"Oh my God…" she breathes again.

The sight of it leaves her cold, like a bucket of ice has been poured over her heart. She can't imagine what it's like for him.

"Nathan…"

From the tone of her voice, it's not good at all.

"How bad is it?"

She doesn't answer.

"How bad is it, Hales?"

"I…"

She can't even say it, feeling ill as she looks at the patch of dampness on his hoodie. Blood.

The rock isn't any bigger than the size of her fist but it has penetrated through his shirt, through his skin, hanging off his side, like a fork forgotten on a piece of cake. It's flat, sharp jagged edge is embedded, the thicker side of it sticking out like a sore thumb.

Was it just facing upwards waiting for someone to fall onto it? Did it plan this? Who put it up to this? Mother Nature?

He reaches out to touch her fingers, intertwining them with his.

"How bad?"

"S-stuck…"

Her voice is quivering as she tries to come to grips to what she's seeing.

"Baby, I'll need you to get it out. I can't walk with it sticking out of my side," he jokes.

Removing it is the only option. They need to get to a safer place, and that rock will just slow them down.

"W-what?" she whispers in shock. What is he asking of her?

"I need you to pull it out," he says calmly.

She pulls her hand away from his. "No."

"I—"

"No. No. That could make it worse."

"I can't breathe," he says hoarsely.

She leans forward, her entire body shaking. "Nathan…"

"I…I need you to pull it out, Hales."

She shakes her head again, crying. It's like he's just asked her to shoot him point blank.

"Yes." He takes her hand. "Please. It's the only way."

He feels her tense up when he holds it over the injury.

"N-Nathan…"

"Haley," he pleads. "I need to breathe."

Trembling, she places one hand on the rock, wrapping the other over it. What is she doing?

"No! No! I can't!"

"I could die if you don't."

"You could die if I do! Oh my God…Please don't…"

"I'll be okay, Hales. A lifetime, remember? I want to be here for that."

She nods, whimpering, holding the abomination with shaky fingers. She wants a lifetime with him, too.

"On three, okay?"

"Wait!"

She leans over him, her face a few inches from his. "I love you."

She kisses him desperately, holding her lips to his, drawing strength from the contact.

He understands.

"I love you, too," he responds, smiling faintly.

His voice seems to break with emotion.

She kisses him again, and then she sits up, flexing her fingers on the rock.

"On three?" she says, composed.

She's terrified to the core but he needs her to do this for him.

"On three. One…two…three…"

He yells as she tears it out of his flesh. It was really lodged in there.

"Nathan!" she screams.

"Don't stop!"

She finally gets it out, throwing it as far as she can. He breathes in and out, his lungs relieved of the pressure from holding his breath.

"Th-thank you."

She puts her arms around him, crying. How could she do that to him?

"I'm so s-sorry…" she sobs in his chest.


He makes a motion to get up after she's bandaged the wound. "We can go now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Once we get to the clearing, we can rest."

She pushes down her panicky thoughts. He's right. They can't sleep here.

"Fine. But lean on me."

He shakes his pounding head slightly.

"Nathan, you either lean on me or we don't go at all," she says reasonably and fiercely as she stands up.

If she lets him hold himself up, he could fall. He could really hurt himself and she's not willing to risk it.

He knows better than to argue with her about it. "Fine."

She assists him as he struggles to stand. He feels a rush of dizziness, blinking it away as he puts an arm over her shoulders. Her arm snakes out to reach around his waist, below the injury, which is sitting right on his ribcage.

She's scared that he could have broken ribs. Or that the rock pierced something else.

She swallows down the ache in her heart.

"Are you leaning on me?"

She feels weightless.

"Yes."

"Nathan…"

"I'm heavier than you, Hales."

He clutches at his side, trying to apply pressure to the wound. He can feel it bleeding. Not profusely, but still bleeding.

"Don't."

She seems to pull him onto her, making him relax against her.

"There. Better," she says triumphantly.

Her small frame makes him underestimate her strength. It's like he's forgotten she's helped him move the couch before.

"You're bossy," he says with a trace of humour, burying his face between her neck and shoulder.

His head swims and whirls with that simple motion. Rising to his full height, he eases some of his weight off of her.

As he does so, she sighs wearily. "Nathan…"

"I'm fine. I promise."

She doesn't believe him. He doesn't believe it, either.


