A/N: First of all, some people asked about why Margaret's last name is Sawyer instead of Mitchell, and that's basically I always saw myself explaining in the next few chapters, but in case I forget, it's something that Drew wanted.

Also, let it be known that all wedding traditions are different. But from my own family traditions, it goes: dinner, toasts, first dance. And that happened to work out perfectly for my fic so I stuck with it.

Now go enjoy this update! It's not beta'ed because my beta is MIA. Next update will be out…soon enough :D Oh and review! Because reviews are made of love, and I always could use some of that lol.

Disclaimer: I don't own OTH.

Chapter Thirteen: Déjà vu

There is a common belief that nothing can ever really happen twice. Matter is constantly moving, shifting, dying. Every step you take is another step in a new direction. And while one can try his or her best to repeat past steps, they can never do it.

Sometimes we come close though. Sometimes matter realigns, following the pattern laid out days, weeks or months beforehand, and we have the strongest sense that we've been here and done this before. The French call it paramecia, the experience of feeling sure one has witnessed or experienced a new situation previously.

We call it déjà vu, the French words for "already seen."

--

It was like stepping into a time capsule. That was the first thought that passed through Lucas Scott's head as he and his wife stepped outside the Tree Hill airport for the first time in over seven years. The atmosphere surrounding them felt as though it had been stapled down since they left, compressing the inhabitants into a lair of nothing but blue skies and smiles. He felt his own smile drawn to the surface.

"Come on, Lucas," Lindsey said, tugging his sleeve, "We need to get checked in before the ceremony."

His smile faded slightly at her words. He realized he was just visiting, that this was no longer his home. He watched his wife climb into the driver's seat of their rented car, giving him an expectant look once she was settled in. He took a deep breath.

"Welcome home," he murmured to himself.

--

"This was a mistake!"

"Oh God," Peyton sighed, plopping down on the nearest chair.

"What the hell was I thinking? I'm too young to get married-"

"Brooke, you're twenty-eight. Twelve years older than I was when I got married," Haley said, gently rubbing Brooke's back.

"You don't count. You and Nathan have a freakish marriage," Brooke said as she threw down her veil, the material crinkled from her ringing hands.

"I got married at twenty-three," Peyton charmed in.

"Yeah but you pulled a Cameron and married a dying guy. You cheated."

"Ouch," Peyton said, taking Brooke's veil from the table and straightening it out.

"You know I'm right."

"And you know you're being stupid. Owen loves you. You guys are meant to be together."

"Oh yeah?" Brooke stopped mid pace to face Peyton, "Are you sure about that? Because I don't know. Every time I think I meant to be with a guy it turns out I'm just fooling myself. Lucas. Felix. Chase. All of them!"

"Don't forget Lucas should be on their twice," Haley piped in.

Peyton gaped at Haley. "Dude…"

"Yes!" Brooke answered, "He's on their twice! And it's all your fault, Peyton! If your stupid car had never broken down then you and I would have never met him, and we'd be happy!"

"If by happy you mean, you'd be married to some old rich dude who didn't give two shits about you and I would be married to Nathan, then yeah we'd be having a ball."

"Exactly!"

"I think that's my cue to exit," Haley said as she slowly slipped out of the room, throwing an apologetic glance at Peyton on the way.

"Brooke…" Peyton said, when it was finally just the two of them.

"What?" Brooke snapped.

"Does Owen make you happy?"

"Yes…but that's beside the—"

"Can you imagine yourself spending the rest of your life with anyone else?"

"No," Brooke said softly.

"Then trust in this."

Brooke sighed, collapsing on the chair next to Peyton, her poofy white dress making it appear as though she was surrounding by clouds.

"Everyone I've ever trusted has let me down."

"That's the story of life, kiddo," Peyton said, throwing an arm over Brooke's shoulders, "But you can't let it get to you. People are going to let you down, but it's the Owens of this world who make it worth it."

Brooke laid her head on Peyton's shoulder, just like she had done so many times before and whispered, "I'm scared."

"Everyone's nervous on their wedding day," Peyton chuckled, "Even I was, and I knew this wasn't a lifelong commitment."

"About that…I'm sorry I made fun of your marriage."

"You were only telling the truth."

"Yeah, but I know that marriage meant more to you than I made it seem."

