AN: I'm so bad at updating. I know I should do it more often but life just gets in the way sometimes. Thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter – I can see people are quite divided about all of the possibilities here. I guess we shall see where this goes.

As always, pretty please R.E.V.I.E.W xo

Thoughts Run Unspoken

"Pieces of memory fall to the ground."

Deryck Whibley

Chapter 9: Losing Your Memory

x~X~x

"Get OUT!"

His words reverberated over every inch of her body as she fell into the softness of the couch below, a harrowing echo that replayed itself over and over in her mind. A torturous, stabbing through her brain that connected to her throat and threatened to build more than one lump she could barely swallow down. She couldn't remember the drive home, nor the fussing of Brooke as she ran for the door to let Lucas carry his broken friend through the house and into the living room. She didn't know when the fire became lit or how the warm aroma of coffee began the filter through the majestic abode she called home.

Except without Nathan it barely felt like a house, let alone her home.

"Hales," Lucas breathed beside her, stripping away the wet coat that had somehow managed to find its way onto her body as she left the hospital. "Hales?"

She could hear him but for some reason her mouth couldn't connect to the words that raged through her fragile mind. The hate in his eyes and the sting of his words as he lashed them upon her – it was more than Haley could bear. She wished she could frown out the world if only for a moment, to hide inside her memories where everything was safe and everything was right – where Nathan still loved her and where he came home to her open arms and the nightmare of his kidnapping would be long over.

"Get OUT!"

"Ugh," Haley screamed unexpectedly, shocking her friends as she stood to her feet and darted through the room. She could hear Brooke calling out behind her, Lucas' voice not too far away as they both called out her name in vain.

"Haley!

"Hales!"

She darted up the stairs, the wood beneath her feet creaking as she ascended them two at a time, not willing to slow down. Bursting through their bedroom door and made a beeline for the wardrobe, her tiny hands furiously throwing themselves into the back of the cupboard where the boxes lay. She pulled them out vigorously and they fell to the floor, scattering objects across the creamy carpet as Lucas and Brooke pulled up behind her in quick succession.

"Hales?" Lucas called, Haley dropping the floor as she gazed upon the image before her. She darted through them furiously, each photograph a reminder of the life she knew they had together. Polished fingertips ravaged the images more furiously than her friends could see, searching – needing. The one image that could bring it all back lay before her. She knew that more strongly than anything she had felt her entire life. The one photograph of a moment in time that she was adamant her husband would remember.

"See?" she announced, holding the photo up to a worried Lucas, shaking it feverishly from side-to-side like a crazed woman. "This is when we went to Dan's beach house when we were supposed to be at school and we got drunk. My god, I was horribly sick."

Lucas nodded and went to open his mouth but she cut him off, insisting he see exactly what she could see. Once again determined fingers pointed at the photographs in her hand as if they were somehow the answer to every problem that lay before them.

"And here," she breathed, not allowing herself time to slow down, even for a second. "This is his smile when he actually passed his first test thanks to my tutoring. He had never done that before, you know? You two hated each other then. My god, how far we have all come."

Concern filled the features of Lucas' face as he gazed upon his friend, Brooke's eyes closing slowly in pain as they watched her. Slow breaths expelled from pained lips and the brunette turned to look at the brooding blonde beside her, Lucas' eyes mirroring the pain and concern they both felt in that moment. To see Haley like this, so out of control, and desperate was like somehow had taken the world and turned it on its axis, shaking about all the clarity and mixing up reality with fiction. Except this was not a fictitious novel that could have been put down the moment the story did not go the way they wanted it to. This was their life, for better or for worse.

And this was their friend, who needed them now more than ever.

"Hales," Lucas breathed, reaching out and placing his hand onto Haley's shoulder. She jerked away, shaking her head in disapproval as she reached for another photograph. She was in no mood for his rationality.

"And here," she breathed, holding the picture up for both of them to see. "We took this one inside my bedroom right after he came over to apologise for being an ass and do you know what he said to me?"

She turned and looked at Brooke, a tear forcing its way to her eye as Brooke looked down at her forlornly. "He said, 'I wanna be somebody who's good enough to be seen with you.' And I remember looking at him then and being so mad that he could get things so backwards. That he would think he would ever be anything other than good enough. I think I feel in love with him the minute he surprised me with that kiss."

A sob escaped her lips then, her fingertips tracing the curve of her lips where she could have sworn she still felt his pressed against her. As she held the photo in her hand, Lucas gazed over at Brooke with sadness, the brunette sinking to floor and enveloping Haley in her arms.

