16 years later

You know I always found it funny. Peyton was the girl who used to say, People always leave while I believed that people who are meant to be always find their way back in the end.

Guess I was wrong.

Lucas and I were the ultimate power couple, living the dream. He was the best seller author, making the 'better watch out for his next novel lists', while I built a fashion empire. But in order to get there, we had to let each other go.

Four years after giving birth to the twins, the two of us got married. We thought we had it all, but we were so young, we wanted more things. We had personal aims, goals, ambitions, dreams; but we also had responsibilities. Mixing it with our age and naivety, we sincerely lacked the arsenal to power through and make it work. And so began the fights, until I asked him for a divorce.

The entire ordeal was cumbersome as it involved two innocent precious bystanders. We began with a heated custody battle, but I decided to give up my custody and award Lucas with sole custody of the pieces of my heart. Pun not intended. I had reasoned that the kids needed stability and New York was no place to raise a family. Tree Hill would always be more ideal to raise them. Lucas and I both agreed that we would not Parent Trap the two and separate them. They had always been joined at the hip since they came out of my womb and they were suffering enough. Already scared by the fights that we were having that they had painfully witnessed and eavesdropped on, added with the fear of losing a parent, we couldn't add losing their best friend to the mix. So I packed up my life and moved, leaving all the shards of my heart back home.

"So, as you can see, with the Disney Red Carpet for their latest movie, Baby Brooke became a staple choice for most celebrities to dress their kids. The matching couture and customised outfits for the movie resulted in profits of -" I was going on at a Board Review Meeting at Clothes over Bros, my Company that I had built from the ground up in New York.

"Brooke," I was suddenly interrupted by my assistant, Millicent. "Sorry, it's Lucas. He says it's important. He sounds frantic."

My mind started sending alarming signals. Lucas never called unless it was extremely urgent pertaining to the kids. We usually just texted each other about the goings on in their lives.

"Excuse me, I really need to take this," I apologised before following Millie out of the Board room and into my office.

"Lucas, what's wrong?" I asked cutting to the chase.

"Are you near a TV?" He asked me hastily. His voice sounded soft yet panicky. My legs began to grow numb as my mind began racing with every bad thing that could've happened to my children. Why couldn't he just tell me what had happened.

"Yeah," I said as I turned it on and went to the news channel.

BREAKING NEWS:

We are bringing you the live feed from Tree Hill High School where there is an active shooter inside. So far we have no update on the number of people injured or the number of casualties. The students are being held hostage while the police work on a plan to bring down the shooter and save the children.

The phone instantly fell from the palm of my hands.

"Luke-Lucas! Tell me they're safe! Tell me that you have them!" I cried into the phone after clambering on my feet to grab it.

"I-I, I," Lucas stuttered, not knowing what to say or how exactly he was supposed to respond.

"I am leaving now. I am on my way. Millie, charter a jet for now and tell Sanjay to bring out the car. I have to go!" I said before sprinting out of the 12 storey office. "Lucas, please keep me updated, I am on my way!"

"Hurry," he whispered before the call ended.

Millie was efficient. She had informed the staff at Teterboro Airport regarding the situation and we were wheels up as soon as I entered the flight. I could not help but feel helpless and scared. I was frustrated that we had no information and the news on the channel was the same.

BREAKING NEWS:

It has been confirmed that 7 students have been injured and 1 teacher is dead. The police have managed to kill the shooter with the help of a sniper on the roof of the building on the opposite side of the street. The identity of the shooter is yet not known but the injured children are currently being taken to the hospital.

I suddenly heard my phone ring at that exact moment. I did not know whether it was good or bad news. I wasn't prepared for what news awaited me on the other end of the line. Yet, I could not waste time and I answered his call immediately.

"Brooke, it's bad. They are both shot. Get to the hospital," Lucas said on the call before it ended, not giving me even a moment to ask any questions.

At that moment I felt like somebody had knocked the wind out of me. My hands and feet went numb as my head felt cold and way too heavy to hold up. I was scared out of my wits. Both my babies were injured. They were hanging by a thread fighting for their lives! I imagined losing them, then quickly tried blocking that memory out of my mind. It was just too hard and too painful. I turned off the news and looked out of the window. I knew from experience that I would land in Tree Hill in another 45 minutes and it would take me another 30 mins to reach the hospital. I contemplated calling Lucas and interrogating him until I knew the exact extent of damage to each child. Yet, I knew that he was doing everything he could to save our children and that he would call and update me as soon as he could.

"Lucas!" I cried as soon as I made it to the hospital. The nurse had informed me that my children were both still in surgery.

