Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the Prologue to this story. I had been thinking about writing a Brucas story for a while but no ideas came to until last night, so I realy this is good enough for you. Please review. Title of this chapter is a song by Ross Copperman.

Chapter Two

They'll Never Know

She had successfully avoided everyone for the past two days.

They came to her house, she never answered the door. They rang her phone, she never picked it up, never even glanced at it. She knew that they had been going to her store but that was pointless, she wasn't fixed enough to step back in there. Remembering would be too painful, far more painful than the bruises that still existed on her body. The fact that they obviously cared didn't seem to matter her. Their care was too late.

She was already broken.

Yet with all these problems, her being attacked in what she thought was her safe place; her store, her friend's annoying unwillingness to give up and the fact her body was still bruised, she still felt numb. No feeling seemed to want to surge through her body. There was no anger or grief, no pain.

The shrill of her phone rang through the house and she made no effort to move from her bed; the answer machine would pick up them message, like it had with the first twenty-six.

"Hey Brooke, it's Haley. I know that you're avoiding us, all of us, for some reason and...well, we're worried....I hate to tell you this over the phone but....Quentin died, you know the boy in my class? His funeral is tomorrow, we'd like you to come, me, Nathan, Lucas, we need you..."

No chance.

"Jamie needs you, Brooke. He's really torn up and he needs his Aunt Brooke. I hope you can come. We're meeting at ours at 8am. It would be great, for Jamie, if you can come. For Jamie, Brooke, for Jamie..."

Jamie needs you...for Jamie.Those words rang through her head over and over again, playing like a broken record. It was a hit below the belt, a cheap shot, using Jamie as a ploy to get her to go to the funeral and the sad thing was, she would probably go. Wake up in the morning, put on a nice, black dress and that perfected fake smile and be at their house at 8am sharp. Well, she wouldn't wake up, just get up, sleep wasn't a necessity to her anymore, it wasn't easy anymore. She wasn't safe in sleep, there was no dreams, just painfully real nightmares.

Memories from that night.

She didn't want to go tomorrow, she didn't want to face all those who she had successfully avoided in the previous fifty-two hours. They would all see her face, her beaten and bruised face. She knew there would be questions, worries, concerns and she didn't want to deal with that but she had to go, for Jamie. None of this was his fault and she didn't have the heart not to go and be there for him. She had to be there for him.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled herself off her bed and walked to her bathroom. She turned on her shower, not bothering to turn down the heat and after she stripped herself of her clothing, she stepped under the scolding water. She flinched slightly as the water collided with her fragile skin but bit back the hiss that formed in the back of her throat. She grabbed the soap and began to scrub, frantically rubbing it against her skin, trying to erase the memories of his hands on her. Her skin began to turn red due to the harsh abrasions.

Her body seemed to grow weak from the strength she was putting into the scrubs and she dropped, her back leaning against the cold tiles; her body racked with sobs. She hated that she had become so weak, that she seemed so useless and futile. Confidence was one of her many endearing traits and it was taken from her, he took that from her. Making her live in fear, keeping her doors locked and hiding in her bed, hoping the days would quicken.

She hated it, she hated what she had become.

And she hated him.

--

She was out of bed by 5am, showered and dressed by 6.30, giving her an hour and a half to prepare herself, not just physically but mentally. She wanted nothing more than to get up and climb back into her bed but every time she blinked, there was Jamie, sitting on her eyelids, looking at her with sad, puppy-like eyes and every time, she stayed sitting on her couch, eyes planted firmly forward, staring at the clock. Her eyes looked empty yet broken and those were things she couldn't disguise, she just hoped that no one would see the lifeless look within her them.

The wait didn't seem to go painfully slowly. Time seemed to move quicker than the previous days, it didn't seemed to drag and make her want to take the large amount of pills in her bathroom cabinet. She hated that it would be the day were she had to go and face all that she had hid from, all that she had tried to forget. She knew that this was going to be hard, not just facing them but also going to Quentin's funeral, especially when she didn't seem capable of feeling any emotion, or even showing it. They were going to want to lean on her but who did she have to lean on?

When 7.30 rolled around, she couldn't stand the noise of the hands moving on the clock, tick, tock, so she got up and walked to her door. She stood in front of it for a bit, preparing, contemplating, trying to figure out how she would be when she saw all of their faces. Feeling an inkling of courage, she took a deep breath and opened her door, the fresh air hitting her face felt like a kick into reality. Was this real?

She walked to her car, looking over her shoulder every five seconds. When she finally got in her car, she made sure all the doors were locked and then leaned her head against the head rest, taking deep breaths.