"I loved Drew as much as I possibly could, given the circumstances," Peyton said, "And I think that's what marriage is about, Brooke; committing yourself to someone because they are exactly what you need, and you're willing to be the same for them."

"You're so poetic."

"Is that sarcasm?"

"No," Brooke laughed, taking the veil from Peyton's hands and placing it on her head, "I was being honest. I'm really glad you're giving a speech at the reception. You're very convincing."

"No one needs to be convinced that you and Owen love each other."

"There you go again…"

"Shut up and get your shoes on."

"Yes ma'am."

--

Stepping into St. Peter's Chapel took all the strength Lucas Scott had left in him. This church held so many memories, good and bad. Eight years ago he had stood in this very spot and swore to God and all his friends that he would love honor and cherish Lindsey above all others until the end of time.

Basically, he had lied, and he was so sure that if he stepped back in there, the walls would cave in upon his sinful soul. But the first few shaky steps proved to be a piece of cake compared to the barrage of hugs his mother and Lily forced upon, almost leading to another heart attack. He had missed them so much, and seeing Lily grown and in Tree Hill made his heart ache. He had seen his sister plenty of time since he moved. She had visited him in New York with his mother, and sometimes Lindsey and he had went on the yacht with Andy and them. But this…this was different. This was how it should have been every day. He spared a glance at Lindsey over Lily's shoulder. She was trying her best to make conversation with Karen, but it was stilted, like always.

Lucas knew that a large part of the reason for that was Karen's relationship with Peyton. Before Peyton and Lucas had broken up, Karen and Lily had made quite a few trips out to L.A. to visit her. Lily was only a baby, two years old at the most, but Peyton had bonded with her, and as a result, so to had Karen. When Lucas had moved to New York, Haley had let it mention quite a few times that Karen was still in contact with Peyton. Lucas knew that Karen would never get over the fact that it was Lindsey, not Peyton, who she had to call daughter-in-law.

"Lucas," Karen said, disrupting his trance.

"Yeah?"

Karen opened her mouth to say something, but stopped, pausing as if to mull over her words. She wanted to tell him about Peyton, warn him of the things she kept from him. The things that they had guarded to keep him and Peyton happy. But in her heart, she couldn't do it and so she opted to let him discover it on his own, "You should sit down. The wedding's about to start."

Lucas nodded, taking his place at the end of the aisle. Lily insisted on sitting next to him, and Lindsey obliged with a soft smile, taking her seat next to Karen, separated from her husband.

The violins and pianos cued, and Lucas turned his head to watch the procession, his eyes immediately catching a pair of bright blue ones. A little girl, five years old at the most, pranced down the aisle, her blonde curls tossing from shoulder to shoulder. She tossed the flowers up into the air as high as she could, earning giggles from those around her.

When she reached the front of the church, she had only a handful of petals left, and so with a frown, she decided to change strategies. She handed out petals to each of the people on the ends of the aisle. When she reached Lucas's, she placed the white rose petal in his hand and smiled at him. The smile was so familiar to him, it shook his very core.

Sam. His head whispered the name, but his lips didn't dare to move, knowing full and well that this girl was just a mirage. She was probably his niece. Haley and Nathan had a five year old daughter named Natalie who he had yet to really see. His mind was just playing tricks on him. He didn't have long to concentrate on her anyway. Not when he felt the presence of someone else making their way down the aisle. His head turned just as she came to the middle of the aisle, and he saw her.

The world stopped.

Every word that had ever been written about beauty and grace and purity flew out the window at that very moment in which he saw her for the first time in six years. After the moment would pass, he knew that he would try to describe it, in his own mind over and over again and fall short. There was no way to explain it, no words to express it. It was the vision of perfection. She had eyes that sparkled green, lit with passion and dampened by melancholy, but beautiful nonetheless. Her smile still captivated him, still made his breath catch and his heart race dangerously. Her body had filled out over the years, no longer was she as thin as a toothpick, pointy edges and sharp curves. She was fleshed out, making her all the more desirable. The dress she wore clung slightly to her body, leaving room for imagination and yet driving his senses wild.

They wouldn't have been able to pay him to take his eyes off her.

He stared, transfixed, as she passed him, not noticing his presence. The fragrance of her shampoo, still pomegranate, lingered in the air before him. And he watched as she took her spot next to the flower girl, placing a hand on her shoulder and whispering something in her ear.