I took in Lucas' appearance. He looked tired and dead, as if he had aged 4 years in the last four hours. He was slumped in a chair, he looked fatigued and helpless. I saw that his shirt had traces of blood on them, our children's blood. Lucas did not even bother to give any reaction to my arrival. He just stared at me painfully as if he was begging me to take the pain and hurt away.

"Brooke!" he yelled, before tears started forming in his eyes, making me misty eyed as well. He did not move even a finger, he just sat there slumped in the hard hospital chair and looked at me hopelessly.

"Do they have any updates? How are they doing?" I asked him, my eyes already wet with tears as I ran towards him.

He just shook his head no dejectedly and continued to stare at the ground. Before I even realised what I was doing, I crawled into his lap, curling my arms around him. I was so scared and so broken and I knew Lucas felt exactly the same way. We both hugged each other and cried, breaking down like we never had before. It pained to see Lucas so broken. I felt the need to fix him, yet I did not know how else to make him feel better than to just be there for him. I wanted to see hope in his eyes again. He seemed to feel the same way as his strong arms wrapped around my body such that I couldn't move. He was first surprised, not by my actions, but by how small I was and how easily I shrunk and fit into his frame, even after all these years. I placed my head on his chest as he brought his hands around me, rubbing my back through the material of my black strapless work dress.

We both stayed like that for a while, both of us afraid to move, savouring the empathy that another person knew and understood and felt the exact same feelings and emotions that the other was going through. He continued to look ahead, dead straight towards the doors of the OR while I was curled sideways in his lap with my eyes closed and praying to God. His hands continued to stroke my back while I clutched onto his shirt, his shirt stained with our children's blood.

"Mr. and Mrs. Scott," the Doctor called out to us. I quickly clambered out of Lucas' lap as the two of us stood up, neither of us correcting him about my name. It just felt too stupid and trivial.

"James and Sophia are both alive. They both pulled through and we managed to repair their gunshot wounds. We managed to get the bullet and all the bullet fragments out but they both had severe injuries to their abdomen and intestines. They are both in critical condition and if they do make it, they both have a long road to recovery. I am just hoping that they pull through the next 48 hours, things will be a lot smoother then," he informed us, not sugar-coating anything.

"Can we see them?" Lucas asked him. I was surprised at the fact that his mind was functioning that well at a time like this, my head was still trying to acclimate to the fact that the kids were alive and had made it through the surgery.

"Yes, the nurse will take you up to their rooms in the ICU once they are out of the OR. They will be sedated for quite a long time and they may even slip into a coma, so don't keep any hopes for tonight," the Doctor said. That's when I even realised, it was dark already. I did not realise when day turned to night even though all I had done was waiting.

After another twenty minutes, a nurse walked up to us to escort us to the twins' rooms. I had a death grip on Lucas' arms, my nails biting into him so strongly that I could have been drawing blood, yet he was too out of it to even flinch. We slowly made our way to Sophia's room and then Jamie's. I took in their appearances which made my breath hitch, I continued clutching onto Lucas' arm, so afraid by the sight that greeted me. If you looked from afar, they looked peaceful, almost like they were sleeping, but from closer, when you took a good look, you would be able to see just how hurt, broken and in pain they actually were. Both of their abdomens were bandaged up. They had tubes all around them, needles poking their arms, wires going through the hospital gown stuck to their chest. It ached my heart to see them that way. I curled into Lucas' side in pain, the dam had broken and I was crying vehemently. Lucas hugged me, holding me tight, allowing me to cry. I felt his own tears slide down my back as we just clung on to each other like our lives and our children's lives depended on it.

"They'll be okay. I just know it. They will pull through. They are so strong and so brave, they just have to come out unscathed," he said to me with all the confidence that he could muster up. I nodded my head, allowing his words to reassure me.

We sat there numbly for I am not even sure how much longer. Lucas took Sophia's room and I took Jamie's. Both of us just sat there and stared at their faces, was this how they would look even if they died? They were already so still and so pale.

'No Brooke, you cannot go there. They are fine! They will be fine. They will heal and get past this,' I thought to myself.

"The doctor is kicking us out. He said that we can't be in the ICU anymore, we have already been here for much longer than we are allowed to be," I heard Lucas say suddenly, making me jump.

"Shit, sorry! I did not mean to startle you," he apologised.

"No no. I'm fine," I answered hoarsely. I seemed to have lost my voice in the panic of it all. "This place just gives me the creeps. It's so sad and dark and eerie." I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling the panic, fear and dread.

"I know. I feel it too. It's guess this is what a Dementor's kiss would feel like. Like all the happiness had been sucked out of the world," he said, quoting Harry Potter.

