At The End of the Tunnel

An OTH FanFic

By AlexB

Prologue

"What are you doing, Danny? You don't love this boy."

"He's my son."

"And his mother is dead. Last thing he needs is a father who's never been there and never wanted him in the first place. He doesn't know you. All he knows is that his mom is not coming back and he's scared to death."

"All the false parenting in the world will never make that boy yours. Lucas is my son and I'm taking him home with me. He'll have a real family and will be raised the right way. He'll have everything that neither you, nor his mother was ever able to give him. Things that you never will."

"Don't cut me out of this boy's life just because you hate me." Keith growled. "It's not fair to him. He's already lost too much."

"This isn't about you, big brother. It never has been. This is about Lucas. That boy needs stability and security. Two things that you will never be able to provide at the same time."

"You son of a bitch."

"He has a brother his age, so he won't be alone. Don't worry about Lucas, Keith. He'll be fine."

This was not happening. What cosmic evil, what serious wrong has he committed in his life for him to deserve this? The Lord wasn't supposed to give a man more than he could handle. Keith couldn't handle this. It was going to kill him.

He was losing his world. His everything. His family. First Karen, now Lucas. He was going to hell because Keith would never forgive his brother for this and he wished every evil on the man that he could think of.

"Uncle Keith!" Kneeling, he caught Lucas to his chest standing with him. He was crying. Keith felt like letting some tears go himself. He didn't want to go, and Keith didn't want to let him. He thought about, and not for the first time, taking Lucas and just going. Dan had not right. He had never been there!

Physically, Dan tried to pull the boy away, but Lucas fought. He raised holy hell, damn near breaking Dan's nose in the process. Lucas was crying so hard he shook. The little arms he had wrapped around Keith's neck wouldn't have hurt the weakest man. But they hurt him. They hurt Keith something serious, because he knew that no matter how tight the hold, they were about to be pulled apart today.

Dan stood wiping the blood from his nose. He started toward them but stopped. The look in Keith's eyes told him to stay away. If this was going to be it, his one last chance to say goodbye and make it count, he was going to have it. He hadn't had the chance with Karen. He was damn well going to have it with her son.

Kneeling back to the ground, Keith pulled Lucas's arms from around his neck. Smiling through his own pain, he spoke, "No more tears, Skywalker." At the name, Lucas stood up straight wiping the tears from his face with the back of his hand. He did his best to stop anymore tears from falling from his eyes. He sniffed, wiping his hand under his nose.

"I can't keep you here with me, Luke."

"Why?" The boy wanted to know. "I want to be with you. I don't like him. I want you to be my dad, not him."

"I want that too, kid. You will never understand how much. But that can't happen right now, Lucas."

"It'll never happen, Keith."

Ignoring that man he went on. "But you know, Lucas. You know where I'll always be. I'll never leave." He hugged his nephew for what felt like last time, and for Lucas's ears only he said, "You know all my numbers by heart."

"Don't make me go."

"Those numbers won't ever change." Keith went on. "You want to talk to me; all you have to do is pick up the phone and call." Dan Scott, you soulless bastard, he thought with all the hurt anger and anguish he could muster for the man who had never been his brother.

"You'll be bigger soon," Keith spoke to Lucas. "And when you are, you can come home, I promise. You know where the house is. I'll be there. I promise you, Luke. But you have to go with your dad now."

"No!" Lucas started to cry again. He didn't care if he was acting like a baby. He wanted to go home. He wanted his mom. She would keep that other man away.

Keith's eyes burned with pure hatred. "You will burn in the deepest part of hell for this, Dan Scott you hateful bastard." He hugged his nephew tight again. "I love you, Luke. Don't you ever forget that. And don't let anyone ever tell you different. Don't ever forget it." He felt the boy nod against his shoulder.

Keith jerked his wallet from his back pocket. From it he took a wallet sized photo. It was the only one that he had. It was of the three of them sitting on the steps of Karen's house. Lucas's house now. They'd been happy then. Keith put the picture in his nephew's coat pocket. "When you get scared, when you feel sad, you look at this picture, Skywalker. Her me?" Lucas nodded.

"Who loves you?"

The boy sobbed hard. "You."

"Damn right. And who else?"

"Mom who lives in heaven."

"Always. Say it."

Lucas hiccupped then ran a hand over his eyes. "Always."

-One-

He woke up to it every morning. First it was the arguing, and then it was the blaring music from the room next door.

