23
By Grace (purplemud)

Pairing: Naley and a bit of Leyton and Brucas
Summary: Nathan Scott is done playing basketball. In fact, if he's going to be honest about it, he's done with living. But one funeral just might change that. AU. Totally.
Warning: Character death. Strong language. Some sexual content in the future. Maybe.
Author's note: Much thanks for the awesome feedback. I really appreciate it. There will be some sort of Leyton and Brucas although more in terms of the back-story and some flashbacks.
Disclaimers: Standard disclaimers apply. Me don't own. Please don't sue.

Four

They're all under a shade of some old, massive tree. Nathan has no idea what sort of tree this is, he isn't exactly a garden and plant person but it's huge and provided enough shade for all three of them. Tim and Jake are leaning heavily on the tree, looking around, purposely avoiding each other's eyes. This has been the most silent Tim has been in a long time and Nathan is almost amused by this and he would've certainly made some comment already if it weren't for the fact that this wasn't the place and time to be smirking and being a smart ass.

He's a standing solemnly away from them. A lone, solitary figure, arms tightly crossed against his chest, feet parted wide apart. From a far, he looks almost angry and glowering but he is neither. He's just there and not there all at the same time. It's possible, Nathan thinks to himself, to forget about the past, avoid it, disregard it, carelessly toss it aside - at least for a certain amount of time and then it catches up to you and you're taken by surprise, the suddenness of it all. The past is all around him, overwhelming, inescapable. He wonders briefly why even though his throat feels as though it's burning, the tears still won't come. And if they did come, it certainly isn't for Lucas or his father. It would be for something that he had lost along the way, something that might have been precious to him, if only he knew what that is.

Around them, the sun is still shining brightly, warmly. It's not the best day to die or to say goodbye, Nathan notes. The sky isn't gray and weeping. It's impossibly blue, the birds twittering and chirping about. The few remaining people trickling out of the chapel, all wearing black, look so out of place. Wrong. Not at all right. They watch silently as Lucas's family and friends (long lost, old, and new) say goodbye to each other, tearfully hugging and clutching one other. It's almost like a scene at the airport, except this time, the one who left is never ever going to come back.

Nathan spots Karen almost immediately. She's a small woman; dark haired and calm. She's standing alone, apart from the crowd and if you're an outsider, looking in, just like Nathan, watching this unfold before you, you'd immediately know that she's the grieving mother. You'd sense it from the eerie blank look on her face and the constant stream of tears running down her cheeks, tears she doesn't even seem to be aware of. People are stopping by her side giving her long, bone-crushing hugs, solemn pats on the shoulder, and watery, salty kisses on her cheeks.

For a brief moment Nathan is overwhelmed by the sudden urge to come up to her and hug her and apologize for everything. She didn't have to know who he is and maybe if he says sorry, maybe everything would start to be okay. Or maybe he could tell Lucas' mom that sometimes he feels like he's also dead. At least almost, little bit dead anyway. He could definitely tell her that instead of just 'I'm sorry' which is so pathetic and flimsy and just plain worthless.

If it's any consolation, Ms. Roe, my mother thinks she has already lost me as well.

Maybe that'll make her feel a little bit better.

"Nate?"

Nathan's hands are shaking and it's unnerving, seeing the tremors running through his fingers. He quickly shoves his hands inside his jeans. "C'mmon." He practically barks, shaking his head at his own stupidity. What did he think? That he could just easily walk in and ask to be a part of this - well, whatever the hell this is? Everyone who had secretly leered and sneered at him in high school, all of those who thought of him as nothing but a dumb jock - damn good one maybe, but he was still dumb - well, they were all vindicated today. He could not believe that he had driven all the way here only to find, nothing really. Nothing new anyway. "Let's get outta here." He quickly steps back, sharply turning around, fighting the urge to run back to his car.

"Wha-?" Tim makes a clumsy about face, walking stiff as a board.

Nathan hears Jake muttering behind him but he ignores him. He keeps his stare straight ahead, he imagines the car as the basket, the goal. He needs to reach his car as soon as possible - sooner than this - dammit, did he have to park so far away from the chapel? He keeps his stride long and quick, Jake's muttering fading as he moves forward, forward... just a few more steps, just a few more...

