A/N: First time OTH/Naley writer. Be kind. Reviews are highly appreciated and encouraged if you want me to write more One Tree Hill in the future.
I wanna hide the truth
I wanna shelter you
But with the beast inside
There's nowhere we can hide
When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
Don't get too close
It's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
"Demons" - Imagine Dragons
Where My Demons Hide
Everything was still.
It didn't matter that officers were shouting, and sirens were blaring, and people were sobbing. Everything had been switched to mute, and the silence that settled in the pit of his stomach was more out of numbness than anything else. It was as though the shock squeezing its bony grasp round his heart had turned off every other one of his senses.
He couldn't process it. He simply couldn't. The image of Keith and Jimmy lying broken on the floor of the hallway was burned into his brain for the rest of eternity, and the severity of it was too overwhelming to comprehend. He wished he hadn't been the first one out of the tutor center. If he had just waited for the rescue team…if he hadn't tried to be a hero, going to check that the coast was clear…
The information sat dormant in his brain, waiting to be soaked in and comprehended. But every single shield that he had ever built to deflect weakness and vulnerability remained vigil. A part of him refused to let the news bleed in. Because accepting it meant giving into a crushing, suffocating grief that he wasn't sure he would ever emerge from.
He had felt it when Haley left. A darkness evolving in his soul, slowly but surely swallowing what little hope remained in his weary heart. It was the realization of a loss that he could not mitigate. A circumstance beyond his control. And if there was anything Nathan Scott had inherited from his asshole father, it was the painful dislike for uncertainty. The fear of the inability to take matters into his own hands. Feeling like the world was spinning out of control and that he was helpless to stop it or slow the ride down.
It weighed down on his chest like an anvil, pressing his insides into indiscernible putty. He wouldn't have even believed he was capable of standing if not for the fact that his feet remained anchored to the ground, legs locked into place like steel beams.
He could see the chaos unfolding in front of him as the remainder of the students were evacuated from the school. But it played like a silent movie that he had seen a million times: because as much as the fact of it scared him, he could not match those terrified faces to an emotion of his own to save his life. There was a veil between himself and the world around him, closing him off from the horrors that swallowed the courtyard whole. He both appreciated and abhorred the sense of disconnect. He yearned to cling to his humanity, but at the same time, understood that letting all of it in had the potential to crush him into a useless blob of unadulterated sorrow.
So instead he focused on the faces nearest and dearest to his heart so as not to overwhelm himself with emotion. Haley. Lucas. The people who needed him to stay strong.
All that he was aware of was his wife being questioned by a cop just across the way, tears staining her porcelain skin as she fought to keep the grief at arm's length, and his brother jogging worriedly in his direction. Judging by the expression on his face – that stupid, selfless wince that decorated his features when a loved one was in need – he had not yet heard.
"Nate!" he cried as he came up beside him, grabbing his hand in a brief shake and reeling him in for a hug. He pulled back almost instantaneously. "What happened? Are you okay? Where's Haley?"
"Talking to the police," Nathan replied, and his voice felt hollow and sore in his own throat. "Luke, listen – "
"Oh, good. I'm glad she's okay. Peyton is on her way to the hospital – she's in pretty bad shape. Once I round up Keith and my mom, Brooke and I are gonna head down there to make sure she's okay. She lost a lot of blood, but – "
"Lucas," Nathan choked, feeling his esophagus tightening around his brother's name. "Something – something happened."
The pregnant pause settled between them like an ocean, vast and stoic. There was a thin sheen of moisture gathering across the surface of Lucas's eyes as he slowly did the math. Nathan knew he was taking silent inventory of the people around him, his gaze roving the extensive crowd populating the courtyard.
Nathan followed his brother's train of view, heart somersaulting into the pit of his stomach as he found Karen in the center of the hustle and bustle. An officer was speaking with her, a somber expression on his face, and he felt an instant pang of guilt. Part of him felt that he should have been the one to tell her. That he owed it to her as Keith's nephew and an extended part of her family. She shouldn't be hearing it from a stranger –
And then the most hauntingly painful sound he had ever heard suddenly punctuated the air around him, and Karen was choking on anguished sobs. She shot one hand out to steady herself against the side of the news van, her legs wobbling precariously as all resolve threatened to give out from beneath her.
The image was just as traumatizing as the visual of his lifeless uncle on the floor of the school, if not more so.
Nathan didn't know Karen very well, but he did know that she was the strongest person he had ever met. Her grace and courage was inspiring to those around her, and she had an air of unconditional love that was unprecedented in Nathan's own home growing up. And to see all of it fragment simultaneously, like a glass figurine shattering into a thousand pieces against the pavement below their feet…
"Luke – " he eked out, his voice cracking.
