A/N: I've got a busy couple of days ahead of me, so this is it for a day or two at least. So this is just after the accident. The next installment is going to pick up back in Tree Hill just before the opening of Season 5. It might be the last chapter, not sure. Sorry this one was written quickly, but I wanted to get it done before I left. Please r/r, :)

Summer Interlude/New York

5 Doctors stood across from Haley and Lucas. They'd explained who they were; the neurologist, trauma surgeon, thoracic surgeon, plastic surgeon, and the orthopedic specialist. In the hysteria of Haley's mind, all she could think was - Huey, Dewey, Louie, Stewie, and… that other guy.

"Explain again, please," Luke prompted.

Gerry sat on the edge of a chair and took notes in his Blackberry.

"Mr. Scott was impaled by 8 pieces of glass. 6 of these did no significant injury, and the plastic surgeon was able to carefully repair the damage once they were removed. The 7th piece entered here," the surgeon indicated on his side.

"Between ribs," Luke remembered from the first time they'd run through it.

"Yes," the doctor nodded. "There's an mammery artery in this region that was lacerated by the glass, causing a buildup of the blood in the pleural cavity, the area that holds the lungs."

Haley began shaking again, and Lucas wrapped his arm around her.

"This caused quite a bit of blood loss, but we were able to stop the bleeding and drain the hemorrhage. We're giving him oxygen and are monitoring his lung efficiency, but so far it looks good. We'll watch for possible clots or infection. As an athlete, we know Mr. Scott's pulmonary functions are critical and the thoracic specialists will work with him now and throughout the recovery period."

"So there should be no long-term damage," Gerry demanded.

"Best case scenario," the doctor agreed.

"OK…" Haley prompted, licking her lips.

"The 8th shard entered here," the orthopedist pointed at the back of one of his colleagues.

"I don't understand…did it break his back?"

"No, Mrs. Scott. Your husband is a very lucky man. The best way to explain is that it touched the spinal column," he demonstrated by pushing his finger onto his palm. "Causing a sudden, intense pressure on his spinal cord at this area," he had brought a diagram and pointed to it.

"The result is something we call Brown-Séquard paralysis, or BSS."

"And it's not permanent?" Gerry asked, just as Lucas was opening his mouth to do so.

"Well, we'll know more after he wakes up. We've removed the glass, which was the cause of the pressure. 90 of patients with BSS are able to walk again, and most regain much – if not all – of their mobility with physical therapy."

"So he could play basketball again?" Gerry wondered.

"Oh, certainly."

"When?"

"That's hard to say," the doctor sighed. "The majority of his motor skills should return within, say, two to three months. But the overall recovery time often runs about two years."

"Years?" Gerry repeated softly.

"Mr. Scott's athleticism almost certainly saved his life tonight, and will go a long way towards his level of recovery," the doctor added.

"You'll all be at the press conference?" Gerry asked.

"That is our plan," the doctor sought Haley's eyes and she met his stare.

"It's fine," Lucas said.

"When can we see him?"

"He's being moved to a room in critical care, so we can monitor his recovery. You'll be allowed in there, one at a time, as soon as he's settled. We expect he'll be there about 48 hours, maybe more, before we transfer him to a regular room."

"It is a sterile room, so there will be precautions," another doctor added.

"OK," Haley breathed.

"I'm going to go with the docs to the press room," Gerry told Lucas and Haley.

They nodded, barely registering. The doctors filed out of the room with Gerry in tow, closing the door behind them.

In the stillness after, Haley suddenly pulled away from Lucas with a snarl.

"What? What is it?"

"I left you to watch over him!" She cried. "You're the older brother, Luke!"

"By a few months!" He stood. "Don't. Don't do this, Haley."

"He was fine. He was happy. He was about to be drafted by Seattle…" she sobbed. "All his dreams were coming true and you were right there, on the couch next to him. How the hell could you let this happen?!"

