Nathan took another look around and swallowed that sour, bitter tang in his mouth. The hospital room Lucas had been assigned was private and airy and probably reserved for VIPs on most days, but that wasn't important right now and a big part of Nathan knew it. So what if Dan Scott had pulled a few strings to get Lucas in here? That was his right as a concerned father, wasn't it? God knows the man had pulled enough strings for Nate himself throughout his life, so begrudging Lucas a little pampering after all these years was childish and petty and totally beneath him.

As he squirmed in his chair for the tenth time in as many minutes, Nathan reminded himself of this fact once again, then reminded himself of it again a few seconds later. Three minutes later, he was still whispering it to himself for the bazillionth time when the shifting figure under the bedsheet caught his attention. Instantly, he stopped fidgeting and leaned forward, his blue eyes fixed on his brother's face.

"Luke? ... Open your eyes, big brother ... We need to talk ... Come on, man ... You've slept long enough ... Come back to me."

Lucas Scott didn't want to. He had awoken for the first time much earlier that morning and learned from the doctor what his condition had been the last few days, but his prayers about skipping ahead one week obviously hadn't been answered. His whole skull was still throbbing and Nathan's nagging wasn't helping at all. He turned his head away and tried to slip back into unconsciousness, but that voice was always there, buzzing in his ear, refusing to let him go. He felt a hand on his arm and another on his chest, patting him over and over despite his groans, and then shortly thereafter, he felt a straw worming itself between his lips, encouraging him to drink. Much as he wanted to he couldn't turn that down. He sipped automatically faster and faster until his cup was drained, and then he blinked without meaning to, his eyes coming to rest immediately on the relieved face of his younger sibling.

"It's about time you woke up." Nathan let out a shaky laugh. "You had me and Dan worried for awhile there. How do you feel?"

Lucas didn't budge and he definitely didn't smile back. "I feel ... like a lot of things are ... clear now."

"Like what?"

"Like ... like the fact that I need to track down Uncle Keith ... and go live with him for starters."

For well over a minute silence reigned as the happy glow faded from Nathan's face. The star player of the Tree Hill Ravens waited for Lucas to take back what he'd just said, then finally did it himself when the boy refused to speak.

"You can't do that, Luke ... and you're not going to."

"Oh no?" Lucas set his jaw and shifted his gaze to the ceiling. "Watch me."

Nathan sat back in his chair and snorted. "Fine. Be a selfish buttwipe, if you want to. But aren't you forgetting that Dad has custody of you now that your mom's overseas?"

"So? You think that's gonna stop me from getting away to somewhere safe?"

"You are safe with us, knucklehead."

"Like hell I am. You tried to kill me."

"I didn't try to kill you!" Nathan exploded. "I just —"

"You just body-checked me in the shallow end of the pool is all! You checked me so hard I'm in the hospital!"

As Lucas glared at him now, his fists bunching up handfuls of the hospital blankets, Nathan opened his mouth to retort then shut it. He stared down at his sneakers.

"I know, Luke. I'm sorry."

"You put me in a coma for almost two days."

"I know, goddammit. I said I was sorry."

Lucas shook his bandaged head despite the pain that lanced through his skull. "Sorry doesn't cut it this time. Last week you nearly broke my arm, and three weeks ago your stupid determination to pick a fight the second you see me in the house cost me six stitches in my back. And that's not counting the four you cost me at the beginning of summer less than a day after I moved in with you and Dan."

"Look, I didn't mean any of it, okay? Can't you just let it go already?"

"Why the hell should I?"

Nathan glanced up at him angrily a moment then dropped his gaze as he rubbed unconsciously at the bones in his right hand. He shifted his weight in the chair. "Because you're better than that ... you're forgiving ... and because ... because ... I've just been having a really hard time ... you know ... sharing Dad with a —"

"Save it," Lucas said. He felt for the hospital's bedside call button then pressed it and held it down. "You want to be an only child again? You want Daddy all to yourself so bad? No problem, brother. You win."

"Christ, Luke, I don't want —"

"Shut up and get out. I'm gone from Tree Hill the second these doctors release me."

A stocky nurse barged into the room, but Nathan ignored her and leaned forward again.

