A/N: I figured I should post this chapter quickly since it does kind of satisfy the concept of the story. I appreciate those that took the time to review the first chapter and hope more will follow.


Chapter Two: Shards

The Range was a rather upscale sports bar located in downtown Wilmington, but it wasn't upscale in a snooty way, nor did the place radiate an aura of exclusion directed towards any of society's so-called lower-crust. It was impressive to look at, the entrance flanked by ceiling-to-floor plate-glass windows that were meticulously spotless and an interior that was spacious and boasted a high ceiling.

The bar top sported finely polished oak and the tops of the bar stools and the couches arrayed around the joint were made of fine black leather, all resting upon a striking red velvet carpet. Several plasma screen television sets were mounted on walls and high up looking downward, broadcasting any number of different sports in high definition. And of course, the bar was stocked with a wide assortment of fine alcohols and beverages.

Conversely, the walls of The Range were composed of weathered red brick, lending a humble and cozy vibe to the place. This was compounded by how cheap and affordable most of the items served at the bar were, and because of that, on any given night, The Range attracted a diverse crowd of patrons. From working-class stiffs, to yuppies, to lawyers and corporate execs, all of them came to The Range to relax, have a few beers, and take in a ballgame or boxing match or whatever stoked their interest. The owner obviously chose an appropriate name for the place.

Lucas sat on one of the many plush leather couches beside Nathan and Haley who were currently engaged in a conversation with three execs from Reebok whose names Lucas honestly couldn't remember. He had tuned out the conversation long ago and was simply sitting and nursing his beer. Although the place was as lively as ever, it wasn't crowded and the noise level wasn't such that you had trouble hearing the person next to you. Lucas was grateful for that. He hated crowds.

In spite of his apprehension the previous night, the day had gone pretty smoothly. Lucas had met up with Nathan and Haley at the house they owned in Tree Hill early this morning and had taken Jamie off their hands so the couple could have the day to themselves. He loved spending time with his nephew so it had been no chore for Lucas. He and Jamie had had a great time down at the Rivercourt and throughout the afternoon and early evening, they had loitered around the park and the boardwalk, sipping on sodas and sucking on ice-cream cones. It was rare that Lucas got to spend a day with his nephew like this because Nathan and Haley had lived in another state for the past two years, but whenever he did get the chance to spend time with Jamie, he always felt so cleansed afterward. The kid was so witty and intelligent for his age, and so full of life and energy and innocence that you couldn't help but feel reinvigorated after being around him.

Eventually, after leaving Jamie with the sitter, he, Nathan and Haley had had dinner at one of their favorite restaurants in Tree Hill before driving up to Wilmington, and surprisingly it had been pleasant. No lectures, or comments or critiques about the way he was living his life. It had almost felt like old times.

Taking another sip of his Coors, Lucas froze suddenly, his attention drawn to something in his peripheral vision. A flash of blond curls. But it couldn't be.

There, at the bar. Lucas shifted his gaze to his right and his crystal blue eyes landed upon a woman with dark-blond shoulder-length hair arrayed in flaxen curls. She was tall with a slender and streamlined body that was sporting a royal-blue strapless dress.

Lucas felt his heart speed up and his breath leave him. His pulse pounded in his ears. Was it really her? If so, what was she doing here? Had Nathan or Haley invited her without telling him? Why would they do that? A million thoughts and questions ricocheted through his mind.

And then the woman turned around to scan the crowd in back of her, and instead of emerald green he was met with icy-blue. The woman's features were round and heart-shaped rather than sharp and angular. It wasn't her.

His eyes tightly shut, Lucas allowed his vitals to return to normal before he opened his eyes and took a long drag from the bottle still in his hand. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Lucas couldn't count the number of times he'd be walking down the street or in his car and would see a woman with a head of blond curls and think it was her for a second. But then even a familiar song or the scent of a certain perfume or shampoo could remind him of her. It didn't take much.

But in the end, it was never Peyton.

Placing his bottle down on the glass table that occupied the space between the two sets of couches, Lucas suddenly felt someone's gaze on him, and when he turned to his left, he spotted Haley staring at him with a look of concern in her chocolate-brown eyes.

Lucas sighed inwardly and looked away self-consciously. He got looks like that from her all the time nowadays, and though he knew his best friend's concern was born out of love, it still irritated and unsettled him. Nathan was guilty of this as well, though not as much as Haley. Neither of them were happy with the decisions he'd made the past few years, and if he was being honest with himself, neither was Lucas, but it was what it was.

