INTRO: Fanfic crossover where Tim Riggins of Friday Night Lights moves to Tree Hill. Timeline is a little off. Assume Tim is the same age as the Tree Hill Gang. See how Tim's life changes when he moves to Tree Hill. Appearances by characters from both series. No Julian.
It was the summer of 2011 when Tim Riggins moved to Tree Hill. He had just completed a one year stay in prison for his part in the running of his older brother, Billy's, chop shop.
Tim had been out of jail for just a few months when he realized that there was nothing for him in Texas. His best friend, Jason Street had moved to New York with his family. The first love of his life, Tyra Collette had moved on and gone to college, and his second, Lyla Garrity, had done the same. Billy had a wife and a son, with another baby on the way. Even Coach Taylor had left, moving to Pennsylvania and joining a new football team. Everybody Tim loved was gone and he did not fit in.
He could not go back to work at Billy's garage, it would be too weird at this point. Working for Mr. Garrity was an option, but he hated the assholes that came into his bar. There was no way to get a real job due to his lack of a college degree.
It hit Tim hard when he realized it was time to leave his beloved Texas. There was a point in his life not that long ago when the state held everything he needed. Football, family, friends, and beer. Those four things had helped Tim make it this far, and they were quickly fading away.
Football ended when Tim dropped out of college. He coached a little bit afterwards but it was not the same.
Since taking the fall for Billy in the chop shop ordeal, the two had grown more distant. Tim was staying in a trailer on the other side of town, and his visits grew less and less frequent. Aside from Billy he really had no family. His mother had run off when they were younger and their dad did the same.
All of Tim's friends were gone. Jason, Lyla, Tyra, Matt, all moved on. It seemed like everyone knew that this whole idea he had of Texas forever was some big joke, and he was the only one who never saw it.
That just left beer. A lot of beer. Tim was the kind of guy who fell into heavy drinking binges when he was alone, and this was one of those times. He drank until he passed out everyday for about two weeks and then came to a decision. It was time to leave Dillon, Texas once and for all.
There was not much he had to do before leaving. Everything Tim owned fit in his truck and he did not really have anyone to say goodbye to. He thought about going to see Billy one last time, but instead wrote him a letter. Writing that letter was one of the hardest things Tim ever had to do. How could he tell the man who raised him that he was not good enough to keep Tim from leaving? It took him a few days to put the words on paper. When the letter was finally complete, it read,
Dear Billy,
I really can't think of a better way to do this. I'm leaving Dillon. Thanks for everything you've done for me. Maybe I'll see you around some time.
Tim.
Tim felt really horrible about leaving things like that, but he did not want to give Billy a chance to convince him to stay. He drove by the house late at night, stuffed the paper in the mailbox, and quickly drove away. He drove away and never looked back. Tim drove all through the night with no destination in mind.
Tim saw all kinds of places he had never seen before. He stopped in various towns and cities, mostly to drink. Some nights he would rent hotels, some nights he would sleep in his truck. Occasionally Tim would meet girls and spend the night with them. None of them meant anything to him. They were not Tyra. They were not Lyla.
Tim made stops in New Orleans, Mobile, Atlanta, and took in all they had to offer, but none of them felt like home. He was not going to stop until he found a place that gave him what Dillon used to.
It had been about two weeks since the trip started when Tim crossed into North Carolina. He drove right along the coast and eventually found a town to stay in for the night. The town was called Tree Hill and it was the definition of small town. At the time, Tim thought nothing of the place and figured it would just be another stop on his journey. He parked his truck in front of a café, lay down across the seat and drifted slowly off to sleep.
That night Tim dreamed of the past. He imagined himself back in a Dillon Panthers football uniform, saw himself kissing Lyla behind the bleachers, and thought of Billy.
He was suddenly awoken by the sound of tapping on his truck window. He groggily opened his eyes, struggling to see in the blinding morning sunlight. The guy at the window had short, sandy blonde hair and had a puzzled look on his face. Tim rolled down the window.
"Hey, what are you doing here man?" asked the man on the sidewalk.
"Uh, sorry. I was just passing through and couldn't find anywhere to crash," answered Tim, still half asleep.
"So you picked right on Main Street?" the man questioned.
"Uh, yeah I guess I did," Tim said back.
"Well why don't you come inside and have some breakfast before you 'pass through?'"
"Yeah, I guess I could do that."
"I'm Lucas by the way."
"Tim."