"Will you just listen a minute? Don't be a —"

"I said, get out!"

Nathan did. He had no choice but to do exactly that thanks to "Nurse Ratched" and her bulk now blocking the path to his brother and forcing him out, but that didn't mean he left gracefully. With a few choice words for both Lucas and the RN, he shoved his hands in his letterman's jacket then stalked out the door, down the hallway and straight for the closest exit, too blinded by anger to notice where he was going. He toured the parking lot twice before he found his car, but the moment he sat in the driver's seat and slammed the door after him, he threw the keys at the windshield then punched the steering wheel repeatedly with everything he could muster. When he was spent, he sat in place and panted. A few minutes later, he retrieved his keys, stepped back out of the car, locked it and returned to the hospital. In the empty stairway closest to his brother's room, he paced the floor and bit the nail on his right thumb, waiting for Lucas to calm down and that battleaxe of a nurse of his to go off duty. Finally, when an entire hour had passed and he judged that he had waited long enough, he peeked into the hall, waited for the coast was clear, then slipped once again next door.

Luck was only partially with him. Lucas was asleep.

Nathan stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and stood at his bedside, staring at him. When Dan returned shortly thereafter, nothing changed. He ignored the man's attempts at small talk and stayed where was until the afternoon shadows began to lengthen, the doctor passed by on his rounds and eventually a different nurse wheeled in the supper tray. Dan lifted the cover, took one disgusted look and immediately dumped the contents in the trash bin with the assertion that no convalescing son of his would see that slop never mind eat it. Within seconds, he was on his cell phone and using his clout as Mayor to force a local upscale restaurant to deliver, and as Nathan watched him storm out to go find someone in charge of the hospital to complain to, the green-eyed monster that was always sitting on Nathan's shoulder lately tried to whisper once again in his ear.

That was the last thing he needed.

He forced himself to turn away and concentrate on his brother's face, his hands gripping the bed rail hard to gather strength. Abruptly, blue eyes met blue. Nathan's breath caught as he waited for a newly awakened Lucas to give him grief, but the boy didn't speak and his expression was inscrutable. Little by little, Nathan relaxed until finally he offered his sibling a tentative half-grin.

"Hey. Welcome back."

"I told you to leave."

As Lucas promptly began reaching for the call button again, Nathan's smile disintegrated. He pounced on the button quick and wrenched it from the wall then drop-kicked it for good measure.

"Forget it," he told his fuming brother. "You may want me to leave, but tough. You're hurt and it's my fault you're in here, so I'm not leaving your side no matter how many butt-ugly nurses you try and sic on me. And you can just deal with it."

Nathan more than expected Lucas to get up to fetch the nurse himself, but the boy evidently thought better of moving his head that much. He shifted away from Nathan onto his left side and glared at the window instead. "Whatever, jackass."

Nathan took that the only way he could. He pulled up a chair and sat in it where Lucas could easily see him, and then he nudged his grumpy brother under the blankets.

"Dad was just here, in case you're wondering. He saw the garbage on your supper tray and left to go get you something decent to eat." Nathan paused to allow his brother to interject but Lucas stubbornly resisting commenting. "Anyway, you should've heard him on the phone. He was completely in his element. He was like—"

"Do I look like I care?"

Nathan shut his mouth. It would be so easy to issue a sarcastic retort, or worse still, to finish his last train of thought anyway as though his brother's opinion was irrelevant ... but it wasn't irrelevant and never had been. Nathan knew exactly what Lucas was thinking. He shifted his weight on the chair and gathered his courage, knowing it was high time he said what had been on his mind all day.

"To be honest ... no," he said. "You don't care. You don't care about Dad visiting you or about me being here right now, and I get it. I get that you're pissed because you think I'm spoiled. We fight at home all the time and then we get hurt." At the disgusted snort Lucas expelled, Nathan rolled his eyes and amended his last statement. "Okay, fine, usually I hurt you worse. But then Dad gives us crap while you get patched up and then that's it. No penalties. No grief for whoever threw the first punch, which is pretty much always me, am I right?"

Lucas pulled the blankets tighter around his body. "What do you think?" he grumbled.