"Your blog followers will have a field day with this," he tiredly says in an easy, yet strained tone.

"Peyton, you mean?" she adds lightly.

They are walking down yet another path, slowly but surely.

He can breathe, but every step takes effort. He's sweating and winded. The breeze seems to be whistling cold air into his wound, making him feverish.

"I'm not sure I'll write about it," she says, rubbing his back in an effort to ease the wheezing.

"Why not? It's an adventure story to tell."

"It wasn't—" She breaks off, pressing closer to him. "It wasn't meant to be like this."

He doesn't question it.

"Maybe not now but when it's better, you can write about it."

She nods, turning to look straight ahead of them. "God, babe, it's been such a long day."

"Tell me about it. Think you'll find my scar cool?"

She laughs softly at his jest, afraid she may just start crying. "You mean you get to be cooler?"

He stops for a moment, looking into her eyes.

"What is it?" she asks, her heart thumping.

Smoothing strands of hair away from her face, he bends down to kiss her lips gently.

A swift gust of wind makes them both shudder. Even with the bandage, it seems to have sliced open his wound a little more because he feels the effect.

He coughs, a troublesome cough that makes the violent aching in his side to intensify.

She's not oblivious to the spasm of pain on his pale face. They need to rest soon. The walking isn't good for him.

He nods slowly, suppressing a cough. "I'm okay."

His teeth are clenched tight, and his body feels strained.

She looks away, her throat dry and on fire at seeing him like that. She then notices their surroundings.

"I th-think this is it."

It's a clearing that they haven't seen before.

"You did good, babe," he smiles feebly.

Blinking back the tears that are blurring her vision, she asks, "Can we rest here?"

She's been stumbling and if they don't take a break, she's afraid she might tip them both over. It would be disastrous if both of them were incapacitated.

"Yeah."

The small clearing has enough trees to provide protection from too much wind. Hopefully, it's not some animal's sleeping area.

She helps him ease the bag off his back, telling him to take it easy as he sits. He recoils as he sinks to the ground, the pain at his side so hot like it's housing a fiery blade.

Following suit, she collapses on the ground beside him and lying on her back, she stares out at the clear night. It would be perfect if they were on a date instead of looking over their shoulder whenever bushes stir.

When she hears him wheeze, she closes her eyes at the sound. It breaks her heart to hear him in so much agony.

"Hales?"

She doesn't answer immediately, preoccupied with thoughts of him dying too soon and leaving her half-dead in this broken world.

He can sense her withdrawal, but what he needs to say has to be said.

"Haley?" he calls again.

"Hm?" she answers distractedly.

"I have a confession."

She turns her head at the tone of his voice. "What is it?"

He rethinks it for a fleeting second, knowing that she'll be quite furious with him.

"I forgot the matches."

There. He said it.

She sits up so fast that it startles him. "You. What."

"I thought I had them when we left but it turned out I didn't. I wanted to buy a box in one of the stores on our way here but I kind of forgot…"

She stands up, looking so inexpressive the entire time he is explaining himself.

Watching him babble on about his forgetfulness makes her so angry that she clenches her fists. It's like something is bubbling inside her, right from the tips of her toes to the tips of her fingers.

The gravity of what he just said kicks in.

"You forgot? You kind of forgot!? You remembered to buy condoms but not matches!?"

"Babe—"

She points an unsteady finger at him to shut him up, pacing the uneven ground.

"Don't 'babe' me, Nathan! I asked you if you had matches! I asked you! It's dark, it's cold and you're hurt and if something happens to you tonight because you're not warm…"

She chokes on a sob, slumping back down on the hard ground. Pulling at the sleeves of her hoodie, she draws her jean-clad legs to her chest, rocking back and forth.

It starts as a sniffle but soon escalates to crying. Hot tears run down her cheeks; tears of terror, despair and every negative thing imaginable in such a situation. He could die.

She doesn't hear him reach for her. She only feels him wrap his arms around her as she weeps.

"I'm really sorry, Hales…"

She only cries harder.

"Oh, God…y-you could d—"

She can't bring herself to say it.

He strokes her hair and kisses her temple. "I'm not going to die, Hales."

She clutches his shirt. "We…we had a lifetime planned together, Nathan…"

"We still do. I promise we'll get out of here. I promise."

He holds her tighter, stroking her hair. "I know I'm pretty useless right now but we'll figure it out, okay?"