"Hey, hey wait." A girl calls out to them and Nathan almost pitches forward as his own two feet impossibly gets tangled together. Clumsy. This is quickly becoming a real bad day. He has never been clumsy ever.

"Hey, stop!" The voice orders and he plants his feet firmly on the ground, even though every part of him is screaming to just forget it, go, run for it. How stupid would he look if he did just that? Thankfully, despite the mental screams and command to go forward, his feet stays put. He feels his heart suddenly banging against his chest. He paused for a few second, takes a deep breath and then slowly turns around, so does Tim and Jake who both looked like their having some sort of really, really weird nightmare together.

"Nathan?"

He blinks twice, thrice and he thinks that he must be hallucinating. There is just no way. No freaking way. But the girl before him does not disappear. She stares up at him, her eyes wide and confused. Questioning. He sees his eyes reflected in hers, their expressions mirroring each other. He swallows hard and finally finds his voice: "Peyton?"

The Peyton Illusion does not waver. She is still standing in front of him and Nathan's heart returns to its normal, almost sluggish beating as soon as he realizes that she's real and not some guilt ridden apparition that he had conjured up. She is certainly the last person Nathan ever thought he'd see here. It's almost funny how just this morning he was thinking about her and now here she is, looking like she had changed and not changed at all. She's wearing the same black leather jacket that she always wore - a gift from her mom, that much he knows, probably the only thing he knows about Peyton's mom. He glances down and sure enough, she's also wearing the same old black skirt that always goes with that jacket. And, of course, don't forget the faded, worn out black boots.

He brings his eyes backs up at her face. Her mouth still has that slanted angry look that never quite disappears, that is until she smiles, which she rarely ever does. She has cut her hair though. Its shorter now and lot curlier than the last time he saw her. She looks up at him, meets his scrutinizing gaze and Nathan suddenly remember being with her and its odd, how he feels as though it had happened so many lifetimes ago. It's like a memory of a memory of a memory and if he starts to really think about it, the Nathan who dated Peyton then is nowhere near the Nathan who is standing in front of her now. The Nathan then would've smirked at her, leaned down real low so he could skim his lips across her cheeks so he could ask her, "You stalking me now Peyt?"

The Nathan now, he merely nods his head before taking a step back, darting his eyes to where he spotted Karen earlier. She's gone and he is definitely sorry that he never got to tell her anything at all. Shaking his head, unsure of why he is suddenly filled with regret, he turns his attention back to Peyton and watches silently as Tim and Jake say their brief hello's and the customary, "How have you been doing?"

"Not well." Peyton replies in a voice that didn't sound like her at all: small and soft.

But before Nathan could ask her anymore, she goes on to explain that after their long-overdue break up, she moved here to Oak Lake to be with a cousin or something.

Peyton is full of surprises today. She's shaking her head as she tells them how she's been living here for a more than a year now. She's actually a part time music teacher at some private school for the incredibly rich and impossibly bratty kids.

Nathan raises his eyebrows at this, pictures Peyton surrounded by bored eight years old and he isn't quite sure who he's more sorry for, Peyton or all those little kids who's being forced to listen to The Buzzcocks and The Sex Pistols.

For a moment Peyton seems to be on the verge of smiling but then the sudden tolling of the bells seemed to have reminded her where she is and her mouth slants downward again. She shakes her head, blonde curls springing about, not long enough now to send them flying about. Those long-ago golden flying curls that Nathan had thought to be so... girly. "What are you guys doing here?" She finally asks frowning, looking both curious and confused.

Tim and Jake open their mouths, silently moving their jaws in some phantom, elaborate wordless explanation, before snapping it shut. For some reason, they're both channeling each other as they both immediately start making futile hand gestures before simultaneously dropping their hands like dead weights and then finally, pointedly turning to look at Nathan, as though he has all the answers.

Great. Nathan slightly winces. Right now he can't figure out how he could even possibly start to answer that question. He's been asking the same thing ever since he walked out of the café and he still hasn't decided on what his possible reasons could be for being here.