"I think you can stop being pissed," Nathan said. He shifted his weight in the chair again and tried not to think about his face, which he knew was becoming deeply flushed. "Look ... I got in big trouble this time. Two nights ago after ... after we got home from checking you into the hospital ... Dad ... he ..."

Both curious and suspicious despite his best efforts not to be, Lucas gave up staring out at the sky and turned his attention to his brother. "Dad what?" he demanded.

Nathan refused to make eye contact. "He ... he kicked my ass, Luke ... like ... hard."

"What, kicked your ass like he did that time you told me you pissed him off by walking Billy Lyons in Little League?" Lucas returned his attention to the window. "Wow, I'm impressed."

"No, you don't get it. He —"

"What's not to get? I end up in a coma and you get a shoeprint on the seat of your shorts. Sounds fair."

"Shut up, man That's not what I meant." Nathan shook his head in frustration. "Dad didn't kick me kick me. He —"

"Great. You were lying about even getting that."

"Will you shut the hell up and let me finish?" As Lucas shot him a look then deliberately reached for the copy of Sports Illustrated on his night-table, rolled onto his back and began to flip through it, Nathan took a deep breath and resisted the urge to send the magazine flying across the room. He pushed to his feet and stalked to the window where he promptly spun on his heel, returned to the chair and plopped back down. "Listen, man, he didn't kick my ass literally, but what he did was way worse."

Lucas flipped a page. "And what was that I wonder?"

"He whipped it with a belt."

For what felt like forever to Nathan, Lucas said nothing, but then inch by inch the magazine he was hiding behind came down and the brothers were face to face. While Lucas studied him, Nathan did his best to look honest, since he was being honest, but he had no doubts at all that his brother would accuse him of lying anyway.

He wasn't wrong.

"Bullshit," Lucas finally said.

Nathan didn't blink. "You're an idiot if you think so. There's no way I'd confess a thing like that if it wasn't true."

"You're his favori—"

"Am I?"

"Yes. Dan would never —"

"He did."

"I don't believe it."

Nathan stared hard at Lucas a moment, then shook his head and sighed his irritation. Without another word, he stood up, turned his back and shoved his track pants and boxers down to mid-thigh. The marks on his butt weren't as numerous or as vivid as they had been initially, but the four hardest licks were still visible, and Nathan knew they were because he kept checking them himself periodically.

"Believe that?" he asked. He glanced over his shoulder to ensure his brother was taking a good look, then counted three seconds in his head. When the time was up, he yanked his pants back into place, faced his brother once again and stuffed his hands in his front pockets. "I'm not showing you that again, Luke, so get it through your thick skull. He belted me. Over his knee. In punishment. 'Cause of what I did to you."

The magazine was forgotten as Lucas lay silently a moment, frowning at the wall opposite. Finally, he stared up at Nathan in confusion. "It's impossible. Dan wouldn't do that just for me."

"He did."

"No, he —"

"He did, Lucas. I just proved it."

"No. No, you didn't. Someone hit you, yes, but —"

"But nothing. Geez, I'm telling you, Dan did it."

"Well ... well, fine, but who says he did it for me? He must've done it 'cause you pissed him off about something el—"

"No, he did it for you, and I know he did it for you because every time he branded me with that stupid strip of leather, he yelled at me for being a bully." Right away, a frowning Lucas opened his mouth again but Nathan beat him to it. "Yeah, I know, I know. Pot meet kettle, but who cares if he was being a hypocrite, Luke? He's still right. We're supposed to have each other's back and not for stabbing either. We're supposed to be brothers in all ways, not just one. He wants it, you want it ..." Nathan looked away, then took a breath and met Luke's eyes again, "...and I want it too, even if I've been too stubborn and stupid to show it lately." He hunched his shoulders and rocked on his feet a bit, then shrugged and offered his right fist to his sibling. "Forgive?"

Lucas stared at the arm extended toward him and wanted to slap it away. Nathan could just take his long overdue apology and shove it right in between those strap marks on his backside ... but then if Lucas forced him to do that ... neither brother would get what he wanted in the end – especially not Lucas himself who had craved this moment from the second he discovered as a kid who his real father was.

Goddammit.

