Hey, beautiful readers! This story has been moved from the combined account with Brookegrace to mine, along with the previous reviews. (Hopefully!)

For any new readers, it's a fic that catches up with Grace (Sophia's character from The Hitcher) and Nick (Chad's character from House of Wax) after their escapes from death. We put it under OTH because they'll eventually find their way to Tree Hill and we'll be adding characters from the show.

Review, review, reviews! Please, please, please!

Love, Nat & Leese

Her hair was glued to her skin, and as she walked along the side the road, she didn't even bother to brush the lose strands from her face. The wind continuously blew sand into her eyes, and no matter how hard she squinted, there was no civilization to be seen. She wasn't even worried, really. Being alone felt good now; walking was a good alternative to thinking. And she knew she couldn't think, because if she did, she would curl into a little ball and sob herself into nothingness.

She was numb to her feelings and to her surroundings. Even the sand was like a twisted, shriveled up hand that kept trying to bring out thoughts of how things had been just a few days previous. Reminding her of her road trip and of her friends, and of her boyfriend – no. She couldn't think about him. She didn't want to think about him. It hurt too much and she knew that it was her fault that he died. At least, that's what she had been telling herself before she decided to stop mourning the loss and pretend it all away. She should have just pulled the trigger when she had been in the cab of the truck.

She noted that the road was empty, except for a lonely car that would travel past her every few hours.

They're smart, she would tell herself. They know better.

"Need a ride?" a voice asked her, drawing her out of her almost catatonic state.

Well, maybe not all. Turning her gaze from the setting sun, Grace tiredly looked to her newest companion.

"Haven't you heard about picking up strangers?" she asked, her eyes fixed back towards the horizon.

"You don't look too threatening," he smirked, pulling the battered pick up truck over so that he was blocking her path.

"Really?" she sighed in annoyance. Her dark hazel eyes now a dull green, as she tried to wearily stand her ground.

"The next town isn't for another thirty miles." He told her as he climbed out of his truck. She noticed he had trouble putting his weight fully onto right leg.

"So?"

"By the time you get there, you'll have wrinkles and your tits will be sagging."

"You're a disgusting pervert and if there was ever a chance of me riding with you – which there wasn't – I'm definitely not now." she spat, her hand angrily strumming through her chocolate locks, which were now stringy and matted down. His eyes narrowed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"It's only a ride," he breathed, watching her eyes turn to him curiously at the sudden vulnerability in his voice. "I don't want to ride another thirty miles alone."

If he hadn't begun to limp back towards his car, he would have seen the melancholy smile that graced her face. The first real emotion she had allowed herself to show in what felt like years. But just like that, it was gone and when she sat down on his passenger seat, her face was void of emotion.

Ten minutes passed by, and every time he would steal a quick glance at her, he would be greeted with the same expression. It was fascinating, really. It fascinated him how someone could be so... inhuman.

"What's your name?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Brooke," she mumbled, casting her eyes down, trying to will the tears away. Grace Brooklyn Andrews. It wasn't really a lie, because in that moment she decided that she was going to leave 'Grace' behind. She needed a fresh start.

"My name's Lucas." Nick Lucas Jones lied. He needed one too.

"I didn't need to know." She told him in a monotone voice. He shrugged, pointing a lazy finger towards the gas station that was now visible in the distance.

~X~

"Do you want anything to eat?" Nick asked, as he watched Grace trail a finger across a row of candy bars.

"Uh uh." she mumbled, offering him a half smile. He could tell it was forced, but he still found it sexy.

"Come on, you probably haven't eaten all day." he coaxed, nodding towards the shelf of candy bars she had backed away from.

"Do you guys have Dingdongs?" Grace asked the Mexican cashier that was lazily scanning the latest issue of Maxim.

"No," he grunted, spitting a string of tobacco into something behind the register. "We have Twinkies."

"Okay." Grace nodded, turning away from Nick and the cashier as she walked towards the isle that held them. She was trying to ignore the pang in her heart.

~X~

"We're going to use the restroom." Nick told Grace as they came out of the store part of the gas station.

"Excuse me?" Grace asked. Yep the guy's definitely a pervert, she thought to herself.

"Look I tried not to say anything, but that cut on your shoulder really needs to be looked at. I think you might need stitches. And a few on your legs could too." Nick told her, a concerned look on his face.

"I'll be fine. And if they needed to be looked at I can do it myself." Grace insisted.

"No you can't." he told her as he moved in front of her and folded his arms. "Do you have eyes in the back of your head?"

No, but I could've done with them when- no don't even go there. She thought to herself. Nick watched her as he saw the mass of emotions wash over her face, before she once again put her emotionless mask back in place.

"Come on. I promise I won't try anything." Nick told her, as she looked at his face. There was something in his voice that intrigued her. That and she was curious as to why he was limping around. "And I need you to return the favor."

~X~

"Can you just move the strap off your shoulder?" Nick asked. They were in the tiny restroom of the gas station that desperately needed a cleaner. The single bulb in the light fitting didn't give off much light and Nick had to really squint to see the wound on her shoulder.

"Uh, sure." Grace replied quietly and moved the strap slightly. She didn't want to show too much flesh. She didn't know him, what if he turns out to be another John Ryder? she suddenly thought. She stiffened slightly at the thought.

"It's okay I'm not going to do anything other than clean this cut." he assured her. There was something about the tone of his voice that made her relax, which surprised her. Especially after everything that had happened to her over the past few days. Grace looked into the grimy mirror in front of her and cringed at her reflection. Her hair was in need of some major TLC and her skin would need at least a month of facials to get anywhere near normal.

Maybe I'll get my hair cut; she thought I'll be less noticeable that way.