"This is too soon. T-till death do us part. T-too soon," she says, shaking her head as if speaking to herself.

He just holds her, murmuring words of comfort, letting her cry it out.

"I have a confession," she snivels after she's done crying, looking up at him.

"Did you forget something, too?"

He's trying to make light of such a horrible situation but he's failing miserably from the steely look on her face.

"What is it?"

She looks away shyly and mumbles something about stalls.

"What?"

"I was stalling."

"Why?" he asks instead of gloating.

She sniffles again. "Nature is scary. I just thought we'd prolong our trip here and then get it over with and then go home but then I saw the waterfall and I forgot all about my fears and suggested we walk a little more and now here we are, lost and scared, you're bleeding and I—"

With this, she breaks out in another flood of tears.


"I'm really sorry," he says quietly in the darkness.

They are stretched out on the grass, their backpacks serving as pillows, wrapped up in each other's arms like they do at home. They're covered in the soft blanket that was a gift from Whitey on their 'after-wedding' party. Haley packed it today in hopes that they would use it for a picnic somewhere on the trail.

"I'm sorry for bringing you here."

She wants to cry at his apologetic tone but she refuses to cry. He needs a partner, not a crybaby. Especially now.

"Don't be. I know it didn't seem like it this morning but I'm glad I came."

She presses a kiss on his jaw. "Besides, now I know who I'd rather be stuck with in the forest."

He half-laughs half-coughs.

"I'm sorry, too," she says, teary-eyed.

"What for?"

"Getting us off the trail. F-for you being like this."

He kisses her hair and she nestles closer to him, careful not to touch him where it hurts. "It's not your fault. And you know, someday we'll be laughing about this over mimosas in Miami."

The shallow breathing is helping with the pain. He feels like his entire body is ablaze, yet dipped in ice at the same time.

She chuckles softly, raising her head to look at him. "Miami? We're moving to Miami?"

"When we retire, yeah."

"We're not even in college, sweetie."

"I have big dreams for us."

"Do they include a ski lodge in Colorado? I've always wanted to learn how to ski."

"We can get that, too."

He'd buy her the moon if he could. When they're out of here, he'll name a star after her.

"Why Miami?" she asks.

"Dan isn't there."

Miami is a place far, far away from Tree Hill. They can get lost there if they want. They can shake themselves loose from Dan Scott's cold, iron shackles.

"Okay."

She would do anything for him, even move to the jungle if it means that he's completely free and happy.

"We'll get a condo and blow all our money on crack and weed and not leave our kids anything."

She laughs out loud. He kisses the side of her face tenderly, his lips lingering a while on her salty, vanilla-scented skin.

"Someday, Hales."

Kissing his Adam's apple, she buries her head in the crook of his neck. "Someday, Nathan."

It's always been easy for them to talk. They're each other's best friend and confidant, the first person the other wants to call when anything good or bad happens.

He texts her during the day about silly things and she doesn't dismiss it. Like how he's just noticed his locker is in two different shades of blue on both sides.

She, too, texts him about silly things. Like the guy at the café who has been working on one Sudoku puzzle all morning, ordering cup after cup of coffee, and that she's tempted to rip it off his hands and complete it herself.

People may think that they were crazy fools for getting married so young, that they were too young to know their hearts, but they don't care. They're happy. Crazy, happy fools.

"I want you to know that I don't take advantage of you. I want you to know that I've never regretted meeting you or marrying you," she says out of the blue.

"It's not the end of us, Hales."

She doesn't mean to but she just wants him to know.

Gulping, she nods against his chest. "I…I just want you to know."

He tries to pull her closer but his strength is seemingly gone.

"I'm not leaving you," he says breathily.

His eyes are suddenly fluttering, with sleep or something else, he doesn't know.

He's breathless and the wheezing has increased.

At this, she looks up at him. She's only seeing the whites of his eyes, his eyelids flickering speedily open and shut.

She places her hand on his cheek, her heart beating wildly.

"Nathan?"

He's wheezing harshly, and she swallows hard as she watches him drift in and out of it.

She pulls the blanket and tucks it under his chin, her hand underneath the blanket rubbing his chest. All she can do is grit her teeth to keep the tears at bay, and rub his chest.

"I'm not leaving you," she whispers into the chilly silence.

Please come back to me, she pleads silently.