I grabbed some frozen strawberries so I could ice your bruising knees,
But frozen things they all unfreeze and now I taste like...
All those frozen strawberries I used to chill your bruising knees,
Hot July ain't good to me,
I'm pink and black and blue for you.

…

"911, what's your emergency?"

"There's someone, someone in the house." The frightened voice said, barely above a whisper.

"I'm sending help right now. What's your name?"

"Brooke. My name is Brooke."

"Okay, Brooke. Stay calm. Is anyone hurt?"

"Luk- Lucas, he's, oh god, his leg."

"What's wrong with his leg, Brooke?"

"It's bleeding, it's bleeding really bad."

"Okay, he'll be alright as soon as the ambulance arrives. You're not hurt, are you, Brooke?"

"…"

"Brooke?"

Seven Minutes Earlier

"Brooke?"

Brooke lifted her gaze from the floor up to Luke's worried eyes.

"You okay?"

She nodded once, slowly like she was having trouble lifting the weight of her head. His gaze drifted back down to his leg, which now had a shirt sleeve wrapped tightly around it, looking confused, "You take the knife out?"

Brooke nodded, and quietly scooted closer to the wounded body part, "I wasn't sure if I should. Sometimes it makes it bleed more if you take it out. But then I imagined I was you, and how it would just feel to have a knife in me and," She shudder and blinked, keeping her eyes closed for a few extra seconds before she let the brown look at blue again, "it freaked me out, so, I just pulled it out."

Lucas noted that the knife now lay a few feet away. As he turned his eyes back to Brooke, they both became aware of the soft footsteps walking up the stairs.

Brooke held back a sob, and tried to smile, "Seems like Peyton's house is the ideal horror setting, again."

Luke's frown deepened as he thought as Derek, but didn't let it linger in his mind for too long. He indicated to Brooke to pick up the knife and she did so hesitantly.

"Hand it here."

Again, she did so hesitantly.

"Never thought this would happen to us, ya know?" Brooke began, as silent tears began streaming. She thought she saw a flicker of something change in Luke's eyes, but it passed and he continued to keep his eyes trained on the door, hearing sounds in Peyton's dad's room next door.

Brooke swallowed a sob, again, "Derek was after Peyton, he had a goal set before him, ya know? This guy, this monster, is just sick. I just, just want to go home, Lucas."

"I know, pretty girl, I know."

He hadn't called her that since they broke up. She met his gaze and opened her mouth to speak, but he brought a finger up to his mouth in a 'shhh' gesture and indicated to the floor next to the door of Peyton's closet. A shadow had appeared and the knob turned slowly.

Present

"Okay, Brooke. Stay calm. Is anyone hurt?" Lift your head up, Brooke, just look to make sure Lucas is fine.

"Luk- Lucas, he's, oh god, his leg." The sight nearly overpowered her, and she had to hold back the sort of contraction you get when you need to throw up. The knife was back in place, further in this time, and the blood had turned the white sleeve she had wrapped around the wound the first time a deep red.

"What's wrong with his leg, Brooke?"

"It's bleeding, it's bleeding really bad." No shit, Sherlock, she told her self.

"Okay, he'll be alright as soon as the ambulance arrives. You're not hurt, are you, Brooke?" She stared at her stomach.

"…" She put a hand to hold down where it hurt.

"Brooke?" Go away.

"Just come quick, please," Brooke pleaded, glancing down at her stomach. She cautiously lifted her hand; the blood had stained her fingers bright red.