Had to write it out, it was eating my brain alive. Had to share it, because I wrote it out. Read and review.

"Welcome back everybody, if you haven't been watching; you've been missing out on the best game so far this season."

"That's right, Mike. It's the battle at home right now for point guard Nathan Scott and his Clippers, who are currently down by 2 with 15 seconds left on the clock. Who's do you think will be taking this shot?"

"Easily, Scott. Del Negro loves giving him the last shot just as much as he loves taking it."

"Can't wait to see how this one plays out. Barnes inbounds the ball to Scott…"

Nathan glanced at up at the jumbotron, trying to ignore the close up of his face plastered on all sides of it, he checked the clock. 14.6 seconds. Looking back ahead of him, there were already two players charging at him. He passed the ball back to Barnes and made his way past the half court line, before retrieving the ball again. He glanced at the clock again. 10.2 seconds. Breathe Nate, watch his hands. He watched the right arm of the other player move in and dribbled the ball between his legs. That's it. He smiled to himself.

"That's all you got, Scott? This shot's on you, don't choke now." Nathan heard the other player egg.

He shook his head with a chuckle and gave a quick pass to Blake Griffin, before taking off to the corner of the three point line. He watched as the other teams defense moved completely inside as Blake drove for the hoop. 4 on 1? He'll pass it. He took a quick glance at his feet to make sure he was behind the line, and just as he thought, when he looked up, Blake faked a lay-up and passed it outside, right to him. Nathan felt immediate relief at how open his look was. He snatched the ball from the air and steadied his feet; he looked at the clock behind the basket, 2.8 seconds. He took a deep breath and saw the other team's center running towards him full speed. Now or never, he thought, jumping up and releasing his shot.

At about the same time the game clock went off, so did a whistle, as Nathan was hit by the much taller center and was sent flying back into seats and the crowd.

"IT'S IN! CLIPPERS WIN! CLIPPERS WIN! THEY'RE IN THE PLAYOFFS!"

Staples Center started to uproar as soon as the shot went in, but it almost died down just as quickly when they noticed the Clippers weren't celebrating. They were hovered over a group of knocked over chairs, where Nathan had landed moments before.

The entire arena fell silent as the team dispersed so that the team doctor could get through.

"Looks like Nathan Scott is down, Mike."

"He definitely took a hard hit; I hope it's not too bad. The Clippers won't mean much in the playoffs without their leader Nathan Scott…"

"I don't understand why you watch that crap."

Nathan sighed as he heard him step closer to him and turned off the TV. "It's not your place to understand."

"It is mine though." Nathan heard another voice from behind him.

Nathan shook his head. "You're fired."

Clay rolled his eyes. "Well, I un-fire myself."

Lucas shook his head as he walked into the living more, glancing at all the beer bottles on the table and the almost empty bottle of tequila in Nathan's hand. "This place is disgusting, Nate."

Nathan looked up at him and glared. "Then leave."

"Not gonna happen." Clay chimed, walking to stand in his eye-view.

Nathan sighed and ran his fingers through his long hair. "What do you guys want?"

Lucas shrugged. "We could start with a shower."

"Then we could work on getting you out of this crap." Clay kicked his wheelchair lightly.

"Clay, my career's over. This chair is the least of my problems."

"This chair is your problem." He countered. "And you need to be out of it."

"I don't care anymore."

"You need to care. Your contracts up Nate, you need to be healthy in 6 months or the Clippers are going to let you go."

Nate shook his head. "DO YOU NOT SEE THIS FUCKING WHEELCHAIR, CLAY!? MY CAREERS OVER!" He shouted, tossing the TV remote.

"You can heal in 6 months with physical therapy." He argued in a calm tone.

Nathan looked down. "Good thing I don't give a shit."

Clay sighed and rubbed his forehead, looking to Lucas.

"Can we have a minute alone?" Lucas asked. Clay nodded and made his way out.

Luke sighed and took a look around the big living room; it was a complete disaster in this house. He walked next to the wheelchair and kneeled down so that their faces were level. "Listen little brother, I know you're breaking yourself down as best you can and these words may not mean a thing, but this isn't over. You're Nathan Scott, sure future hall of famer; you got the best three point average in the league since 1984. If you're gonna let this stop you," He tapped the wheelchair, "No one can change your mind." He stood up again. "But know this, you had a choice. This was your decision." He stated as he walked out of the house.