Realizing that she had to do this, she started the engine and drown to Nathan and Haley's house. It took her about fifteen minutes to get there but she sat and waited in her car for another ten. It was 7.50 and she wasn't able to get out of the car, her body was rigid and felt like it was glued to the car seat. She was about to start the car again and go home when Haley came rushing out of the house.

"Brooke, Brooke," she called as she ran to the car, stopping at Brooke's side. "Brooke, don't go, come in, please," she begged.

Brooke turned to look at her and she gasped at the numerous bruises that adorned her face.

"Oh my god," she whispered as she scanned her face then she looked into her eyes, "What happened?"

"I fell down the stairs," Brooke answered as nonchalant as she could.

"You fell down the stairs? And what? Landed on someones fist?" Haley questioned and Brooke looked at her, blankly.

"I fell down the stairs, Haley," she repeated but she noticed that Haley didn't seem to believe her, "Honestly, I was doing laundry and as I was walking down the stairs, the basket fell and I tripped over the sheets," Brooke said in the most sincere voice she could muster up.

"Okay," Haley said and looked at Brooke skeptically, "Is that why you haven't been answering our calls?" She asked.

"Yeah," Brooke said, softly, "I didn't want you guys to see me like this," she continued and Haley nodded.

"Well, let's get you inside," Haley decided to change the subject, "Jamie's been dying to see his Aunt Brooke," she smiled and Brooke returned it slightly.

Haley noticed that it wasn't a Brooke Davis smile. It didn't have that radiance and electricity that seemed to light up a room. There was no show of her beautiful, white teeth and there was no trace or hint that she had a pair of the deepest, most amazing dimples.

Brooke got out of the car and they walked into the house, Brooke keeping a slight distance from Haley. They were about to walk into the living area but Brooke paused and Haley looked at her confused.

"Can I just have a minute, please?" Brooke asked.

"Sure," she paused, "Take as long as you like," She said as she walked into the living area.

Brooke leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath, trying to imagine, foresee what was going to happen when she walked into that room. She wanted to know the questions they would ask so she could prepare an answer and perfect it. She just hoped that once the questions were asked, she wouldn't break down and tell them everything. She just hoped she could stay strong.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly walked into the room, noticing that it went quiet as she did and everyone turned to look at her. Everyones eyes went wide with shock and worry as they saw the bruises on her face. It was a good job they couldn't see the ones on her body. She could see in their eyes that they wanted to rush over to her and ask what happened but they didn't. Haley must have told them she thought.

She walked further into the room and silently sat on the couch, everyones eyes still on her. She wished they would look away, find something else more interesting but they obviously had no hidden mind reading talent because they continued to stare at her.

"Brooke," Peyton said and she turned her head to look at her. "You okay?" She asked, hesitantly.

"Yeah," Brooke answered, her voice raspier than usual, "Just took a fall down the stairs," she stated and the lie almost made her want to throw up.

"Yeah, Haley told us," she looked at her with sad, concerned eyes, "I just wanted to ask myself," she paused, "God, look what happens when I leave town for a couple of days," she joked but Brooke looked at her confused.

"You were out of town?" She asked.

"Yeah," Peyton answered and gave a quick glance in Lucas' direction.

"Well, where did you go?" She asked, apprehensively, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Lucas and I went to Vegas," She paused slightly, "We're engaged."

Brooke looked at her, no expression on her face. She didn't know whether to scream or cry or laugh. While she was getting attacked in her store, wondering if anyone was going to help her, her friends were off to Las Vegas, just forgetting about her.

"Congratulations, Peyton, I'm happy for you," she said, the words coming out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"Thanks," Peyton said with a smile on her face.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Lucas staring at her intently, his beautiful, mesmerizing blue eyes scanning every inch of her face. She felt like he knew the truth, like he knew she didn't fall down the stairs and she was really brutally attacked three agonizingly long days ago. It was like he was the only one who could see the empty look in her eyes, the fakeness in her smile and the lies in her words.

She was about to turn and look at him, show him that she was telling the truth but Jamie came bouncing into the room.

"Aunt Brooke, Aunt Brooke," he chanted, "You came," he said and walked up to her.

"Of course I did," she smiled a real Brooke Davis smile.

"Momma said that you might not come because you haven't been feeling well but I knew you would, I knew that you would come," he rambled with a smile.

However, his smile fell when he saw the bruises on her face. A frown appeared on his little face and he looked at her with confused eyes. There wasn't pity behind his look, just genuine curiosity and concern and that is what she loved about that little boy. He was full of love and he shared it no matter what the circumstances.

