Part 2, from the perspective of Brooke and Jess (OC) and. Song is "Where Have You Been," by Manchester Orchestra. Still possible spoilers.

Nothin' is mine, kay.

Now that she really thought about it, a late night (or early morning) rendezvous with her spring line probably wasn't the most intellectual of ideas.

It was dark, because the lights were tricky, and locked, and well, Brooke always had someone else do it. It was dark and cold, at least for a Tree Hill April, and she hadn't bothered to change out of her short shorts and t-shirt.

At the moment, she was probably begging to be attacked by some crazy unknown monster creature. Something that would swoop down, make some guttural noise and drag her into the woods, then it would devour her, or implant little baby monsters into her stomach.

And now she's going crazy.

Add worried to cold and underdressed, and you've got the complimentary Brooke Davis trifecta.

"Just fabulous."

She was there, at the store for a reason that had long abandoned her. It was no longer about Peyton or Lucas. It wasn't even really about her. Mostly it was the entire premise of love. It was possible, it was existent. Contrary to the Brooke Davis experience, love was not a myth, not a hoax. It was viable, attainable. So why couldn't she obtain it?

Then, there it was, shaking her from her thoughts. The cracking of glass; heavy breathing. A man, in the store – by force – with her.

"Oh god."

This was not good.

A part of this entire situation seemed ridiculously contrived; walking, alone through the town center of Tree Hill. Like a terribly misplaced, poorly acted horror film or Pepperidge Farms commercial.

Or something.

Torn jeans, faded black Pink Floyd t-shirt, guitar. Jess had all the markings of a poor, dirty, traveling musician - or trouble maker.

Or something.

And it was true, a bit, the whole musician part. And traveling. And poor. But she smelled good and showered regularly – if not compulsively – and therefore was by no standard dirty.

By no means was Jess a hero. Tall, skinny, blonde and blue-eyed, she came across more "pretty" than "superwoman-esque". And by no means did she ever think she would find herself in a type of ass-kicking, Batwoman situation.

So as she walked and hummed, and occasionally sang – she thought of Quentin, her family, and possibly getting so very wasted, so very soon.

they call holidays an option for a reason
i hear your coming back to life just for the fourth
i've been catching all your ghosts for every season
i pray to god you won't come back here anymore

do you pray with him, too?

The streets were silent; completely, empty and enveloped in absence. Everything was peacefully still for a moment, or two, or maybe more.

And then, there it was; the present. Noise, not alarmingly loud, but Jess knew from these frequent early morning romps in Nowheretown that any noise past 11:30 was grounds for a police escort and wire taps.

they should deliver all my blessings
in small brown paper handbags near the porch
i wished i'd known that you were bleeding
while i sat and watched you reading with the lord

i read with him, too.

"What the fuck." She was now standing in front of a small building, the window next to the door was smashed, the door unlocked, and very wide open.

Common sense yelled to call the cops. Call someone, because this was so obviously wrong. Jess was no martial arts expert, no kick boxer, or regular boxer for that matter. So her brain screamed and yelled, no.

"Not a good idea."

when you look at me
i'll be digesting your legs
cause i can hardly see
what's in front of me these days
and those days, too.

She opened the door, completely at least. It was dark, the only light coming from a distant streetlight and the small crescent moon. She could see however a man, not a particularly large man – which even though Jess was slightly terrified, calmed her down a bit - this man pulling and yanking and slamming the cash register with a closed fist. The other, his right hand held tight an obviously battered woman, not much older than herself.

A stray piece of glass, a misstep, and crack – and all eyes were on her. Now she was just praying there was no gun, crossbow, or any other long range weapon around.

"Hey!"

She had alarmed him, which turned out for the better, seeing as he released his grip on the young woman.

"Um, yeah." In retrospect, something a little more frightening probably would've worked. But, she'd gotten his obviously unwanted attention, and he pushed his way past her, out the door he had come in.

Easier than she'd expected.

i've got to take what i'm making
and turn it into something
i've got to take what i'm making
and turn it into something
for you

The woman, she hadn't moved, and this was, if Grey's Anatomy served as any implication, not a good thing. So with haste Jess made her way over to the spot she had been dropped, behind the counter.

She was visibly more battered than Jess had originally seen. And visibly more attractive – although, noticing this was not on the agenda. Jess called 911, and realized she had no idea where she was.

"Clothes Over Bro's" she had whispered to the operator after checking her location. She didn't want to go too far, and no street signs were present, so she had hoped that would suffice.

"Hey," she'd whispered to the woman, quietly trying to soothe the stranger.

"Hey," had been replied in a scratchy tone, but the words came out strangled.

"You're gonna be just fine, I figure, since you're breathin' and all." Jess had wanted to lift some of the tension, maybe lighten the mood.

The dark haired girl had laughed, somewhat – the best she could.

"I'm Jess, Jessica Landry."

"Brooke Davis."

"Well, Brooke Davis, you should be more careful." She'd replied smiling, something about Brooke's aura just made the situation seem much - easier.

"You saved me," it was so quiet, she almost couldn't make out what had just been said.

i've got to break what i'm making
and turn it into something
i've got to break what i'm making
and turn it into something
for you

"Right place, right time." Brooke grabbed her hand, and the sirens could be heard in the distance. Here she was with a complete stranger, in a completely terrible situation, that felt better than she had any time in the last few months.

The red and blue lights swallowed the building. Reflecting off of the broken glass on the floor, filling the darkness, and bringing Jess back to the present.

They came, lifted Brooke onto a stretcher, and wheeled her away. A young man, one of the EMT's asked if she would like to join them in the ambulance. Jess should've said no. She barely knew this woman; she hadn't slept in days.

She definitely should've said no. Her aunt would worry. Did Brooke even want her there? Wasn't it some sort of rule that strangers don't ride in vehicles with each other?

God, where have you been?
God, oh God, where have you been?
God, my God, my God, where have you been?

"Yes."

Thanks for the reviews guys! I really appreciate it, and i'm glad you like it. I have a couple more chapters completely written, so updates should be pretty frequent for a bit.

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