Author's Note: I've had a renewed vigor for this story. Thank you all for sticking around. Your reviews mean a lot to me, every single one of them. I'm putting in the story title between "scenes" of sorts, because I realize that the asterisks I was using haven't been showing up on the site. Hopefully this works better! Again, thanks for reading :)

When Brooke awoke the next morning, the first thing she registered was her pounding headache. The second was the soreness of her body; her breasts and her ribcage, as well as her hips, felt remarkably tender. She then felt the tightness of her skin, caused by obvious tears. Lastly, she breathed in, and instantly recognized where she was before she even opened her eyes. She was in the bed of Lucas Scott.

She slowly opened her eyes, wincing both from the pain and from the confusion. Lucas was sitting in his chair, typing on his laptop. He glanced over at her wearily.

"How are you?" he asked tentatively. She slowly began to sit up before putting a hand to her head.

"Dizzy and sick feeling. What...what happened?"

"You um...Peyton and Jake brought you here. We think you were slipped LSD last night. Some guy...some guy tried to um..."

"Tried to what?" she snapped, fear lighting up her eyes.

"We're not sure. We were hoping you'd remember," Lucas said with a tired sigh. It was evident that he had not slept, and the smell of coffee was strong in the air. Brooke suddenly felt sick as she realized why her body was so sore.

"Oh my God," she said, her voice thick with tears.

Lucas cautiously sat on the bed beside her, slowly reaching out to pat her hand. She looked up at him with terrified, broken eyes. He held out his arms slowly and she sunk into them, breathing deeply, trying to stop herself from panicking or crying.

"I'm so stupid," she whimpered. "I'm so stupid. My doctor told me how bad it would be for me to drink. And not only did I drink, but I managed to get drugged. I'm so fucking stupid."

"Brooke, you're not stupid," Lucas said firmly. "This was not your fault. You drank because you were sad, because you wanted to feel normal again. And whatever prick drugged you did it. Not you."

"I'm scared to look at myself," Brooke whispered. "I'm so sorry, Luke. I am so sorry."

Lucas pulled away, holding her at arms length. "No, Brooke. I'm sorry. I hurt you. I physically harmed you. And then I had the nerve to walk away from you. You do deserve better than me, Brooke, but until you find that person and choose to walk away yourself, I will be here."

"You're all I want," she said, her voice cracking. "I was just scared."

Lucas swallowed the lump in his throat. "I promise that you will never be given a reason to be scared of me again, Brooke."

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too," Lucas said tenderly, and the expression on his face reminded her of the first time he had said those words, out in his front yard. "Why don't you go shower? You'll feel better. I'll make you some coffee." She crinkled her nose. "Tea, then." She giggled slightly and slowly got out of bed, making her way to the bathroom. He began to leave the room, but she grabbed his wrist at the last second.

"I'm a little scared to do this alone," she said, looking at the ground. She tugged at the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing nervously. Lucas nodded in understanding and began to slowly, gently lift it off her body. He slowly reached out and touched the bruises on her. Her eyes slowly closed and she drew in a shaky breath. He withdrew his hand but she snatched it back, opening her eyes slowly. He turned her so that she faced the mirror and she gasped at the bruises that she saw, violent colors against her skin.

Lucas placed a gentle, chaste kiss on her neck. "You're beautiful."

She shook her head. "I'm disgustingly thin and now I'm covered in bruises," she cried.

Lucas shook his head against the back of her neck, kissing it again. He slowly ran a hand down her spine and unhooked her bra, slowly sliding it off of her. She bit her lip as it fell to the floor. He ran his hands up from her hips, gently, slowly, kissing her neck and shoulder softly as he did so. She slowly began to stop crying, chills covering her skin. Lucas pulled away and turned on the shower for her, kissing her on the head and turning to leave. Brooke reached out once more.

"Don't go," she said. "Join me."

"Brooke," Lucas said gently. "You have no idea how badly I would love to, but I don't know if you're ready for that right now. We have a lot to work through, and after last night-"

She cut him off with a kiss. "I'm a big girl, Lucas."

She slipped his shirt off slowly, tugging at the sweats he wore. He stepped out of them, and then out of his boxers as she slithered out of her panties. She grabbed his hands and placed them on her chest.

"Make me feel beautiful."

Lucas wrinkled his brow in concern. "Brooke, you are beautiful. You are so unbelievably gorgeous."

"Make me feel beautiful and loved," Brooke said, "please."

He nodded, understanding her need. He led her into the shower, kissing her with slow, soft passion. She breathed out a small moan as he kissed her jaw, down her neck, down to her chest, spending extra time there, stroking her with his hands. He kissed nearly every inch of her, touching her with a feather-light stroke, drinking in every inch of her. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him, hard, reaching down to his waist, but he caught her hand.