His small hand reached out and gently brushed across her face. His touch was so light that she didn't wince or flinch. His hand felt soft and comforting against her injuries and his feathery tips felt like ice on her burning skin.

"What happened Aunt Brooke?" He asked, softly.

"I fell down the stairs, Jamie," she replied, the answer was automatic and it felt like she was on a broken record, just repeating the same thing over and over again.

"Down the stairs?" He asked and she nodded, "Did it hurt?"

"Only a bit," she choked and tried to hold back the tears, "Only a bit," she repeated, trying to convince herself as well as the small child in front of her.

"Did you have to put on the stingy cream?" He asked, innocently. "When I have a cut, Momma puts on this cream and it really hurts but she says that it will help it get better faster...did you have to put some on to make them better?"

"Yeah, I did," she answered him, a lump formed in her throat.

"So will they get better quicker?" He asked, his eyes wide with curiosity as his hand continued to touch her skin.

"Yeah they will, Jamie," she said and grabbed his hand, "The ones on the outside, anyway," she muttered under her breath.

"Jamie, honey, we have to get going now," Haley said and the two of them, Brooke and Jamie, looked up and noticed everyone was looking at them, some with tears in their eyes.

"Okay Momma," he walked over to Haley then paused and looked back at Brooke, "Are you coming to say goodbye to Q, Aunt Brooke?"

"Yeah, Jamie, I'm gunna be there," she said and gave him a small smile.

"I'm glad, Aunt Brooke...Momma said you'd be there for me but I'm gonna there for you, too," he smiled at her and went to walk off but stopped again and ran to Brooke, pulling her into a hug.

Brooke tensed at first, thinking that his tight hold would cause her pain but surprisingly, it only comforted her. He held onto her for a few minutes and small tears fell from her eyes. Everyone in the room watched their embrace, the sparkle of tears visible in every eye.

"I love you, Aunt Brooke," Jamie whispered into her ear.

Brooke had to grip the arm of the couch to stop herself from breaking down.

--

Brooke went to the cemetery in the car with Nathan, Haley and Jamie, by Jamie's request of course. It was weird, she had always been here for him but he was staying closer to her than usual. She didn't know if it was just his grieving process or that he saw her bruises and thought that he might have to say goodbye to Brooke, like he was saying goodbye to Quentin.

Quentin. She didn't know him that well, or at all really. All she knew was that he was a seventeen year old junior that attended Tree Hill High, who had a strong passion for basketball and had been shot dead two nights ago. It was sad, it really was but she wasn't able to show her sadness. She wasn't even able to share the grief of her friends and Jamie. She wished she could share their pain and grief but she couldn't, she was numb.

They got to the cemetery in less than twenty minutes, arriving at about 8.45 but they waited in the car as the funeral didn't start until 9am. Everyone in the car could feel the tension, even Jamie, who didn't dare speak incase they were mad at him.

"We should probably go over there now," Nathan said, softly, his hand caressing Haley's.

"Yeah," Haley agreed, "Come on, Jimmy Jam," she looked over at Jamie but his eyes were on Brooke, who was looking out the window with a faraway look on her face. "Jamie," she called, softly and he looked up.

"Yeah, Momma?"

"It's time to go over there, sweetie," she explained and motioned to where people were slowly gathering together.

"Okay," he said and then looked back at Brooke, "Come one, Aunt Brooke, time to go."

They all got out of the car and proceeded to walk over to where the service was taking place. Jamie ran to Brooke's side and latched his small hand onto hers, his other hand holding a small wooden box. She didn't ask him what was in it, she didn't dare speak. Any words that came out of her mouth would be incoherent and they wouldn't understand because she would be sobbing too hard. His tiny grip made her want to cry but she held back, knowing that she had to be there for him, not the other way around.

As they got to the large gathering of people who were surrounding the large, blue coffin, she felt a pair of eyes on her. Not just any eyes, those beautiful, mesmerizing ones that she had wanted to prove wrong earlier in the day. Brooke and Jamie stood together, listening as the priest described life and death and not being able to stay under his penetrative gaze anymore, she turned and looked at him, thinking he would look away when she did.

Despite her beliefs, his gaze stayed strong and his look never once wavered. He looked at her, not like the others were looking at her, he looked deep into her soul. Something she hated him for. He wasn't supposed to be able to do that anymore, he lost the right to do that.

She gave him a cold look and turned away from him, looking back at the priest, her hand subconsciously tightening on Jamie's.

"It's okay, Aunt Brooke, I miss him, too," Jamie said, his tone mature and gentle and she wondered if he was taking about Quentin or Lucas.

The service ended and everyone made their way back to their cars, their hearts heavy with grief.