Lucas's heart broke at that moment, a sense of déjà vu filling his body. He had had this dream before, the one where Peyton whispered to a little girl with curly blonde hair…

Sam.

Lucas sighed, rubbing his eyes in the hopes that the vision would leave him. But the rest of the ceremony it stayed, clinging to the back of his eyelids every time he tried to blink away from the sight of Peyton and the mystery flower girl. There was no escaping it.

There never was in Tree Hill.

--

Huge white rose centerpieces were the first things he noticed when he crossed the threshold of the reception hall. The centerpieces were at least two and a half feet tall and awkwardly shaped. He wondered briefly why he expected anything different seeing as it was Brooke's wedding.

He spent a whole hour staring at those centerpieces, pretending that he was enjoying his food and that he was not trying to focus on anything other than Peyton Sawyer. Besides, the centerpieces were quite fascinating.

They had been seated at a table with Karen and Lily and some of Owen's family with whom Karen was friendly with. Lindsey was engaged in conversation with Owen's eldest brother, leaving Lucas the freedom to let his mind wander, that was when Lily wasn't poking him in the shin. Despite the nearly twenty year age gap, Lucas and Lily were nothing more than siblings when it boiled down to it.

Once dinner had been devoured, people began to linger away from their tables, just until the toasts would be recited and the first dance begun. Lily slid away from their table to play with her cousins. Lindsey and Karen went to speak with Brooke, congratulate her some more, Lucas guessed. Lucas had the urge to speak with Peyton, but seeing her up at the head table chatting with Chase, Owen's best man, he decided against it. Their time would come.

Instead, he found Nathan and Haley.

"Hey man," Nathan said, a genuine smile finding its way to his face, "I didn't think you'd be here."

"I didn't think so either," Lucas said honestly, "But Brooke invited me so…"

"Have you talked to Peyton?" Haley said quickly, cutting him off. Lucas looked at her oddly. Her composure was not holding up, and Lucas knew right away that there was something she was hiding from him. Haley was never good at keeping secrets when faced with someone in person.

"No. Why?"

"No reason," Nathan said, cutting Haley off before she could say anything, "It's just…a lot's changed since you last saw her."

"Oh really?" Lucas said, slowly taking in the words, "Like?"

Nathan never got a chance to respond. A tiny flash of golden curls came whizzing by Lucas and tugged at Nathan's coat sleeve. It was the flower girl from the ceremony.

"Jamie stole a hunk of frosting off the cake!"

"He did what?" Haley said, her eyes bulging.

"He stole a huge chunk of frosting! And it's not fair because mommy said no cake until Auntie Brooke and Uncle Owen cut it."

"You're right," Nathan said crouching down so he was eye level with the girl, "I think I'll have to have a talk with Jamie." He stood up, straightening his tie.

"Give him hell, Uncle Nathan," the little girl said.

"Maggie!"

The voice caught Lucas's attention and he spun around, coming face to face with Peyton Sawyer.

Her eyes caught his, and suddenly her face went from disappointed to shocked in a matter of seconds.

"Oh," she managed to squeak out.

"I think I'm going to go help Nathan scold our son," Haley said, looking back and forth between the two adults, "Come on Maggie."

Margaret nodded, but before she left she turned to Peyton, "Mommy, I'm sorry I said hell."

"It's okay," Peyton said, averting her gaze from Lucas. She gave Margaret the biggest smile she could muster, hoping to convince her daughter that she wasn't shocked because of her actions. Margaret seemed to buy it, and as soon as she and Haley were out of sight, the smile slid from her face. She turned back to Lucas who was looking at her now with a mixture of curiosity and awe.

This was awkward.

"I see you met my daughter," Peyton ventured, biting on her lip. Hell, the cat was already out of the bag. There was no way around it.

"Yeah," Lucas said, the disbelief etched into every bit of his voice.

"I'm…uh…yeah," Peyton looked around for some way out of this conversation, "I thought you knew."

"Excuse me?"

"I thought someone would have passed along the message by now," Peyton said, "I mean Karen, Haley, Nathan, they all knew and I know they all still talk to you so I figured someone would have mentioned it."

"Peyton, it's not a big deal," Lucas said, laughing a little, though it was stilted and see through.

"Don't pretend it's not," Peyton whispered, "You didn't deserve to find out like this, Lucas."

Lucas dropped the façade and nodded gently.

"She's beautiful," he said.

