Thank you so much for the reviews. I wasn't sure whether anyone would really be interested in this, but I hope there are at least a few people enjoying it. As you can see, I tend to write long chapters so you'll probably notice about two or three weeks between updates. I have a rough draft of the entire story done, but I find myself making a lot of adjustments as I prepare each chapter. As I mentioned before, this fic will include time-jumps and this is the first one. This chapter was a bit of a challenge for me since I'm looking forward to the chapters after this one, but I hope you enjoy it just the same.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to One Tree Hill--not the characters, not the stories, not the music, and not the names.

The World You Desire Can Be Won

The Loss

Five Years Later

"Ladies and Gentleman, we've been cleared for take-off. Once we've reached our cruising altitude, our flight team will be around to serve complimentary snacks and beverages. Please keep your seatbelts fastened for as long as the 'Fasten Seatbelts' sign is on, and please be cautioned that it is against federal regulation for a line to be formed at the lavatory. On behalf of Coastal Airlines, we hope you enjoy your flight."

Nathan Scott squirms against the leather of his seat and kicks his legs out in front of him, groaning as he upsets his bulkily wrapped knee. He'd made quite a picture in the airport this morning. Dressed in warm-ups, his knee the size of a basketball--no pun intended--and wobbling around the terminal on his crutches, he'd barely been able to get himself onto the plane. And now that he's finally here, he doesn't even want to think about getting up again. Thank goodness for the extra leg-room of first class. He doesn't know what he'd do if he had to fold himself into one of the seats in coach.

"Sir? Is there anything I can get you before we depart?" A bright face appears in his line of sight and he fights the urge to grimace at the flight attendants cheery demeanor.

"Scotch on the rocks?" he grumbles dryly.

"I'm afraid we're not serving drinks just yet," the flight attendant chirps happily, "but I'll be sure to bring you one just as soon as we've reached our cruising altitude."

"Yeah, thanks," he mutters absently.

"And what brings you to North Carolina?" she questions in a perky tone, her eyes wide with interest as she leans against his seat. "Vacation?"

Great, he thinks. She obviously knows who he is. And she obviously doesn't follow the news.

"No," Nathan replies shortly. "A funeral."

The smile is almost immediately wiped from her face. "Oh. I...I'm so sorry, sir."

Nathan shakes his head dismissively before turning to fix his eyes on the view from the plane's small window. He hears soft footsteps fading away and doesn't dare turn his head until he knows he's alone at last. He wraps his hands around the ends of his armrests and grips tightly when he feels the plane power forward, the momentum pressing him into the leather of his seat. He hasn't visited Tree Hill by himself for nearly two years, but he supposes now is as bad a time as any.


Haley James tilts the paper cup until she's drained the last of the lukewarm contents into her waiting mouth. She knows better than to think that coffee will solve all of the numerous problems she's currently facing, but it sure does a damn good job of making her feel like she's in control. It's been her secret since her second year of college when she was the first-ever sophomore to be selected as a TA for Professor Gladden's freshman writing seminar. Her terrible nerves hadn't disappeared, but she'd at least felt that she looked the part of a university intellectual once she'd held the mug in her hand. A cup of coffee never fails to make her feel collected and in control--two things she desperately wishes to feel right this very moment.

After tossing the paper cup into the trash, she readjusts the leather strap of her bag, slings it back over her shoulder, and takes a deep breath as she begins sorting through the people waiting in the arrivals section of the airport. She scans the crowd for several moments, both anticipating and dreading the familiar faces she's expecting. While she loves that she has managed to keep in touch with her friends from high school over the past five years, she wishes desperately that they could all be getting together on better terms. She's been hanging on by a thread since she received the news and she's certain that the flood of memories she'll have upon seeing her friends will only make the harsh reality just that much more unbearable.

"Haley!"

With another quick scan of the crowd, she spots the somber faces of Jake and Peyton standing near a crowded newsstand. Rushing forward and dodging other travelers, she pulls each of them into a quick hug and offers a halfhearted smile. Taking a step back, she releases an exhausted sigh and feels her composure start to slip away. Biting into her lip, she tries her damnedest to pull herself together.

"It's good to see you guys," she remarks honestly, her voice shaking ever so slightly. And she's telling the truth. Despite their saddened expressions, Jake and Peyton look composed and comfortable with one another--ever the storybook couple. While Jake is still sporting his patented just-rolled-out-of-bed look, Peyton is looking surprisingly sleek and put-together in a silk blouse and trouser jeans. A far cry from the wild-haired girl who refused to change out of her torn jeans and band t-shirts.

"Just not under these circumstances. Yeah, I get it." Peyton responds. "How was your flight?"

Haley sighs as she looks down at her rumpled sweater and then attempts to smooth the wrinkles from her jeans. "Long," she remarks simply.

"You look good, Haley," Jake comments in a friendly tone.

"Are you kidding?" Haley groans. "I'm a disaster. I've been like a robot for the past two days. And I wasn't sure they'd let me on the plane considering the amount of baggage I'm carrying beneath my eyes." She pauses for just a second and sobers before she continues. "How's Brooke?"

Peyton glances up at Jake, her concern apparent in her eyes. Looking back at Haley, she nods pointedly toward a row of chairs lining the wall. Following Peyton's gaze, Haley's heart breaks even more at the sight of her devastated friend. She glances over at Jake and Peyton with a small smile of acknowledgment and then approaches Brooke's slouched form.

Haley pauses for just a moment as she takes in the sight of the incorrigibly sunny girl in a truly fractured state. Over the years, Brooke Davis has become a true friend. Though Haley's high school self would never in a million years have predicted it, helping to set up Brooke and Lucas had made a world of difference in each of their lives. Brooke provided the light to Luke's darkness. Lucas somehow managed to ease Brooke's flighty ways. She helped him to realize that life isn't necessarily a linear series of stops on a carefully planned itinerary while he managed to prove that a little bit of direction doesn't mean a total sacrifice of freedom. And somewhere along the line, Haley and Brooke had become friends and confidantes who could complain about Luke's boyish habits and cheer each other on in their respective pursuits.

Brooke looks up sharply as she hears the tapping of Haley's heels and her face immediately crumples upon seeing her friend. She pushes herself to her feet, staggering with the effort as though she's carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and then shrugs dejectedly at Haley's sympathetic expression.

"I don't understand," Brooke whispers, her throat obviously dry and cracked, probably from so many hours of sobbing her heart out.

"I know," Haley murmurs shakily. "I don't either.'

A split-second passes and then the two are locked in a tight embrace, both crying openly in the middle of the airport. Haley feels her own tears spilling down her face, and Brooke hangs onto fistfuls of Haley's sweater while sobbing wrenchingly on her slim shoulder.

"God, Haley, I don't even know what to do without him," Brooke whispers shakily. "I don't remember who I am without him." She sniffles and lets out a laugh, "Isn't that pathetic? I just...I thought he was always going to be there. I never thought I'd have to be without him. I never worried about being pathetic because I just figured he would always be with me."

Haley nods and brushes her own tears away with a clumsy hand. "We'll be okay," she announces with a false sense of certainty. "But we should get going."

