Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. Thank you to everyone who took the time to tell me what especially they liked and what they didn't like. Hm...People might be dissappointed by this chapter tho I think it's an essential one for the rest of the story. It's also essential to me for the characters.

Thank you Tej for your help and assurance. This was a hard chapter to write and you gave me the confidence to post this.

Thank you Sarah for being just Sarah. You are crazy and I am crazy and together we keep each other sane.

This chapter takes off right where we left B/L last time. In bed. wiggles eyebrows

Disclaimer: I don't own them, so don't sue. I own neither the quotes in this chapter nor any of the characters, except Ellie who you guys haven't seen much of lol.

on to the real stuff...

8. Awakening

"I slept with faith and found a corpse in my arms on awakening; I drank and danced all night with doubt and found her a virgin in the morning."

- Aleister Crowley

Afterwards they found themselves entangled on the king size bed. Lucas lay quietly, Brooke in his arms, eyes on the ceiling. He loved her. He wanted to protect her, with all his might, wishing he could be the one to save her. Even if it was just for one night. Even if it was just for a few moments.

Brooke couldn't bring herself to pull away. She couldn't bring herself to face reality. Not yet. She couldn't allow herself to think about consequences, about what they had done. What she had done. For the moment, she just needed to be held and feel safe again. It would have to last a lifetime.

Because rescue was just an illusion.

Lucas was abruptly pulled out of his thoughts when Brooke left his embrace wordlessly, got off the bed and went over to his dresser.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm cold. I need a shirt," she stated simply.

When she opened the top drawer, something caught her sight. She put a hand over her mouth, trying to suppress the tears welling up. Then she told herself to get it together. She turned around, walking briskly around the room, gathering her clothes, putting them on in a hurry. Lucas sat up on the bed, deeply confused.

"Brooke?" She wouldn't look him in the eye. "What's wrong?"

She let out an icy laugh. "You ask me what's wrong? Gosh Lucas, what do you think is wrong?"

"Brooke-"

"Where the fuck is my bra!" She exploded. She stood in the middle of his room, in nothing but black lace panties and looked as if she was going to break down.

He got up and put his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to soothe her.

"Brooke, wait. Let's talk about this. Let's talk about us."

"There is no us," she spat, "This was just sex."

"Brooke, you know that's not true. I lo-"

She got into his face, eyes glistening with resentment. "Don't. Don't you dare say that to me right now. You cannot make this right. Nothing is ever going to make this right."

Then her whole body, tense with anger, grew limp within moments and she looked small and vulnerable again. Defeated. The guilt weighing on her shoulders. Lucas felt as if he was going to choke.

"You made me the other woman," her voice was incredulous, as if she was amazed by herself, "and I let you." Then she grabbed her dress from the floor and put it on. Making her way to the door, her shoes in her hand, Lucas tried one last time to stop her.

"Brooke-"He reached for her arm.

She turned around. Her hair was a mess and so were her clothes. She felt dirty and she was ashamed. But the worst part of it was that she couldn't bring herself to hate the man staring back at her.

"Lucas, you can't rescue me, okay? You and I... There are some things you just can't fix. And I can't rescue you."

He stood there; completely naked, looking like a lost boy. When she saw the pain in his eyes, she almost felt sorry for him, which in turn made her anger flare up again.

How come Lucas Scott was always the victim in the scenario? She looked back at the object on the dresser, grabbed it and shoved it into his hands.

"Are you honestly going to tell me that you don't love Ellie and your family? Or that you would leave Peyton?"

He stared at the picture frame in his hands. Three happy faces were beaming up at him. His wife and daughter at his side. His family. Lucas didn't say anything.

"That's what I thought."

Lucas looked up again, surprised to hear a softer tone in her voice and to find welling up in her eyes.

"Goodbye, Lucas."

And with that she left. And for the first time in ten years Lucas Scott cried for a love long lost.

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When Peyton heard the front door close, she opened her eyes. A short glance at the clock on her bedside table told her that it was 5.16 a.m. and the empty space she could feel beside her betrayed that her husband had just come home. She turned around in the big, spacious bed, away from his vacant pillow and let out a sigh.

Then the silence engulfed her again and she was able to hear his tired footsteps trotting up the staircase; but instead of turning right towards the master bedroom, they took a turn to the left and grew quieter again.

For a good fifteen minutes, Peyton just lay there, debating whether she should get up or not. She just lay there until the screaming of the empty space behind her got too loud, too hard to deny in the grey morning light. Wrapping a bathrobe around her tall figure she stepped out of her bedroom, her feet silent on the cool wooden floor.