"She's just like I imagined she would be."

"Yeah?"

"Well," Peyton said, biting her lip, "Not exactly. There are a few things I didn't bargain for."

They exchanged a weak smile.

Lucas opened his mouth, intent on asking the question that was burning in his heart, the question Peyton hoped he wouldn't ask. But before he could, the DJ's voice rang over the speaker announcing the toasts.

"That's my cue," Peyton said.

Lucas just nodded as she left, her feet carrying her only a few steps before the words slipped out of his mouth.

"Hey Peyton?"

Peyton turned back to look at him.

"You look nice."

And with a sly grin and not another look, he went back to his seat.

--

"I will kill you," Peyton muttered, as Chase began his speech first.

"Why would you say that?" Brooke whispered, pretending to still be listening to what Chase was saying.

"One word: Lucas."

Brooke looked non-plus, "Two words: Get laid."

"Brooke," Peyton warned.

"Oh fine you need it spelled out some more! Four words: Get laid…by Lucas."

"You did not seriously invite him to your wedding so I would sleep with him, did you?"

"What do you think, P. Sawyer?"

"Oh my God," Peyton sighed, as applause over Chase's speech rang out around them.

"Looks like you're up, P. Sawyer. You'll have to wait to kill me until the honeymoon's over."

"I hate you," Peyton muttered, standing up so she could give her speech.

"I love you too, sweetheart," Brooke smirked as she smacked her in the ass. The audience laughed and Peyton couldn't help but send Brooke a playful glare and play along.

"When Brooke asked me to give this speech, I thought she was joking because in all honesty, there are plenty of more qualified people who could stand up here and tell you about why she and Owen will last. There are people who know love better than I do, who've had it and held on to it for years.

When my husband died, Brooke and Owen were in the middle of one of their bigger fights. Brooke had gone into hyperactive mode, which was her usual setting when she was nervous or upset. None of us could get her to calm down. So I called Owen and as soon as he heard what had happened, it didn't matter how much they were fighting, he was at our house in a matter of minutes. And as soon as she saw him, they melted into each other.

They could see the bigger picture. They could see that the fights and the break ups and the hardships didn't matter because in the end it always came back to them. They just needed one look or one embrace and they were right back on track.

William Shakespeare once wrote, "love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. Oh no, it is an ever fixed mark." I don't like that sonnet one bit because I believe the greatest part of Brooke and Owen's love is that it had moved. It has changed and altered and grown and when problems were thrown at them, they overcame it through adapting. They faced everything together, and when they knew they had to face things alone, it was okay. They trusted each other.

True love is the type that can survive everything, the kind whose embers don't die." Peyton paused, taking in a shaky breath.

"True love is rare, and when you find it, you hate to lose it. I was blessed with plenty of glimpses at true love in my life. Some I could not keep, and some I watched fly away, but I think Brooke and Owen are two people who will never lose that spark."

Peyton turned to face Brooke and Owen, raising her champagne flute. "To Brooke and Owen, may you always carry each other's hearts with dignity and grace."

Applause rang out as Peyton took her seat next to Brooke.

"You went and made me cry," Brooke mumbled, tears falling from her eyes.

"I guess we're even then," Peyton smirked, turning her attention the DJ as he prepared to announce the first dance.

"At this point," the DJ said, "we'd like to have Brooke and Owen join us on the floor as they celebrate their first dance together as Mr. and Mrs. Nichols."

Peyton watched as Brooke and Owen took their place on the dance floor. The music began to play and Peyton immediately recognized the tune, the sound of the voice sending chills down her spine.

Waves are crashing on the sea

Move the mountains majesty

In the end, it all comes back to me

And only here can I see what you mean to me

The water moves a steady pace.

In its echoes I see your face.

My love for you began this chase.

I know it's you I can't erase

Brooke didn't know that Drew had written this song for her. But Peyton remembered it's words whispered against her temple, the last song he ever recorded. Peyton tried her best not to look frantic as she slipped out of the reception hall, hoping and praying that Drew's words wouldn't follow her.

One man noticed and that same man followed.

--

The pieces connected in Lucas's mind just seconds before he found her. Drew Mitchell, the lead singer of Sober, had been her husband, he would bet his life on that. It made sense then why she had assumed he just might know about her marriage. She knew he kept tabs on the latest music scene and Sober had been pretty damn good in their day…

He found her leaning against the railing which faced the large open window with the view of the ocean. She noticed his approach and gave him a sad smile, as if she figured he would find her first. He stood next to her, overlooking the ocean.