Taking Brooke's hand, she gives it a squeeze and glances back at Jake and Peyton.

"We've got to do this," she says determinedly. "For Lucas."


"Here you go, sir."

Glancing up, Nathan nods tersely as the flight attendant lowers his tray table and sets a beverage on a cocktail napkin. Closing his eyes with a burdened sigh, he wonders if maybe his exhaustion will finally catch up with him. It's been three days since Lucas showed up on his doorstep, and it's been nearly as long since he's had even an hour of sleep. Glancing casually around the cabin, Nathan notes his fellow first-class passengers. There's the well-dressed elderly couple in one corner, a businessman tapping away on his laptop in another, a dozing woman who is using her Louis Vuitton bag as a pillow, and finally the heavy-set gentleman reading a newspaper just across the aisle.

Nathan's cursory glance freezes upon the headline that seems to be shouting through the bold, black font.

NBA STAR INVOLVED IN FATAL ACCIDENT

Car accident claims one life. Police say alcohol is involved. Doctors say Nathan Scott will recover.

Nathan takes a swig from his drink and shakes his head disbelievingly. The reminders are everywhere. Reminders that he survived. That he's going to be just fine. That he was the lucky one. And now the horrible night has been publicized for anyone's criticism or speculation.

Three days.

All it's taken is three days to completely ruin the normalcy and pseudo-happiness he'd managed to carve out for himself. Actually, he realizes, all it had really taken was about three seconds.

"So how's it going, man? Keeping busy?"

Lucas grins at Nathan and gives him a hearty smack on the shoulder. "Can't complain, little brother."

"Because you're wasted?" Nathan smirks.

"Hey, I am not wasted!" Lucas protests good-naturedly. "Just a little buzzed."

"Right," Nathan replies skeptically. "So does Brooke usually encourage you to re-enact that Top Gun bar scene? Or was that just for me? Cause your singing voice? Sucks, man."

"As a matter of fact, Brooke loves that movie. So I was just doing that in her honor," Lucas explains grandly. "And at least I wasn't surrounding myself with a harem of half-dressed groupies."

Nathan gives his brother a grin and shrugs, "Hey, it's a hazard of the job. Never go to bed with the same girl twice."

Lucas scowls, "You're disgusting."

"You're jealous."

"Nah," Lucas argues. "I'm sad for you."

"For me?" Nathan questions skeptically.

"Yeah," Lucas nods. "You're so pathetic, you don't even realize you want more."

"There are worse things than having some of the world's hottest women fighting over you," Nathan grins.

"There are better things," Lucas replies simply.

Nathan rolls his eyes, "Whatever. How's North Carolina?"

"The same," Lucas replies. "Although I haven't been there for a couple of weeks. I've been in California."

"Don't tell me you're going all surfer boy on me," Nathan groans.

"Nah, I was out visiting a friend."

"Anyone I know?"

"I don't think so," Lucas mutters vaguely in an effort to avoid the topic of Haley. "Anyway I figured it wouldn't hurt to make a pit stop in Phoenix."

"So really you just need a place to crash, right?" Nathan questions with a smirk.

"Pretty much," Lucas admits. "Besides, I want to see the kind of lifestyle a professional basketball player leads these days. What are the Suns paying you anyway? Too damn much, I know that for sure."

"Whatever, man." Nathan laughs. "You know you're--"

The high-pitched trill of horn causes them both to stop and look out the passenger side window where all they see are the fast-approaching headlights.

Bright lights. Noise. And then silence.

Nathan jerks forward suddenly, clammy and out of breath as he attempts to calm himself down.

"Are you okay, sir?"

He nods gruffly without meeting the concerned eyes of the flight attendant. He's spent the last 72 hours reliving the accident. He's seen the glare of the headlights and heard the blare of the horn more times than he can count. He's run the scenario through his head and changed every possible variable. What if they'd left the bar a little earlier? A little later? What if they hadn't been so engrossed in their conversation? What if they'd stopped to get something to eat like they'd discussed? But the one question that pounds through his head like a pulsing echo is the one that has kept him up for the past three nights.

What if he hadn't been driving?


Birds are chirping gaily from the limbs of the generous shade trees. A light gust of wind gently stirs the green tree branches and brushes soothingly across his skin. The grass is soft beneath the soles of his shoes and the ground sinks beneath the tips of his crutches as he moves slowly through the Tree Hill Cemetery. As he approaches the canopy that's been set up for the service, he glances around at what will become his brother's final resting place. They're standing on a slight hill just overlooking the many headstones below. A gnarled tree reaches for the sky, providing ample shade for the visitors just below. It's a spot meant for deep thought and serious reflection.

It's perfect for Luke.

As the service starts, Nathan opts to remain on the periphery of the group. As family, he knows he's allowed, even expected, to stand front and center among the people most touched by the loss of Lucas Scott. Still, something--maybe guilt or shame or even awkwardness--prevents him from making his presence truly known. Instead he watches the many people around him, these people who love Lucas Scott, and he wonders just how such a young person has managed to be so loved, admired, and respected. Then, looking forward, he listens to the words that are supposed to provide comfort--words about what's meant to be, about a better place, about what Lucas would want.

The sun's fierce gaze casts a muted reflection over the glossy surface of the polished casket.

It's one of those events in life that happens before you know what's going on. And it's over once you finally realize. By the time Nathan realizes there's been an accident, he's already groaning and making a futile attempt to claw his way out of the murkiness of unconsciousness.

"Lucas!" Nathan cries out, his voice hoarse from the effort. "Lucas! Can you hear me, man? Luke!"

Even as he yells, he can't quite find his bearings. He's trapped in the twisted mass of metal that was once his car, and he knows that Lucas is somewhere in the mangled mess as well. He's not sure which way is up or how the car is positioned or whether he can move his limbs. He hears sirens and panicked yells and the groan of metal as the car is broken down piece by piece in an effort to get him out. He hears the steady pulse of a helicopter arriving on the sign and then he hears his name being muttered by the rescue workers when they realize they're pulling Phoenix Suns hotshot Nathan Scott from the wreckage.

He doesn't hear his brother.

The gathered mourners form a dark shadow around the casket and the brightly hued clusters of flowers, and Nathan feels frozen as they begin to murmur, "Our father who art in Heaven..."

"Mr. Scott, you've been seriously injured. I need you to hold still!" the doctor insists as Nathan thrashes his large frame in protest.

"My brother!" he cries. "I need to know about my brother! Lucas Scott! What happened to Luke?!" His questions are delivered in rapid-fire succession as his tone grows increasingly hysterical. He feels a cold sting in one arm and immediately yanks from the pain. His sudden movement sends a metal tray crashing to the floor, the clatter ringing loudly in his ears, and then the room begins to grow dim. Blurred halos form around the overhead lights and the features of the many doctors and nurses blend together.

"Mr. Scott, we've given you something to help calm you down. Now just relax..."

He can't take his eyes off of Luke's mom. She's standing beside the grave, her posture rigid and unwavering. A crumpled tissue is poking out from either side of her clenching fist, and he can see the expression of utter disbelief on her face. She's no longer the smiling woman who had welcomed him into her home for the past two Thanksgivings and Christmases. She looks tense and anxious and lost. And Nathan understands.