"He's going to come back to us," Brooke whispered, Haley's head falling into her shoulder as the tears fell more freely. Running her hand through her hair, they gently swayed as all of Haley's heartache, fear and anxiety spilled out between them. Brooke soothed her friend the best way she knew how – by vowing to fight.

"We're here," Brooke breathed, Lucas dropping to the floor beside them and reaching his hand around Brooke's shoulders, pulling both women into his embrace. "We're here and we're not going anywhere… and neither will Nathan. You'll see. He'll come back to us. He'll come back to you."

Then came the outpour. The fevered howls and the cracking shrieks of pain as Haley's heart snapped within the tiny confines of what was once her room with the husband she loved so dearly. Her bravery had been pushed to its limit and there was nothing left within her now – only the ache and pain of where her husband should have been. Haley cried and allowed her friends to comfort her, the pain of losing her husband all over again too much to battle. Grief washed over her and she allowed it, falling completely apart on the soft carpet inside her bedroom with the two people who perhaps knew her better than anyone else in the world and who would be there when Nathan opened his eyes again – and saw Haley for who she really was.

Where she would pray that the reflection that radiated from his cerulean orbs would finally recognise the woman standing before him.

His tutor.

His inspiration.

His wife.

x~X~x

"Are you sure that's what you want to do?"

Silky southern tones hit the afternoon breeze with melodic ease as honeyed locks swayed in the gentle breeze that crept across the cemented pathways and rustled the leaves of large oak that stood above them. Placing himself gently onto the worn bench below, Nathan nodded his head and slid his feet up onto the wheelchair before him, slightly laboured breaths expelling from his lips as he moved himself into a comfortable position.

"It's my home, Peyton."

"Actually, it' not," she countered quickly, folding her arms loosely across her chest as she leaned her back against the wooden bench behind her and gazed out at the courtyard of Tree Hill Hospital. There were few people around at this time of the day and for that she was thankful. It was hard enough escaping reporters and the flashes of cameras as people desperately searched for an update on the superstar player that had miraculously returned from a life of captivity and abduction. She could see why it was such a buzz-worthy story but discussing Nathan was not something anyone was willing to do.

Not when he was like this. He didn't even remember his life as a pro-basketballer so how the hell was he going to be able to face the truth that everyone knew but him?

"Don't start," he breathed, leaning back and closing his eyes as he wished her words away. "In my head, it's my home."

"And why are we trusting your head again?" Peyton replied, sarcasm dripping from every syllable as a small smirk came to the corner of her mouth. "Last time I checked, your decision making skills were not exactly of the highest calibre."

"I guess not," Nathan replied, opening his eyes slowly to turn and look at the blonde. A hand reached out and placed itself gently on top of Peyton's, the warmth of his thick fingers and palms spreading over the top of her tiny hand. He stopped when he felt the smoothness of the ring around her wedding finger, shaking his head again as if he still couldn't quite fix his brain to recognising what was clearly before him.

"I still can't believe you married that loser."

"You actually love that loser," Peyton replied, not willing to give an inch to his constant tirade against Lucas. It was like being back in high school all over again. "And so do I."

"Do you?" Nathan countered, turning slightly to look at her, "because from what I saw, the two of you don't seem to be in tune at all."

Her face faltered then, a tiny flickering of uncertainty in her eyes casting a shadow over her otherwise calm demeanour. She blinked softly and gazed out over the courtyard, a faraway look filling her eyes as Nathan tilted his head slightly in confusion.

"What? Are you going to tell me I'm wrong and that the two of you are completely in love?"

"No," she replied slowly, closing her eyes as she inhaled deeply. "I can't tell you that you're wrong because the truth is Nate, I don't even remember the last time Lucas and I were on the same page about anything."

Peyton closed her eyes and held them tight for a moment, images of her life flashing before her as she tried to make sense of it all. But what sense was there? For her entire life she had felt as though she and Lucas were one and the same. Two hearts living in one mind. That every decision they made had somehow led them to the very moment they stood at the altar and vowed for better or worse. For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health.

Forsaking all others.

"I would give anything," she breathed, a single tear falling across her porcelain cheek as she spoke, "to get Lucas and I back to where we belong. I would give anything for him to look at me again the way Haley looks at you."

Opening her yes, Peyton turned and faced Nathan head on, imploring him to try and see what was crystal clear to all of those around him.

