Disclaimer: I do not, as much as I wish I did, own OTH or any of the songs in this story. All I own is the plot of the story, and I barely own that.
AN: Brooke's memory is completely made up, but it's necessary for the story later.
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Chapter 5: Between The Lines
Peyton groaned at the sound of her cell phone ringing, Crazy Bitch blaring through the small speaker, and she smiled as she reached over and hit the talk button, "Hey, best friend. Don't you think it's a little early to be calling the poor, tired pregnant woman?"
Brooke erupted with laughter and Peyton could almost see her friend's contagious smile, "First of all, Peyton Marie Sawyer, it's 10:27 AM. Secondly, 'poor, tired pregnant woman,' really?" Peyton burst into laughter at Brooke's mocking tone, "I'm not buying it P. Sawyer – soon to be P. Scott." Peyton rolled her eyes with a slight smile, imagining that she could actually see her best friend's eyebrow rise in true Brooke Davis fashion. "In a few months you will gain complete use of the pregnancy card, but until then, you're just another whiney girl with a 'damsel in distress' complex…" The laughter in Brooke's voice died, and for a second neither girl spoke, each lost in her own thoughts.
Peyton frowned, her mind quickly calling upon recycled images of both her mothers, Anna and Elizabeth, and the way they died; of Ian, the man whose obsession with the former cheerleader was ultimately his downfall, as well as hers; and of Jimmy, the victim in the guise of a villain, whose pain continued to grow until it spilled over in the form of a school shooting.
Brooke's eyes glazed over slightly as several of her harshest realities came crashing down around her; the reason she had originally called Peyton completely forgotten.
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Brooke tilted her head, the muscles in her neck aching painfully, and slowly sank to her knees before the small tombstone. If she looked to her right, she could see row after row of stones, each in different shapes and sizes, but each and every one had a common meaning; death. To her left, more rows of stones laid, and yet she only saw one. Tears of anger and hate filled her tear ducts, but she didn't let them fall; even as she read the name "Dan Scott," she held her tears at bay.
It had only be two days since 'Clothes Over Bros' was robbed, and the bruises had yet to fade from the face that once signified pure beauty and love. Her eyes were nearly swelled completely shut, and the cut on her lip had grown worse from her constantly gnawing on it. Her entire body still ached with every movement, and it took all that she had within her to keep from falling apart because she wouldn't allow herself to cry; she couldn't. Until that morning she had refused to look at herself in the mirror, the handprints on her arms and legs, coupled with the horrible splotches on her stomach and thighs, made it too clear to her that what she would see staring back at her would not be the girl she had seen mere days before. After she had finally gotten the courage to look at herself, she noticed that the usually bright and vibrant color of her eyes seemed darker, and she couldn't help but wonder if her ability to love died the day her innocence did.
Brooke looked away from Dan's grave, knowing that as much as she hated him and that as much as she wished that she could pretend it was he that lied in this shallow grave, it wasn't. Staring straight ahead, her eyes filled with tears again, tears of loss and grief, and she dropped her head, unable to stare at Keith's grave any longer.
"I don't know what to do anymore, Keith." Her voice broke and she found herself staring at his name on the stone, picturing his wedding to Karen and her own wedding, him giving her away to the man she loved, "In the short time that you were here, when I was off getting Lucas drunk and tattooed, I began to see you as a father, and my entire world broke when you left. Keith, it's breaking again…but this time, it's me that's dead."
Silence.
"I can still feel pain and loss and hate, but I feel numb to everything else. Angie's gone, and I hate them for taking her from me; God, I loved her so much. And Peyton and Lucas are engaged; the girl I love is finally marrying the boy I love, and I don't feel an ounce of happiness for them." Her eyes were downcast, and her voice dipped to nothing but a whisper, "I hate them…for being together, and for being happy. I know that's wrong, but I don't know how to not feel this way."
The sound of footsteps approaching caught Brooke's attention; her entire body froze, fear eating away at her, leaving her numb and immobile. She jumped and wrapped her arms tightly around her knees as the steps got nearer to her. The person stopped walking, and Brooke turned her eyes toward him, and her resolve broke, as did the dam that held her tears in place.