After all, he's just lost the last of his family as well.

He can feel a dull ache radiating from...well, everywhere. There are hushed voices in the vicinity and an ever-present blip that just doesn't seem to stop. There's a moment of panic when he opens his eyes to see the generic tan of the hospital wall rather than his usual morning view of the pool just outside his bedroom window. A moment passes and then the memory of the previous night has him scrambling to get out of the bed.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" a female voice chides. "I don't think you're going anywhere, sweetheart."

Nathan turns to see a wholesome looking redhead, probably his mom's age, in printed scrubs. She smiles comfortingly before gesturing to his lower half. Glancing down, Nathan's eyes widen when he sees that his right leg has been thoroughly wrapped and elevated.

"It could have been a lot worse," the nurse informs him solemnly. "You sustained some major damage to your right knee. I'm your nurse Marcia," she explains. "I'll be in your hair for the next several hours."

Nathan pushes his concerns for himself out of his mind and looks imploringly at the woman. "My brother...he was in the accident with me."

The sunny smile fades from her face and she pales just the tiniest bit. Reaching over, she pats him supportively. "I should go get the doctor," she announces. "He can answer your questions."

He's still standing out of the way, almost out of sight, when he realizes that nearly everyone has started to head back to their cars. Moving forward, he drags his fingers slowly over the surface of the casket and murmurs under his breath, "I love you, man."

A single teardrop begins its descent and he hurries, lurching forward with his crutches, anxious to be in his car before his sobs can be heard. One quick glance back and now he can see the slender frames of three females near the gravesite, their hands entwined and their heads together. A brunette stands between two blondes--one on each side.

Brooke, he thinks. And the guilt washes over him yet again.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Scott. So terribly sorry."

"He's...he's gone?" Nathan chokes out from the confines of his bed.

"We did everything we could," the doctor responds in a defeated manner. "There was just too much damage."

"Your mother has been notified and she's on her way," the doctor continues. "My mother?" Nathan questions in confusion. He hasn't spoken to his parents in years. "Oh, you mean Karen."

The doctor looks flustered, "Well, I just assumed..." He clears his throat to fill the awkward silence. "Is there anyone we can contact for you, Mr. Scott? We couldn't seem to find information on your next of kin."

"No," Nathan answers. "There's nobody. Not anymore."

As Nathan rushes almost frantically back to his rental car, he spots Karen Roe's petite frame and he hurries after her.

"Ms. Roe!" he calls out.

She stops suddenly and turns, her shoulders squared and her chin lifted as if she's trying to convince those around her that she's doing just fine. But her expression softens when she sees Nathan approaching and he can see some of her bravado start to crumble.

He takes another step closer and begins to speak, "I'm just...I'm so..." And then he chokes on his own words, unable to form anything resembling a coherent bit of English. Before he knows it, he's shaking his head with tears streaming down his face as he struggles gallantly to take a breath.

"Oh, Nathan," she murmurs, her own tears surfacing at the look of devastation on his face. Hurrying forward, she gives his shoulders a tug and manages to wrap her arms around his tall frame. She rubs his back in a maternal gesture unlike anything Nathan has ever experienced with his own mother.

"I'm so glad he had you," Karen whispers tearfully. "I'm so glad you were able to be brothers for the past several years. It meant the world to Lucas. I hope you know that."

"He was my best friend," Nathan admits. "And I'm just so...I'm sorry."

Pulling back, Karen gives his shoulders a squeeze and musters a smile.

"How are you feeling, Nathan?" she questions, gesturing to his crutches.

"I'll be fine," he mutters disgustedly with a shake of his head. "I'll probably stick around here for awhile."

"Well, I want you to make sure to keep in touch," Karen urges kindly. "And come by the cafe while you're here. I want to make sure you're eating properly."

He nods, "I'll do that."

"You'll be okay, Nathan. I know it." She pats him gently on the arm. "I'll see you at the house in just a little bit, right?"

Nathan hesitates. He hadn't planned on going to the wake. The idea of mingling with so many others, of sharing lighthearted Lucas anecdotes, of eating reheated casseroles...none of it appeals to him. Especially when he knows that every person present will be looking at him and asking themselves the same questions he's been asking himself. Like why he's on crutches while Lucas is six feet under.

Still Karen's face is earnest, almost hopeful, and it seems as though her invitation is genuine.

"Sure," he agrees. "I'll be there."


"It was a beautiful service," Peyton remarks quietly to Jake, Haley, and Brooke as they stand in the kitchen next to a counter full of finger-foods, salads, and casseroles.

Everyone nods silently, each afraid to break the silence with a less than appropriate comment or outburst. Paper plates and plastic cutlery in hand, they each pick halfheartedly at the food on their plates, and they watch as others mill around Karen Roe's small house in an effort to pay their respects.

Haley watches scene, feeling both helpless and antsy. Although she knows that everyone's intentions are pure, there's something so false, so awkward about the situation. No one knows what to say, and yet everyone makes an effort to say something--anything--even if it's wrong. Frustrated, she sighs heavily when she sees yet another person approach Karen, no doubt reminding her of how wonderful her son was and parting with some useless phrase like, "He's in a better place now."

Finally, she's had enough.

Glancing around at her friends, she clears her throat and speaks up, "I'm going to go talk to Karen. I haven't had a chance to see her since I've been in town and I know she's trying hard to be strong, but I have a feeling that all of these people will be more than she can handle on her own. Plus, I want to let her know that I'm going to be sticking around for awhile." She sighs, "I could use the change of scenery."

Her friends nod in understanding as she makes her way over to Karen and then they promptly return to the awkward silence of earlier.

"Hey."

The three friends turn sharply at the simple greeting and their jaws drop in surprise.

"Nathan?" Peyton utters in shock.

"Nate!" Jake exclaims. "How's it going?"

Nathan shrugs, "I've been a lot better."

"It's good to see you, Nate," Brooke says softly. She gestures to his crutches, "How are you feeling?"

Nathan frowns, "Actually, I'm more concerned about how you're doing."

"Not too great," Brooke answers honestly, averting her eyes. She takes a deep breath, "But I'll be okay."

Jake glances out the window at the cars parked along the tree-lined streets of the neighborhood, "I can't believe this turnout."

"There are a lot of people, aren't there?" Brooke questions softly, her voice raspy.

Jake and Peyton both nod fervently and they each grip one of Brooke's hands even tighter.

"Everyone loved Lucas," Peyton murmurs.

"He was a great guy," Jake agrees. "And he loved you like crazy, Brooke."

Brooke offers a watery smile and sniffles slightly, "He kind of did, didn't he?"

"Are you kidding?" Peyton laughs. "He would have done anything for you! Remember when he dressed up like Romeo and tried to scale your dorm room wall?"

Jake lets out a sharp laugh, "And broke his wrist when he fell? Yeah, that was a manly move. He really was whipped."

"What about some of the things he's done for Haley?" Brooke asks laughingly. "You know, I was jealous of them when we first got together. I was convinced that there was something between them."

Peyton snorts with amusement.

"Yeah? What convinced you otherwise?" Nathan inquires curiously. He'd always secretly thought the same thing.