Rolling to his back, Lucas took the earphones from his bedside. Soon his own brand of music filled his ears, drowning out all the noise around him. Looking to up at the ceiling, Lucas didn't let himself think. He didn't let himself remember. Never in this house. It was only a matter of time. Soon he would be going home. And he would never have to come back here again.

When Dan opened the door he found his son on the floor next to the bed doing sit-ups. He had those damn things in his ears. The man seriously doubted that any music traveled through them. But at least he was more respectful about it than his younger brother. Nathan blared his music the point that the whole house had a headache.

He closed the door without saying a word just as he did every morning. And, like every morning, Lucas paid the man no mind. His life had stopped when his mother had been killed and he was taking away from the only father he had ever known. It would begin again when he got to go home, Lucas told himself over and over. This place was just a pit stop. A means to an end.

He stepped out of his room at the same time that Nathan had come from his. He was his younger half-brother. Not that much younger though. Lucas hadn't cared about the dynamics of it. It was what it was. Period. He was here, Nathan was here. There was nothing either of them could do to change that. Though they had tried.

Nathan was still in the room they had shared as six year olds. Lucas had been in there up until he was about eleven. The scar he sported on his chin, and the one that Nathan carried over his eye were testament to the war that had finally made Dan Scott see that he couldn't make them into the brothers that he wanted them to be. Nathan hated him and Lucas could care less about it. He had no feelings toward the boy who was supposed to be his brother. Half-brother.

He paid him no mind, and Nathan stared after him with contempt. He didn't like the fact Lucas was living in his house, and he made no secret about it. It pissed his dad off, but he didn't care. Lucas would never be one of them. They knew it, and he knew it. The sooner he was gone and out of his life, the better.

"Do you want some breakfast, honey?"

"No thank you." Lucas replied habitually as he headed out the front door. He had nothing against Deb. She was trying, but she wasn't his mother, and she never would be. She claimed that she wasn't trying to take his mother's place, but Lucas thought differently. He could be very wrong, but he didn't feel like he was.

Besides, he at breakfast at the one place he had that was his mother's. Karens' café wasn't run by his mother anymore obviously, but the name was still the same. When he graduated, her half of the business would be his. His mother had been smart to keep what she wanted to be his in the hands of someone she trusted.

"Good morning, Lucas. Want some breakfast, babe?"

"Please." He sat up at the counter while Mama James made him a plate of his usual. Karen James and his mother had been best friends since forever. Since the womb. The woman was his godmother. The two women had gone into business together, hence the name of the café. Karens' Café.

Dan couldn't touch him here. M.J. wouldn't allow it. He had been determined to keep him from everything that had reminded him of the mother he lost. He wanted Lucas to get over her and move on to have a life without her. He was going to have to have a life without his mother regardless. But the memories would still be there. The people around him now would make sure of it. They kept Karen Roe a live for him in a way that the only snapshot he had of her never would be able to.

"He's here, you know?" Lucas looked to his side at the girl sitting next to him. Haley was M.J.'s daughter, and his best friend. She nodded toward the back of the diner. He looked that way. Sunlight lit the floor, telling him that the back door was open. "In the back lot."

Swallowing hard, Lucas looked down at his hands.

"He's not mad at you, Luke." Haley spoke softly, enveloping her friend into a tight one armed hug. "Go see him," she whispered into his ear. "You need him, and he needs you. Go." She let him go, nudging him with her shoulder.

Lucas slid from the stool and started toward the back. Stopping at the last minute, he went back to Haley catching her in his own one armed hug from behind; he kissed the top of her head. He didn't have to say the words. He was convinced that this girl could read his mind. She already knew.

He walked slowly to the back and stood at the open door. Keith was there, just like Haley had said. His back was toward the diner, almost like he wanted the sun to warm it. Shoulders that Lucas once remembered being broad enough to carry all the worries of the world on were slumped. Hunched in like he was defeated, or ready to be hit.

"Uncle Keith?"

The big man whirled around. His eyes squinted in the sunlight. Plucking the cigarette from his thin lips, he tossed it into one of the puddles the rain had created the night before.

He looked tired. The lines around his eyes were deeper than Lucas had ever remembered them. He had gray in his hair and his beard that had never been there before. Lucas hadn't cried since that night, but he felt like crying now. He had to swallow down the lump in his throat, blink back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He hadn't seen his uncle since the last time he had run away. That had been six years before...

"Ah, Luke."

"I'm not going back there, Uncle Keith. I won't." Lucas replied adamantly. "I hate that place. I hate that man, and I hate his son. I want to kill him with my bare hands. Look what that little...look what he did to my face!" His chin was split and still bleeding from where Nathan had punched him. That was okay though, he thought. Nathan was probably still bleeding into his right eye.

