Hey people! So this is my first story on FF...and I would LOVE some feedback if you wouldn't mind. Warning: The prologue is extremely depressing, I know. The whole story will NOT be that way, don't worry. Sorry if the medical stuff doesn't make sense, I didn't do any research or anything, but I tried to make it sound like I know what I'm talking about. So...read it now?

Disclaimer: Please. Like I would be sitting around writing stupid little stories if I could think up something awesome enough to be on Disney Channel.

Saturday June 11, 2009, Mercy Hospital, Wyckoff, New Jersey, 4:51 p.m.

Loud, healthy cries reached the hallway. For the first time in hours, Nick Lucas raised his head, revealing his tear-streaked face to the hallway, which was deserted except for him.

He took a few seconds to register what he was hearing. A newborn baby crying…a healthy baby crying…

His baby crying.

His little girl.

For three seconds the relief rushed over him, and he was numb. His baby girl was healthy, alive, and well. He was a father.

Then he remembered about the baby's mother.

The door opened, and a somewhat-smiling nurse poked her head out. "Mr. Lucas?" she said gently. He looked up at her, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were still falling.

"Congratulations, a healthy baby girl."

Nick already knew that, of course, but hearing it said out loud was…indescribable. He had a baby. A daughter. And despite what had happened earlier that day, she was healthy. And he was a dad.

At seventeen.

He smiled for a second, but then it vanished.

"What about Miley?" he asked, struggling to raise his voice above a whisper.

The nurse's smile wavered slightly, just enough for him to notice.

"She…should be fine in time. Miley lost a lot of blood, and she has some pretty severe head injuries. She's in a coma."

Nick blinked back more tears. "Will she be alright?" he whispered.

The nurse gave a sad smile. "Probably. The thing is…a coma is unpredictable. She could wake up tomorrow, or in weeks, months…years…" She trailed off, but Nick knew what she was thinking.

Or never.

The nurse patted his arm. "She's looking great, though. There's a very good chance that she'll get to see her little girl grow up."

Nick managed a soft smile at the words 'her little girl'. He loved the thought of a mini-Miley running around, a little ball of energy, just like her mother.

He wiped away the last of his tears, swallowing hard.

"Mr. Lucas?"

He looked up at the kind young nurse again.

"Would you like to hold your daughter?"

She saw the pure happiness flash through his eyes. Only for a second, but it was there.

He nodded.

The nurse smiled and walked back into the room, which was now quiet as the baby had calmed down.

Moments later she returned, holding a little pink bundle in her arms. She smiled at Nick as he stood up quickly, his eyes locked on the pink blanket.

She handed the bundle to him carefully, and stepped back.

The tiny creature in Nick's arms took his breath away. Her shocked expression was almost funny as she stared up at him with bright blue eyes – the eyes he had fallen in love with. Her tiny button nose resembled his own. Her lips had the same lovely shape as Miley's and Nick hoped that she had her smile as well. Little brown curls, very similar to his own, framed her pink face.

She was so beautiful.

He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He knew this little girl would change the world someday.

"Hello, Peyton. Welcome to the world."

The name they had picked rolled off his tongue so naturally – he imagined saying it every day for the rest of his life. He remembered the many disputes they had over the baby's name; how Miley had wanted Ariel and he thought it was too Disney, and he had wanted Eva and Miley thought it was too exotic. How he had begged and begged to name the baby Destiny Hope after Miley's birth name that he thought was so beautiful, and how hard it had been to convince her to use it just for the baby's middle name.

He smiled at the tiny baby in his arms. Peyton Destiny Hope Lucas. He couldn't wait to tell her the story of her name some day.

The baby cooed up at him, as if she was answering him. He gently lifted the baby up to his face and kissed her head lightly.

"I love you so much," he whispered to her. "More than you'll ever know."

He cradled the baby carefully, gazing down at her perfect face, and she stared back as if she was studying him as well. She seemed to fit perfectly in his arms and he knew, almost instinctively, how to hold her. He found this strange, as the last time he had held a newborn baby was when his little brother was born nine years ago. But he didn't question it. His father had told him that there were some things he would just naturally know how to do when he became a dad himself.

He still couldn't quite comprehend that it had happened so soon.

Still cradling the little miracle to his chest, he turned and faced the room that his girlfriend was in. He wanted to see her so very badly, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he could handle it. It pained him to think about his Miley lying in a hospital bed, helpless. He didn't want to see her that way. He didn't want to see the bruises, the bandages, the scars. The tubes and wires attached to her, keeping her fragile body alive.

No, he couldn't see her like that. Not yet. He thought of the Miley he knew – fearless, bright, witty, and smiley. Always, always smiling. Clinging with all his might to that beautiful smile, he held Peyton tight to his body and kissed her fragile cheeks, and prayed that her mother would soon be able to do the same.