"He was your husband," Lucas said, breaking the silence.

"Yes," Peyton said simply, "And no, I wasn't a groupie," she added hoping to lighten the mood somewhat.

Lucas laughed, "I didn't think you were."

"Eh," Peyton shrugged, trying to hold back her emotions. Lucas saw it, saw the pain she was hiding, the pain she still carried, the type that had only multiplied after he left. He felt his own heart break at her heart ache. He wanted to fix her, any way he could think how.

"Dance with me," Lucas asked, suddenly. Peyton looked up at him, eyes blustering with unshed tears.

"Lucas…"

"No one's here, Peyton," he reassured, extending his hand, "Just you and me."

And Drew, Peyton thought. She could still hear the fading echo of his voice.

And that's what you mean to me.

Everything and more to me.

She bit her lip. "That's a dangerous thing."

"What?"

"Us. Alone."

Lucas smirked, "You really think I'm going to seduce you with my wife and your daughter less than five feet away and you about to cry over your dead husband."

Peyton let out a short laugh, "Knowing you, yes. And knowing me, I'd let you."

"Pretend I'm a friend for five minutes."

"Fine," Peyton rolled her eyes, but took the two steps to be even with him, placing one hand in his and the other on the top of his shoulder. "But if your hand moves two inches south of my lower back, and I'm kneeing you in the groin."

Lucas chuckled, his arm curling up her back where his hand rested splayed between her shoulder blades. He squeezed the other hand in hers. "Good enough?"

"Yes."

They swayed slowly, the beat from the other room lost through the walls. Still, she felt the tension within her shift and change, but refuse to release. He must have felt it too, because his hand rubbed circles on her back, slowly coaxing her into relaxing.

She could feel his breath against her cheek, as Drew's words faded out for good and she felt something inside of her snap finally. Here, in this hallway, she could finally let go. There was no need to worry about Brooke barging into her room to talk about purse designs or work surprising her with a call about album covers or Maggie waking up in the middle of the night from a bad dream. There was no distraction to keep her going, nothing to keep her from letting it all go.

She hadn't cried since the day Drew was buried. Sure, she had shed a few tears now and then, but nothing that got out of hand, nothing that couldn't be swept under the rug with a few encouraging words from Haley or Karen or Brooke. Every inch of grief she had experienced from that day forward had to be hidden, for Maggie's sake.

But now, all it took was Lucas to change that. He was the only person who saw through her, the only one who could cut through the bullshit and make her feel. He was responsible for her greatest pain and greatest joy. And here in his arms, she felt her greatest sorrow unleashed with the first harsh sob that escaped her lips.

He didn't even flinch when it happened, like he knew it was coming. He braced himself, even, as she began to fall apart, crumble within his arms. He dragged her to the floor; let her curl up in his lap. Her arms locked tightly around his neck, and her face buried in the crook there. He whispered reassurances in her ear, and petted the hair back off her face. He held her as close as he could.

He didn't ask for her to explain, and so she didn't, but in her head she waned to tell him the whole story.

She wanted to tell him about a girl who believed people always left, a girl who had found love again and had it ripped away from her in the most ironic and cruel way possible. She wanted to tell him about the man who had made her happy for some time. The man who sang her to sleep and made her ice cream sundaes at two in the morning. The man who did what Lucas couldn't, the man Lucas should thank for giving her the greatest gift she had ever received.

It wasn't as though those tears were just for Drew though. She wanted to tell him that she cried for the man whose proposal she had turned down. She wanted to tell him about the nights she spent up in her daughter's new bedroom, his old room, remembering the time that this room was her only safe haven. She wanted to tell him of regret for saying no to the one person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

She wanted to explain how sometimes when she looked at Maggie she saw Lucas looking back, and it was then that she had to remember not to whisper the name Sam. She wanted to tell him that he haunted every aspect of her life, that she could go anywhere without thinking of him. Every sight, sound and smell still found a way to bring her mind back to him, even after eight years apart. She wanted to tell him that when it was all said and done, most of the tears she cried would always be for him.

She didn't have to tell him any of it.

He already knew.

He placed her hand over his heart, curling his fingers on top of it to keep it in place.

The gesture spoke louder than words would have.