Lucas turned his gaze back to him, and though it was only for a moment, a million unspoken things were said all at once. Nathan could see that Lucas knew what was about to happen. That he understood the only thing that could completely incapacitate his mother in that way. There was a frightened look buried deep in his eyes, and it was likened to that of a toddler who was encountering his very worst nightmare. Like a soldier about to join the barricade of the front lines. A brittle spirit being utterly demolished in the blink of an eye.
And suddenly, Nathan's big brother was reduced to a fragile child processing the worst possible news he could ever receive. News that had the potential to shake the very foundation upon which he had built everything he had ever known.
News that one of his parents would cease to walk this world. Cease to always be there to chase away the demons with the warmth of a smile. Cease to exist.
It was an expression that Nathan had never seen in Lucas before. And it terrified him to the very center of his soul.
He reached out to him. But Lucas offered a single hand, raised in a halting manner, as he blinked away the tears forming at the bases of his eyelids.
"Don't," he uttered, his eyes trained downcast to avoid Nathan's gaze. And with that, he began the hastened but arduous jog in his mother's direction. The energy that the journey expended seemed to take every last ounce of his strength, and Nathan was reminded of an old wizened man whose experiences had exhausted him over time.
Lucas was too young to look so tired.
Nathan felt as though his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. His ribcage ached from the impact, and his frame felt heavy. He wished there was more that he could say – more that he could do.
Her hand was warm and comforting when it slipped into his, her tiny body leaning into him as if to help hold him up.
"It's okay," she whispered quietly, as though she had been present for the entire exchange. She was in tune with him that way. And with Lucas. She understood their emotions on a higher level than anybody else possibly could.
He couldn't bring himself to watch once Lucas reached his mother's side. Anything that transpired after that would be far too painful to witness. Instead he turned his face and buried his nose in Haley's hair, holding back a sob of his own.
It was humbling, really, on some level. That even though Keith was not biologically Lucas's father, for all intents and purposes he came far closer than Dan ever had. Keith may not have been a father. But he was a dad.
Nathan had never really had a dad, despite Dan always being around. Because a dad was different than a father, after all. A dad was there to hold you when you fell off your bike and scraped your knee, not yelling at you to get up and deal with the pain. A dad was supposed to reassure you that you tried your best, even when you did not win – not ground you for coming in second.
Keith Scott was a dad to Lucas. And to some extent, to Nathan himself.
And oddly enough, he was suddenly aware of a self-evident truth.
Dan's passing would never hurt this badly.
He could not bring himself to fall asleep that night. The events of the day continued to play like a broken record in his brain, and nothing he did could erase the images of the dead bodies that persisted behind his eyelids.
Instead he leaned over to plant a kiss on his wife's temple, quietly making his way outside.
The hoop in the driveway had been there for as long as he could remember. It held both good memories and bad. Recollections of pride and of embarrassment. He remembered Dan locking him out of the house until he could achieve a certain number of free throws in a row, not even allowing him to break for dinner. The man had been a tyrant, most certainly.
His callousness made him a good coach…at the expense of his reputation as a dad.
Nevertheless, basketball had always soothed Nathan and helped him escape from the barrage of thoughts whirling around in his brain. The game calmed the storm for a momentary blip in time, if nothing else. And tonight he both welcomed and yearned for the quiet that accompanied taking out his frustrations on the court.
Nathan dropped the ball from his palm, allowing it to bounce against the pavement with a resounding thud. It came back up to meet his fingertips, and he pressed it back downward, beginning his journey to the hoop. He caught the ball in both hands, sprang off the ground, and, in one swift movement, pushed the ball through the ring and held on long enough to catch his breath. Dunking always gave him a rush. And he needed that brief pause to let it sink in.
He caught up with the ball once more, dribbling it between his legs in an expert figure-eight maneuver. But that wasn't a move he learned from Dan. The basketball veteran had no time to waste with useless showboating. The only showboating worth doing, in his eyes, was scoring points. Anything he had ever taught Nathan was directly related to winning the game. And any enjoyment in between was by and large too time consuming to be bothered with.
No. This move was something that Uncle Keith had taught him when he was a young boy. Dan had always talked down about Keith's abilities on the court, but one thing was for sure – Keith knew how to have fun with the game, even if it meant losing at the end of the day.
And if he had learned all of that from Keith, he could not possibly begin to imagine what Keith had taught Lucas. He wondered if Lucas was at the River Court doing the exact same thing, in this exact same moment. Part of him wanted to believe that he was. But the other part knew that Lucas was probably preoccupied with comforting his mother, putting his own grief on hold to be strong for her.
The pain caught Nathan by surprise and he felt the beginnings of tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He ignored the burning sensation and once again bee-lined for the goal. Another spring and up he flew, cracking the ball through the hoop. He landed hard on his feet, not allowing himself his usual recovery time, and ignored the jolting pain that erupted in his ankles. Instead he fell into a rapid sprint back and forth across the court, dribbling the ball in front of him all the while. He concentrated on his breathing and on his pace, and fought to keep all other thoughts at bay. He would confront them tomorrow. He had had enough sorrow to deal with for one day.