She could see Nick behind her as he concentrated on cleaning and dressing the deep cut on her shoulder. She didn't even wince as he cleaned a little deeper and he looked up in surprise. Their eyes met in the mirror and locked for a few moments, before he quickly looked away and continued seeing to her wound. Nick did the task in silence; he was wondering just what had happened to her. She was fairly beaten up and in the need of a shower, but then again so was he.

Whatever it is she's been through, it can't be anything as crazy as what I went through, Nick thought to himself. He had a feeling that Brooke wasn't her real name either, just like Lucas wasn't his.

"Okay that's your shoulder sorted," he told her and she quickly put her straps back into place. "Do you want to do your legs yourself or do-?"

"Yeah, I got them," she said quietly. "Where are you hurt besides your face? And your leg."

"You want the long answer or the short one?" he asked with a slight smile.

"Short one," she answered almost hesitantly. On hearing her answer, Nick moved his hands to the waist of his t-shirt and pulled it up over his head, revealing a battered and bruised torso. Grace gasped in shock at the sight. "Oh my God!"

"That isn't even the half of it."

"You want me to fix up your knee too?"

"It's my thigh and if you could, that would be great." he replied with a smile. "I tried but my ribs are a little too sore and I can't really bend to see it."

"You're going to have to drop your pants." Grace told him.

"What?" Nick asked horrified, not particularly thrilled with the thought of being almost naked in front of her.

"You do have underwear on, right?" she asked slowly.

"Yeah, but-" Nick stuttered before she cut him off.

"Drop 'em." she told him in a bossy voice. "If you want to keep your leg you better stop being a little bitch about it, because that is the only way I'm going to be able to get to your thigh. If it was your ankle, it would be a different story."

"Are you always this bossy?" he asked as he gave her a scowl before doing as he was told. Nick slowly unfastened his jeans and let gravity pull them to the gritty floor. Grace moved her eyes to his right thigh and the makeshift bandage that was wrapped around it; blood seeping through. She knelt once more and began to unravel the soiled material, leaving it on the floor.

"Oh my God! Were you stabbed?" Grace asked in horror, clasping as hand over her mouth, as she took in the deep gash in his flesh.

"Uh, yeah." he stuttered out.

"You're going to need stitches." she told him as she examined just how deep the wound was. It was ironic, really. The sight of this would have made her vomit a few days ago, but I guess when you bash someone's head in, things don't seem as 'yucky' anymore.

"That's why I picked this up," he told her handing her a travel sewing kit. "I had some of those paper stitches on it, but they were a waste of time and fell off about an hour after the ambulance guy put them on."

"You want me to use that on your thigh?" she asked sickened at the thought of putting the needle into his skin. Okay, maybe some things were still yucky. "You know it's going to hurt like a bitch right? Especially because you have really muscley thighs."

"I was guessing it would. But if I go to an E.R they'll only ask me how I got it. Plus it's expensive."

"How did you get it?" Grace asked as she opened the sewing kit. "Any particular color thread you want?"

"I don't really care. You pick one," She smiled a genuine smile, the first one in days, and chose her favorite color; red. "Doesn't me telling you kind of defeat not going to a doctor?" he asked, smirking at the way she rolled her eyes. "Anyways, it's kind of crazy and you wouldn't believe me."

"You'd be surprised what I'd believe right now," she told him as she finished threading the needle. She then cleaned the wound on his knee and he grunted loudly in pain, as she picked the needle and thread up. "Sorry. Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Nick replied. He took a deep breath, as did Grace, as she pierced the needle into his skin and began stitching the deep gash. The fact that his thighs were quite muscular made it hard work. "Shit! That's worse than I thought it would be."

"You want to tell me how you got it? It might take your mind off the pain." Grace asked, as she pulled the red thread tight to begin closing the wound.

"If I tell you my story, you have to tell me yours. It's only fair." he said, his eyes closed, as he grunted again when the needle continued to dance with his throbbing flesh.

"Okay." she mumbled numbly, making yet another stitch.

"I was camping with some friends and this nut job decided he didn't like us. I was getting my sister away from him when he did this." Nick hissed in pain as Grace pulled the thread a little tighter to completely close the flesh.

"Sorry." she apologized as she tied a knot and cut the thread shorter.

She picked up a sterile padded dressing and opened the packaging, pressing it carefully against his wound, the adhesive strip around it held it firmly in place. She then picked up a bandage and opened it before gingerly wrapping it around his thigh. His eyes were now open and he thankfully smiled at her as she secured the bandage with some surgical tape.

"So what happened to you?" he asked as she stood, pulling his jeans up with her so he wouldn't have to bend. She could see his ribs were giving him a lot of pain. He smiled gratefully.

"I was on my way to meet some friends with my boyfriend. Things took a little detour and we didn't quite get there," she began as she set about cleaning the wounds on his chest, trying not to let her eyes wander.

Now isn't the time for that! she mentally scolded herself, as she tended to the cuts on his face.

"Let's just say we had the journey from hell." She sighed, trying to detach herself from the emotions she was feeling. "See," she cooed, turning him towards the mirror. "You are good as new now."

Physically, he thought to himself.

"Thanks, Brooke," Nick told her, pulling his shirt over his bruised body. He winced as his ribs protested. "Are you sure you're not hungry?"

"Actually, I could eat a horse," Grace admitted as she put the medical supplies Nick had stolen from the gas station back into the rucksack he had carried. "It just kind of hit me."

"Come on let's get in the truck and find some diner to eat at." Nick said as they headed out of the restroom.

Walking towards the parked car, the couple ran into the Mexican guy from the station. Nick's fists clenched out of reflex, thinking he was busted for stealing the medical supplies. Instead, the guy just smirked at them, thinking they had been up to something completely different to what they had.