He set his jaw but raised his own right arm anyway and bumped the fist being offered.

"You're still an ass," he couldn't help saying. "I really hate you sometimes."

A grinning Nathan flipped his chair around and straddled it so they were side-by-side facing the television. "You forgive me though."

"I have to, jackhole. It's what brothers do."

Nathan's smile seemed to extend a country mile as he reached for the remote control, pressed the power button, then began to channel-surf. He wasn't aware at first that he had begun shifting his weight again to alleviate the lingering soreness from Dan's belt, but he sure realized it fast once the persistent snickering from his right forced him to glance over at his brother.

"Quit laughing, dude, and quit staring. It's not funny."

"Like hell it's not." Lucas snorted once more at the image in his head that refused to fade. "You actually got spanked by Daddy." Nathan punched him in the arm then turned back to the TV, so Lucas promptly used that same arm to reach out and sock him in the shoulder. "C'mon, man, tell me. Did you cry?"

"What do you think, genius? You saw the marks. He nearly half-killed me." As Nathan suddenly heard himself, he whipped his head to the right. "You tell anyone, Lucas Scott, and I swear I'll —"

"I won't," Luke promised. He forced himself to quit grinning so wide and held up the first three fingers on his right hand. "Seriously, Nate. Not even Tim." When Nathan said nothing in return and only looked at him in fixed concentration, all lingering amusement faded from Lucas's face. He felt that old quiver in his stomach and braced himself for a hurtful remark. "What? What is it?"

Nathan muted the television set then stared him straight in the eye. "We were supposed to grow up together, did you know that?"

"What do you me—"

"Us. Playing ball. Living in the same house. Sharing the same friends. That's the way it was supposed to be from the start. There was never supposed to be a me versus you, this prince vs pauper crap, like, 95% of our lives wasted."

Lucas felt his heart beginning to pound. "Says who?"

"Says your father and mine." Nathan shook his head in disgust until he could bring himself to continue. "After he finally dropped that damn belt of his and I started freaking out at him for caring what I do to you now when he didn't give two shits the first sixteen years of our lives, he kinda yelled back that us being separated was a mistake."

"A mistake? A mistake?"

"My reaction exactly. I asked him what he meant and —"

"And let me guess. He walked away, right?"

"He tried. He definitely tried, but I kept hounding him until he finally admitted that he wanted to share custody of you with your mom, but she kept saying no and he couldn't get her to change her mind. And then Keith kept stepping in and taking you over like you were his son, and Dad, well, he just got more and more pissed off until —"

"Until he gave up and decided to be a prick about the whole thing."

Mega rage was building on Lucas's face. Nathan could see it because it was the same rage he himself had been feeling the last two days every time he took a moment to really process what he'd learned. Lucas was already hurt in the hospital though and his heart was weak; he didn't need a stroke on top of a coma right now. In fact, Nathan had been an idiot to tell him anything so soon.

As Luke's fists began to bunch once more in his blankets, Nathan knew he had to man up and be the voice of reason.

"Hold it, big brother. Dad didn't really give up, or you wouldn't be living with us now."

Lucas shoved the magazine off his lap. "Don't give me that, Nate. He gave up. He made me feel like I wasn't his son or your brother, and you know he did. You were right there so many times. How can you —"

"BECAUSE IT'S DIFFERENT NOW!" Almost as much as Lucas did Nathan actually recoiled from his sudden shout, but then he pulled himself together. "Well, it is, isn't it?" He waited a long time but eventually he was rewarded when his brother gave the smallest, most grudging of nods. "All right then. Let's just forget the past 'cause we can't change it. The only thing we can control is our future and I say we do that starting today. Fifty years from now, no matter what Dan or Karen or Keith or anyone else says or does to us from here on out, you and me are still gonna be close. We'll prove to everyone that a rotten start doesn't matter. Deal?"

There was still some hesitation but not nearly as much this time around. Once Lucas nodded, the boys bumped fists again harder than ever before then returned their attention to the TV as Nathan jabbed the volume button on the remote control. SportsCenter was a great distraction ... for five minutes. Then Nathan winced and shifted in his seat and that telltale snickering began again.

"Lucas, I swear to God ..."