The focal-point of their ire was his getting expelled from Gilmore two and a half years ago which had coincided with his getting fired as head coach of the Cobras. Whitey had definitely not been pleased about that, either.

Two years ago, after the disastrous proposal incident, he'd been a virtual zombie when he'd returned from LA. Lucas hadn't cared about anything, certainly not coursework or his coaching duties. The only thing he'd been able to focus on had been the enormous hole where his heart had once been, and he'd attempted to fill it with alcohol and self-pity. Long story short, it came to the point where he only attended his classes when he got bored with everything else and he never made an effort to turn in his assignments or show up for the exams. So after failing all of his classes the following semester, Lucas's GPA had dropped below the 2.0 line and they kicked him out. Simple as that.

Haley went ballistic. In all the years he had known her, Lucas had never seen her so enraged. Nathan had actually had to physically restrain her and feed her a Zannex to calm her down. His mother had been heartbroken and had refused to take his calls for weeks at a time. There was no doubt that Lucas had been in a pretty dark place that year, probably the darkest place he'd ever been in, and it had definitely strained his relationship with his family and friends to the near breaking point.

After his expulsion, Lucas had returned to Tree Hill and to his childhood home. His mother had left it in his name after she'd rekindled her relationship with Andy and joined him on the high seas, taking his little sister Lily with her. He'd found work at the auto shop Keith had once owned, which now belonged to a man named Earl Loman. Earl had been one of Keith's oldest friends and was remarkably similar in character. He was an honest man and an honest mechanic and when he'd decided to expand the shop and had needed additional workers, he'd been thrilled to take Lucas on as a full time employee. It wasn't exactly a six-figure salary, but Lucas worked hard and he worked a lot of overtime so he had no problem making ends meet. Besides, he genuinely enjoyed the work. That shop held a lot of memories for Lucas and being there made him feel closer to Keith in some ways.

So lost in his thoughts, he hadn't heard Haley when she initially spoke.

"Luke? Lucas!"

He snapped out of his reverie and met Haley's eyes, as well as Nathan's, who was also staring at him now.

"You okay?" she asked. "You looked like you were a million miles away."

"Sorry. Just lost in thought," he replied.

"Would those thoughts happen to involve a certain blond-haired girl who likes old vinyl records and…OW!" Nathan's sudden outcry was in response to Haley smacking him, hard. She hissed a reprimand to him in a low tone, but not low enough to escape the attention of the three representatives from Reebok who had stopped chatting amongst themselves to glance over at them curiously.

Lucas could only smile sardonically. Nathan was trying to get a rise out of him, but he wasn't going to take the bait.

Haley turned her attention back to Lucas. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Hales, I'm fine." He hoped he sounded convincing. "I'm sorry I zoned out. Won't happen again."

Haley looked at him hard for a minute before sighing and turning away. Lucas knew she was just itching to corner him sometime later in order to grill him, and in fact, he'd had an inkling she'd wanted to do that all day. Something to look forward to.

Nathan glanced at his watch. "Anyway, soon as Barry gets his ass in gear, we can get on with the show."

"He better," Haley responded. "The sitter's time is almost up and I don't want to force her into overtime."

As if on cue, the man in question showed up carrying a box that no doubt contained Nathan's shoe.

Barry Paige was a high-ranking executive of Reebok. He had personally spearheaded the development of Nathan's shoe line and had been very accommodating to him. He was in his early thirties, bespectacled, and had somewhat patrician features, a slight build, and finely groomed dark hair.

"I'm very sorry, but there was an accident on the freeway and traffic was murder," he said. "I'm afraid I can't stay long as I have a dinner engagement I can't miss, but I wanted to be here personally to do the honors."

"That's okay. I still can't believe this is really happening and I know it wouldn't have without your hard work, so thank you," Nathan said.

Barry shook his head. "You're the brand, I just market it. Oh, and I took the liberty of reserving a limo for you in case you aren't up to driving. It's waiting a few blocks down the street."

"Thanks man, you're way too generous."

"It's all a testament to your success," Barry replied. "Now, should we get on to the main event?"

There was a chorus of "yes's" in response, and Haley grasped her husband's hand and whispered something in his ear that made him smile. At that instant, Lucas suddenly felt his mood lighten considerably. He was so proud of his brother, and being here to witness his success was uplifting. Better yet, it made him feel like he was back in the fold. Lucas knew he'd been distant from those close to him lately, and now seemed like the perfect opportunity to change that. It was shaping up to be a great night.

Barry stood up, facing the group, and slowly unveiled the shoe. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced. "The NS 23."