Haley noticed Jamie wasn't by her side and she looked around, alarmed and frantic. She caught sight of her son, standing by Quentin's coffin and she breathed a sigh of relief. She was about to walk over to him when she noticed that Brooke had already made her way over.

There was no words exchanged between the two of them, there was only a comfortable silence that rested around them. Jamie put his small box on the ground and opened it, then pulled out a large, red cape. Each of his hands grabbed an end and slowly lifted it over the coffin.

Brooke looked on from his side and tried to understand how such a small, young boy could hold so much maturity and care in him. Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt his hand grasp hers. That was enough for Brooke and she began to silently sob, her body shaking slightly.

His hand loosened a little and the next thing she knew, his arms were wrapped around her waist. She shut her eyes tight when she heard him crying. His little crocodile tears soaked through her dress slightly. She looked down at him and noticed he was clinging to her, his body shaking, vibrating against hers. She looked up to see Haley and Nathan looking at them, sad expressions on their faces'. Haley motioned for her to come back to the car and she gently picked Jamie up, his arms wrapped around her neck and he buried his face into her shoulder.

They reached the car and all was silent as they climbed in. She strapped Jamie into his seat and grabbed hold of his hand, gently stroking it, letting him know that she was still there. As they pulled out of the cemetery she noticed Lucas' car still parked but only Peyton was sat in it. She looked around and saw him standing by a grave stone, one she knew to be Keith's. He turned his head and looked at her. His look was like a burning sensation and she flinched then turned away, not daring to look back. She wasn't allowed to look back, that would make her weak.

She wasn't allowed to be weak.

--

Nathan and Haley's house was unnaturally quiet, nobody was moving, the events of the day playing in their minds.

She wished someone would start a pointless conversation, the silence was letting her mind wander to places her heart wasn't ready to face. She needed a distraction, something to temporarily take her mind off the images that clouded her head, causing the stinging sensation in her eyes to rise again. She didn't want to cry, not now in front all of her friends.

Jamie had fallen asleep on the way home and was in bed. She wished she was able to sleep so peacefully but that wish seemed unattainable, especially with recent events. She looked to her left and saw Skillz, Haley and Nathan sitting in the kitchen, quietly talking about something she couldn't make out because their voices were hushed, like they didn't want anybody near to hear what they were talking about. Her head turned to her right slightly and her eyes landed on Peyton and Lucas, cuddling on the couch. Her jaw subconsciously clenched at the sight.

She was happy for her best friend, she was and she was over Lucas, so why did seeing them together cause a dull pain in her heart?

She knew that looking at them wouldn't make the ache go away but she couldn't seem to tear her eyes off them and just when she was about to turn her head, he looked up. He stared at her. It was weird, very weird. He was the only one she hadn't really spoke to and yet he seemed to be the one that understand what she was going through more than anyone else.

She sighed and peeled her eyes off them, her thoughts momentarily interrupted by the patter of little feet against the wooden floors.

"Momma, Momma," Jamie called and Haley rushed to him.

"What is it sweetheart?" She asked, her tone motherly and caring and she kneeled on the floor in front of him, so that she was eye level.

"I had a bad dream, Momma," he searched the room as if he were looking for someone and his eyes landed on Brooke. He brought his lips to Haley's ear, "It was about Aunt Brooke."

"Aunt Brooke?" Haley questioned and stole a quick glance in her direction, "Well, what was it about?" She asked, curiously.

"Me and Aunt Brooke..." Jamie began but was cut off.

"Aunt Brooke and I," Haley corrected.

"Momma..." Jamie complained and looked at his Mother with serious eyes, silently telling her that this dream was serious, at least to him.

Everyone else looked on curiously, especially Brooke. She had heard her name in the conversation and wondered what they were talking about. She hoped it was nothing too serious as she had heard Jamie tell Haley that he had a bad dream. She just hoped that she wasn't a part of his bad dream but something was telling her, screaming at her that she was the very main person in his bad dream and that scared her. It's probably nothing, she thought but her heart was telling her that it was definitely something.

"Sorry, baby, carry on," she said, concerned.

"There was a mean man, Momma...and he was hurting Aunt Brooke...and she was screaming, do you think someone hurt her, Momma?" Jamie asked, his eyes full of worry.

"No sweetie, you heard her yourself, she fell down the stairs," she said, reassuringly but the clench in her jaw and saddened eyes told a different story.

"Okay," he said and looked over at Brooke, "I was just really scared," he admitted.

"That's okay, honey," she stroked his cheek, softly, "Everyone gets scared sometimes."

"Really?" He said, surprised, "Everyone? Like you and Daddy?"