Because Lucas, the brother that he never knew, is dead.

Because he is desperate to do the right thing. For once.

"So you know Lucas, then?" Peyton mournfully asks them, cutting through his thoughts.

Well-fuck-what?

"Wait, you know Lucas?" Nathan asks, his eye brows rising.

Peyton frowns and nods her head. "Yeah, I do. How'd you know Lucas?"

"I well, I -" Nathan starts and then feels his blood growing cold at the sudden realization that he had never, not once told Peyton about Lucas. There was a brief mention of a half brother but never a name, never a face. But it's not like he carries around a picture of Lucas inside his wallet wherever he went. It's not like he wanted to discuss Lucas with his girlfriend. Actually, to be painfully, brutally honest, it's not like he and Peyton ever engaged in any sort of serious conversation at all, at least not outside of the 'are we breaking up or are we getting back together again' topic that they just seem to never get past.

If they were not arguing over Peyton's PMS-ing or Nathan's apparent, inherent assiness, they were making out or having sex. And when would it have been the right time to bring up the topic of an abandoned child who also happened to be his half brother?

"Oh, wow, Peyton, yeah, do that again, by the way, I have a half brother named Lucas, would you like to know more about him?"

Nathan immediately cringes at this. The inner workings of his relationship with Peyton had been: if they were both in a good mood, they made each other feel good; otherwise, they tend to agree to not see each other at all, unless they wanted another round of inane fighting. Or sex. These were pretty much the basic foundation of their year-long relationship.

"Nate?"

Nathan winces as he finds himself unable to answer Peyton. He is more than sufficiently guilty and painfully embarrassed by this rather blatant omission and he is suddenly curious if Lucas has ever told anyone about him. Had Lucas also decided to never mention the fact that there were two kids and two women and that his bastard of a father had chosen the other family? Had Lucas also chosen to deny the existence of a younger half brother? Had he been shamed to do it? Driven by anger and resentment? After all, hadn't Nathan felt all of those too? How different had it been for Lucas? Or maybe the question really is, how much do they actually have in common, him and Lucas?

"Well?" That familiar exasperated tone.

"Yes."

"No."

"Not really."

They all answer all at the same time, words overlapping each other. Peyton's frown deepen and Jake immediately starts clearing his throat and following suit, Tim starts coughing loudly. Nathan cannot help it, he winces one more time and shakes his head, trying his best to avoid Peyton's piercing stare.

"Well, kind of not really." Tim says after a few second of throat-clearing, coughing filled semi-silence.

And could this get any more awkward? Nathan thinks to himself, sucking in a deep breath.

Jake is quick to take control of the situation. "Could you guys excuse us for a sec?" He asks grabbing Tim by the arm. "I think I forgot something in the car." And he then proceeds to drag Tim away.

Peyton raises her eyebrows, crosses her arms against her chest. She looks back up at him again, her mouth twisting in that little frown. That familiar looking frown. And Nathan feels himself being suck back in time, where everything with Peyton was possible argument material, where he couldn't do anything right and he was bound to disappoint her one way or another. And really, with the kind of day he's having, he isn't surprised anymore why he actually stumbled upon her, today of all days. He waits for the accusation or the interrogation, whichever comes first. He's always been a very bad liar and Peyton just had a way of making him want to lie rather than tell her the truth and anyway, the truth had always been far, far worse than the lie.

Do you love me Nate? Did you ever really love me at all?

Lie: Of course I do! Of course I did!

Truth: I care about you Peyt, I do. Really. But... but that's all.

Part of the trouble was he kept on telling her that lie until it became somewhat of a truth to him. But then again, ask anyone, no lie is going to sound better than that awful, awful truth. Because Nathan knows now, as he had known before, of all the girls he had ever dated, he and Peyton did have some sort of a connection - at least they did at first - but whatever that might have led to, well, obviously, it went nowhere. And most of the blame admittedly was on him. He was just too damn full of himself and of his dreams to ever really appreciate the beauty of that possibility, of that what-might-have-been that he had so willingly, knowingly, carelessly tossed aside.