"Come on, let's go home. The hospital will call us if there is an update, though it isn't likely that we get one today," he said again, peering at our not-so-little-anymore boy and took his limp hand in his, just to hold it for a few moments, stroking his palm with his thumb.

"Can we stay, though? It just feels so wrong to leave," I asked, even though fatigue was evident on my face.

"I already asked the doctor. His exact words were - 'Lucas, go home with your wife. Neither of you are any useful out here.'" he said. I simply nodded my head and followed suit, too drained to even think.

"I didn't bother to correct him with the ex-wife thing." he said moments later, more to himself than me, as if he just realised his error.

I laughed at his rambles, "Yeah, frankly, that issue looks so trivial now. Leave it to the kids to find new ways to make us feel guilty and like shit about our messy relationship." Lucas gave a small smile and chuckle before helping me stand up. He handed me his coat, seeing that I was freezing in my strapless black dress as we made our way out of the hospital. He placed his hand on the small of my back as he directed me towards his car. Lucas and I wanted to be icy when we began our divorce proceedings, we really even would have been horrible to each other had it not been for the kids. We had a phase full of snide remarks and crude zingers that we threw at each other, that was until the babies began to catch our words and use them on each other. They even had begun picking on our energy. Besides, we were forced to see each other so often, celebrate all the holidays and festivals and birthdays together, we had the same friends so we had learned to be friends.

"They will call, right if there is anything at all?" I asked, needing reassurance.

"Yes. I triple checked that they had both our work and personal numbers as well as the house phone. I also gave them Haley's cell and house phone," he confirmed, while we waited for the elevator.

"Wait, you're Mr. and Mrs. Scott, right? A lady suddenly came up to us and asked us just as we stepped into the chilly air.

"Uhh, yes," Lucas answered, while I eyed her from head to toe trying to figure out whether she was a reporter.

"I'm Mrs. Woods. I teach James and Sophia's science class. Mr. Scott, we met very briefly at the last Parent Teacher Meeting," she introduced herself.

"Oh yes, I remember now," Lucas replied.

"I-I was there when, you know, when it happened. I was teaching James and Sophia's class when we heard the sounds of shots firing out in the hallway. Everyone was out of their desks and peering out of the classroom door. We did not know at that time what it was, or just how much danger we were in. We could hear sounds but see nothing. I decided to go and see what was happening but when I took a turn, I came face to face with the masked shooter. I began running, and he followed me. I ran into the class and locked it, but he kicked the door down. He shot his rifle towards the ceiling and we all ducked down under the desks. He eyed your daughter and pulled her out by her hair. She was screaming and he was about to shoot her so James ran up and tried to shield her. He managed to pull Sophia out of the gunman's arms, but he got shot in the process. Then he shot Sophia before walking out. We tried to put pressure on the wound and do everything that we could. I am just so sorry that I could not protect them. Children are in our custody when they are in school. I am just so sorry! I should have done something, maybe I should have tried to get in the way, instead of that brave young boy! God, the way Jamie jumped in to save his sister, you have raised an incredible son! I should have been the one who got shot, not those children. I was just so scared, it was so scary that I could not move. I am so sorry," she cried.

I walked up to her and gave her a hug, "Listen to me, what happened is unfortunate. It is absolutely terrible and nobody should have to go through that. Yet, it is nobody's fault except that manic shooter, okay. This is not on you."

"Your strength is admirable. Thank you," she said, looking at me vulnerably. "I just, I needed you to know. I am so sorry for everything that you have to deal with, for both your children to be hurt. I am going to pray for your family." She gave a final sniffle before squeezing my arm and walking away.

"You were good with her," Lucas said before taking me to his car.

"Yeah, but to hear what actually went down was so brutal," I sighed, placing my head in my hands as if my hands would magically wipe the memories away.

"How could somebody be so sick as to hurt children! Children!" he said, slamming the steering wheel with his knuckles, making me flinch with fear.

"Sorry," he said, calming down once he saw the panic expression on my face.

"It's fine. Let's just go to the house," I answered, looking straight ahead. The rest of the ride was fairly silent as neither of us were in the mood to talk. I simply stared out of the window watching as we rode down the familiar streets of Tree Hill.