The air filled up with applause and Nathan quickly reached for the shoe. "Let me see it." Barry handed him the shoe and Nathan held it as if it were a crown jewel, which to him it probably was. He showed it to Haley next and the pride and love she radiated was almost visible to the eye.

Nathan turned back to Barry. "Barry, thank you so much." The two men shook hands, and then Barry said he was already late for his dinner engagement and, after another round of gratitude from Nathan and Haley, made a hasty departure.

"Oh baby, that's awesome," Haley said. "I have to go relieve the sitter, but you guys should stay and celebrate."

"You sure?" Nathan asked.

"Yeah," she replied as she stood up. She turned to the Reebok execs. "Thank you guys."

"Okay, see you later tonight, and drive safe," Nathan said.

"I will." She gave Nathan a kiss and exchanged a quick hug with Lucas and then she left.

Lucas slid over toward Nathan. "Give it up."

"Check it out." Nathan handed him the shoe and Lucas chuckled. It was streamlined and stylish and would undoubtedly sell out the first week. Clinking their beer bottles together, Lucas and Nathan exchanged cheers and for a little while longer they made small talk with the trio of execs, until they too had to leave.

Lucas was going to ask Nathan something about Jamie, but before he could, they were approached by a quartet of guys. They each looked to be about late-twentyish and were dressed in casual clothes. The guy in front, a short preppy-looking type with long dirty-blond hair held a piece of paper in his hand and extended it towards Nathan.

"Hey man, can I get an autograph?" he asked.

"Sure," Nathan replied, accepting the slip of paper.

Though he wasn't sure why, Lucas sensed an air of phoniness about the guy. There was an aura of malice that underlined his chummy demeanor. His intuition was quickly proven right.

"Thanks. Yeah, just write, 'To Greg, Portland's biggest fan,'" he paused and then moved in close to Nathan, a vicious sneer forming on his lips. "'Seattle sucks, and so do I!'" This earned a round of hyena-like chuckles from the other guys in Greg's group.

Lucas snorted. The night wouldn't have been complete without an encounter with a pack of testosterone spewing assholes who took professional basketball way too seriously. Lucas was fairly sure Greg wouldn't have been nearly as abrasive or bold had he not had his buddies with him. Typical moron.

Instead of flaring up in anger like Lucas half-expected him to, Nathan just calmly stared at the idiot for a few seconds, and then began to write on the slip of paper. "'To Greg'" he recited as he wrote. "'Enjoy losing to us next year, your pal Nathan Scott.'" He handed the slip back to Greg. "There you go buddy."

Lucas wanted to laugh, but Greg was no longer amused. He grabbed the slip roughly, crumpled it up, and tossed it aside. That provoked Nathan into action, and he whipped to his feet getting in the guy's face. "You got a problem, man?"

Lucas was on his feet a split-second later, interposing himself between Nathan and Greg. "No, no, walk away," he pleaded. He could feel the impending violence in the air. Particularly, there was one guy in Greg's pack that seemed to be seething with the desire to bust someone's skull. He was the tallest one of the group, about six-foot-four, dark buzz-cut hair, broad-shouldered and built like a tank. He was currently poised and ready, as if eagerly anticipating a fight. Lucas wanted to avoid that at all costs.

"You got too much to lose," Lucas reasoned, hoping Nathan would step down.

"C'mon man, let's see what you got!" Greg taunted.

"You got too much to lose here, okay?" Lucas repeated once again, hoping to drown out Greg's obnoxious jabber.

Fortunately, Nathan had gotten the message. "Alright, alright."

Briskly, via silent agreement, they went back to their seats, gathered their things and proceeded toward the door past the unruly quartet. Unfortunately, Greg the Perpetual Frat Boy had to have the last word. "Yeah, that's it, listen to your girlfriend."

Lucas had to fight the urge to punch the guy himself. Nathan bristled, but instead of turning back towards the guy, he quickened his pace and was out the door several steps ahead of Lucas. The night sky was inky black and the street was mostly deserted save for only a few cars that passed now and then.

Unconcerned about cross-traffic, Nathan dashed across the street, still visibly agitated. When Lucas caught up to him, he rested a hand on his brother's shoulder. "You did the right thing, Nate. The guy's just some random ass who means nothing. Don't worry about him."

Nathan nodded, but his jaw was clenched tightly and the lines of anger had not completely faded from his face. Though he'd come a long way from the arrogant and self-destructive boy he'd been before he'd met Haley, Nathan still had trouble controlling his temper sometimes. "You're right. I just want to go home."