"You promised her always and forever and I get that you may not remember that vow right now, but trust me Nathan, you meant every word. What the two of you have transcends what anyone I know has ever had."

Peyton sighed and look away, hastily wiping the tear away with the back of her hand.

"I wish Lucas and I could get back to that-"

"-I don't remember her, Peyton," Nathan breathed, sliding across from the bench and turning her face to meet his gaze. "I don't remember any of it. I only remember you."

"Nathan-"

"Just stop, okay?" Nathan growled now, the time for patient and sensible discussions now over. "Mom's coming to get me so I guess we better get back to my room."

And with that the conversation was over, Nathan barely looking at Peyton as she stood to her feet and pushed the wheelchair across, the basketballer sliding into the thick material that housed his tired and sore body and allowing the blonde to push him forward in silence, the sting of the afternoon chill hitting them both on the way.

x~X~x

"What are we going to do?"

Leaning against the edge of the doorway, emerald gems gazed with uncertainty at the sleeping mother draped across the bed that lay adorned with the scattered images of a life once lived, now seemingly lost. Baby blues quickly followed her gaze and mirrored her concern, Lucas letting out a long slow breath and his shoulders rose and fell with confused and indecisive shrug.

"I have no idea," he breathed, the weight of his fear and agony lacing every tone with their melancholic chime. "What can we do?"

"I just can't believe this," Brooke breathed, stepping forward and flicking the switch that threw the slumbering mother into a blanket of darkness. "We finally have him back but in so many ways we've lost him again."

Pulling Brooke into a one-armed hug, he gently eased them both out the door and slowly closed it behind him, willing for his best friend to get some decent rest. It had evaded her since the day Nathan had gone missing and although he doubted she would be able to sleep much, he would do his utmost to get her as much as her body would allow. Traipsing down the hallway and downstairs to the living room, Brooke slid onto the couch and closed her eyes, her body going limp as the fatigue set in. It had been a while since Lucas had checked in with her but he could see the strain that life had been placing on her. Walking to sit on the recliner in front of her, she opened her eyes and gazed at him, a small knowing smile flickering between them.

"You okay, Luke?" Brooke breathed, tired eyes flickering open and shut as if to fight off the sleep that wanted to overpower her.

"I should be asking you that," the young writer acknowledged, tilting his head slightly to look down upon her with questioning eyes. "You haven't said a word about Julian."

At the mention of his name Brooke's closed her eyes again, thin lips pursing as if trying to hold back the thoughts that threatened to spill forth from them. It was a reaction that Lucas knew well and he wasn't about to let her down in the way that he felt he had been letting Haley down.

"Brooke?"

Heavy eyelids fluttered open again but she wouldn't look at him, instead gazing across at the photos that littered the mantelpiece above the fireplace.

"He's gone," she breathed, refusing to look at Lucas as she spoke. Her voice had become strained, almost as if she was trying to combat anger and sadness and frustration all in one go. Letting out a low, long breath she turned and looked at him, Lucas' eyes imploring her to trust him enough with whatever it as that was weighing down on her so heavily.

"Gone?"

"Court-appointed rehab. I went to see him at the hospital and the nurse let me know."

Aghast, Lucas' eyes widened, a scoff of disbelief falling from his lips as he looked at her. Brooke shrugged, chocolate tresses gliding over her shoulders as she shook her head from side to side in defeat.

"He didn't even tell you?"

"He doesn't even want me, Lucas. I'm fighting for a marriage that he doesn't want anymore."

Standing up from his chair, Lucas strode across the carpet and sat directly beside his friend, pulling her into his arms and allowing her cheek to fall to his shoulder.

"He's angry at him and at the world, but he's not angry at you, Brooke."

"Really?" she questioned, Lucas looking at her with a face that was about to argue his point when she got to her feet and strode across the living room to her purse that lay on the dining room table. Fishing through her bag she pulled out an envelope, walking back towards Lucas as she pulled at the contents within.

"He seems pretty mad to me."

Dropping the crisp, white files to the table before him, Lucas leaned forward as cerulean orbs widened in disbelief, the large, thick header splashing across his vision as he read the words he never expected to see.

Petition for Divorce.

x~X~x

"Dinner time, sunshine. Better get in line while it's warm."

