He looks in astonishment at his wife, and he whispers the results to her. His voice is so low she can barely understand what he's saying, but she thinks he said the word 'positive' somewhere in between the jumble and her breath stops for a moment.
She looks up at him, wide-eyed and hopeful. Looking down at her, he repeated clearer this time, "Positive. It-It's positive."
She almost doesn't believe him for a second. "What?" And then she looks down at the test. At the sight of the two blue lines, she screams with joy as he lets out a deep, heartfelt laugh.
Brooke practically tackles him, a huge smile on her face as she hugged him tightly, laughing as happy tears rolled down her face.
"Brooke, shh," he attempted to soothe her. "Brooke, it was a long time ago. Every thing's okay now." Wasn't it?
"No, it's not," she cried. "It's my fault . . . All of it."
"What? Brooke, none of it is your fault. It was all an accident. It's okay now, Brooke."
"It's not, though," she said, pulling away from him, immediately missing his warmth. "Nothing is okay anymore, Lucas."
"Brooke, come on. We were just fine. Don't ruin this," he says softly.
She scoffed at his remark. "Whatever, Lucas," she said, getting out of bed, wrapping a sheet around her naked body. "We weren't fine. We haven't been fine and from the way you act we aren't going to be fine anytime soon."
"Brooke—" The ring of his phone cuts him off.
He looks at her hesitantly, debating in his mind whether to pick it up or not. Realizing it could be important he looked at the screen. Emergency Work, it flashed, taunting him. He sighed, answering it, his eyes traveling to Brooke who was glaring at him a few feet away, and she looked so sexy to him standing as naked as she was. He was tempted to throw away his phone and re-live the past couple of hours, but his boss' voice broke through the phone, and he was brought back to reality—his reality of a broken marriage. He listens intently on the phone for a second, and Brooke is fuming, arms crossed to keep the sheet from falling.
"Yeah, okay. I'll be there in 10 minutes." A pause. "Okay, bye." He hangs up at looks at her.
"Well?" she asks expectantly.
"I have to go. They need me at work right away." He gets up and moves to his closet to search for his clothes.
"Lucas . . ." she started, taking a deep breath, "if you leave now, don't bother coming back."