"Well, shortly after Lucas and I started dating, I managed to dress Haley up and convince her to go out with me. When we came down the stairs and Lucas saw her in the outfit I'd chosen, he started screeching and making clawing motions at his eyes. Something about not believing that Haley could have legs or boobs."

"And how'd Haley take that?" Peyton questions knowingly.

Brooke smirks, "She walked up to Lucas, smacked him upside his head, and told him to look the other way unless he wanted her foot up his ass. It was just such a...sisterly thing to do. I knew then we would be friends for life."

"That's our little Haley!" Peyton exclaims.

Nathan chuckles a bit uncomfortably and glances around. "Is she here?" he inquires. He hasn't seen his bookish former tutor for five years and he isn't quite sure now would be most opportune moment.

"Who? Haley?" Brooke asks. "Yeah, she's around here somewhere. I think she's busy with Karen."

"Oh my gosh!" Peyton exclaims suddenly. "Do you remember when Jake and I came down to visit you guys junior year of college?"

"The costume party!" Both girls squeal at once.

"Oh no," Jake mumbles under his breath.

Settling back against the kitchen counter, Nathan makes himself comfortable as Brooke and Peyton begin reminiscing about the good times they've shared with Lucas Scott.


"It's so good to see you, Haley," Karen remarks with a small smile. "You look wonderful. And I know you're doing great things. You should know...Lucas was so proud of you. And so am I."

Haley nods, her eyes flooding with tears as she leans forward to give the older woman a hug.

"I want you to know," Haley starts, "I'm taking some time off."

"Haley--" Karen starts to protest.

"I need to be here," Haley says firmly. "I want to be here. My professors have agreed to let me finish the semester from Tree Hill. Then I'll have until the fall before I have to return."

"I can't let you do that, Haley. You've got so much going on. Lucas told me how busy you've been."

Haley cringes at this and mentally catalogs all of the times she'd cut conversations short or delayed the returning of Luke's phone calls. Hell, even when he had been visiting just before his accident, she had left him to entertain himself during the day while she went to the library and met with her study groups.

Haley shakes her head, "You're not going to talk me out of it, Karen. I've already got someone to sublet my apartment and my parents know I'll be staying at the house while I'm here. I'm sure you could use some help at the cafe and, quite honestly, I think I could use a little bit of a break. My priorities have gotten a little skewed in the wake of my busy life. I've let some things go that I shouldn't have. And I've gotten so focused on..." she trails off and shakes her head. "Anyway, I think some quiet time in Tree Hill might be just the thing to get me thinking straight again."

"Well, I can't exactly pay the going rate for a soon-to-be lawyer..." Karen warns.

Haley smiles, "The going rate for a used-to-be waitress will be just fine. And this waitress is going to insist that you take some time off in the next couple of weeks. You need to give yourself a break."

Karen watches Haley thoughtfully before shrugging, "I should know better than to try and talk you out of something once you're set on it." She reaches over to pull the younger woman into a hug. "Besides," she continues, "it will be good to have you around for a little while."

Haley nods in satisfaction, "I'll start tomorrow."

Haley is taken a bit by surprise when Karen suddenly reaches over to grab each of her hands. She can feel the slight trembling of the older woman's hands and gives them a comforting squeeze. Looking up, she sees Karen standing with her eyes closed, her head tilted back slightly, as though she's detaching herself from the intensity of the current situation. Finally, her eyes open and she's pulling Haley into another hug.

"I love you, Haley James. You're a wonderful young woman."

Haley leans into their embrace and breathes in Karen's familiar maternal scent. Nodding, she blinks back her own tears and shakily replies, "I learned from the very best."


Another raucous roar of laughter erupts from the small group as they stand huddled in the kitchen.

"You should have seen his face!" Jake exclaims. "He was so ready to seduce Brooke...and then he finds Tim instead!"

"He never told me that!" Brooke exclaims.

"Well, it probably wasn't one of his finer moments," Jake rationalizes.

There's a slight break in the laughter and the storytelling, but they're each wearing smiles that feel almost foreign to them.

"See?" Brooke questions softly. "This is how it should be. Lucas would love this. I don't want to cry and feel sorry for myself anymore. I want to remember. And laugh at what a dork my boyfriend really was."

The small group laughs at Brooke's frankness, and Peyton lunges forward to give Brooke an impulsive hug.

"When do you go back, Brooke?" Jake questions.

"The day after tomorrow," Brooke answers. "How about you guys?"

"Tomorrow," Peyton replies. "Jake's got class and I've got to get back to the glamorous world of graphic design. Except, you know, I don't actually do much more than get coffee and make copies."

"What about you, Nate?" Jake wonders.

"Well, I don't exactly have to hurry back to work," Nathan gestures toward his leg.

"At least the season's over, right?" Jake points out reasonably.

Nathan nods, "Yeah. But I think I'm going to stick around here for awhile."

"Really?" Brooke remarks disbelievingly. "You?"

Nathan shrugs, "I could use a little bit of a change."

"You're not the only one," Peyton murmurs.

Exchanging a look with Peyton, Brooke raises an eyebrow. "Interesting," she comments neutrally. "Very interesting."


Anxiety.

It's a feeling he knows better than some people might suspect. Nathan feels a flutter of anxiety as he stands outside of the old brick building just a few days later. Taking a deep breath, he readjusts his crutches and stares for a moment at the familiar sign.

Karen's Cafe.

He's not quite sure where the anxiety is coming from. It's not like he's never been here before. Sure the place was pretty far off the beaten path when he was in high school, but over the past few years, he and Lucas have made themselves quite at home within these walls. Still, he's never been here without his brother and it feels as though he's lost his right to enter. It's almost as if Lucas was his key to this world--this world where people greet each other on the streets, where parents make sure their children get a hearty breakfast, where the quality of the dinner conversation is more important than the quality of the china. It's a world he might as well need a passport to enter.

But Karen had made him promise to keep in touch. It seems only right that he should pay a visit to the local establishment.

A bell chimes as he steps into the dim lighting of the bohemian cafe and he's immediately greeted by the melodiousness of silverware against plates, the sizzle of a grill, and the trickle of brewing coffee. He's slightly disappointed when he doesn't spot Karen, but his stomach rumbles in response to the scent of bacon, so he locates a small table towards the side of the building. He sighs as he lowers himself into the seat of the chair and then carefully rests his crutches against the wall.

As he attempts to get comfortable, his gaze is almost immediately drawn to the petite, fair-haired dynamo who is scurrying around the cafe in animated fashion as she smiles and chats quietly with patrons. She seems familiar, but he can't quite put his finger on who she might be. She's clearly beloved by the regular customers of the establishment and Nathan can't help but notice the golden aura about her. There's something very natural about her, very genuine. Her wavy blonde hair is loosely plaited and trailing over one shoulder as she leans over to wipe a table. She glances up and offers a wave and a bright smile when the bell jingles from over the door, but he also sees something else. His gaze lingers and he sees the exhaustion in her features. There's a slight drag in her step.

He doesn't know who she is, but he does know one thing. She's had a rough go of things lately.