Lucas tried to reach out to her, but she waved him away. "He's paralyzed! He almost drowned in his own blood! Where were you, Lucas? WHERE WERE YOU?!"

"I COULDN'T STOP HIM!!" Lucas finally yelled back.

"Momma? Uncle Lucas?" Jamie sat up on the couch, and Haley raced to him. She gathered her son up into her arms, shooting Luke a murderous look over the top of her son's head. "I'm sorry baby, did we wake you up? I'm sorry," she rocked him close, fighting her own tears.

"Where's Daddy?"

"The doctors just came and told us that they've fixed him all up," Luke squatted down to talk to his nephew face to face. "He's gonna look pretty scary for a while, but he's gonna be all right, little buddy. I promise."

"OK," Jamie said bravely, clutching his mother's hand.

She smoothed his wild hair, and caught Lucas' eye. "I…" she deflated.

"Yeah," he put a hand on her knee and squeezed it gently. "Me, too."

A soft knock at the door straightened the three up quickly. "It's me again," the man announced, entering. "Hello Mrs. Scott, Mr. Scott, and young Mr. Scott," He smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Jed Lewis. It's my job to make sure you've got what you need here."

Jamie shook his hand solemnly. "I need…my dad," he told Jed.

"Ah, then you've come to the right place," Jed answered. "Because once we take care of a couple of things, it will be time for you to go see him. When they buzz me," he slipped a pager from his pocket and showed it to Jamie. "We'll go right to him. Now, at first, they're going to ask you to look at him through the glass."

"Like Chester?" Jamie puzzled.

"Rabbit," Lucas explained.

"Uh…OK, yes," Jed rolled with it. "And then, in a day or two, you'll be able to get as close as you want – OK?"

Jamie's lips clamped together. He clearly wasn't happy with things, but he nodded – once, slowly.

"What things? More paperwork…"

"No," Jed turned to Haley. "That's all fine. First of all, I want to give you these, he held out a tiny envelope that held a pair of plastic passkeys. "The keys to your room here at McKeen Pavillion."

"This is our room?"

"Yes, just steps away from where your brother will be recuperating once he's released from Recovery. The number is on the back."

"A hotel in a hospital," Haley shook her head. "New York is an interesting place."

"Makes sense," Lucas shrugged. "I can call over to the Westin and have our things moved…"

Haley nodded absently, digging through her bag and handing Luke the extra cell phone.

"Anything else?" Haley asked.

"Just your visitors," Jed told her.

"Visitors?" Luke's forehead furrowed in confusion.

"The ones from your list, Mr. Scott."

"Which ones from the list," he asked, standing.

"I would almost have to say…all of them, sir," Jed stepped back to the door and pulled it open, motioning the hallway.

One by one, they trouped into the room. The first through the door was Deb, who raced to Haley and Jamie. She wrapped them in her arms, as Haley assured her "He's going to be all right," over and over.

The Coach and several of the players walked in, bumping fists with Luke and nodding their respects at Haley and Jamie. Skillz followed, with Mouth in his wake.

"We got the first flight," Skillz pulled Luke close in a quick hug. "And nobody was saying nothing on the news about our boy."

"He's in recovery," Luke told him. "They say he's going to be fine, but he'll need rehab."

Lindsey tried to slip into the room unobtrusively but Lucas held out his hand to her and she flew into his arms. He clutched her close, breathing in the scent of her shampoo.

An orderly arrived with a massive basket. "I think that should go to their…"

"Instructions were specific, Mr. Lewis," the orderly argued.

Haley took the card. "It's from Brooke," she explained to Luke with a half-smile. "She's in Paris, will be here as soon as…"

Luke nodded. "It's all food," Deb noted, scrutinizing the massive offering. The three exchanged a private smile.

"We do have an excellent dining…oh," Jed interrupted himself, tugging the pager from his pocket. "It's time. Just the three of you to start, OK?"

"Right," Lucas held out his arms and Jamie jumped into them.

