So, YES! I am continuing this story! LOL How could I not? 30 reviews is pretty awesome! You guys are the best! I just hope I can do the first chapter justice by continuing. I have ideas mapped out for myself, and hopefully I don't disappoint! Unfortunately, I don't think it'll be a long story, but long enough to get the point across! :)

I am going to apologize for any mistakes in the chapter. My beta didn't go through it. I went through it a couple times, but I am human! LOL

I hope you enjoy….

It's been three weeks. Three weeks since that night with Brooke, and Lucas hasn't stopped thinking about it. Not only because of the impromptu sex he had with her, but because of the feelings it had conjured up from within him. How could it be that Brooke Davis still resides in his heart in a place where he thought only Peyton belonged? The dilemma he faced only a few weeks ago over who was the main girl in his heart faintly plays over and over in his head, and it gets even more confusing each time. Brooke was only a distant memory in those visions, and now he's fighting with himself over whether or not he made the right choice.

Peyton has noticed he's been acting different. He tries so hard to keep his concentration while he's around her, but the fact he's slept with her best friend keeps him from being the fiancé he knew he should be. She's trying, too. Trying to salvage the little bit of their relationship that he has reduced it to. She ignores him when he has a sudden outburst for no apparent reason; she keeps talking even though he remains silent and not interested; she cooks him dinner, even though he's been staying later and later at the school, using coaching as an excuse; she even tries to be intimate with him every night, even though every time he pushes her away.

Things will never be the same after this. He can't go on pretending like that night never happened, but he can't force himself to tell Peyton it has. It breaks his heart to see how dark her eyes have become, not just the color, but the bags beneath them as well. She's holding on for dear life, and he's pushing her away. Familiar words for different circumstances.

Sometimes he wonders if maybe this is how it would always be. He would forever be caught between Peyton and Brooke, because he could never really choose between the two. What was it about the brunette and blonde that had him constantly questioning his decision? Did one choice out-weigh the other, or were they interchangeable? And when would one of them finally cut the ties? Brooke had made the move way back in high school, but all severed ties had been reconnected on that night three weeks ago.

Brooke's not the same either. She's a shell of the person she once was. There's no cheery to his broody anymore. She's become so consumed with revenge; she can barely function. Lucas has taken it upon himself to go over to her house every day to make sure she has eaten, or even showered. Some days she doesn't leave her room, where she is constantly on her computer, doing what? Lucas could only guess, and all of his answers are something he doesn't even want to think Brooke is capable of doing. It's a struggle to get her to do the activities that are needed for living. A fight usually breaks out between the two, and sometimes Lucas is reduced to physically picking her up, and putting her in the shower. Or forcing a fork into her mouth, so she has some nutrition. He doesn't think she sleeps, either. At least the times he has snuck over there at night she wasn't sleeping. And those nights he would pick up her tiny, rigged frame, and carry her to bed, and make sure she is covered. He'll stay until he can hear her breathing even out, and become deeper, but sometimes he wonders if she's faking so he'll leave.

No one notices Brooke is different, either. Lucas hasn't told anyone about the attack. He thinks maybe he is being selfish by not sharing the information, because only he wants to be the one to save her. Part of him knows Brooke really doesn't want anyone to know. And another part of him knows that if he tells someone, they'll wonder why he's the only one who knows anyway. And if he has to face those questions, he's not sure he can lie about how he found out. Was it helping Brooke? Not at all. But he can do it. He can heal Brooke. He can keep the promise he made to her all those years ago. At least, he hopes he can.

Nathan and Haley have been too consumed with their psycho nanny coming back for Jamie, and the death of Quentin to pay attention to Brooke, but Lucas still somehow resents them for not noticing. He's even detached himself from them, but they didn't notice that either. No one wonders why Brooke hasn't left her house in three weeks, or why she has lost over ten pounds. And he wonders if maybe this is how it has always been. Has Brooke always been the forgotten friend? The fiercely independent friend that no one seems to notice, because she just seems so self-dependant? Yet, if they were all her friends, why wouldn't they notice something so drastic?

