A/N: Wow, I got eight review notifications in my inbox after chapter six and I think that's an all time high for this story. You guys are great! It wouldn't be near as much fun writing without you, thanks so much! :-D

All That She Wants

Chapter Seven

The auto-rotating door spun as a nurse pushed an old man in a wheel with an oxygen tank into the hospital. At the same time, a young woman, probably in her mid twenties, was leading a sleepy young boy who looked Kindergarten age out the other side.

Nathan watched the door as he leaned against the outside of the hospital building with his cell phone to his ear. "Peyton, it's Nathan. I tried your cell like three times, but it just keeps redirecting me to your voicemail. I guess it must be dead. Anyway, Brooke's in the hospital again. She passed out just shortly after you left. I don't know what's going on, the doctors won't tell me anything…but I thought you'd want to be here. Give me a call when you get home."

His head thumped against the wall as he closed his cell phone. In stark contrast to his usually fearless, bad boy basketball star image, Nathan looked liked defeated. Under normal circumstances, he preferred to just not give a damn. But tonight, it had just been him and Brooke and he couldn't get her fateful scream out of his ears. It kept repeating over and over and over, like an alarm clock with a broken off button or the high pitched sound one hears when everything is silent and no matter how much you plug your ears, it just won't go away.

The blood had been the worst though. Sure he'd seen blood before: as a child, he sustained so many injuries that it didn't even faze him. But the sight of blood on someone else, much less a girl he knew and had spent years in the same circles with, it twisted his inner organs into a knot more complicated than a ball of tangled Christmas lights.

His feet fumbled across the pavement and into the auto-door. He briefly remembered as a child how he used to love those doors, going round and round in them like a game with his mother until Dan would angrily grab his arm and yank him inside of where ever they were originally headed. But as he walked through now, he wished for lead feet.

Nathan Scott was afraid to find that if he went back up to Brooke's room, he'd find out something horrible had happened to her and he honestly wasn't sure if he could take that. He'd lost great grandparents as a child, and various pets, and he'd even been to a funeral of a friend of his mother's when he was ten, but he had never lost a person his own age, that he'd known for years and even formed somewhat of a relationship…if it could really be called that.

He opted out of taking the elevator up to prolong his avoidance about getting to Brooke's room. It was on the second floor, so he walked, even using the excuse that it would be good exercise and that he might as well take advantage of it. As he pushed open the second floor door though, he felt a sinking feeling in his gut. It seemed to worsen each time he put his foot forward. He felt like some kind of soldier, marching front line into the biggest battle of his life.

Nathan paused in the hallway when he got to Brooke's room. The door was open, but the curtain was drawn around the room, so he couldn't see anything that was going on. He raised his hand to knock on the door when he heard the hushed sound of a male voice and he paused with his hand still raised.

"Ms. Davis?"

Nathan could hear Brooke groan; she had a distinct way of doing so, low and whiny and she almost sounded on the verge of drunkenness. The first time he'd heard, during the first party he'd went to with Peyton and Brooke right after he and Peyton had started going out, it had been such an odd sound that it'd actually made him start laughing. He distinctly remembered Peyton hitting him across the chest for it.

"Dr. Hanville?"

"Yes."

"Ugh…I feel terrible."

"Do you remember passing out?"

"No."

"What do you remember?"

"Uh…borrowing a water bottle from my friend."

Nathan tilted his head when he heard the soft sound of Brooke's breath hitching.

"What activities did you take part in today?"

"Uh, well…cheerleading. But-but nothing strenuous! I promise! It was just a little exercise, that's all. I mean, that's good, right? You should get exercise when-"

"What have you had to eat today?"

"Uh…Skittles and a muffin?"

"That's all?"

"Yeah, dinner and breakfast…do you know what's wrong with me?"

"It's difficult to say at the moment, we'll require a few tests to confirm, but I'm afraid you may have miscarried."

Nathan staggered. Miscarried? He shook his head. That can't be right, he's got to have the wrong information. Brooke-

"Nathan!"

He looked up to see Peyton running down the hallway, her mascara running and her face blotched. "Hey."

"What happened?" She ran into his arms, hugging him and crying.

It reminded him briefly of how they used to be, when they first started dating at the beginning of Freshman year…before the life of a rich high school basketball star kicked in. He reached one arm around Peyton's back and held it to her back. "She just collapsed," he explained. "She was-"

The curtain in the room pulled back and Dr. Hanville stepped out. He eyed the couple. "We'll be changing the nurses in fifteen minutes so visitors will have to leave for an hour while the new nurses are given patient updates, but until then you can see her if you'd like."

Peyton tore away from Nathan and dashed to Brooke's bedside, wiping her black smudged eyes with the sleeve of her leather jacket. "What the hell?" she asked, half laughing and half crying. "You better be okay!"

Nathan eased his way into the room, not moving too far past the doorway. He didn't want to have to say anything, but a part of him didn't want to leave either. He took note of Brooke's face: she too had been crying, the rivers of mascara made it obvious enough.

"I…I think I'm okay," Brooke muttered.

"Good." Peyton rubbed her eyes warily. "Because I'm going to kill you now!" She gently swatted Brooke's arm. "How the hell did you end up in the hospital again? What's going on with you? What'd the doctors say?"

Brooke stared down at the sheets covering her stomach. "I dunno."

"What do you mean you don't know? They have to tell you what's wrong with you, don't they?"

"They don't know yet," she amended. "They said they need to run more tests." She smiled weakly. "But as soon as I know…you'll know too, okay?"

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Peyton held up her fist as if she was holding a pom-pom. "Cheerleader's Honor?"

Brooke also held up her fist and punched knuckles with Peyton as if they were pounding together invisible pom-poms. "Cheerleader's Honor."