"We have to get over to the draft," one of the players hugged Haley and she kissed his cheek. "But we'll be praying to Jesus that He watch over y'all," he told her.

The other players nodded.

"Anything you need, Haley," the Coach assured her.

Mouth sat down next to Deb and gave her a compassionate look.

"We'll be here, Dawg," Skillz assured Luke and Haley.

Jed held the door for the small family and they exited. With a hiss, the door closed and silence fell in the room.

….

Royal and Mae kept the little TV in the kitchen tuned to ESPN. Neither was drinking their coffee.

The phone rang. Mae jumped and raced to it. When Royal saw the Caller ID, he slammed his hand down on the receiver and held it there.

"But…" Mae turned to him, half-angry and half-frustrated.

"No," Royal ordered. "You will not answer that call, Mae."

"Royal, our grandson is in the hospital! He has a right…"

"No!!" Royal barked.

Mae took a step back, her lips pinching in disagreement. "Royal…" she argued.

The phone stopped ringing, and they both took a deep breath.

"He's the boy's father," she said.

"He killed our son," he reminded her.

"He's our son, too," she sighed.

"No. No, he's not," his voice raised in warning.

The phone rang again, and Royal slapped his hand over it again as they peered at the Caller ID. "That's him," Mae said, recognizing the number.

"You're sure?" his voice a little gruff.

"I'm sure."

He picked the phone off the receiver and answered it carefully. "Hello?"

"Royal, it's Lucas," he said clearly.

"I'm glad it's you, son. How's Nathan?"

….

The phone on the bedside table vibrated and Peyton rolled over in bed to answer it.

"Talk to me," she pleaded.

"He's out of surgery," Brooke told her. "He's gonna live, Peyton. He's going to be fine."

….

Whitey climbed the hill with a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. When he reached the grave, he laid them down carefully.

"He's going to be all right," he told his wife, his eyes moist with relief.

….

Karen looked up from her laptop and smiled at Andy, who was rocking a sleeping Lily.

"He's recovering from surgery. The doctors say it's a miracle he wasn't permanently paralyzed – or killed. And now he may be back to playing basketball by Christmas."

"Thank God," Andy breathed. "How's Lucas?"

She shook her head. "I can't tell from this," she admitted. "He's too good a writer to show what he doesn't want me to know."

"So it's bad," Andy guessed.

"I wonder if we should…"

"Why don't we head to the coast, and catch a flight?" he suggested.

"Maybe…" she nodded. "I don't know yet if that will be a help. He's got Lindsey with him, but Haley…she must be a wreck."

"I'll tell the captain to head that way, just in case."

….

It was early afternoon when the Sonics made their draft pick. The name they called was not Nathan's. Lucas dropped his head. It had been a foregone conclusion, but there had been that small glimmer of hope in the back of his mind.

He glanced over at the sterile room where Haley sat watch on her husband. They'd begun dialing back the medication to wake Nathan up and she was determined to be the first thing he saw.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he wondered idly when the last time he'd eaten was.

Then he saw his brother's eyes flicker.

"Nathan?" Haley sat up straighter and put herself in his line of sight. The nurses and the doctor moved to the other side of the bed.

"Nathan? Can you hear me?" she asked.

He blinked.

"Welcome back," she smiled. "You've had quite a day."

He blinked again.

"Nathan, can you say something? I'm right here. And Jamie. And Lucas. Right here, Nathan. Always…" she prompted.

His tongue darted out and licked his lips. She waited.

"It's over, isn't it," he asked roughly. And then he closed his eyes again, a small tear leaking from the corner of his eye.

"Oh, Nathan…no. No, you're going to be fine," she promised. "Just talk to me. Come back, Nathan."

But he wouldn't say another word. Her agony reflected on her face, she looked over at Lucas. He lifted his hand and pressed it against the glass window, reaching to her.

She shook her head, trying not to cry.

He acknowledged what she met with a sympathetic expression. And felt the pain in his heart break it.