This is another reason why Lucas has been distancing himself from Peyton. The girl who claims to be Brooke's best friend. She goes to visit Brooke every so often, and sometimes Lucas wants to scream at her to really take a look at Brooke. But, he can't. Because then he would have to confess his infidelity. But, really, he wants to know how someone can claim to be someone's best friend, and not notice the turn for the worse that Brooke has taken.

Then he thinks maybe he is being self-righteous. How can he be mad at all of Brooke's friends, his friends, if he is guilty of the same thing? It took him a while to notice that the bruises that marked Brooke's body wasn't from a fall down the stairs. And it took him a bit longer to even get the courage to go and confront her about it. It got even worse when he remembered he had to sneak out of the house, to avoid Peyton's questions, to even go and see her.

So, instead of confronting anyone, Lucas pretends he's asleep until Peyton leaves in the morning. Something he has been doing for the past week. After she has left, he gets in the shower, and lets the tepid water run over his body. After he showers, he grabs a box of cereal, and some milk, because he knows Brooke doesn't have any, and gets into his car. The car ride is always silent. Music is a part of his life he is too afraid to let himself enjoy anymore. Almost as if he doesn't deserve it.

Brooke is staring at the screen of her laptop when he walks into her house. She doesn't even flinch at the noise anymore, because she knows now that it is always Lucas. No matter how hard she tries to get him to leave her alone, he stubbornly keeps coming to her house to try and take care of her.

"What are you looking at today, Brooke?" He questions, and she ignores him. The same routine every time he shows up. "Are you going to talk to me today?"

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" She shoots back at him.

"I should be," he says, bitterness lacing his words. "Instead, I come here to make sure you've eaten and gotten cleaned up." He's tried being nice, and coddling her, but she didn't respond. He's tried being straightforward, and honest, that had no effect. Now, he's trying tough love. But, it's having the same effect as the others.

Brooke rolls her eyes, "just leave, Lucas. I don't need your help."

"You can't even function, Brooke," he retorts.

"I function just fine," she responds. He's getting irritated because she hasn't taken her eyes from the screen since he's arrived. It's been three weeks since he's even been able to look into her eyes.

"Brooke, please, come eat," he pleads, taking on a softer tone. "I've got your favorite cereal," he tries to lure her.

"Not hungry," she responds, still blankly staring at the screen.

"What are you looking up?" He questions, again.

"None of your business," she responds. He's tried to sneak up behind her, and peer over her shoulder to get a look, but every time she notices and turns away.

"Come eat."

"No."

"Brooke."

"Lucas."

"You want me to bring it in there?" He asks, trying to accommodate her. He never could be really tough with her.

"Nope."

"Brooke, please come eat something. You probably haven't eaten since the last time I made you eat." He's concerned, but she doesn't care. She's stopped caring about everything, except taking her mother down.

"Not hungry," she speaks, totally void of emotion. "Go to work."

"Fine," Lucas huffs, and stands. Brooke feels relieved. It usually takes him a lot longer than that to give up. Maybe he's starting to get worn. "You force me to do this."

"Do what?" Brooke finally looks up from the screen. He's walking towards her, bowl in hand. "No, don't, Lucas."

"I wouldn't, if I didn't have to," he sighs. "Open up."

"No," she shakes her head. She feels ridiculous when he feeds her. Part of her gets embarrassed and just gives in to him so he'll leave her alone.

"I'm not leaving until you eat this, now open up, Brooke," he demands.

She huffs, but opens her mouth, and he shoves the spoon into her mouth. She can't help but think that this is the most absurd thing she's ever experienced. Who cares if she's not hungry? Who was he to try and force her to do something she just doesn't want to do? He brings another spoonful of food up to her mouth.

"Ugh, just give it to me," she groans, and grabs the spoon from him. He sets the bowl of cereal next to her, and then sits down. He would, of course, stay and watch her eat all of it.