His little eyes went wide with shock when she nodded.

"Even me and your Daddy," she smiled.

"Woah," he went into thought as he digested the new information then his eyes grew sad, "Do you think Aunt Brooke is scared?"

"Yeah, baby, I do," she admitted and smiled sadly, "But your Aunt Brooke is strong, probably stronger than Daddy."

"Stronger than Daddy?" He half-yelled, his voice laced with surprise and shock; his eyes wide once again.

"I'll let you think about that one," she said and looked up at the clock, "It's getting late, buddy, time for bed," she announced and guided him out the room, her hand resting on his back.

Everyone watched them as they exited the room, curiosity getting to them as they tried to figure out what the hushed conversation was about. Unfortunately, they only heard certain parts of it, not enough to put together a conversation that made sense and yet, somehow within the space of two minutes every eye in the room subconsciously wandered to Brooke, somehow knowing that she was was the pinnacle of their conversation, the reason why Jamie came running in the room, scared out of his wits.

They just didn't want to think about why he was so scared.

--

Brooke went home soon after Jamie went to bed. He was the only reason that she went in the first place and to stay with all her friends while they all questioned her with their eyes was too much. She had to get out of there. She could feel the worry and concern radiating off them and while she was grateful, she didn't want it. She didn't want them to feel the need to keep an extra close eye on her or check on her more often because they saw a few bruises on her, she didn't want that at all, she wasn't their problem.

As she got into her house, she made sure that all the windows and doors were locked, so nothing was able to get in. She had to be sure that no one would be able to get in without her permission, she had to take that precaution. The attack was proof enough that those things did happen to people you know or even yourself, it wasn't just something you see on the news or in movies. It was real.

It was very real for her. She dreamed of it every night, had nightmares, none of them seemed to fade as the days passed either. She was beginning to think that they were going to be forever in her mind, haunting her until the day she dies. The thought alone was enough to make her want to curl up in a ball and cry until her eyes were red raw.

She walked into the kitchen and began to look for something to eat. She was in two minds whether to have a chicken sandwich or a chicken salad when there was a knock at the door.

She froze.

Knock. Knock.

The knocked again, slightly harder than the first time. She didn't know what to do. She didn't want to answer, the fear of what was on the other side preventing her form moving at all but she was with her friends today and she didn't feel like she could continue to ignore them.

She hesitantly walked to the door and paused, her hand hovering over the door knob.

"Brooke, it's Lucas," he said, still standing, waiting patiently, on the other side of the door.

She breathed a sigh a relief, glad that it wasn't someone that she didn't know but then reality hit her and she registered that it was Lucas. Lucas. Why did it have to be him? She unlocked then opened the door, revealing a very shy looking Lucas. She motioned for him to come in and then shut the door behind him.

They stood in the her living room, an awkward tension settling amongst them. She inhaled deeply and looked anywhere but at him, waiting for him to explain why he was at her house at this time of night, or at all really.

"How're you feeling?" He asked her and she looked at him in disbelief.

"How am I feeling?" She scoffed and he looked at her confused. "I'm great Lucas, really really great," she said sarcastically.

"I was just trying to be nice, Brooke," he defended and frowned.

"You wanna be nice?" She asked and he nodded but he had a feeling that this wasn't going to go as he had hoped, "Then leave."

There was a silence once she had said that and he looked at her, stared intently into her large brown orbs.

"Why are you being like this, Brooke?" He asked, "I just wanna help, okay? I'm your friend, let me help you," he pleaded, hoping she would see that he was only trying to help her.

"Friend?...Friends, Lucas? We have never been friends," she spat and he looked at her hurt and confused.

"Brooke..." he said, softly, trying to understand why she would say that.

"Get out, Lucas," she said, staring him dead in the eye.

He didn't move.

"I said get out, Lucas!" She demanded and went to the door, opening and holding it, signalling for him to leave.

"I just wanna help, Brooke," he admitted, his tone soft and caring.

"Then leave," she repeated, desperately needing him to leave before she caved.

"Okay," he said, defeated and walked towards the door but just as she was about to close it her turned around, "But just so you know, I've always been your friend. Always."

And if she wasn't to eager to get him out of her house, she would have heard him whisper the words Pretty Girl as he began to walk away.

She closed the door and locked it. She turned and leant against it then slowly slid down, placing her head in her hands, the tears dripping through the spaces of her fingers.

She never really learnt from her mistakes.

A/N: That's the first real chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. It hasn't really gotten into the story yet but don't worry I'll update soon (hopefully). Reviews are greatly appreciated, thanks.

- undiscoveredwriter23