Tuesday June 14, 2009, Mercy Hospital, Wyckoff, New Jersey, 8:32 a.m.

It was all that boy's fault.

They had been thirteen when it started. Billy Ray had liked him at the beginning. It had been innocent, just a cute little middle school relationship. He remembered being happy that his little girl had chosen such a good boy for her first boyfriend. He had values, he got good grades, and he seemed to be going places. For a while, he had seemed good for her.

And the two grew up, and changed along the way, as teenagers tend to do. The years saw many hardships for them, and through it all he began to see a different side of the boy.

They were fifteen when that boy broke his daughter's heart. He didn't know the whole story: a party, another girl, a fight, and a lot of pain were the only things he had gathered through Miley's hysterics. But it was enough to make him resent the boy with all his heart. And yet she forgave him, and let him back in. Billy Ray never quite did.

He accepted the fact that she wanted to continue dating him...scolding her would have only made her more determined, and he told himself that it was only a high school relationship. It would be over soon enough, and until then, he could just ignore the boy.

They were sixteen when he came home from work and found her in tears on the bathroom floor, holding a positive pregnancy test. And the very first words out of her mouth when she saw his expression were, "Daddy, please don't hurt Nick."

He couldn't say that he liked the boy who had knocked his teenage daughter up. He had disliked him for quite some time now. While something inside him respected the way the boy handled it all, the stronger part of him hated the boy – and the baby – and the hatred grew every day.

They were seventeen when they went out for ice cream – a pregnancy craving, no doubt, as Miley had chosen one of the strangest flavors ever heard of. It was on the way home that it happened. The boy was driving, and they were listening to the radio. Her favorite song came on and she started to dance and sing along. And he took his eyes off the road to look at her, and they shared a laugh. Only for a few seconds. Just long enough for the light up ahead to turn red.

The boy had called him from the hospital, so hysterical he could barely speak. Something wrong with Miley and the baby. Car accident. He rushed over and the boy explained everything. He was disgusted that Nick could be so irresponsible, to take his eyes off the road for even a second with his daughter in the car. He knew that his sweet Miley would probably blame herself. She would say it was her fault, for distracting him, and he would tell her she was wrong and blame himself, and they would eventually agree that no one was at fault. But Billy Ray knew that was wrong.

And as he stood in front of the distraught teenage boy who claimed to love his daughter and whom his daughter claimed to love, his hatred for said boy became a strong, undeniable loathing that made it difficult to even be near him.

It was all Nick's fault. Him and that fucking baby of his. If his daughter hadn't been pregnant in the first place, she wouldn't have gone out for ice cream. And he wouldn't be sitting in the waiting room of a hospital, knowing that his daughter could be dying and yet that damn boy and his damn baby had gotten away without a scratch.

"Mr. Stewart?"

Billy Ray Stewart jumped to his feet and looked intently at the young nurse who had walked up to him. She was smiling, which theoretically was a good sign, but he had learned in his lifetime not to completely trust those sympathetic nurses.

"How is she?"

"She's doing very well. She's awake."

Those two words were accompanied by such a wave of relief that he had to sit back down. A smile graced his seemingly-friendly features and he leaned back in the chair, bringing his hands to his face as tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

"Can I see her?"

Something in the nurse's eyes changed – something he recognized. In an instant he was back on his feet, alert.

"Yes, of course. But...she won't remember you."

The relief was nearly gone.

"See, her head injuries caused her to lose her memory. A simple case of amnesia, we get it all the time. The thing is...we aren't sure how serious her case is. It might last only a few days..."

There it was, that sympathetic look.

"Or it might be permanent."

He tried to speak to her, but he couldn't find words. His baby girl didn't know who he was. She didn't remember him – she didn't remember anything – and she might not ever remember him again.

And it was all that damn boy's fault.

Tuesday June 14, 2009, Mercy Hospital, Wyckoff, New Jersey, 12:17 p.m.

"Come over here, boy."

Nick looked up. He gave a quick half-nod and turned back to his newborn daughter, cooing at her as he settled her back into her little bassinet. It made Billy Ray sick the way he fawned over her, as if he didn't care at all that Miley was still in such bad condition.

If he had looked just a bit deeper, he would have seen the torturous guilt and pain in Nick's eyes. But he never did.

Nick crossed the room and stood directly in front of Billy Ray. Their eyes locked for a brief moment and Nick was so startled by the hatred he saw that he looked away. Clearing his throat, he looked at his shoes and forced himself to speak.

"Yes, sir?"

Billy Ray scoffed. Nick had called him sir ever since he was thirteen. At first he had considered it respectful and a bit amusing, but now he wondered if he was only trying to kiss up and get back on his good side. He could see right through the boy. As far as he bothered to look, at least.

"Listen, boy. You know as well as I do that this was all your fault. I don't want you anywhere near my daughter ever again."