After she's done, he takes the bowl and puts it in the sink, reminding himself to come and do her dishes later. He goes up to her room, and grabs some matching clothes for her to put on, after he's forced her to take a shower. He grabs the clothes he set out yesterday, and puts them in the hamper. They weren't dirty, but he feels more important if he has some laundry to do for her. He even gets her toothbrush out, and puts toothpaste on it, so she'll remember to brush her teeth. He sets out her make-up bag, hoping that maybe today is the day she'll finally be a tiny part of her former self, and do something to make herself feel better.

"I've got everything set out for you," Lucas informs her. "Get in the shower, Brooke. Whatever you're looking at will be there when you get done."

"Whatever," she brushes him off.

"I'll be back later."

"Whatever," she sighs. And when the front door finally slams shut, Brooke rolls her eyes, and continues to scroll through the website she is looking at.

A couple hours later, while Brooke is still scanning through pages and pages of web documents, she feels an unwanted familiar sensation in her lower belly. Her insides feel like they are being squeezed, and wrenched in every direction. A lonely tear forms in her eye, as she realizes what that means. She heads up to the bathroom, and lets a few more tears fall when she pulls down her underwear and sees the unwanted red spot. It means she's not pregnant. It means that night with Lucas was for nothing. It means she will have to do it again.

She kicks her shorts and underwear to the floor, and goes over to the shower. The water is hotter than what she normally has, but it's relieving to her tense muscles. She can feel all of the dirt and grime flowing down her body as she stands under the steady stream. She doesn't feel disgusting until she's in the shower, cleaning up.

After she's finished in the shower, she puts on the clothes Lucas has laid out, if anything so he'll keep his mouth shut about it. It's getting dark by the time she's done, and she figures it was probably pointless to go through all of it anyway. Her couch isn't as comfortable as she's remembered it to be. Maybe because the spot she's sitting in has been used so much lately, the cushion has been worn out.

As the sun sets, the darkness begins to fall, and her body starts to get tense. The darkness is the worst. She's afraid of what is lurking in the shadows. But tonight, she just feels empty. The life she has hoped to be growing inside of her wasn't there. It was empty. Nothing but tissue being excreted from her body.

Tears start freely flowing down her face. Everything from the past three weeks she has been working towards would all now have to be pushed back another month because she was unable to conceive Lucas' child. Maybe it's a sign. It couldn't be, though. Lucas, was/is the only man she could ever imagine having a child with. Even if having his child meant not having him in her life. She's okay with that. She doesn't want him in her life. Just his child. A child she could call her own, and love unconditionally.

Her emaciated frame is shaking from sobs as Lucas enters. It's dark in the living room, but he knows where she is, because it's the same spot he always finds her in. Never before has she been crying, though. She's made a point to show no emotion at all. He rushes to her side, and puts an arm around her shoulder. And shockingly, she leans against him, and uses his shirt to dry her tears.

"Brooke, what's the matter? Did something happen?" He whispers.

"No," she shakes her head.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?" He pleads. She shakes her head again. He holds her tighter, not knowing what to do. What's wrong with his Brooke? What happened in that attack that made her this way? He sighs, wondering if he would ever find the answers to his questions. "At least you got dressed," he tries to joke, although, even he doesn't see the humor in the situation.

"Why did it have to be me?" She speaks, and Lucas is shocked.

"Wh-what?" He stutters, because he's not sure if he's supposed to answer. Because she hasn't spoken any words towards him since that night three weeks ago that weren't some kind of rejection.

"Why is it always me, Lucas?" She cries into his shirt. Her body is trembling, and Lucas is holding her so tight, trying to stop it, that he thinks he might suffocate her.

"It's going to be okay, Brooke," he whispers, and starts to rock her back and forth. "You're going to be okay."

"No, it's not," her voice breaks as she speaks through her tears. And Lucas is once again reminded of that night back in high school when he forgave her for sleeping with Chris. "Why me, Lucas? Why?"

Brooke's not sure why she's speaking. She just knows that when she discovered she had gotten her period earlier, all hopes she held for the past three weeks had diminished. All the hopes that only a precious child could bring someone, faded into thin air. The promise of nurturing a child within her womb seeped from her body, just as the liquid that informed her she was without child.