Without saying a word, Julian lifted himself from the tiny, single-person bed that had housed him for most of the day and slid his feet to the soft carpet beneath. Flickers of peach and gold leaves spilled across the sapphire-coloured softness below, contrasted only by the thick Maplewood blinds that had closed away the sunlight for most of the day. In the corner sat his now empty suitcase, a tag with his name attached as his clothes had been neatly placed into the single cupboard and dresser that sat within the corner of the room. By all standards the room was a lot nicer than the hospital had been and the hope was that the trend would continue further still when he sat down to eat, but Julian had little care nor interest in what was awaiting him.

All he could feel was the burning rage and bubbling sorrow that etched away at his insides, spreading through him like a plague.

He just wanted release from it all.

He just wanted a drink.

Grabbing at his hands he stepped out of his room and into the corridor, eyes looking upon him as the faces of strangers passed by with eyes of curiosity or complete disinterest. Sliding into the brightly lit dining area, chatter surrounded him and he made his way into the line, reaching out for the closest plate in the hopes that he could just get this whole thing over with and head straight back to bed.

"You don't want to eat that."

Turning at the sound of the stranger's voice behind him, Julian arched his eyebrows as a young woman stepped forward, eying the suspicious plate of chicken and cream sauce before bring her gaze back to meet his.

"It taste like a cat died in your mouth. I would know, believe me."

Sliding past him and reaching for the pasta instead, the young woman made her way towards the salad before briskly stepping out of the line and around everyone, grabbing a bottle of clear water and making her way into the dining hall. As the line behind him began to shuffle around him, Julian reached for the same plate pf pasta and grabbed a soda, making his way through the crowd and following her trail to the table. He looked at her expectantly as she pulled the fork from her mouth, pointing in the direction of the chair before her without saying a word. For a moment Julian simply sat there, gazing between his food and the scattered bodies of people who chatted to one-another like they were in a cafeteria back in high school.

"So what's your poison?"

Startled from his thoughts, Julian gazed at the woman in confusion, her slender arm dropping to the table and holding the fork over her plate as she looked at him.

"Your poison? The reason you're in here."

Recognition hit his features then and he sighed, picking up the fork and playing with his food and he ladled up and forkful.

"Court appointed."

"It still counts."

"Alcohol."

It was the first time he had said the word out loud and hadn't felt the need to throw something, or hit something or just scream abuse at the top of his lungs. Maybe it was because he had finally accepted his fate and that he needed help. Although deep down he knew it was mostly because he was in the he'll and the inhabitants didn't give a crap about why he as there.

They had their own problems to deal with.

Yet, she was looking at him like she might be somewhat interested and since she had saved him from an awful culinary fate he felt slightly obliged to return the favour, after all, ninety days was an awfully long time.

"How about you?"

She took another mouthful and reached for her water, chugging a few gulps before sliding the bottle onto the table and looking up at him.

"Cocaine is my weapon of choice, actually."

Julian mulled over her interesting choice of words, leaning back in his chair and gazing her over. As id able to hear his thoughts she brought her attention back to him, a perfectly arched eyebrow imploring him to either look away, ask a question or get lost.

"Weapon of choice?"

"What would you call it?" She finished up her plate and reached for her water again, throwing down more than she had the first time and looking like she could still use more. "A weapon hurts people, right? So the way I see it, cocaine is basically the gun I hold up to myself every time I get high."

"I don't drink to hurt myself-"

"-Of course you don't" she replied, a smile plastering her lips and causing him to seethe a little, partly because she had cut him off but also because her grin implied that he was a liar and he didn't like having his words questioned. "We never mean to hurt ourselves, it just seems to happen, doesn't it? Just like we just seem to hurt the people around us and claim not to know why".

"You don't know anything about me."

"I don't need to," she replied, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly as the word spilled forth likes gospels of wisdom and truth. "There's nothing unique about you in here. We're all fighting our own demons in our own ways.

Standing to her feet, the young lady reached for her plate and bottle, Julian standing to his feet as she did so. His move surprised her but she acknowledged it, reaching forth with her free hand and extending an introduction.

"Rachel," she breathed, thick auburn locks falling over her grey sweater as skin tight jeans clung onto her svelte legs with determination. Tiny fingers encircled a thick hand as they shook. "Good luck in here."

"Julian," he replied, letting her hand go as she watched him. "And I guess thanks for the head's up about the chicken?"

Rachel nodded and turned on her heels, signalling a soft salute before grabbing her belongings and making her way across the now busy cafeteria. He watched her go, sliding back into his seat and looking down upon the food before him, thick hands reaching and grabbing a forkful before plunging it into his mouth and allowing his mind to disappear into the mindless chatter that enveloped him.

As always, please review.

Chrissy

xo