Nathan does not regret it now. He's gone past all that. He's just sorry with the way he had treated Peyton when they had been together. A lot of times, he wishes he could take it all back. They could've have been friends at the very least.

Peyton squints her eyes up at him and Nathan might not know it but she's also feeling a little bit sorry herself. Nathan probably didn't deserve a lot of the drama that she had put him - put them - through. She was young back then, confused about love. She had thought that maybe she loved him, was in love with him when the truth was she was in love with the idea of not even love but of desire, of need and of want. They had a lot of that in their relationship but nothing of the basic fundamentals of love. Like trust and patience and tenderness and maybe even friendship. She and Nathan had never been friends at all - even when they were dating. They were just that: dating. All the benefits, without the friendship.

Peyton tilts her head before gently shaking it, as though to clear it from cobwebs. She certainly hadn't expected to see Nathan, of all people, at Lucas' funeral and yet here he is now, in front of her and nothing had changed about him at all.

Well, Peyton reconsiders, at least not physically. Same startling baby blue eyes, same dark hair, a lot shorter now than before when he wore it long; infuriatingly almost past the collar of his shirts and always unruly. He is still so tall. And so beautiful. She might forget a lot of things about Nathan but never the fact that he's still the most beautiful boy - now a man - that she has ever met.

At first, when she saw him by the chapel door, she thought she had been hallucinating. Had been thinking too much about pain and regret and broken hearts that she had unconsciously conjured the image of the boy who used to best represent all those emotions. Peyton had thought that the wavering, watery image of Nathan standing by the tree, looking so lost and so... angry was the product of her tears, of her many sleepless nights, of her pain and confusion. Peyton had definitely thought that she was probably losing her mind, grief certainly had a way of doing that but when she called out to him and when he looked back at her as though she was an apparition herself, she knew that this Nathan was real.

Except... well, except, obviously, this isn't the old Nathan that she knew. There was something different about him now. Something that she could not quite pin point, describe. Something that eluded her.

But then again, hadn't Nathan always eluded her?

She could still remember all those misguided months of trying to make their relationship work and failing miserably at it. Up to this date, she still could not understand why it had taken her so long to finally admit that she and Nathan were just never meant to be. It must have been her pride and her damn stubborn streak and ok, yeah, he was a good (amazing, actually) kisser and when he wants to be, he could be a real nice, sweet, decent guy.

And therein lay the problem.

Nathan doesn't seem to want to be that kind of guy. At least not with her. And what was she supposed to do with that? She certainly wasn't going to let him treat her like crap. She had been willing to be patient, would tell herself that every time: Patience, Peyton, he just needs time to find himself, because she always knew that he could be so much better, so much kinder. But he just wouldn't shed that second skin and he was always more about being an arrogant jock that deserves to get all the attention. All the female attention. All the coaches' attention. The other players'. His own teammates'. His parents'. The local media. Sometimes, even the national press especially when he played so brilliantly during basketball finals. Everyone, except her it seemed.

The sad part is that their relationship had not always been like that, it just sort of deteriorated over time until all she could remember from her relationship with Nathan was a flimsy string of one night stands all thrown together. Or at least a lot of intense arguments that always lead to either a break up or more sex.

Attraction is a funny thing, especially when it's mistaken for love.

"So you kind of know Lucas." Peyton states, obviously this time, waiting for a reply, one that did not involve hand gestures.

"Yeah. Sort of." Nathan answers finally, evasively, rubbing his temples. He glances back at Tim and Jake who were hanging back a few steps away from them. He lets out a sigh and gestures them to come over. With any luck, Peyton might just think that they were stoned or drunk or both as they had been most of their college lives and hopefully, she'll just have to ask them to leave, which at this point Nathan is more than willing to do. He had tried to see his brother. He had done his duty. A little half-assed but still, it's more than what the old Nathan would have done.

"We kicked their ass, senior state championship." Tim blurts out as soon as he re-joins Nathan and Peyton. And then, seeing the horrified disbelieving expression on Jake's face, Tim stutters and chokes out an apology: "Oh, crap, crap, sorry...I'm sorry. I didn't mean that way. I meant, we just... kind of... scored better than them."