Nathan looked up slowly when he heard the door shut and rubbed the tear from his eye. He looked back at the door to make sure he was gone, and then took another swig from the bottle in his firm grip. Who the hell did Luke think he was telling him what he was and wasn't capable of? He didn't have to sit in this chair all day. He didn't have to watch his team lose the championship because he wasn't there. He didn't watch everything he's ever worked for slip right from his hands in a matter of three seconds. No, Lucas Scott had no clue what he was going through, what he was dealing with. Even if he could stand up, even if he could get out there and play the game, he would have no one. He already let his team and his fans down when he couldn't be there for the finals. It was useless. The only thing that seemed logical to do at this point was sit in this chair, and drink from this bottle. And that's exactly what he did.

Lucas walked out of the house and shook his head at Clay, who was leaning against his car. "I don't know what to do."

Clay crossed his arms over his chest. "You think he could do it with physical therapy?"

Lucas walked next to him and leaned against the car as well. "I think that the Nathan Scott we knew three months ago could have, I'm not so sure about this one."

Clay nodded and uncrossed his arms. He unhooked his keys from his belt loop and unlocked his car as he walked over to it.

"Where are you going?" Lucas asked as he started to walk away.

"I have an idea, I'll call you later." He answered quickly, hoping into his Sting Ray and speeding out of the driveway.

Lucas put his hands up in confusion as he backed out but Clay was soon gone. He dropped his hands and they clapped at his sides as he turned back to look at the house. After thinking for all of five seconds, he decided going in there wouldn't be a good idea and got in his car and took off as well.

Clay sped through Nathan's Palos Verdes hills glancing at the time on the dash way more times than necessary. It was 4:30, he had 30 minutes to get to Manhattan Beach, which would be doable, but it would be cutting it close. Add traffic into that equation and the odds were against him. He pressed harder on the pedal as he got on the freeway off-ramp and prayed the cops were busy right now.

Clay tried not to gaze at the ocean as he drove down PCH, he sighed as he looked at the time again. 5:10, hopefully she's here. He pulled into the parking lot next to the all too familiar glass building. It was just as huge and beautiful as it always was, the sun and reflection of the ocean projected off of the mirror windows on the outside, towering above all the other buildings and houses also along the water. It was by far the most beautiful place for someone to build a private hospital and healing center.

He couldn't suppress the smile the graced his features when he saw her red Cayman parked in its usual spot. Her spot. He parked his car next to hers, ignore the name on the sign of whoever the spot belonged too, getting out of his car he leaned up against hers and waited, he knew she wouldn't be long. She always worked the same hours.

Clay proved himself right when he saw the small woman come walking out of the glass doors. Her head was down and she was looking at her phone, while her other hand clutched a huge stack of papers. He smiled as he looked her up and down. She always looked elegant. She was wearing a knee high pinstriped skirt, and a sleeveless purple button up top. Her hair was still blonde and curly, but it was much shorter than before. Instead of being at the middle of her back, it was just past her shoulders. He watched her head start to lift and tried to plaster a smile on his face.

Haley stopped in her tracks when she lifted her head and saw him standing against her car. She saw that nervous smile on his face and knew whatever it was that brought him here, she had control of this situation and she tried to mask her shock as she continued her walk towards him.

"Hey Haley." He smiled as she got close enough to him.

She didn't say hi, just stared at him until she got to the hood of her car and placed her stuff on top of it. "What favor will I be doing for you today, Clay?"

He sighed and looked away from her. "It's not like that, Haley."

"Oh, so you're here just to chat? That might have been nice when mom and dad died, or I don't know maybe all the months after that, but right now it's really not welcomed." She faked a smile at him as she picked her stuff back up and walked towards her door.

He watched as she started throwing her stuff in the car, but instead of getting in, she slammed the door and walked back over to him. "You have nothing to say?" She asked in a testy voice as she approached his leaning figure.