Nick was so shocked that he whipped his head back up and looked into the man's eyes again. "W-what? Sir, y-y-you can't do this!"

Tears spilled down his cheeks slowly, as the emotions in the older man's eyes told him that this was serious. "I'm so sorry for what happened with Miley," he continued desperately, "You know I am...Miley's my life; I love her and Peyton more than anything."

Nick fearfully took a step backwards as he noticed Billy Ray's eyes narrow at the mention of the baby.

"I don't care," was all the man spat. "Listen to me. Miley will wake up tomorrow one of two ways. Either she will remember everything and be asking for you, or she won't remember anything at all and never will again."

He held the boy's gaze as he continued. It was fear that held Nick's eyes there...fear and something else, something like pain, but Billy Ray wouldn't allow himself to see that far. Because if he did, he might begin to question his decision.

"If she remembers, I will tell her that you left her. That you were tired of her, tired of all this drama she had caused. I'll tell her that I have no idea where you went but that you didn't want her to contact you. I'll tell her you hate her..."

Nick's silent tears had transformed into hysterical sobs.

"And I'll tell her that the baby is dead. And she will continue her life as though none of this ever happened, and she will be perfectly happy that way."

Billy Ray almost smirked at the pain in the boy's face. He deserved it after all the pain he had caused Miley.

"If she doesn't remember, she will not know about any of this. I will tell her that we were on our way home from a business trip of mine and that she doesn't know anyone here. We will go back to our old house in Tennessee and I will tell her all about her life there and how she is a good girl, with strong values. I will tell her she's a virgin. She will know nothing of you or that little monster, and she will be perfectly happy that way."

Nick was looking more and more distressed by the second. He was mumbling something under Billy Ray's words – something along the lines of "You can't do this" over and over, through his choked sobs. Billy Ray gave him a look that could only be described as hatred and disgust.

"And whether she remembers or doesn't remember, you will no longer be a part of her life. You are to take that child of yours and get as far away from Miley as possible. You will not be here when she wakes up." The boy's sobbing was annoying him. He took a step closer and raised his voice. "Quiet."

The boy got quiet, presumably out of shock, and Billy Ray continued. "You will not be here when she wakes up, and you will never come back. She won't know about you or that baby of yours. You will never, ever try to contact Miley or any of her old friends."

He reached out and grabbed the boy's chin, yanking his face up and forcing his pained eyes to stare right into his own.

"And if you do, you will be sacrificing your daughter's life."

He couldn't describe the look on Nick's face as he shot his hand up to his mouth, holding back a sob or vomit, or maybe both. He was crying so hard that Billy Ray wondered if he could even see him. And then, very suddenly, the boy found his voice.

"How could you do that?" He didn't sound very threatening through all of his tears, but his voice was fierce none the less, and through the hurt and fear in his eyes there was a fire that Billy Ray couldn't quite name. "How could you even think of killing your own granddaughter? How could you hide your daughter from the love of her life and her child?"

The boy stepped closer to him. "What kind of a sick monster are you?"

Billy Ray tilted his head to the side, clicking his tongue lightly as Nick fumed in front of him. "Well, that doesn't much matter to you, does it?" he finally said, and the boy gaped. "What matters to you is your daughter's well being. Are you going to listen to me and keep her safe, or give her life away for your own selfish reasons?"

Nick's heart broke for about the hundredth time in an hour as he walked over to his newborn daughter and looked down at her sleeping face. "F-fine," he finally muttered. Miley would want him to keep their angel safe. He couldn't imagine anything happening to her, especially something he could have prevented. To lose Miley would be the most horrible pain he had ever experienced...but to lose them both...the only relief he could think of would be suicide.

He forced himself to look up. "This time tomorrow Peyton and I will be on our way to California. You'll never hear from us again. Just please, please don't hurt her."

Billy Ray nodded in an official way, as if ending the conversation. Nick searched his blue-grey eyes one more time, foolishly hoping to catch a glimpse of the kind man he had once known. The one who threw popcorn into the air for Nick to catch in his mouth and was always willing to arm wrestle and winked when he told him not to keep Miley out too late. He wondered for a fleeting second where that man had gone.

Then he shook his head, turned, and walked slowly from the room with his head down.

Billy Ray quietly stood outside the door of Miley's room, watching as Nick whispered to her and kissed her hand over and over, saying goodbye to her. He couldn't hear what he was saying, but he almost felt as if he could somehow feel the emotion. Tears dripped onto the bed from the boy's eyes and when Billy Ray looked at them closely, he found that he could still see the pain, fear, and anger that he had seen before. But he also saw something else – a look of love so powerful that it nearly took his breath away.

For the briefest second, he wondered if maybe he was doing the wrong thing. Then he sighed, turned, and walked away from the boy's haunting brown eyes, knowing he would never see them again.

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