Keith shook his head. "You can't stay here, Skywalker."

"Stop calling me that!" Lucas yelled. "You don't care about me; you don't get to call me that."

"Luke,"

"You need someone to take care of you." He looked pointedly at the bottle of whiskey in the man's hands. Catching the look, Keith set the bottle aside. "Don't make me go, Keith." He spoke quietly. "Don't make me go away again."

The sound of tires crunching over the gravel drive caught their attention. Lucas looked over his shoulder to Dan who said in the driver's seat. Sunglasses hid the man's eyes. From the backseat, Nathan stared at him with open contempt. Lucas looked back to his uncle.

"If you send me back, I will never forgive you. I won't come back to this place. Ever." He wanted to take the words back when he saw the hurt in the man's eyes. Hurt that he had put there. But Keith hadn't given him the chance.

"Go." Was all that he said.

Lucas's eyes narrowed. "I hate you."

Keith watched his nephew's retreating back as he walked away. Lucas didn't get into the car with Dan and Nathan and he hadn't expected him to. He had walked all this way to get away from them; he would damn sure walk all the way back to a place where he didn't want to be.

"Hey, Luke." The man spoke softly. Still unable to speak, Lucas only nodded. The cold air blew at his ears, making them ache. He could see his breath every time he breathed.

Keith's smile was wan. "Need a hair cut there, son." He coughed at what he said and his face twisted for just the briefest second in anguish. "Uh...um..."

"It's okay." Lucas told him. "I know you didn't mean it."

"Yes I did." Keith spoke roughly. "I meant every damn word. I wished every day since your mother told me that she was pregnant that you were mine. My boy. My son." He cleared his throat. "How you doin'?"

Lucas's answer was a jerk of his shoulder. Right now didn't matter. Not to him. All he was worried about was making it home. He wouldn't tell Keith that though. He couldn't.

"I-uh. I," the man cleared his throat once more. "I haven't touched any alcohol since the last time I saw you, Luke."

"Six years?"

"No," Keith admitted shaking his head. "Three. Last time I saw you on your birthday. You didn't know that I was there, obviously. But I was. Even with all those people there you still weren't happy."

I'm still not happy.

"I've...uh...been fixing up our old house. The one you lived in with your mom."

Home.

"You'll be graduating soon, and when you do the house is yours. Everything that was hers...that was Karen's will be yours. You decide to go to college; it'll all be here when you get back. If you come back."

Lucas nodded again. "That's good. That you stopped drinking in all. That's good." The man smiled.

"Still got other vices though." They were silent then. Keith ran a hand through his hair; Lucas shoved his into his pockets.

"I didn't mean it." He said. "When I told you that I hated you. I didn't mean it."

Keith nodded his head. "I know." He lied.

"When I come home," Lucas asked him. "Will you come home with me?"

-

"Peyton!" She ignored him closing his bedroom door behind her. Starting down the steps, she straightened her clothing. She was too mad to be embarrassed now. She knew that his father was watching her. He was probably laughing his ass off. She didn't know how he could breathe when he was sitting on his face.

You will not cry now, she told herself. She was too mad to let herself cry now. But she wouldn't be able to stop it later.

Her head was down, so she wasn't watching where she was going. Muttering an absent "'Cuse me" she kept on her course.

"Peyton?" His mother. She didn't want to talk to Nathan's mom right now. She was as dim a broken light bulb when it came to her son.

Stepping outside of the Scott house, Peyton pulled in a breath of cold air. Dammit, she thought, left my coat in the house. Well she wasn't about to go back to it. She knew what would happen if she did. All she had to do was get to her car. It was right there in front of her, shining in the fading sunlight.

The engine turned over just as Nathan made his way out of the house. He was clad in only a pair of the many basketball shorts he was forever wearing. As far as bodies went, Nathan was no slouch. The nipple ring that made his parents nuts was a plus, too. But just because a guy was good-looking did not make him the person to be around. She couldn't be around him right now.

"Peyton!"

She lifted her hand giving him the universal sign for what he could go with himself right now as her car pealed away from the curb. She watched him from the rearview mirror. Head down, hands on his hips. The setting sun shone over his half naked body. Any girl who didn't know better would drool over the site. Most of them who did still would.

Her phone rang six times before she even got three blocks away. One look told her missed calls told her that Nathan wasn't even one of them. When she dialed the number back it was answered on the first ring. "What, is your ringer off?"

"I was busy."

"This is cheerleading season," the voice on the other line replied snarkily. "If I can't get in touch with my second command, what good are you? You love life comes second to his squad, P. Sawyer."