The bell chimes as yet another customer enters the cafe and Haley fights the urge to scream. It's been years since she last worked as a waitress and she'd forgotten how hard the work could be. The flow of patrons has been non-stop since she opened this morning and she doubts the surge of business will be dying down anytime soon. Despite the hectic nature of the job, it feels good to be doing something so familiar. It's nice to engage in tasks that she knows by heart, and it's comforting to work with people she's known for so many years. Sure, her feet will throb and her shoulders will ache by the end of her shift, but giving Karen a chance to get away is well worth the trouble. The fact that Haley is getting the chance to put some things into perspective doesn't hurt either.

Glancing towards the newest addition to the breakfast crowd, she nearly gasps when she sees the tall, lean figure of a man maneuvering awkwardly with a pair of crutches. He has his back turned as he moves towards an open table at the far end of the cafe, but even from behind, Haley can acknowledge that he's easy on the eyes. He's wearing jeans and a charcoal pullover, and he has a complicated-looking brace on his right knee. Obviously an athlete.

Catching herself slipping into a daydream, Haley scolds herself. Though she's never quite lived up to Brooke and Peyton's expectations of "living life" and "being young", she has a dating history that's both lengthy and colorful. As a teenager, she'd always been told that she would come into her own after high school--that the men would be lined up to date her.

And those people had been right.

Unfortunately, the men who are always lining up tend to fall into the category of either married, stalkerish, or downright deceitful. And while her friends and family are always reassuring her that she'll meet the right man when she least expects it, she's more than a little skeptical.

Quickly turning her attention back to her current table, Haley offers a sunny smile and scratches a few orders onto her notepad.

"We'll have that right out," she assures the family of four before turning away to take the drink order of the most recent arrival.

The floorboards creak beneath her feet as she heads in his direction and she can see that his dark head is still bent over the menu.

"Morning," she offers breathlessly, her smile aimed in his direction. "Are you ready to order?"

Her stomach feels like it falls into her feet when he looks up suddenly and meets her smile with a smirk of his own. With the exception of some added bulk to his frame and some sharpening to angles of his chiseled features, he looks the same. His dark hair is short and cropped close to his head while his eyes are as blue and piercing as ever. His smirk is still teasing and slightly lopsided, and Haley can tell that he's confused by her strong reaction to his presence.

"Busy morning, huh?" he inquires politely.

She can feel her eyes bug slightly at his nonchalant manner, and she grows irritated at his casual acceptance of their first encounter in five years.

He leans forward, a look of concern on his face. "Is something wrong?"

She stares at him, dumbfounded. And then it hits her.

He doesn't know who she is.

It shouldn't bother her. It's been five years after all. But the fact that he doesn't even recognize her? Letting out a laugh that sounds harsh even to her own ears, she rolls her eyes and begins tapping her foot nervously.

"You've got to be kidding me!" she exclaims. Then, catching herself, she shakes her head, "No, no, everything is fine. What can I get for you, Mr. Scott?"


He feels a small rush of excitement when he sees the pretty waitress heading his way. It's not as though there's a shortage of women willing to sleep with Nathan Scott, but if he can find someone to keep him occupied while he's in Tree Hill, he knows it will make his stay all the more enjoyable.

When she finally arrives and greets him with a smile that he feels all the way down to his groin, he offers a grin of his own and watches in surprise as her face falls slightly upon meeting his eyes.

Her eyes narrow in confusion and he can see that she's slightly flustered. It's a reaction he's used to receiving from females of all ages, shapes, and sizes, but somehow he's pretty sure that her sudden clamminess has nothing to do with her admiration of his basketball prowess. He's used to women swooning and fawning, but he's not quite sure what to do when a woman looks sickened to be in his presence.

Leaning forward slightly, Nathan catches her eye. "Is something wrong?"

Her eyes widen and for a quick second she looks like she's going to explode. Finally, a shrill laugh escapes her as she taps her foot irritably, and he's pretty sure this isn't her usual mode of operation. "You have got to be kidding me!" she exclaims before shaking her head. "No, no, everything is fine. What can I get for you, Mr. Scott?"

Nathan frowns. "Do I know you?"

"No," the young woman replies stiffly. "You don't. Now what can I get you?"

"An explanation would be nice. You seem to have come to the conclusion that you dislike me...I'd like to know what I've done to deserve your contempt."

"Well, I must have done something right if you can use the word 'contempt' so adeptly."

"What are you talking about?!" Nathan questions, aghast.

"Just forget it," she mutters in response, rolling her eyes.

"I don't think so," he protests.

She spins around, her eyes flashing. "Look, I could list reason after reason after reason that you deserve more than just contempt from me. I've had a bad day, a worse week, a horrific month, and five whole years to tally the reasons, but I have work to do." She chuckles bitterly, "I've got customers."

Nathan watches in disbelief as she stalks away.

A voice sounds from behind him, "Hmph. Wonder what you did."

"Excuse me?" Nathan turns around to face the owner of the voice.

An elderly woman purses her lips and daintily stirs the steaming mug of tea in front of her. She nods toward the irritable waitress. "I said, I wonder what you did. She's never been anything but sweet as pie in all the time I've known her."

"I didn't do anything," Nathan replies indignantly. "It's not my problem certain people are unhappy with their jobs."

The woman huffs slightly and scowls. Despite her diminutive stature, Nathan feels about three feet tall beneath her disapproving glare. "I hope you're not implying that your waitress is any less important than any other person in this world," she scolds.

Properly chastised, Nathan sighs, "No, ma'am. That's not what I'm implying."

Just then the blonde breezes up to the old woman's table. "Anything else, Marie?" she questions sweetly.

Marie shakes her head kindly before reaching out to take the blonde's hand, "No thank you, honey. But you're a godsend to Karen. I hope you know that."

The blonde shakes her head, "No, Marie. She's been there for me more times than I can count. It's the least I can do."

Marie pats her hand. "You're a blessing, Haley. You always have been." Marie nods toward Nathan. "Now I think this young man wanted to speak with you."

"Wait," Nathan cuts in. "Haley? As in Haley James?"

Haley turns around slowly, deliberately, and faces him with fury in her big brown eyes.

He gives a shocked laugh. "Wow, you look..." he trails off as he looks her up and down.

"Don't do that!" she snaps. "Now what can I get you?"

Marie snorts from behind him.

Nathan gives the old woman a hard look before glancing stubbornly towards his former tutor.

Nathan looks her in the eye. "Coffee," he states simply. "Black."

Haley gives a short half-nod and sends a final smile Marie's way. "I'll see you tomorrow, Marie."

The elderly woman nods in Haley's direction and then turns to Nathan. "Don't be an ass," she growls at him before standing and walking out the front door.

Nathan sits stunned for several moments as he processes the rapid fire sequence of events. His waitress knows him, his waitress hates him, a little old lady scolds him and then calls him an ass. What could be next?

"Nathan?"

Of course, he thinks.

Dan.

Turning around, he's greeted by the unfortunate sight of his father who's standing with his arms crossed, a smug look on his face as though he's just stumbled upon a winning lottery ticket.

"What are you doing here?" he sneers. "Shouldn't you be in Phoenix praying that they don't get rid of you after your lackluster season?"