Nathan isn't sure if he's painfully amused or just in pain. He ducks his head, stares at the ground, at the tips of his worn out hundred dollar basketball shoes - a gift from Dan. One of his last gifts. Funny how these things seem to last longer than a person or a feeling for that matter.

Peyton finally lets out a chuckle of sorts and Nathan raises his head in time to watch her ruefully shake her blonde curls. "Basketball." She mumbles, "I should have known." She stares at Nathan and smiles her few rare smiles, "Well," she pauses as though deep in thought and then, gently she adds, "it's nice of you to come." She states this sincerely and Nathan is oddly touched by this.

"Peyton!" Someone calls and they all turn to look at a girl with dark hair wearing even darker sunglasses. She's wearing nothing but the color black. "C'mmon!" She tilts her head over to the moving procession of black cars all heading towards the cemetery.

Peyton clears her throat, "Okay, Brooke, just a sec." She mutters something, too low for Nathan to hear and he watches silently as she brings her hand to her face, slightly covering her eyes as she pauses to stare out into the horizon, biting her lips. She takes in a deep breath. "Everyone's heading at Karen's place after... after..." She seems to choke on the word and she gives up at trying to say it out loud, wincing a little. "You guys should come."

Another deep breath. Nathan notices her hand clasping and twisting in front of her. He catches the nervous glances that Tim and Jake were throwing at him. He's had enough tearful break ups to know what's coming next and yet he doesn't make a move. He stays in place, a good, safe distance away from Peyton's shaking form and he's feeling his stomach clenching almost painfully. It hasn't escaped his notice. The way Peyton is talking about Karen and Lucas. As though she knows them intimately and there is something disconcerting about that.

"Karen would appreciate it. I'm sure Lucas would too." Peyton tells them, her voice cracking at the last words, especially at Lucas' name. "He loved basketball and everyone who loved it." She smiles bravely, proudly. She swallows hard before continuing, "There's gonna be a couple of guys from his high school team, but it was all so sudden, we hadn't been able to get in touch with everyone." She explains, her voice suddenly sounding watery. "I... you... he..." And before they could even say anything, Peyton starts to cry. It's the quiet kind of crying, just bowed head and silence.

Tim and Jake grimaces. They were never really good at this. Trying to placate a crying two year old girl was Jake's only experience and he doubts if Peyton would feel any better if he starts dangling and jiggling his keys in front of her.

"Hey, now, don't cry." Tim says reaching into his pocket and finding a crumpled tissue paper from the café back in Tree Hill. "Here, here, take this." He says gently, offering the tissue which Peyton gratefully takes from him. She mumbles a thank you as both Tim and Jake stare at Nathan, obviously waiting for him to do something. After all, he is the ex-boyfriend and this is his brother's funeral.

Nathan isn't sure if he's supposed to hold her or just let her have her space. He wonders yet again what Peyton could be doing here and how she's connected to his half brother. It's a freakingly small world, he thinks, if you find your ex-girlfriend bawling her eyes out at your estranged dead half-brother's funeral. A very, very small world, he concludes uneasily.

Jake and Tim continue to stare at him and he feels their stares burning a hole right through his head. "Peyton," He starts, more out of guilt, half-heartedly reaching out to her. He isn't sure if he's still allowed to hold her and she might just pull away from her. Peyton was not the kind of girl who let anyone see her cry or even comfort her. This is something that he hadn't expected from her. But then, people change. It's as simple as that. Whether it's because of a death of father or a friend, people change in ways both understandable and unsettling.

"No, I'm okay. I'm okay." Her voice is muffled by her hands as she quickly wipes her eyes, carefully dabbing it with Tim's crumpled tissue. After a few more seconds, she straightens up, tilts her head to look at him and then, "Please come."

"No, it's ok." Nathan takes an almost panicked step back. It's been an emotional train wreck of a day and he isn't really looking forward to extending it up to Lucas's wake. And into Lucas's house as well.