He put his arms out and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I know I've been a really shitty brother, and I'm sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me, or even talk to me for that matter. I was in a dark place and I was selfish and mean and every day I wish I could take it back and be better, but I can't. I know it hurt and that you did it alone and I'm so sorry." He moved his hands from her shoulders to her face and wiped the tear as he lightly held her face. "It… It is a favor." He mumbled the last bit.

He listened to her sniff her nose and when she left out a soft laugh he dropped his hands from her face. "What do you need?" She asked, looking down.

"Haley, I mean everything I said I just really ne-"

"Just tell me what you need." She cut off, finally looking up to him. He saw the blank look behind her big brown eyes and wanted to steer this conversation back to where it should be, but Nathan really needed help right now.

"One of my clients got a really bad injury last season. He messed up his back really badly and now he's in a wheel chair. He's got six months to get up and going again and the doctor said it's possible but he has to want it." He explained as quickly as possible.

She shrugged. "There's a lot of people that can get him going in six months, Clay."

He shook his head. "Not Nathan Scott, he's in a bad place. He needs the best, Haley. That's you."

"Nathan Scott?"

He looked up to her. "Yes…"

"I'll do it." She answered quickly.

"What?" He looked at her in disbelief.

"I'll do it." She spoke again.

"That easy?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

She shrugged. "He's paying me; I don't care if you're my brother."

He smiled and nodded. "That's fine with me. I should warn you though… he's in a dark place right now. It's really bad, like his hygiene is non-existent and he drinks himself into a stupor all day."

She laughed a little and Clay raised a confused eyebrow. "He's watching his whole life disappear; I don't expect him to be singing from the rooftops." She patted his shoulder and started to way back to her driver's side door. "Just text me his address and I'll stop by there tomorrow. He's doesn't know what he's in for." She half joked as she got into her car.

He hopped off her hood and quickly ran to her now closed door and leaned on the open window. "Wait up," He pulled his phone out. "I don't… have your number." He finished slowly, he realized halfway through his sentence that he shouldn't have to ask this question. He should know his own sister's phone number.

She took it from him and punched the number in. "I'll call you in the morning and tell you how it goes."

He took his phone from her. "You don't want me to be there?" He didn't really like the idea of that.

She shook her head. "We need to be alone. I don't need any more walls up than I'm sure there already are."

Clay just sighed. He wanted to argue with her, but he knew he was teetering on the edge of her even doing this and decided against pushing his luck. He nodded. "Just be ready, he's really good at being an ass these days."

She seemingly blew off his comment as she placed her sunglasses on and turned her car on. "Text me." She stated, backing out of the spot quickly and taking off.

He waved bye to her and waited until she pulled out of the driveway before pulling his phone out and calling Lucas. He picked up quickly. "Hey man, okay so here's the deal…"

"Lucas, this is my sister, Dr. Haley James. Haley, this is Lucas Scott." Clay greeted as Haley walked up to them, they were currently standing in the drive way of Nathan Scott's obnoxiously big mansion. Haley shook his hand and matched his sincere smile. "Nice to meet you."

"You too. Thanks a lot for the help; I've heard a lot about you. You're like the sports miracle worker." Lucas admired, holding a key out to her. "That's the spare key."

She smiled and took it from him. "Thanks, where is he?"

"Probably asleep in the spare bedroom. It's downstairs, he doesn't go upstairs." He added for some clarification.

She nodded in understanding. "Alright, you guys get out of here. I'll keep in touch." She patted both of their shoulders as she moved them aside, walking in between them. She didn't look back to see their reaction as she made her way into the house.

"Oh, ew." She whined, looking around the house. The first thing you could see was the living room, which was surrounded in beer bottles, more than she'd ever imagined seeing. Walking closer she noticed all of the broken pictures and trophies that smelt of tequila spread out across the floor in front of a broken trophy case. She walked into the kitchen next and didn't have to see much more after that. Dishes were piled to the top of both sinks, as well as others along the counters. There were pizza boxes and more bottles of alcohol all over the island and floor. This place was absolutely disgusting, just as she had expected.

She made a quick walk out to her car and grabbed all of her bags from the store. A couple of bottles of cleaner, a mop, a broom, and dish soap, sponges, Clorox, ect; everything you would need to turn a place right side up. She placed everything on the kitchen floor, and then decided to see what else she was dealing with. As she walked up the stairs to his second story she felt a whole change in the atmosphere; maybe it was just the fact it didn't smell like spoiled eggs for once.