"Shouldn't you have been at your son's funeral?" Nathan fires back.

Dan has the decency to look guilty for all of a nanosecond and then he gives Nathan a hard glare.

"It's a real tragedy. But Lucas was never really my son. I think we both know that."

"And you were never really a father," Nathan growls. "Doesn't change biological fact." Looking around uncomfortably, Nathan continues, "Look, I know your standards aren't very high, but your being here is really tacky...even for you."

Dan scans the cafe, a look of distaste on his face. "I only came in because I had to make sure I was wrong in thinking that the lonely guy I saw through the window could be my son. Because my son is a professional basketball player who has stupidly managed to injure himself again and should be trying to save face with the NBA big wigs. Not sipping mediocre coffee in a podunk cafe." He pauses for a moment, "I suppose you're staying at my beach house."

"It's not your beach house. And the only reason I have it now is because Mom never wanted to set foot in that place once she was finally rid of us. It's pretty much the only thing she ever did for me. Oh, and as far as basketball goes, I would tell you not to worry, but it's really not any of your business anymore, is it?" Nathan bites out angrily.

"The hell it's not my business!" Dan growls. "I made you! I got you to where you are today. If you go and blow it now...well, you're even more useless than I had suspected!"

Nathan shakes his head disbelievingly. He can't believe they're having this argument. Again.

"You pushed me to the brink--almost to the point of quitting. That's what you did for me. But I made the shots, I ran the drills, I attended the practices, and I won the games. Me!" Nathan growls quietly.

"You were weak," Dan argues spitefully. "And you got lucky. But you don't have what it takes to make it long-term in this game. I knew it from the start."

"And how would you know what it takes, Dad?" Nathan hisses. "What team did you play for in the NBA?"

Dan's face is flushed with anger and he glances around, suddenly aware that there are people watching the entire exchange. He lets out a laugh, attempting to make light of the situation in an effort to salvage his shaky reputation, "You're so ungrateful, Nathan. All your mother and I ever did was love you and give you everything you wanted."

"I don't think anyone in this town would believe that for a second," Haley breaks in skeptically.

Both Dan and Nathan turn in surprise to see Haley with a mug and a carafe of coffee, a look of repulsion on her face.

"This is a private conversation, sweetheart," Dan remarks coldly. "Why don't you go back to pouring coffee?"

"Well, it's not really private if it's occurring in a public place," she retorts. "And I can't believe you're classless enough to even set foot in this place. Then to speak to your son that way? I guess maybe Nathan did end have the short end of the stick for all those years."

"And just who do you think you are?" Dan snarls. "You think I'm going to let some small-town waitress talk to me like that?"

"I think I'm telling you that you need to leave. Or this small-town waitress is going to be calling the small-town police."

A look of understanding flickers across Dan's face and he lets out a maniacal laugh as he glances between Nathan and Haley. "Oh, I get it!" he exclaims. "You two are sleeping together? Well, she's easy on the eyes, son. I'll give you that. But even you could do better." Dan allows his eyes to rove over Haley from head to toe, and she squirms slightly under his stare.

"Just get the hell out," Nathan mutters furiously.

Raising his hands in defeat, Dan gives them a smile and then offers a wave to the rest of the cafe's customers. "Enjoy your meals, everyone!"

The bell jingles as the door closes behind him and Nathan releases the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"Thanks," he mumbles to Haley who is pouring coffee into the mug she's set on his table.

"Don't flatter yourself," she mutters. "That wasn't for you."

And then she walks away.


The bell chimes as he walks through the front door and makes his way back to the table he's claimed as his own for the past several days. He can't explain why he keeps coming back, especially since he gets nothing but verbal abuse from Haley. But a part of him is drawn to the banter they share--partly because he enjoys the challenge she presents, but also partly because he thinks he deserves the harsh treatment. And the fact that Haley is rather nice to look at doesn't hurt at all. Today she's wearing simple pair of jeans and a deep turquoise t-shirt. Her hair is twisted into a knot and a thin headband is containing any wayward strands. If he was a sappy guy, he would describe her as fresh and stunning. Luckily, he's not a sappy guy.

He can't help the smile that appears on his face as he watches her hurry from table to table, the pleasant expression never leaving her face for a moment.

Until she looks over and spots him.

Before he knows it, a mug of black coffee has been plunked down in front of him and he has a nice view of Haley's backside as she hurries away.

Amused by her behavior, Nathan picks up his mug and approaches Haley where she's standing behind the bar filling another drink order.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't order this."

Glancing up as she continues working, she rolls her eyes exasperatedly and huffs, "You've ordered the same exact thing for the past three days."

"But I didn't order this. What if I'd wanted something different?"

Haley cocks her head and narrows her eyes skeptically, "Do you?"

"Well, no...but that's not the point."

"So what's the point?"

Nathan shrugs, "I wanted you to come over and take my order."

Taking a deep breath, Haley rolls her eyes and yanks her notepad out of her apron. "Fine," she snaps. "What can I get you?"

"Coffee," Nathan smiles. "Black."

"Okay," she replies sweetly. Reaching over, she tugs the cup of coffee out of his hand and then makes a show of handing back to him. "There you go. Anything else?"

Nathan shakes his head. "Nope," he announces cheerfully. "That'll do it."

He stands and watches for a moment as she continues fiddling with a tray of mugs and spoons. He can't put his finger on what it is about her that has him so fascinated, but he's fairly certain he could stay and watch her for days on end without getting bored.

Suddenly, Haley stops what she's doing and looks him square in the eye. "What?! Why do you enjoy torturing me?" she asks honestly. "I mean, did I do something to you in, like, the second grade or something?"

Nathan thinks about it for a moment before responding honestly, "I'm not trying to torture you. I just can't seem to stay away."

"Well, you sure didn't have that problem when we were in high school," she points out as she resumes her work on the drink order.

"Well, I had a lot of other problems when I was in high school."

Haley laughs bitterly, "Yeah, I guess I didn't quite register on your radar."

"Well, you weren't exactly my biggest fan either. I seem to recall you giving me quite the verbal kick in the nuts. More than a few times actually."

Before she knows it, a short laugh has escaped her, and while she's quick to school her features back to their neutral position, she has inadvertently allowed him a split-second view of her glowing nature.

"You're really beautiful when you laugh," he remarks without thinking. And then almost immediately, he feels his face heating up over the fact that he just uttered such words.

"Please don't do that," she requests quietly as she pulls out a new coffee filter and begins brewing a new pot.

"Do what? Compliment you?"

"Try to use lines like that," she replies. "Please just...don't."

"Believe me, Haley. My lines are more clever than that. That was a simple statement of the obvious."

Releasing a heavy sigh, she stops and turns to face him once again.

"What do you want, Nathan?"

He looks her right in the face for several moments, and he sees a softness in her dark brown eyes that he's never really noticed before. Her face is lovely, but tired. He realizes he doesn't want to contribute to her anguish, no matter how much he enjoys her company.

"I guess I want to know why everyone loves you so much," he answers sincerely. "I want to know why Luke was willing to do just about anything for you. And I want to know why Brooke and Peyton talk about you like there's nobody they'd rather spend their time with."