"Nathan?"
The sound of her voice launched him from his reverie, and he came to an almost immediate standstill, as if caught doing something he was not supposed to. She was poised in the doorway, arms encircling her waist as if this were the only thing holding her together. Phantom tearstains traced paths along the lengths of her cheekbones, and her bottom lip quivered slightly as he met her gaze.
"I had a dream about – about – " She inhaled sharply. "And then I woke up, and you weren't there…"
He had frightened her. A sudden pang of guilt pierced his heart, and he realized that the initial shock of waking up alone would have probably startled him the very same way. After everything that had happened today, and the thought that something could have happened to Haley…
He dropped the ball at his feet and took a few long strides in her direction, pulling her protectively against his chest. He held her tight, the tears beginning to build in his eyes once more as he realized just how much he needed her in his arms at that exact moment. His fingers tangled themselves in her long hair as he took a deep breath to memorize her scent. Nothing terrified him more than the prospect of never being able to do this again.
"I'm so sorry, baby," he murmured quietly, pulling her even closer when she emitted a small sniffle against his bare skin. "I just wanted to clear my head…I wasn't thinking…"
"Come back to bed," she commanded softly. "Please. I don't want to be alone."
It was not in Haley's nature to ask for much. She was strong and independent, and did not usually need his protection. But the meekness in her voice suggested that today was an exception, and he understood instantly.
He followed her back to his room, crawling into bed beside her and wrapping her in his embrace. She laid her head against his chest, one arm snaked around his hips to close any remaining gap between them. He nestled his nose into the roots of her hair, returning to the task of committing her scent to memory. It was somehow more comforting than being outside on the court, and he found himself wondering why he had ever left her side in the first place.
"I don't want to be without you, ever again," she murmured against his pectoral, and he could feel the warmth of her tears pooling on his skin. "Seeing Karen just fall apart like that…"
She trailed off, and he was relieved that she did. The image of losing the love of his life the way that Karen had today was enough to debilitate him entirely. He tried to force away the image of what would have happened had he been in Karen's place.
"I will never, ever leave you," he vowed determinedly, pressing his lips against her forehead in firm resolve.
She craned her neck to look up at him, a sad smile donning her features. "You can't promise something like that, Nathan. Especially after what happened today. The future isn't in stone – it's fickle, and fragile, and we can't possibly know – "
He cut her off, his mouth crashing onto hers. Though he knew her words made sense and carried a logic he was currently lacking, he could not bear to hear them right now. He needed her, and only her. He needed to feel her presence, and the way that she so wholly consumed him in a way that nobody else and nothing else ever had. Her heart was so overwhelming that he found himself drowning in it, enraptured by everything she had ever given to him.
She kissed back with equal fervor, and he knew that she needed the very same thing that he did. The sensation of now, and the appreciation of the mortality of the moment. Everything was so fleeting, it seemed foolish to taken a single second for granted.
He slid his hand up her back, pulling her frame as close to his as he possibly could. She gasped quietly into his mouth at the contact, her fingertips dancing across his chest in a delicate foray of desperation.
"I love you," he breathed against her lips, fighting to catch his breath. "I love you so much, Haley James Scott."
"I love you, Nathan Scott," she replied tearfully, tugging gently at his bottom lip with her teeth. He could already feel the temperature of his body rising as a thin sheen of perspiration began to develop on his forehead. He pressed a kiss against her temple, her cheeks, her nose, her chin, anywhere that he could access. Haley was the sort of girl who deserved to be kissed on every inch of her skin.
Longing, passionate kisses soon turned to gentle, weary ones. He smoothed her hair behind her ear as his lips grazed the tip of her nose once more, his eyes boring into hers. He could get lost in her gaze so easily, the warmth that resided there the safest haven he had ever known.
She pulled back to stifle a quiet sob, one hand flying to her mouth as if she were ashamed of its intrusion. Nathan cradled her head in the crook of his neck, planting a protective kiss against her forehead. He hoped she knew just how many promises he meant to uphold in that single kiss. The promise to take care of her. The promise to get her through times of anguish and grief, and to trust her with his own. The promise to lean on one another when the world turned its back on them, holding each other up in the absence of all other stability.
Because even though there was more darkness and desolation to be faced in the journey ahead, they had tonight. And tonight, in the warmth of their bed, they were closed off from the world for a brief moment. It was a moment to breathe. To recover. To share the strength that they had bound to one another.
Tonight was about being thankful for what they had. That even despite all of the loss they had experienced, they still had each other. That no matter what hardships they faced, their combined resolve could conquer anything. The reminder that Nathan had Haley, and Haley had Nathan, and that their sheer force of will to protect one another could create a shield that even the darkest beast could not shatter.
Tonight, they could seek refuge in one another.
And tomorrow was another day.
END