"Please." Peyton begs, "His mom would appreciate it." She repeats in the same unfamiliar pleading voice. "She wants to hear all about Lucas from his friends."

Friends.

He isn't even that. And what would he tell Lucas' mom? That he's part of the reason why they had to move away from Tree Hill? Nathan takes a deep, painful breath.

"Peyt!"

She turns towards the girl, who is now impatiently tapping her foot on the ground. "I... Just a sec." Peyton tells her and then, glancing back at Nathan, "Don't leave."

They watch as Peyton went over to the girl in black, reaching out to her and clutching her hands. She's saying something and her friend obviously isn't liking it. More drama, the boys think as they watch the brunette stalk off. Peyton stands there for a full second, watching after the girl as she gets into a car and drives off. She comes over to them, biting her lips, her red-rimmed eyes still swimming with tears.

"I can't... I just can't." She explains brokenly to no one in particular and Nathan has a strange feeling that the words were more for her than for any one of them. She swallows hard, takes a deep breath. "Can I get a ride with you guys to Lucas' place?"

Nathan looks around and sees that there were still cars parked in front of the chapel. The old Nathan, the younger one, the one with all the bright dreams and future sitting at the palm of his hand would have told Peyton to get a ride from someone else. He has no reason to be at Lucas's wake and he didn't even intend to go there. There was nothing there for him but more regrets and he already has a baggage full of those. But as he returns his stare at Peyton and her green eyes and her tear stained face, Nathan thinks back on the day he first saw her, walking at the campus, her blonde hair shining and glowing. He remembers the way she always used to smirk at him when he says that he's going to love her forever, like she knew that it's nothing but an empty promise. Nathan thinks of how sad she looks now and how maybe, this could be his last and only chance of not being an ass to her.

And maybe, hopefully, if he finally faces up to this particular past - his father's past - that's been hounding him ever since he could remember, maybe he'd finally be rid of it. Be set free from it. So he takes a deep breath and wordlessly nods his head.

Nathan is almost thankful that Peyton had decided to skip going to the cemetery. He already knows what to expect there. More tears and flowers and sad, beautiful, empty words of goodbye. He tries to forget it, but it's stuck inside his head: the hollowed, final sound as clumps of dark soil hits the wooden coffin; the final thudding sound, almost like the last, fading heartbeat. It's echoing inside his head now as he drives silently, weaving in and out of unfamiliar streets until Peyton tells him to stop.

They park a few blocks away from a typical two-story home. It's nothing special. It isn't big, not at all like the palatial estate of the Scotts of Tree Hill but it certainly looks like a home well-lived in. There's a porch and a porch swing with a brown quilt draped over it, the curtains are pale green and fluttering gently from open windows. There's no space for a basketball court at the back or a swimming pool or even a mini-gym but it looks almost warm and inviting. The kind of place that Nathan had always thought a home should look like.

"Lotsa folks here." Jake observes, frowning when he realizes that this particular observation has been observed and noted more than enough times already and it's like he's comparing one utterly different funeral from another. It isn't right and he's suddenly wishing that he hadn't pointed it out Nathan. No wait, he wishes that he hadn't here to actually see it at all in the first place. Maybe Tim was right. Maybe he should not have given Nathan the newspaper. There's a history between the brothers far too deep and far too complex and death only messes everything that's already been messed up to begin with.

Peyton smiles wistfully. "Lucas was a great guy. Everyone loved him. C'mmon." She says, getting out of the car.

Nathan wordlessly follows her. It's not a quilt, he realizes as he got closer. It's a poncho. And an ugly assed one at that. The color is dark moss green and it looks as though it's a permanent fixture in the porch, like the coffee cup stains on the floor and on the wooden steps. Here is a house where people actually stayed in, had early morning or perhaps even late night conversations, a cup of coffee shared. He could see Karen and Lucas sitting by the porch: mother and son, alone together, abandoned by his father.

He thinks of his own mother who had, all his life, avoided their house. And even when Dan died, Deb still couldn't stand to stay inside her own home: Too big. Too silent. Too many memories. It makes her want to drink.