She stands frozen for a second, obviously caught off guard by the thoughtful nature of his answer. Finally, she shakes herself from her state of shock and puts up an unaffected front.

"Well, I guess you're going to do a little bit of research," she replies distantly. "I don't have time to hang out with you just to satisfy some morbid curiosity. And even if I did, I wouldn't want to."

Picking up the tray of drinks, she hurries away and leaves Nathan to his cooling mug of black coffee.


"So how's life in Tree Hill, Haley James?" Brooke probes casually.

Haley throws herself back on the couch in her parents' living room and presses the phone to her other ear. "Fine, I guess. Work has been busy."

"You glad you decided to stay?" Peyton inquires.

Haley thinks about it for a moment before responding, "Yeah, I am."

"And have you run into anyone you know?" Brooke questions sneakily.

"You mean aside from Nathan Scott?"

"So you have seen him!" Peyton confirms.

"Like...every day. His new joy in life seems to be torturing me." She pauses. "Actually, it's not really a new joy... Today he actually told me that he wanted to get to know me."

"And what did you say?" both girls ask simultaneously.

"You know, if you guys are just going to use these three-way calls to tag-team me, I think I'm going to have to bow out next time," Haley whines.

"Aw, come on, Tutor Girl!" Brooke exclaims. "We want some gossip!"

"Are you kidding? There is no gossip. I told him if he wants to learn about me, he'll have to do some research. I don't have time to play his games."

"Haley!" Peyton scolds.

"Peyton!" Haley echoes mockingly.

"Come on, Haley. I know you're hurting, but you can't be a total bitch to every guy you come into contact with."

"What? Brooke, you know how he treated me!" Haley retorts defensively.

"Yeah, five years ago!" Brooke reminds her.

Peyton breaks in, "Haley, do you know how much you've changed in five years?"

"Not that much," Haley answers simply.

"Give me a break!" Brooke exclaims. "No, actually...give Nathan a break. Look, Hales, I know you and Lucas had that whole 'don't ask, don't tell' agreement about Nathan, but you should know that he's really changed. I'm not saying he's turned into a saint, but you should at least try to be civil to one another."

"She's right, Haley," Peyton adds. "Give the guy a chance to prove that he's changed. Maybe he'll surprise you."

Haley rolls her eyes and mutters, "I highly doubt it."


When Nathan walks into the cafe the next morning, he spots Marie sitting at a table near the door. After catching the menacing look she sends his way, he quickly opts to locate a table on the opposite side of the building. Glancing around he realizes Haley is nowhere to be seen and is disappointed to see a dark-haired teenager in a denim miniskirt and flip-flops moving from table to table with a pot of coffee in her hand. Within a few minutes the girl is headed in his direction and he's questioning her before she has the chance to ask for his order.

"Where's Haley?"

The younger girl narrows her eyes and shrugs carelessly. "I don't know. Something to do with school."

"School?" he asks.

The girl nods, eying him strangely. "Yeah, school. Why?"

Nathan frowns. Lucas had never discussed Haley or her life, but he'd always been under the impression that she'd gone to school out in California. After seeing her working at Karen's on a regular basis, however, he'd just figured that either he'd been wrong or she'd moved back to Tree Hill after graduating college.

"Is she at Tree Hill Community?" he asks the girl, his curiosity piqued.

The girl snorts and Nathan is starting to think he doesn't like her.

"Uh, that would be about four steps backwards, I think. Generally you don't graduate from USC only to head to Tree Hill Community."

"USC?"

"The University of Southern California," the girl says slowly, as though making sure he can understand her words.

"I'm sorry, uh..."

"Julia."

"I'm sorry, Julia. I'm just confused. I thought she was working here."

"She was," Julia replies. "When she was in high school and on college breaks."

"But yesterday..."

"Yesterday she was helping Karen out. Just like she was supposed to today and will be tomorrow and the next day and so on."

"So why isn't she here today?"

"She had to make up some kind of last-minute exam and her professor is letting her do it by phone."

"At USC."

"No. At Stanford."

"But I thought..."

"Okay, stay with me, slowpoke. Haley went to Tree Hill High. Since she's pretty much a genius, she graduated at the top of her class and got a full-ride to USC. After graduating with honors from USC, she was accepted to law school at Stanford. She's finishing her first year of law school right now. You follow?"

He nods slowly as he watches Julia fill his mug with black coffee. Well, Haley had said he'd have to do his research. Looks like he's found his source.

"So what else can you tell me about Haley?" he questions nonchalantly.

"Why are you so interested in her anyway?" she asks, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Are you a stalker?"

Thrown off by the girl's immediate suspicion, Nathan hesitates for a moment before shaking his head, "No. No, actually I'm Luke's brother."

Immediately the younger girl's face softens.

"Oh," she murmurs. "You're Nathan. Sorry."

"Thanks," he replies.

Julia watches him closely for several moments and she seems to be waging some sort of internal battle. Finally, she sighs, "Okay, what did you want to know exactly?"


The cemetery makes for a rather difficult terrain to navigate while attempting to do so on a wobbly pair of crutches. Between the marble headstones and the unavoidable dips and divots, the path to Luke's grave is a veritable obstacle course. But it's an obstacle course that he's faced each day for the past week and a half, all in an effort to pay his brother a visit. He's been surprised to find just how quieting an experience it is to just sit beneath the large shade tree and ponder the many decisions he knows he will need to make in the not-too-distant future.

As he maneuvers through a narrow row of polished white headstones, he heaves a sigh a relief when he spots the now-familiar spot he's seeking.

Except today, for the first time, he finds that he's not alone.

She's resting on her knees, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her head bowed slightly as she looks to the ground. The lawn is slightly wet and he knows that the knees of her jeans will most likely be muddy, but she seems unconcerned with such trivial things as she remains seated and unaware of her surrounding environment.

Finally, after several moments of watching her, he feels as though he's intruding on a private moment and decides to make his presence known.

He clears his throat loudly and announces, "Well, if it isn't Haley James. Tree Hill High student tutor. Class Valedictorian. Full academic scholarship to USC. Summa Cum Laude from the Annenberg School at USC. First year Stanford Law. And maybe most importantly, beloved citizen of Tree Hill. Did I mention that she's also kind of gorgeous?"

Turning from where she's perched on her knees, Haley shields her eyes from the sharp glare of the sunshine and sighs when she sees a smirking Nathan standing just a few yards away.

"Nathan Scott. Grade-A son-of-a-bitch and all-around pain in my ass."

"I guess that's me," he responds with a shrug. "And for the record, there are worse asses I could have chosen."

Haley glares at him. "So what? I'm supposed to be impressed that you went back and dug up dated information about me? Flattered that you're no longer repulsed by me?"

"You don't have to be anything. Although, for the record, I was never repulsed by you. Besides," Nathan shrugs, "you told me to do some research. I was just satisfying my own curiosity."

"You have heard about curiosity and the cat, haven't you?" Haley deadpans.

Nathan continues smirking, his blues eyes glittering with mirth as he watches her get huffy. He's used to have an extreme effect on women, but normally they're swooning or groping or squealing. He's never been able to get under a woman's skin the way he seems to get to Haley. For some reason, he really likes that he does that to her.