"Brooke," he groaned. "I want you so bad. But I want it to be perfect, and I want you to feel one hundred percent safe."

She bit her lip and nodded, letting him wash her hair and wash her body, as she did the same for him. When they emerged from the shower in puffs of steam, Brooke Davis felt revived and renewed. And Lucas Scott's eyes no longer looked empty; the blue had lightened, had become the color of aquamarine.

They were back. It was all going to fall back into place.

BoxUpAllTheButterflies

Brooke and Lucas opted for spending that Saturday in bed, watching Weird Science and eating popcorn. Brooke had contacted Nathan, Haley, Peyton, and Jake, letting them know that she was safe and that she would be with Lucas for the weekend. Karen was thrilled when she came into the kitchen to find Brooke making tea in her pajamas. The older woman had embraced her gently, placing a kiss on her temple and whispering a loving "welcome home, sweetheart".

"How have you been feeling?" Lucas asked as the credits for Weird Science rolled and Brooke put in a DVD of The O.C.

Brooke shrugged. "It depends on the day. Some days are great, but some are absolutely awful. Nathan almost took me to the hospital on Wednesday because I coughed up some blood."

"Brooke!" Lucas gasped. "You should have gone."

"I went to the doctor the next morning!" Brooke defended. "He keeps suggesting that I go on independent study. I got a notice in the mail that I may not graduate because of my absences."

"Brooke, you're sick. It's not as if you're ditching."

"Yes, well, my grades aren't exactly stellar right now. I'm failing Calculus and English, as well as History."

Lucas furrowed his brow in concern. "I can tutor you, Brooke. We'll get your grades up in no time."

"I hope so," Brooke said, and she finally let herself express her fear. "What if I don't get to graduate?"

"You will graduate, Brooke," Lucas said, pulling her to him in a reassuring embrace. "I promise. I'll make damn sure of it."

"What if I don't live to graduation?" Brooke suddenly whispered after several minutes of comfortable silence.

"Brooke-"

"We can ignore it all we want, Luke, but I am sick," Brooke said firmly, wriggling out of his arms and sitting up to look him in the eyes. "There is a good chance that I'm not going to survive this."

"But there's a chance that you will," Lucas said.

Brooke closed her eyes and took a deep, shaking breath. "The doctor told me to enjoy the things that I can, even the things that might not be best for me in this state. Because my chances don't look so good anymore."

"What are you talking about, pretty girl?" Lucas asked, his voice full of panic as he sat up.

Brooke swallowed. "The only person who knows is Nate, because he was with me for this particular treatment. But the doctor told me that my body isn't responding to the treatment as he'd hoped it would."

"There has to be something else," Lucas said, forcing himself to keep his voice steady.

"There isn't really. We're doing radiation and chemo-"

"When did you start radiation?" Lucas practically yelped.

"A few days ago," Brooke said with a casual wave of her hand.

"I promise Brooke, you're going to survive this. You're Brooke Davis, damn it."

"I get it, Broody," Brooke said with a little laugh. "I just...I worry that I won't do everything that I want to do before I go, ya know? I worry that I'll never create an entire fashion line, or that I'll never get married, or that I'll never have kids, or have a chance to really change the world."

"You will, Brooke," Lucas said softly, pulling her in for a soft kiss. "I promise you will."

Brooke gave him a half smile and pressed play, settling in beside him to watch her favorite show. He watched her light up as Ryan and Marissa met for the first time, and he couldn't help but want to give her everything. To make sure that she lived not until graduation, not until she was even a hundred; to make sure she lived and accomplished everything she ever wanted, no matter how long or short that was.

Brooke Davis was like a supernova, a brilliant ball of light and swirling color. She brought that light into everybody's life, she touched everyone in some way or another. He knew that for the rest of his life, he would be forever altered by Brooke Davis, no matter how long she stayed. If she were to die right in that moment, he knew he would live the rest of his life remembering Brooke, remembering her dimpled grin and her sunny giggle, her fierce loyalty and her explosive temper.

It dawned on him, then, that he would never move on. There would be no one that could ever be even slightly comparable to Brooke Penelope Davis. Her angry words to him in a parking lot were suddenly painfully true.

I wanted you to say that there is no one else that you could ever be with and that you would rather be alone than without me.

He would rather live out the rest of his years alone than without Brooke. He could never kiss another's lips without missing the taste of her chapstick. He could never look into another's eyes and tell her that her loved her, not when they were not the right shade of hazel, the perfect mix of gold and green and brown. He could never lay beside another, his arm slung over her in slumber, not when his arm didn't fit perfectly between the curve between her rib cage and her hips.

Lucas Scott was going to marry Brooke Davis.