"You know what, find another second in command."

"Maybe I will."

"Good luck with that." Peyton hung up before Brooke could even reply. That didn't matter to her in the least. Worrying about hurting Brooke Davis's feelings was not on her agenda at the moment. Tossing the phone onto the passenger's seat, Peyton rubbed at her forehead. She had already dealt with a little bitch today; she did not feel like dealing with the bitch.

Peyton paid the phone no mind when it rang again, driving through Tree Hill's sleepy streets, she couldn't think of one single place she could go right know where'd she'd be able to shut the rest of the world out.

With the top down on her vintage classic, the wind pushed and pulled through her hair, whipping the blond curls over her face. Riding passed the river court; she glanced at the park as the passed. On impulse, she flipped one and drove back, parking her car in the lot under the near naked trees.

Shutting off the engine, she sat. The tears threatened to come, but just like every time before, she willed them back. She would not let herself cry. Not one single tear. What would it accomplish? They were just a waste of time and energy.

He moved over the court like he was playing against himself. Maybe he was. Maybe he was playing against them. Who knew? She'd never asked. When practice was over and done for the day, he was still in the gymnasium. First one on the hardwood, last one to leave it. She remembered watching him one day. He'd shot basket after basket from nearly every spot on the court. That was the first time they had talked. It had been easy. She had always been able to talk to Lucas.

He wasn't cold with her the way he was cold with most everyone else, including his father, his stepmother and his brother. She had never questioned it. Peyton had just been glad that it was there. That he was there.

Pushing out of the car, she made her way over the grass to the blacktop of the basketball court. Of course he hadn't heard her. From under the hood of his sweater, she saw the wires of his earphones. He faked right, moving left, the rubber soles of his shoes squeaked on the asphalt.

He took one step, two, shot the ball into the air. It bricked, but he knew that it would. Lucas took a running start, his feet left the ground. With one hand, he reached for the ball coming from the rim; then slammed it home in the basket. The force was big enough to shake the backboard.

The ball rolled her way and she waited. Breathing hard, he looked around for his rebound. Turning, Lucas stopped. Peyton stood on the sidelines; his ball was wedged under her blue high-tops that were decorated in her own special "Peyton" way.

He pulled the hood from over his head, taking his earphones out; he stuck them in the front pocket of his sweater. She looked cold. And like she was about to cry. It wouldn't take three guesses to figure out why. Who.

Walking toward her, he pulled the sweatshirt up over his head, taking his t-shirt with it. He caught it before he was half-naked in front of her. Not that Lucas cared. He just wasn't sure if she did. The cold air on his skin caused him to suck in a breath. Fresh goose-bumps broke out along his arms, but he didn't care. She needed to feel warm more than he did.

He pulled the sweater over her head and waited. Peyton obediently slipped her arms into the sweater, but she couldn't let herself look at him. Lucas wrapped her arms around her then. Hers moved around his waist. When she rested her head on his chest, Lucas let his eyes close. Burrowing his face in her hair, he breathed deep.

Nathan didn't deserve her. Peyton didn't deserve him. When? When was she finally going to open her eyes? What was is going to take for Peyton to see that she worth it? How long was it going to be for Peyton to see what was right there in front of her?

He hugged his arms tighter around her shoulders. Kissed her hair, her cheek, her ear. He whispered to her, telling her that everything was going to be okay. Lucas didn't know if the words were true, only that she needed to hear them. He needed to hear them, too.

Peyton turned her head, nudging her lips to his. Lucas froze. He didn't want to push. She had kissed him first, yes, but it could have been a mistake. When her lips nudged his again this time only longer, he kissed her back. Tentatively at first, then with all that he had when he knew that she was with him every step of the way. When he knew it was real.

He pushed his fingers through the softness that was her hair, balling them into loose fists around the swirling curly mass. She gripped the t-shirt at his waist with both hands. This was really happening, he thought. Sweet Mary mother of God, this was happening. He wasn't dreaming. When she nipped him, he felt it.

Peyton pulled back for all of three seconds for some adequate air then started back to kissing him again. She rose up on her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck, sliding her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. His hands move from her hair to rest at her waist.

Lucas shivered, but not from the cold. He would be stupid to expect much more from this. So he didn't. She was hurting because of Nathan. Using him to vent whatever else it was that she was feeling. He hated it, but he couldn't turn her away. He wanted her too much. He wanted her to want him too much. If this was all he got, then he would gladly take it.

This was a kiss that he would gladly take. His first ever. Maybe the only with her.