Nathan adjusts his crutches beneath his arms and then tilts his head thoughtfully.

"What are you doing here?" he asks her after a moment.

She squints at him for just a moment as though she's deciding whether or not to bother responding.

"I've been here every day since I've been back in Tree Hill," she finally replies.

"Yeah," Nathan says quietly. "Me too. But that's not what I asked you."

Haley looks up, surprised by his admission, and avoids his question with one of her own.

"You've been here every day?"

Nathan is annoyed. "Well, he was my brother."

"He still is," Haley corrects gently, her eyes on the ground in front of her. "And I'm sorry. I guess I just...have a hard time accepting the fact that the two of you actually grew even closer after high school."

"Well, a lot of things changed after high school," Nathan mutters. "I'm sure you're not the same person you were back then."

"No," Haley agrees. "I'm not."

"So why is it so hard to believe that someone could have changed in five years?"

She throws her hands in the air exasperatedly and exclaims, "Because! To this day, I've never met anyone with less regard for the feelings of others than the Nathan Scott I knew in high school. I still have no idea how you and Lucas could possibly have shared the same genes."

Nathan laughs dryly, "Believe me, I wonder about that all the time."

And with those few words, Nathan catches Haley's attention. The sorrow and self-deprecating tone ring so true that she wonders suddenly if maybe losing Lucas has been even harder on Nathan than it's been on her. She has a whole lifetime of silly memories and ridiculous stories. Nathan, on the other hand, has to deal with two losses: the loss of a future with his brother and the loss of any chance they could have had to make up for their lost years.

She can hold onto the remember-whens.

He's stuck with the what-ifs.

With this in mind, for the first time in more than five years, Haley James looks up and looks Nathan Scott in the eye without any trace of anger or disgust. She just tilts her head and raises her chin, her eyes wide and searching as though she's trying her hardest to see beyond whatever front or facade he's putting forth.

Nathan feels like he's had the wind knocked out of him when he sees her looking up at him, her expression totally lacking any pretense or judgment. Her golden hair is down and fluttering slightly with the breeze as she blinks up at him, the sunshine gilding her elegant features. Her dark eyes are warm and soothing, and Nathan suddenly feels a bit like he's suffocating at the sight of her settled on the grass so natural and unassuming.

"Uh," he stutters, trying furiously to get jog his mind and get his focus back to where it belongs. He sure as hell can't be sitting here having...thoughts about Haley James. He scrambles for a cool recovery and casually asks, "Why are you still in Tree Hill? Everyone else was gone almost as soon as the funeral was over. Brooke went back to New York. Jake and Peyton went back to Providence. Why aren't you back in sunny California?"

"I have obligations here. Responsibilities." She chuckles bitterly, lowering her eyes back to her fidgeting hands. "Not that you would know anything about that."

"Yeah, because I know nothing about responsibility," Nathan mutters, cursing the fact that he's still injured and unable to make a quick and heated exit. "You know what? Forget I tried." Slowly, he starts to heft himself to his feet, but he's caught off guard by her vexed response.

"Why are you trying, Nathan? You don't owe me anything. I just don't understand why now, after all these years, you come back and try to act like you and I ever had something to salvage..." she trails off scornfully. "I mean, you sure as hell aren't going to score any points with Luke at this stage!"

Nathan winces at the mention of his brother and shakes his head, attempting once again to get back on his feet.

Haley watches him struggle clumsily for a moment and then sighs heavily, "I'm here for Karen. She's going to need someone. So I'm taking some time off and..."

Upon hearing the softened tone of her voice, Nathan halts and turns slowly.

"Some time off from Stanford Law," he clarifies. "Very impressive."

"More so than someone who's bitter about pouring coffee for a living, right?" she challenges, her eyes flashing with something that looks like amusement.

"Touche."

Immediately, she turns her attention back to the grave in front of her. There's no headstone yet--just a small plaque to mark the spot. Reaching down, she brushes her fingers across the raised letters of Luke's name and tries her very best to ignore the broad shadow that continues to loom overhead.

"Look, Haley," Nathan starts as he struggles to lower himself back to the ground. "I did a lot of stupid shit when I was in high school." He chuckles bitterly, "Hell, I still do a lot of stupid shit. Five years ago, I pretty much said what I wanted to say and did what I wanted to do regardless of consequences. I didn't think much about how those choices affected other people. And I didn't really care."

"How convenient for you," Haley says dryly.

"Yeah," he grumbles. "Really convenient. Until the world stops catering to your every whim and you realize that you can work your ass off and still never be good enough. It's a wake-up call I could have done without."

Struggling in vain to make himself comfortable on the ground, Nathan arranges his right leg so it juts awkwardly in front of him, but relieves his knee of the pinching pressure of his brace. Leaning back to rest on his palms, he attempts to steer their conversation in a more casual direction.

"You know, you never answered my question."

"What question would that be?" Haley asks, glancing up wearily.

"Why are you here every day?"

She arches a shaped brow challengingly before responding, "Guilt, I guess."

Nathan frowns. "Guilt?" he echoes in confusion. "What do you have to be guilty for? I was under the impression that you're as close to perfect as they come."

"I'm far from perfect," Haley replies distantly. "Miles from perfect."

"Okay, fair enough. You're not perfect. But less than perfect doesn't equal guilt."

"It does for me," she says firmly.

They're both silent for several moments. A lawnmower buzzes in the distance and a bird calls loudly from overhead.

"Well, we're quite a pair," Nathan declares finally.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because we're two people who have spent the last five years avoiding each other. And here we are, both attempting to absolve ourselves of guilt over something that probably neither of us had any control over."

She looks up sharply.

"You?"

He simply nods before changing the subject. "So how long are you here for?"

Haley pauses to consider it and then shrugs, "I'm not sure."

Nathan tugs some grass from the ground and begins plucking at it. "Yeah, me neither," he mumbles.

Haley hesitates for a moment before explaining, "I feel like I need some time away from my life. Just to...process everything, I guess."

Nathan nods in agreement, "Yeah, I don't really know where to go from here. But I sure as hell don't think I can go back to the way things used to be. I don't want to go back to that."

"Neither do I," Haley murmurs. "But it's not like I can just ignore my life either."

Another moment of silence passes between them, this one more comfortable than the last.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'd really rather not be totally alone in this godforsaken town for the next couple of months...or however long I stay. God knows I could use an ally in this madness."

Haley looks up, her eyes narrowed. "What are you suggesting?" she asks.

"What if we decided to call a truce?"

"A truce?" Haley's face scrunches slightly in confusion.

"Yeah. A break, a ceasefire, a--"

"I know what it means," she remarks, cutting him off with a good-natured eye-roll.

He shrugs, "So, what do you say? Truce?"

Haley is quiet for a moment, a pensive look on her face. Finally, she nods, "I think Lucas would like that."

Grinning happily, Nathan thrusts a hand toward her, "Haley James? I'm Nathan Scott. I've heard a lot about you."

Surprised, Haley just looks at his hand for a moment before slowly reaching out to accept his handshake.

"It's nice to meet you, Nathan," she smiles. "I've heard a lot about you too."