Whenever I came to Tree Hill to visit the kids, I always stayed at my ancestral home, the mansion with the red door. So, I had never had any reason to enter our bedroom, now Lucas' bedroom since the divorce. Lucas' first best seller had paid for the house and it was perfect for our family, at least that's what the two of us believed back then. This was the first time I witnessed just how drastically the bedroom that I had called mine a long time ago had changed. The walls were a different colour, a deep dark shade of blue and they were bare, stripped of all the photographs that had previously lined them. A framed picture of Lucas and the kids was on the nightstand and a pile of books lay on the other side with a new lamp that did not match the colour scheme of the room at all. It was like he had wiped every trace of me from his room and his life.

I went ahead and sat on the mattress. It felt so different from the visceral memory I had of the soft foam I had picked out for the king size bed. The sheets were just the standard solid grey ones from Bed, Bath and Beyond. I made a mental note to send some Clothes over Bros original sheets for him and the kids whenever I got back to New York and flew to Tree Hill every second week to spend time with the kids. My last expansion the year before had been for home decor. Clothes over Bros had proudly launched Home over Bros which included a whole line of bedspreads, cushion covers, throws, towels, etc. as well as kitchenware, table runners, lamps, etc.

"Why does this mattress feel stiffer than what I remember?" I asked, making a face.

"It's new. Everything in the room smelled of you, it all felt like you. I couldn't deal with it, so I got a new one, something you would hate," Lucas responded with a straight face. There was the chill that I was used to. I gave a stiff nod but didn't say anything.

"You can take the room, I'll crash on the couch," he said. Neither of us had the courage to walk into the kids' bedrooms.

Maybe I shouldn't have come over. Maybe I should have asked him to drop me at the Davis mansion instead. Why wasn't I thinking straight before? I had said to myself that it was in case the hospital called, but I knew that they wouldn't! Now, it was too late. I did not want to ask him to drive me back so late at night, after we were already so tired. Maybe I would just stay the course for tonight and do better tomorrow.

— — –

LUCAS' POV

It had been the longest and shortest day at the same time. It was weird having Brooke back in the house. We were always kind to each other for the sake of the kids, but we also always kept our space and our boundaries. We were both afraid of traipsing into the other's territory and messing things up much more than they already were. So we had developed a pattern. We acted like professionals, like work colleagues. We worked out decisions involving the kids like treaties between USA and Canada - diplomatic and friendly. We respected each other's authority even though I had final veto given my sole guardianship.

I pulled off my shirt that I had on and stared at it. I could see the blood of my children on it mixed with my sweat and Brooke's tears. My chest tightened as images of the battered and bruised faces of my children clouded my vision. It gave me solace knowing that the attacker was dead, but zero comfort that the future regarding my kids was iffy. I picked up my phone and saw a dozen phone calls and messages from every family member and friend that I had. They had obviously seen the news and were worried about the twins.

'They are out of surgery but critical. We just have to wait and see' I typed and forwarded the message to everyone whom I considered close family. That simple act tired me out so much that I passed out on the couch.

"Ahh," I groaned, feeling a searing pain in my back. This couch was not comfortable to sleep on! Just then my ears picked up whimpers. I saw lights shine from underneath the door that led to my room. Brooke was crying.

I stood up and cracked my back before knocking on the door to my bedroom and walking in. I saw Brooke sitting on the bed, her legs tucked between her arms as her body shook and shivered from crying. She looked at me the second I stepped in. Her eyes resembled a little child who had hurt herself and needed her father to fix it for her. I realised just how much she looked like my daughter at that moment. It was the same face, the same dimples, the same cascading brunette curls. Yet, it was different because both my children had inherited my piercing baby blue eyes.

"Wh-what- I thought you slept," she said to me once I walked in and sat on the bed beside her, still maintaining a respectable distance.

"Yeah, that couch is so old, it is lumpy and killing my back," I answered, giving my waist a firm twist, listening to the sound of my bones rubbing and releasing.

"Stay the night," she said simply. I was shocked at her proposition. We had been two people who despised being in the same room together with 30 other people. How was she proposing that we share a bed? Yet, when I looked into her sad lonely eyes, I found myself nodding my head yes.

I lifted the covers to get in and that's when I realised that all Brooke had on was the t-shirt that I had worn the day before. She hadn't even bothered to get a fresh one and had just picked it from the hamper, which not at all like something Brooke Davis, the famous celebrity fashion designer would do. I knew from all our years together that Brooke loved to wear my shirts to bed, but she usually always picked a fresh one once we were married. This was what High School Brooke used to do before the twins were born and I knew that it was because she wanted to smell me and feel comforted by it, as if I was close to her.

My heart ached for the young mother. I couldn't help myself, she just looked so broken as she tried to control her sobs, letting go of the firm grip she had on the shirt. I didn't even realise when either of us fell asleep, curled and cuddled up together with our legs intertwined and arms around each other, just holding on for dear life.