"Jake?"
The tears fell down her cheeks, warming them, as he scooped her into his arms, "I came as soon as I got your call, Brooke. I'll stay as long as you need me."
Brooke's entire body shook with her sobs and she clung to Jake as if her life depended on it, and in some small way, it did. He stood there, holding her in his arms for what felt like hours, sometimes crying with her, other times merely letting her cry.
After a while, her sobs turned into whimpers, and then were gone altogether. Jake sat back down where she'd been sitting when he arrived and lowered himself to the ground as well, "Have you been to see the police?"
Brooke looked at him for a minute as if she had forgotten he was there, "No," she shook her head, "The press would eat this stuff up, and um…I don't think I could handle all the paparazzi." Her voice was colder than he'd ever heard it, and it pained him to see her so broken, "You can go home, Jake. I shouldn't have called."
"I'm not going home until you want me to go home. You are my biggest concern right now."
Brooke shook her head and stood up, "Go home, Jake. It's what I want."
They stared at each other for what felt like minutes before he nodded and started walking toward his car. Jake stopped and turned his head toward her, "Brooke…I still…"
She smiled, her lip beginning to ache, "I know."
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Peyton pulled herself out of her depressing thoughts and whined playfully, "But, Brookie, I'm still soooo tired."
Brooke laughed humorlessly and brought her hand to her right cheek, picturing every bruise the way it was the day she last saw Jake Jagielski.
Peyton grinned and sat up in the bed she shared with Lucas, who at this moment in time was at Tric discussing the ending of his movie with Reese the eccentric director who seemed to have some crazy vision for every scene in the movie, "So, miss Davis, not that I mind getting a call from my best friend, but did you need something?"
Brooke frowned, unsure of how to breech the subject of Julian's proposal, "I need some advice, but I'm not really sure how to bring it up."
Peyton frowned at the serious tone in her friend's voice, "You can tell me anything; you should know that."
"Um, okay. Well, Julian asked me to marry him the other night," Brooke exhaled sharply, waiting for some sort of reaction. When none came, she began to worry, "Peyt, you there?"
Peyton blinked repeatedly, something akin to grief filling her heart, much to her confusion, "Yeah, I'm still here…Wow. That's…that's great, Brooke."
Brooke frowned, noticing the strange way that her best friend spoke, "Actually, I told him I couldn't…Peyt, do you think I made the right decision?"
"Yeah, I think you did." Brooke frowned at Peyton's short and concise answer, "You can't rush things like marriage, Brooke."
Brooke's eyes widened and a laugh broke through her lips, shocking both Peyton and herself.
Peyton frowned, confusion marring her brow, "Did you just laugh at me?"
"I'm sorry; it's just…never mind."
Peyton shook her head, suddenly angry at the dismissive tone in her friend's voice, "No. Tell me; why was that funny."
Brooke frowned and rolled her eyes, "You just told me that 'you can't rush things like marriage.'"
"Yeah, and?"
"Well look at yourself, Peyton. You're engaged to Lucas; in fact, you got engaged to Lucas two days after he told you he hated you and you ruined his life. Have you two even talked about all the stuff that happened? Have you asked him how he was able to say 'I do' to Lindsey when you both knew it should have been you up there? Have you?" Peyton glared down at the bedspread as she listened to Brooke's words. Brooke frowned at her own words, and suddenly telling the truth didn't seem like that great of an idea.
"You know what, Brooke; maybe you should focus more on your dying relationship and less on our thriving one."
Brooke's jaw dropped at Peyton's harsh tone, "I didn't mean to…I was just trying to point out the irony in your words; I'm sorry if my mouth got ahead of my head for a second there…Peyt?"
"You know what, mind your own business," and with that, she hung up the phone, leaving Brooke staring at the silent phone, wondering where it all went wrong.
TBC…
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AN: Hey guys it took me forever to write this, but I promised a chapter this weekend, so here it is. Sorry for any mistakes, I haven't proofread it yet. If you notice any mistakes, feel free to point them out so that I can go back and revise this. Thanks guys! As always, review!!