His mother has all the excuses in the world. It's ok though. Nathan is certainly used to it. When he was younger, his mother's way of dealing with Dan's obsession with control was to work as many hours and days and nights as she possibly can; the farther away from Tree Hill, the better. And when his father died, when his mom realized that she doesn't even recognize her own son anymore, the only way to deal with her grief was more mind numbing work.

Nathan doesn't blame her, doesn't resent her for it. She married Dan Scott. What did he expect? Besides, honestly, he thinks that throwing herself at work is better than drowning her sorrows with alcohol or sleeping through them.

He tells himself that every day.

Peyton starts to lead the way and is occasionally stopped as people offered more murmured words of condolences.

Tim, Nathan and Jake exchange looks.

"Bizarre-O." Tim mutters underneath his breath, loud enough for Nathan and Jake to hear. They both wordlessly, without warning, soundly thwack him at the back of head.

"Owww. What the hell?" Tim is immediately silenced as Nathan and Jake sends him their fiercest glare.

They all remain silent up until the front door, where Nathan pauses briefly before following Peyton in, squaring his shoulders as though preparing for a brutal game.

"He really is doing this." Tim says after a few seconds, watching as Nathan enters the house, his Duke sweatshirt swallowed by the black dresses and suits.

"I guess he really is." Jake confirms.

"I'm so proud of him." Tim says tearfully as he very gingerly place his hand on his chest, where his heart is, looking almost quite emotional. And demented.

Jake looks at him frowning, "Dude, you're weird." He gives Tim one last look before bounding up the stairs, looking for Nathan.

"Hey wait up!" Tim calls out loudly, apologizing as some of the people turned to look at him. "We played basketball together, Lucas and I did. I was from the other team and... yeah, okay." He mumbles away, ducking his head and going inside the house.

"Were you guys close?" Peyton is asking Nathan as they stood by the door.

Nathan shakes his head, shrugging. "No, just played a couple of games." He shifts from one foot to another, completely feeling so painfully out of place. He feels small. For the first time in his life, he feels small. Wishes that he is small. Or at least smaller. He wants to turn back and just forget about this day. He desperately wants to just disappear. Is everyone looking at him? At them? Or just Peyton? Why would they be looking at them?

Shit. He's getting paranoid. He swallows hard and takes in a deep, deep breath, filling his lungs with much needed air. He's barely stepped inside the house and yet he already feels the wrongness of being here. He does not belong here at all.

"He's a good player. Nice lay ups." Tim says from behind them.

"Tim," Jake interrupts before Tim says anything stupid, "You're thirsty right?"

Tim quickly gives Jake a 'what the hell are you talking about look'. "Huh?"

"The kitchen is down the hall, turn right." Peyton says nodding towards the hallway and for the second time that day Jake and Tim makes their exit. Peyton frowns and looks at Nathan. "I've always wanted to ask, you know, even when we were dating, I just didn't want to get your hackles raised..."

All the air that Nathan had just sucked in, rushes out in one painful breath. Nathan feels his heart thumping madly against his rib cage. "Yeah, what?"

Peyton twists her mouth in frown-smile. She pauses, uncertain and then in a cautious voice, she asks, "Is Tim, like, gay or something?"

Nathan almost laughs out loud, but he remembers where he is and why he is here, he sobers up a little and shakes his head no.

"Funny. He's got a bit of that vibe." Peyton murmurs, still looking quite doubtful.

"So, ugh, how do you know Lucas?" He forgot to ask her this.

Peyton looks up at him and it's her turn to blink. Her green eyes is even more startling green and Nathan realizes that it's because of her tears. "Lucas, he's my boyfriend." She tells him and then wincing, biting her lips, she corrects herself. "Was my boyfriend."

Nathan feels like he's been sucker punched. Like Peyton had kicked his whole world upside down, tipped it over, rolled it unto the edge and is now currently free falling into the Land of What the Fuck?

"We've been dating for almost a year now." Peyton continues, completely oblivious to his reaction. "We've been dating until... until he died."

Nathan numbly nods his head. Way beyond Bizarre-O now.

-tbc-