"Brooke, shh, it's okay. I'm here. I'm always going to be here for you, shhh," Lucas tries to comfort her.

He pulls her into his lap, and she wraps her arms around his neck, and nuzzles her face into his neck. He continues to rock her back and forth as sobs escape her mouth. She's clinging onto the back of his shirt with her hands, as if he's going to vanish into thin air as well. And he's wrapped his arms securely around her waist, wishing he could take away whatever pain she is feeling.

It's two hours before she finally calms down. He's sat there, holding onto her tightly the whole time, rocking her back and forth, whispering comforting words into her ear. He's relieved when her sobbing finally quits, because he's not sure how much longer he could have taken hearing her cry like that. He doesn't stop rocking as she calms. Not until he feels her chest rising and dropping rhythmically against him, and he knows she's asleep. He carries her to her room then, and places her onto the bed. He's careful when he removes her jeans, leaving her only in her t-shirt, so he doesn't wake her. After he's pulled the blanket up to her chin, he sits next to her on the bed, and starts to rub her forehead.

"What's happened to you, pretty girl?" He questions. He lets out a deep sigh, before leaning over to kiss her forehead. He doesn't want to leave, but he has to. He turns a nightlight on before he leaves the room, because he knows if she wakes up in pure darkness, she'll get scared.

Lucas does the dishes and some of laundry before he heads home. Peyton is waiting for him at the kitchen table, an elaborate meal set up before her. He draws in a deep breath, and shuts his eyes for a moment.

"Where have you been, Lucas?" She questions.

"I was at-"

"Don't say you were at the school, Lucas," she cuts him off, not wanting to hear any more lies from him. "I called there earlier for you, and you weren't there. So I thought maybe you left early. And I made this big dinner for you. For us. So we could have some time together. And you don't come home until now?"

"Peyton, I'm not in the mood," he warns her. But what he really means, is that he doesn't want to explain where he's been.

"I don't care if you're in the mood or not, Lucas," she says point blank. "Where have you been? Are you cheating on me?"

"Peyton," he says, his voice warning her to stop. To leave it alone.

"What am I supposed to think, Lucas?" She asks, tears evident in her voice. "You don't talk to me anymore. You are staying late at work, and tonight, you don't even come straight home from work, until now."

Lucas softens. She has a point. He is the problem in their relationship. And she's crying. He hates when she cries. "Peyton, I just-" he sighs, "I have a lot going on right now, okay?"

"Like what?" She asks, her voice practically begging him to tell her. "I want to know. I want to know everything that goes on with you, Lucas."

"I can't explain it right now," he shakes his head. Tears are falling fast from her eyes as she watches her fiancé slip from her fingertips. And Lucas feels so horrible, so guilty for neglecting Peyton these last three weeks. He had promised to marry her. He intends on marrying her. But, then why can't he shake the brunette's image from his head?

"Lucas," she cries. "I need you to tell me something. Anything. I feel like you're pulling away from me."

"It's not that, Peyton," he tries to assure her. "It's not that. I just-ugh,-I just-I'm dealing with this student that's kind of a hand full, and he just has so much potential. And, he's just-he's kind of like Quentin." He's surprised at how easy it is to lie to her. How easy the words roll off his tongue, as if they were the truth.

"Why couldn't you just tell me?" She asks, her tears starting to cease. "I've been so worried that you found someone else. That you didn't want to marry me anymore."

"No, no," he shakes his head, wincing as he does so. He hates himself for doing this to her. But, someone has to take care of Brooke, and she is too blind to see what is right in front of her.

She's relieved, so she gets up from her chair and wraps her arms around his neck. And he hugs her back, but he can't help but notice that her bony frame isn't as comfortable as Brooke's comfortable frame. That Peyton's legs and arms are a little too long for him to hold the same way he is able to hold Brooke. He's caught off guard by her lips pressing hard against his. And he wants to pull back, because it just doesn't feel right, but he can't. He can't force himself to break her heart anymore. So he lets her keep going, pulling him into their bedroom.