Lucas watched his daughter sleep. The blinds were still drawn but a little morning light was filtering through, so he could make out her features and see the motives on her pyjamas. It was a Sesame Street one. The sight almost made him cry.

The nights were warm and so Ellie had fought herself free from the sheets which were now a crumpled heap at the foot of her bed. Soft, damp strawberry blonde hair clung to her forehead, unruly like her mother's.

He took a step closer so he could watch the rising and falling of her chest. He remembered the days after she had been born when he had watched her every night, finding comfort in watching that round flanel clad baby body, breathing so steadily.

She looked so peaceful, so content. He wished he could dive into that bliss of ignorance again. Ellie didn't regret, Ellie didn't hold remorse. She loved just as openly as she disliked, and for her, nothing was pretence. Everything was easy even as she wore her heart on her sleeve. Her world still consisted of black and white and no awful grey shades and Lucas envied her for that.

He didn't hear her. He just stood there, with his back to the door, watching his daughter sleep. The picture was a happy one and yet Peyton couldn't smile. Even that early in the morning the house was fairly warm but she shivered and pulled her robe tighter around her.

There was something about his slumped posture and the fact that he had been gone all night. And then she knew.

Later she would wonder if maybe she had known all along. Because it really didn't come as that much of a shock.

"Lucas."

He jerked, ripped out of his stupor by her voice. He turned around, forcing himself to smile. She was a beautiful woman. Even at five in the morning, with no make up on and just in an old bathrobe; Peyton Sawyer was still beautiful in an ethereal, gossamer way. It was not only in her looks but also in the way she held herself, the way she laughed. It made her beautiful but to Lucas, it also made her elusive.

He stepped out of his daughter's room and quietly closed the door behind him.

"Hey." Peyton just gave him a look and headed downstairs. Lucas followed her. "I'm sorry Peyton," he let out a nervous laugh. "It got really late last night and I didn't want to wake you so I just…"

They had walked into the kitchen and she turned around, her face a mask.

"I know, Lucas."

He was stunned. "What?"

"I know." She pulled open a drawer, eerily composed and set out to make coffee. When she spoke again, the words cut the silence like a knife. He wasn't able to pinpoint the emotion in her voice. Whatever it was, it wasn't really anger.

"I know where you were last night and-" she switched on the coffee machine with one hand while the other held on to the countertop. Her knuckles turned white. "- I know who you were with."

Her voice wavered slightly but with her back turned towards him, he couldn't read her face.

"Peyton, I'm so sorry…"

"Yeah." It was as much a word as it was a sigh.

"Listen…"

"No, Lucas. You listen." She was breathing heavily but she did not turn around. "I want you to be honest. Just this once. Can you do that?"

He swallowed. "Yes." It was merely a whisper.

"Do you love me?" 'No pretence, just answer, please.' He heard the silent prayer behind her words. It was not a begging for pity it was an informal question.

Yes.

He loved her. And she was his family. A part of his heart would always belong to Peyton.

"You know that."

Hidden from Lucas' stare, Peyton let silent tears run down her cheeks. She cried because she was relieved and she cried because she was ashamed and hurt.

And she cried also because she loved him.

Upstairs lay their daughter and here, downstairs, she had to make a decision. To keep her family together, swallow her pride and forgive him or to send him away.

But he had said he loved her. You know that, he had said. And yes, she knew. She knew alright.

"Good." Her shoulders fell down an inch. "Was that the only time?"

"Yes." Lucas felt lump in his throat grew heavier.

"Is it gonna happen again?"

"No." The word pressed through his vocal chords, came out somewhat strangled and reverberated coarsely against his skull.

She just had to know one more thing.

"Is it…" Peyton drew a deep breath. "…is it over?"

There was only one answer to this question.

"Yes."

It hung above their heads like a verdict. Of what kind, Lucas didn't know.

She knew he was being honest. And she knew enough. Peyton had made up her mind all those years ago and she was no fool. She had known and had willingly chosen this path. She was not going to leave it now.

"Can you pick up Ellie from school today? I got a 3 o'clock appointment with a client."

He was flabbergasted, had himself prepared for a big blow. Her voice, so business as usual, caught him off guard. "Peyton, shouldn't we be talking about this-"

"You're still my husband, Lucas. And we're still a family." That's it.

She said it so matter-of-factly and once she'd spoken the words she knew she meant them. And she knew they'd be okay. Not now, but some time.

They stood there for a moment, silently. Then she brushed past him, towards the bathroom, to wash away the tears she didn't want him to see. He watched her from behind as she walked straight-backed, head high like a queen.

When she came back, she poured him a cup of coffee and they sat together at the kitchen table and Lucas Scott realized with relief that even if he had lost something that night; this morning there still was a thing called redemption.

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t.b.c.