Author's Note: Yes, I'm putting these up like rapidfire, but I'm really hoping you guys are reading them!

Brooke was sitting in the bleachers, watching her husband play football when it happened. A member of the opposing team slammed into Derek and sent him flying. He was lying on the ground, his gorgeous face, with his uneven nose and his sharp jaw slack and those bright blue eyes not moving. Brooke's heart stopped. She got up from the bleachers and ran down to the field when a teammate of Derek's held her back.

"Brooke! You can't go on to the field! They're going to take care of him," John exclaimed.

"NO! Let me go! He's my husband! I have to see if he's okay. No! Derek!" She screamed. John held her back but Brooke finally broke free.

"No!" She screamed as she ran toward him. The medics and Derek's coach were gathered around him.

She ran to him, when the coach caught her around the waist.

"Your not supposed to be on the field! The medics are taking care of him."

"LET ME GO! Don't tell me what to do, he's my husband! I have to see if he's okay!" She knelt down beside him. His face was bloody, and he wasn't moving.

"No," Brooke whispered, "You can't die on me, Derek. You can't."

Brooke sat in a chair, beside Derek's hospital bed, waiting for him to wake up. The doctor had given her horrible news about Derek and she didn't know how she was going to tell him. She held his hand and squeezed. Finally, after another hour, Derek opened his eyes.

"Hey," Brooke said softly, "Your awake."

"What's wrong?" Derek asked, seeing the tears in her eyes, "What happened?"

"I have bad news Derek." He grunted and looked her in the eye.

"What is it? Tell me!"

"You were hurt pretty bad when that football player hit you. You hurt your left leg really badly. And.." She hesitated, not wanting to go on.

"And what?" Derek whispered.

"The doctor says that you won't be able to play football again." It had been so hard for her to say that. She knew it was a jab to his heart.

"No.. It can't be," Derek, whispered quietly. And at that moment, he stiffened and turned slighty.

"Derek?" Brooke said, reaching out a hand to touch his own. Derek pulled away and turned his back to Brooke. Even though she knew that Derek was going to act like this, it still hurt her, knowing that he didn't want her to help him.

Two Weeks Later

"Hey," Brooke said, "Do you need any help?"

"No!" Derek yelled, "I can do it myself!" Ever since they had come home from the hospital, Derek had pulled away from her and had been very cold and grumpy. He couldn't put on his pants, because of his leg, and was getting very frustrated.

"Honey, just let me help you. Your going to hurt yourself," Brooke pleaded.

"I can do it myself! It's just pants! I can do it!" He yelled again.

"Alright," Brooke said softly, "Just let me know if you need any help." Derek looked at her retreating back and sighed. He just couldn't do anything right.

Downstairs, Brooke started to make dinner. Her hands were trembling because she didn't know what to do. She tried to help him, she tried to comfort him but he wouldn't listen. He was in his own world, and he didn't want her there. Derek came down and sat on the couch.

"Are you hungry?" Brooke asked. Derek didn't respond.

"Look, your going to have to talk to me sometime," Brooke said. Again, he said nothing.

"I can't keep going through this, Derek!" She yelled at him, losing her control, "All I have been doing is trying to help you, and all you do is push me out!"

"Well, if you were in my position you would do the same thing!" He yelled back at her.

"I wouldn't not talk to you! I wouldn't ignore you and treat you like crap!"

"What do you expect?! I can't play football anymore!"

"There's more to life then football, Derek!"

"Without football, I have nothing!"

"You have me," Brooke said softly.

"What good is that?" Derek said, harshly. Brooke gasped. Instantly, tears sprang in her eyes. She grabbed her purse, and ran out the door.

Brooke couldn't believe what Derek had said. It had hurt her so badly, she hadn't stopped crying ever since he had said it. She had gone to the grocery store, hoping she could forget about it, but for some reason the store made her even sadder. She went out the side exit of the store into the alley. No one was around and everything was quiet, except for the sound of Brooke's sobs. All of a sudden, she felt someone push her into the wall.

"Give me your bag!" The man yelled.

"No! Get off of me!" Brooke yelled, throwing her hands all over the place.

"Give me your bag or I'll hurt you!" Brooke managed to hit him in the groin, and the second he fell back, gasping for air, she ran away. He ran after her and threw her to the ground. He punched her face and then punched it one more time.

"Get off of me!" Brooke yelled through her tears, her vision fogged. She brought her hand back, and gave a solid punch to his nose, causing him to fall back again. This time, she ran as fast as she could to her car and drove off.

Derek had been sitting on the couch for the past two hours waiting for Brooke to come home. He couldn't believe he had said that to her. It had just came out of his mouth and he wanted to take it back the second he had said it. Finally, Brooke came in the door. Brooke had made sure to cover her face before she came in so Derek wouldn't notice anything.

"Hey," He said softly, "I'm really -"

"Save it, Derek," Brooke retorted, not really caring anymore. Right then, when she moved a slight bit to the right, Derek saw it.

"Oh my god, what happened to your face?"

"Nothing," Brooke whispered.

"Something did happen! Brooke!" Derek exclaimed.

"I'm telling you, nothing happened," Brooke said as calmly as she could.

"Brooke, your hurt! Tell me-"

'WHY DO YOU CARE?!" Brooke screamed, "You don't care what happens to me! You don't care about me at all!"

"Brooke, I didn't mean what I said!" Derek tried saying, but Brooke wouldn't let him. She was still screaming.

"NO! You don't care! You wouldn't give a crap that I was almost robbed! You wouldn't care that the guy almost killed me but I managed to get away! Your too busy thinking about your stupid football!" And with that, she ran up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door.

He had decided to let her cool off. But after about an hour, he couldn't help it anymore, he had to go up and talk to her. Derek couldn't believe what had just happened. She had been robbed! And she was hurt. And it was all his fault. It took him a while to get up the stairs but when he did, he went right up to the door and opened it. Brooke was lying on the other side of the bed, pretending to be asleep, when really the tears were still falling down her face.

"Brooke," Derek whispered quietly, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said before." Brooke didn't move or say anything, but Derek sat on the bed, and kept on going.

"I love football. It was a big part of my life. It was a big blow when you told me I couldn't play anymore. I was sad, I was hurt, and I was angry. But I shouldn't have been angry at you. It wasn't your fault I was tackled and hurt that badly. All you were trying to do was help me and make me feel better and all I did was push you away." He stopped there, waiting to see if Brooke would say anything. Anything at all. It was as if she was dead.

"When I said that you don't matter to me, I didn't mean it. I guess I was hurt and I was trying to find a way to hurt you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I love you, Brooke. I'm so, so sorry." Finally, Brooke turned over and looked at him. She had tears running down her cheeks but she smiled and sat up.

"I'm so sorry," Derek whispered again.

"I forgive you," Brooke said, softly.