"Sit tight. I'll go get the limo," Lucas said. Leaving his brother alone for a moment, he set off in search of the limo which was parked a few blocks down. He located the driver, who was having coffee in a nearby Starbucks, and after telling him they were ready to go, he started back toward where he'd left Nathan.

But when he got there, Nathan was gone.

Lucas swore when he heard the sounds of a commotion coming from inside The Range, and he picked up into a run, his stomach dropping. Through one of the plate-glass windows, he took in the scene: his brother being held from behind by one of Greg's goons while another goon, the six-foot-four brute, mercilessly pounded on him as stunned bystanders gaped at the spectacle.

Without even thinking, or considering the consequences, Lucas was in motion, already mentally preparing himself for a fight. Inside the bar, Lucas went straight for the brute. Cocking his left arm, he unleashed the most powerful left hook he could muster, putting his entire body into the swing. His blow connected squarely with the brute's cheek, and his head snapped to his left. However, the brute barely reacted otherwise and Lucas's arm felt like a raw nerve. It'd been like punching concrete.

Using Lucas's intervention to his advantage, and no longer subjected to the brute's punishing blows, Nathan freed himself from the grip of the other guy and began to turn the tables on his assailant. Lucas took the time to notice that Greg was down and out cold on the floor while the fourth member of the unruly quartet was nowhere in sight, apparently wise enough not to involve himself in the fracas.

But even though it was two-on-two, Lucas still felt outmatched. The brute had four inches and about thirty pounds over Lucas and he was built like a boxer. He glowered at Lucas, eyes full of alcohol-induced rage. Frighteningly fast, he closed the distance. Lucas threw a jab at his torso but it was like punching a tractor-tire and the brute didn't even blink. Instead, he seized Lucas's neck in a vice-like grip and delivered his own jab to Lucas's solar plexus.

It was like being gored by a steel beam. The air in his lungs deserted him and Lucas felt like throwing up. The brute landed another iron punch to his abdomen, and then another, and Lucas could've sworn he heard a rib or two break. Feeling as though he was going to pass out, Lucas somehow summoned the strength to head-butt the brute. White hot pain exploded in his skull, but Lucas was rewarded with a crunching sound and a yelp of pain from the brute. The brute held the bloody mass that was now his nose, but he still didn't let go of Lucas, un-phased by his now broken nose.

The brute's rage seemed to boil over even more and he suddenly grabbed Lucas's right arm with his other hand. He struggled as hard as he could, but, weakened and shaky from the brute's blows, Lucas's resistance was all but useless. Abruptly, the brute freed Lucas's neck from the grip of his meaty hand only to grab hold of his shirt. Lucas clawed at the brute's arms to no effect. He tried to kick against him or knee the giant in a sensitive spot, but his legs didn't seem to want to respond to his commands.

The brute began to push forward and as he did so, he started to swing Lucas around until he was dragging him along from the side. As they picked up speed and momentum, the brute swung Lucas all the way around. And then he finally let go.

For a split second, Lucas was airborne. Dizzy, seeing spots, nauseous and weak, Lucas nonetheless retained an instant of perfect awareness where time seemed to slow to a crawl. In that instant, Lucas knew his life was about to change drastically. He sensed it. And all because of a stupid bar fight.

Lucas's body shattered the plate-glass window and he tumbled onto the sidewalk outside, a blizzard of glass shards sprinkling down on and around him. A spike of molten-hot pain pierced his back and spread throughout the rest of his spine like wildfire. In his twenty-two years of being alive Lucas had never felt such agony. He couldn't even scream. His breath caught in his throat and the only sound that came from his mouth was a strangled wheezing.

Then the agony changed from molten hot and fiery, to icy. And before long, the pain transformed into a frigid numbness. His legs were gone, or at least, they were gone from his senses because all he could feel were pins and needles. Lucas didn't need to try to know that he couldn't move them.

Nathan's face suddenly appeared above his as he kneeled over him. He was saying something but Lucas couldn't make it out. "Nate…I can't feel my legs," Lucas groaned out, though he didn't know if he'd even managed to speak the words. His brother was now looking up and around and shouting, but Lucas still couldn't hear what he was saying.

Gradually, Nathan and the night sky and the streetlights began to fade, and Lucas knew he was losing consciousness, and he didn't know whether he'd ever wake up again. So before he plunged into total darkness, possibly forever, Lucas summoned an image in his mind, something to hold onto during his eternal sleep.

He summoned Peyton's face.

And then he was gone.

~Chapter Two End