Yay, very late companion piece to "Men and Women." Definitely don't have to read that one first at all, though. I was planning on having a whole thing here bitching about the show, and especially Peyton, but I let Brooke do most of it for me. Sorry about the ending for people who don't like loose ties left for your own interpretation. And sorry about the best line being the summary. I hate that, but I'm a whore for readers.

"What are you doing here?'

"I... I have nowhere to go."

"Brooke..."

"No, it's true. There's a huge empty house that doesn't belong to anyone I've ever met waiting for me, and that's all. It's not fair; I'm supposed to be the good one."

"You are good, Brooke."

"I think I'm dying."

"What do you mean you're..."

"Eventually, I'm just going to disappear and no one's going to notice."

"I'd notice."

"No, don't lie to me, Lucas. You have Peyton, and she's... very bendy."

He ducked his head, laughing gently as she fell across his lap on her stomach.

"Brooke, why are you here?"

"Why don't I go to Peyton's? She punched me. Remember? Closed fist, after she's been getting that fucking marine to teach her how to punch stalkers... but she punches me. I slapped her, but I didn't want to hurt her; I just was... angry. Why don't I go to Haley's? Oh yeah, I only slept with her husband. Why don't I go to my parents? I miss my parents, Lucas. I mean, I hate them, but they at least had to have me."

"Brooke, you know..."

"I'm tired. I want to go home."

"Do you want a ride?"

"But I don't have one. I'm alone, and I'm stuck with you. And you can't kick me out, Lucas, because you're the only person who ever loved me."

He shut his mouth as she rolled over down to his thighs. She wasn't graceful or even subtle as she sat up and looked him in the eye.

"You did love me, right? Because I don't know who I would have if you didn't. I mean, you don't have to now, I just... you did, right?"

"Yeah, Brooke." His hand instinctively came to her back, gliding its knuckles slowly up her bare back. She shivered.

"Okay."

"Are you drunk?"

"No. Everything's just... dim."

"Dim?"

"Like someone turned down all the lights in the world. I can see you though."

"Why is it dark? When did it get like that?"

"I don't know, sometime at that bar."

"So you are drunk."

"No, Lucas. I wouldn't lie to you. I hate when people lie. It just makes people confused."

"But Brooke, why are you..."

"You know, I think the last time I was really happy was in here. You remember when we would do nothing, Lucas? I don't do that anymore. Nothing. I kinda miss it."

"I remember."

"And when it was nice outside, we could lie on the porch in the dirt, but it didn't really matter. Only you got dirty."

"That's because you refused to lie on the ground unless you were on top of me."

"It was nice though, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you could talk at me about books and songs, and I never really could hear you, but it didn't really matter, you know? Nothing. Everything has to be something now. I hate it. Everything means so goddamn much, and no one can take anything lightly. Fuck, Lucas; when did we all get like this? Like more than just boys and girls?"

"I don't know."

"You've changed."

"So have you."

She shut her mouth, her head flopping down to her shoulder as she lay back down on her stomach, her arms crossed across his waist.

"Brooke, maybe you should move..."

"I just think it sucks. We were all happy, I thought."

"Maybe you were happy, and it made everything seem better."

"Well, that doesn't have to be bad, right? Me being happy. It doesn't happen too much anymore. It's my fault, though, right? I'm a bad friend. I'm a whore."

"You're not."

"I thought couples were supposed to agree with each other. Peyton definitely thinks so."

"Peyton's just mad."

"I don't understand why. I slept with Nathan but I wasn't really there. And Nathan slept with everyone. And he said they were broken up. And Peyton always said she didn't care about him anymore. Like she was worried about losing something, but she didn't care about him. And I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't make excuses, Brooke."

"I know. But it was a long time ago, anyway. And it was totally different. I gave her all these fucking chances to be with you, but she said no. And I always told her how much I cared about you, and she said it was good that I was happy. But she didn't really think so, did she? Because then, she wouldn't have kissed you. It meant more, you know? You guys had all these feelings. She's a fuck, and I hate her."

"No, you don't."

"I forgave her. Then she had to get all... fucking Peyton."

"Brooke, I can't..."

"But you loved me, right? Even though I was a whore. You didn't punch me."

"I would never touch you, Brooke. No matter what I thought."

"Well, that's a lie. You touched me plenty." She smiled at him, biting her tongue.

"You know what I mean."

"You mean you did think I was a whore? You just wouldn't punch me?"

"I never thought you were a whore."

"Never?"

"Well, maybe when you were naked in my car."

She giggled, throwing her head back so far that she landed on her back. He smiled as she pulled herself back up, the smile gone from her face.

"Lucas, can I ask you a really serious question?"

"Sure."

"Was I your first?"

"What makes you think that?"

She shrugged. "It's not like you were ever bad, but I don't know. We both know Haley didn't put out."

He laughed, crossing his arms across his chest. "Does it matter?"

"No. It'd just mean I meant something to you."

He stared at her; her eyes weren't even open anymore. She drowsily crawled up to him, tucking her head under his left arm.

"Can I sleep here?"

"I don't know if..."

"You let Peyton."

"Yeah, but Brooke, we weren't... dating then."

"You did a lot of other shit for Peyton when we were. And I need you."

"Why, Brooke? If you're not drunk, what's up with you?"

"I think it was the first drink that did it."

"Did what?"

"He wasn't cute, and I think it got to him."

"Who?"

"I think there was something in my vodka martini."

"Something? Like a roofie?"

"Yeah, so I left."

"You drove after you thought you took a roofie?"

"I thought you'd take care of me."

Her eyes were closed, and he found his fingers in her greasy hair.

"Brooke, I'll always be here if you need me, but..."

"Shh. What do I have to do to make you let me stay?" she whispered into his blanket.

"You don't have to do anything."

"You sure?" She opened her eyes and lifted her head. Crawling even closer towards him, she fell, hitting his lips on the way down. He held her head to prevent herself from hurting herself, leaving his mouth on hers a second longer than they both should have.

"Whoa, Brooke, I..."

"I'm sorry. Does that mean I can't stay?"

"If you don't want to be alone because you have a roofie in your system, you can stay. But if it's because you want to..."

"I don't, Luke. I'm just tired."

"Okay."

She crawled up again, lying her head on the pillow next to his. She rolled over away from him, slipping her feet under the covers. As her eyes closed, she asked, "Who did you love more?"

"I can't answer that question."

"Because it's her."

"No. Because it's you."

The next morning, even though it was a mistake, a deep breath was taken and a phone was held up.

"Peyton? I'm sorry, but I have to tell you something."