The entire second story of his house was spotless; almost as if he hadn't been up here since the day he got hurt. The thought alone broke Haley's heart, she couldn't imagine how hard it could be for someone to not be able to spend their nights in their bed, or even something little like walking up the steps. Things like that are why she chose this job in the first place, people deserved those simple pleasures, especially when they worked so hard for them.

Checking all the rooms she thanked God that the disaster, for the most part, seemed to be down stairs. She made her way back down to the first story and checked the clock. It was nine o'clock, and by the look of all the alcohol around this place, he wouldn't be up for a good couple hours. She walked around the rest of the first story, partly to scan the rest of the disaster, and partly to find the guest room Nate was in.

He was easier than expected to find seeing as there was only one closed door down stairs. Just to be sure, she turned the knob and slowly opened the door. She reminded herself to breathe when it didn't make a noise and peeked into the room. Nathan was lying on top of the covers, spread out across the bed. There was more beer bottles flung around the room and he even managed to have one clutched in his hand. His hair was long and greasy, and his facial hair was wirey and ragged. He was just as much of a mess as this house was. She quietly shut the door and made her way back to the living room, she had a lot to do before waking him up.

Haley cleaned the entire house until it was spotless, even the upstairs was mopped and dusted and it only took her a little over two hours. The only room left was the room Nathan was in, and for obvious reasons she couldn't get to that right now. She gathered all of her cleaning supplies and put them back in car, grabbing a bucket while she was there. She headed right towards the kitchen and cranked the cold water on high. She waited for a moment, letting it get as cold as it could, and then put the bucket under the flow, letting it fill.

She didn't bother with trying to be quiet this time as she flung the door open and it bounced off the door stopper, the sound of springs bouncing all the walls of the room. He didn't move a muscle. She shook her head and walked over to him. "Nathan?" She asked.

Nothing.

"Nathan!"

Nothing.

She sighed and dumped the bucket on his head, which caused him to shoot up immediately. "What the fuck!?" He yelled, looking down at his drenched self.

"Hi." Haley said with a smile, dropping the bucket to her side.

Nathan's head snapped to the female voice, he expected it to be Lucas or Clay. When he saw the blonde beauty standing on the side of his bed with a bucket in her hand and smile on her face his eyes got wide with anger. "Who the fuck are you?!"

Her smile and the confidence behind it never faded although his tone was dark and full of hate, and she stuck her hand out to him. "My name's Haley James, I'm Clay's sister. I'm a doctor and he asked me to help you rehab."

His glare only got stronger as her words came out and if looks could kill, she might have dropped dead. He scoffed at her hand and looked up to her. "I'm not a drug addict."

She smiled at him. "Good, because I don't really know much about that kind of rehab."

He looked her up and down. "You know I can't walk right? I don't care what you think you can do. My game's done; you're wasting your time."

She looked him up and down as well. "Is that what you think of yourself? That you're a waste of time?"

He shook his head. "Just a waste of your time."

She crossed one arm over her chest and use her other hand to tap her chin. "Right. Well, how about this…" She sighed when he continued to look away from her and poked his shoulder. He turned to look at her with that familiar glare. "Listen to me when I talk to you." He scoffed but didn't look away from her. "How about you get your sorry ass up and take a shower or a bath or whatever works for you, just demolish the smell." She looked up and down at the raggedy shirt and sweatpants he was wearing. "I'll get you some real clothes and leave them on the bed." She turned to walk out the door and spun back to him when she opened it. "And I'll decide what's best for my time from now on, got it?" She smiled and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Nathan blinked a few times at the closed door and then reached in his pocket, pulling out his phone. He quickly dialed the familiar number and by how quickly he answered, Nathan figured he was expecting the call.

"Lucas, why in the hell is there a hot chick walking around my house bossing me around!?"

Well, my roommate's made me watch Just Wright last night for the first time and this has been churning in my brain ever since, so I wrote it down. This won't be based off of the movie, it just gave me an idea. Hope you liked it, you know what to do. (: