"Sure, I think about you now and then, but it's been a long, long time."
What Might Have Been, Little Texas
"Jamie Scott! Up and at 'em!"
Jamie blinked his eyes open, lifting a hand to his head as he groaned. What the hell did he do last night? He sat up, lifting his hand to his head again as he twisted his body to the side, setting his feet on the—freaking cold—floor. He pulled his feet back up, yawning widely, feeling an ache in his jaw as he did. He opened his eyes again, narrowing them as he looked around.
"What the hell?"
This was not right. How was he in his old bed? He'd outgrown it around the time he started high school. And he'd rearranged the room, once the new, not to mention much bigger, bed arrived. That Harry Potter poster had found its way into the trash around the same time. He heard an almost silent sound and his heart dropped. He stood up, walking over to his closet, opening the door and kneeling down. He gasped when he saw it, watched his shaking hand reach over, soon feeling the soft thump of a heart next to his own.
"Chester?"
The rabbit wiggled his nose, and Jamie let out a watery laugh. He swallowed, shaking his head.
"Chester, you … You died when I was in ninth grade. I remember. It was … I was so sad. Lydia cried for hours. She was five."
He shook his head, bending to let the rabbit back into his cage. He locked it, rubbing a hand over his face. He stood up, walking to the mirror. He looked the same. Still about six-foot-one, hair that was once sandy blonde, but gradually grew darker as he got older. Now, his hair was almost identical to what his father's had been. Just a bit darker than Lydia's chocolate brown. There was stubble on his face, because he hadn't shaved in a few days. Same blue eyes he'd always had. He shook his head, looking down at the gray Duke University long-sleeved t-shirt he was wearing, blue plaid pajama pants that matched. He shook his head again, speaking to his reflection.
"What the hell is going on?"
He opened his door, poking his head into the hall, looking down it. Lydia's door was closed, as was Riley's, but Logan's door was wide open. Jamie walked there, yawning again, stopping short when he saw the trains. Logan hadn't trains in his room since …
Logan had never had trains in his room. It had been superheroes, mainly X-Men, from the moment he'd moved in with Quinn and Clay.
Jamie shook his head, swallowing as he walked backwards, making his way down the stairs. There were noises coming from the kitchen, and he made his way there, stopping short to take in the sight.
"James Lucas Scott, why in the world are you still in your pajamas? You've got class in less than an hour."
His heart was going to beat right out of his chest. He knew it. There was a buzzing sound in his ears, and he knew he would pass out in just a few seconds. He walked over, gripping the counter, sitting down hard in one of the chairs at the bar. His mouth was dry, and his tongue felt thick in his mouth. Somehow, though, he spoke.
"Mom?"
"I've got a good life now, and I've moved on."
What Might Have Been, Little Texas
Jude felt himself coming back to consciousness, vaguely aware of an incredible ache deep in his chest. He blinked his eyes open, noticing the ache in his head that nearly matched the one in his chest. He let out a quiet cough, hand coming up for his chest, but being stopped halfway there.
"Hey, it's okay. You're all right."
Jude breathed hard for a few seconds, then opened his eyes.
"Mom?"
Brooke smiled, reaching out to gently brush her fingers through Jude's hair.
"Hey, there. You scared me."
Jude blinked again, looking up at his mother with a confused look on his face. Brooke sighed.
"You don't remember?"
Jude relaxed back, finally recognizing the steady beep and hiss beside him. He glanced over, then back to Brooke.
"Am I in the hospital?"
Brooke nodded, pulling her chair back beside the bed she hadn't left since she got the call that her son was being transported to the Tree Hill Medical Center by ambulance.
"Yeah, baby. Your lung collapsed, and you have a mild concussion."
Jude shook his head.
"I don't … I don't remember anything."
"It's okay. The doctor said you might have some short-term memory loss."
Jude shook his head again, then relaxed back against the pillows as his head gave a throb.
"I don't know what happened."
"That's okay. Just rest for me, all right?"
Jude nodded, his eyes suddenly heavy. Brooke rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand.
"I'll be here."
There was a soft knock at the door, and Owen stepped inside. Brooke let go of Jude's hand, standing up and letting Owen wrap her up in his arms. She let out a sigh as she rested her head against his chest, and Owen rested his head on top of hers.
"How's he doing?"
Brooke let out a sigh at Owen's quiet statement.
"He just woke up for a second. He doesn't remember what happened."
She leaned back, looking up at him.
"Any news on Jamie?"
Owen shook his head.
"Still no change."
Brooke sighed, pushing her hands through her hair as she walked back to sit in her chair. Owen pulled a chair up beside her, taking her hand.
"The plane should land in about an hour with Davis."
Brooke nodded.
"I knew he'd come back."
"His brother's in the hospital, honey. Of course he's coming back."
Brooke nodded again, looking at Jude. She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she spoke.
"I think I'm going to make Jude go back with him."
"Really?"
Brooke nodded, turning to face Owen.
"Look at what happens when he's with me. Maybe Julian can help him. They have something in common here, you know."
Owen nodded. Brooke had told him.
"Maybe that will do him some good. Get away from here for a while, spend some time with his dad and Davis."
"God, I hope so."
Owen lifted Brooke's hand to his lips, gently kissing her knuckles. She sighed, taking her hand back from him and standing up, walking over and climbing into his lap, curling up against his chest. Owen smiled, laying an arm over her legs, using his other hand to play with her hair.
"But when you cross my mind…"
What Might Have Been, Little Texas
Quinn woke up when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked around, at the hospital bed she'd had her head resting on her arms. She lifted her head, and Clay gave her a small smile. She leaned up, looking at the sleeping form of her nephew in the bed, then let out a sigh as she sat back, taking the cup Clay handed her.
"Cappuccino, since I know how you feel about full-throttle coffee."
Quinn smiled, taking a small sip of the warm liquid. Clay sat on the arm of Quinn's chair, taking a sip of his coffee and letting out a sigh.
"No change?"
Quinn shook her head, fluffing out her hair with a hand before she took another sip of her coffee.
"He still hasn't woken up yet."
Clay sighed, finishing off his coffee and tossing the cup into the trash. He shook his head as he looked over at Jamie, at the bruising littering his face.
"Jude woke up a little while ago. Just for a second, but he told Brooke he couldn't remember anything that happened. He went back to sleep right after."
Quinn let out a sigh of her own then, and Clay leaned over, gently rubbing her shoulders.
"Peyton's got the girls. Owen's going to pick Davis up from the airport. God only knows where Lucas is, and Sawyer and Logan have set up camp in the waiting room down the hall."
Quinn let out a quiet laugh as she shook her head, reaching a hand over to take hold of Jamie's hand. She gently held his hand, running a finger across the back of his hand.
"He's so warm. I just … I don't understand what happened, or why he hasn't woken up yet."
"It's the concussion, babe."
"I know it is. I just … What could have possibly happened that would cause this?"
Clay swallowed, not giving Quinn a hint of what he thought happened. After seeing the bruises on Jamie's face and the matching bruises on Jude's knuckles… Clay had a pretty good idea of what had happened.
"I try not to think about what might have been."
What Might Have Been, Little Texas
She stood in front of him, eyes narrowed, lips twisted to the side. He couldn't take his eyes from her, afraid to even blink, afraid she'd disappear. He swallowed at nothing in his dry throat, then spoke again.
"Mom?"
Haley blinked, shaking her head.
"Why are you acting like you're seeing a ghost or something?"
"You … Mom."
Haley rolled her eyes, walking back over to the stove.
"You went out with your friends last night, didn't you? I could kick your butt, Jamie Scott. But I won't."
He stared at her, still unable to take his eyes from her. He shook his head.
"This isn't right."
"What isn't?"
Jamie opened his mouth, stopping when a boy walked in, taking the seat beside him, giving Haley a smile when she slid the bowl of oatmeal in front of him. He began eating, and Jamie's mouth slipped open. The boy's hair was cinnamon-colored, but he had Haley's dark eyes. Jamie snapped his gaze back at Haley when she spoke.
"Why are you staring at your brother like that?"
Jamie's mouth fell open, before he glanced back at the boy beside him. The boy never looked up, He just continued to eat his oatmeal, methodically loading his spoon, eating the bite, repeating his actions.
"He must be where the trains came from."
"I like trains. Trains are cool."
Jamie nodded. Haley let out a sigh, then stepped over across from the boy.
"Hey."
He set his spoon at the edge of his bowl, wiping his mouth with the napkin he had in his lap, then looked up at Haley. She gave him a smile, then nodded towards Jamie.
"Why don't you tell your brother about yourself?"
The boy gave her a nod before turning to Jamie. His eyes were dark, like his mother's, but they were so bright.
"My name is Keith Durham Scott. I'm ten years old. My mother is Haley James Scott. Her middle name is Bob, but she doesn't give her middle name when people ask her what her name is. My father is Nathan Royal Scott, but he doesn't give his middle name either. I have one older brother, one older sister, and one younger sister. I'm in the fourth grade at Tree Hill Elementary School. Mom teaches there, but she doesn't teach me. I don't think I'd like it if she did teach me. She's my mom, not my teacher."
"That's good, Keith. You did good."
Keith looked away from Jamie, to their mother.
"I did good?"
"Yeah, buddy."
"I made eye contact with him while I talked to him."
"I noticed. It was very good."
Keith smiled.
"I'm going to finish my oatmeal now."
"Go ahead."
He settled himself back in the chair, picking up his spoon, methodically filling it with oatmeal, sliding the spoon into his mouth, repeating the motions. Jamie looked over, seeing Haley smiling warmly at Keith, before bringing her eyes back to Jamie.
"Didn't he do a good job, Jamie?"
Jamie nodded, but Keith never looked his way. He never took his eyes from his oatmeal. When he was done, he wiped his mouth, pushing his chair back enough to climb down from it before pushing it back under the bar, moving it until it was perfectly straight. He walked to the sink, turning the water on, washing out his bowl and spoon before loading them into the dishwasher. He washed his hands, then turned to Haley.
"I'm going to get ready for school now."
"Okay, honey."
Keith left, walking up the stairs, and Jamie turned to his mother. Haley smiled as she shook her head.
"He is doing so much better. I'll admit, I never thought he'd do as well as he's doing. I had my reservations when Nathan insisted we put him in public school, but … We couldn't even get him to look at us for the longest time, do you remember?"
Jamie swallowed, looking down at the bar. After a moment, he was able to speak.
"He's autistic, isn't he?"
Haley nodded, sprinkling salt into whatever she was stirring at the stove.
"Not severely. Nowhere near as badly as we feared it would be. I mean, he was two before he walked, so… But you remember that. You were here. He walked to you."
Jamie swallowed, hard, squeezing his eyes shut. He looked up as footsteps sounded at the stairs. He smiled when he noticed his sister, and the smile faltered when he didn't recognize the little girl she held in her arms.
"Okay, Mom. She was dying for the 'Anna braids,' so here we are."
"Lyddie has a Elsa braid today!"
Jamie's eyes widened when he took in the tiny child Lydia was holding. She had a huge smile, white-blonde hair, and the bluest eyes Jamie had ever seen. Haley turned from the stove with a matching smile on her face.
"But I thought we decided that you were Elsa. Because of your hair."
The little girl lifted a shoulder.
"I want to be Anna today."
Haley laughed, leaning over to kiss the little girl's cheek, and Lydia's forehead.
"Good morning, my girls."
"Good morning, Mom."
"Good morning, Mommy! Good morning, Jamie."
Jamie smiled when the little girl leaned over and pressed a smacking kiss to his cheek. Lydia set her in the chair beside Jamie, and she leaned forward, setting her elbows on the bar, putting her head in her little hands.
"Mommy, I'm hungry."
"I know, little monster. It's almost ready."
The little girl smiled, and Haley narrowed her eyes.
"Elbows, missy."
The little girl sat back quickly, pulling her elbows from the counter.
"I thought that was only at the table."
"It's bad manners to put elbows wherever you're eating, goofy."
The little girl stuck her tongue out at Lydia, who rolled her eyes and put the orange juice back in the refrigerator. Jamie swallowed, finding his voice then.
"I thought you didn't like orange juice."
Lydia glanced back, over her shoulder.
"I don't. This is for the baby."
"I'm not a baby! I'm four years old!"
Lydia let out a quiet laugh, screwing a top onto the sippy cup. She walked over, pressing a kiss to the top of the little girl's white-blonde hair.
"I know you are. Such a big girl now."
The girl looked up at Lydia with such adoration in her eyes that Jamie had to look away. This wasn't right. He didn't know what was happening, he didn't understand it, and it terrified him. All he knew was that this was not his life.
"Hey, Scott family!"
The little girl's blue eyes went wide, and she reached for Lydia, opening and closing her hands until Lydia lifted her from the seat and set her on the floor, and she took off running. Lydia walked back over to lean against the counter, and Haley just smiled as she stirred at the stove. Jamie felt his heart stop when the little girl threw out her arms as she rounded the corner again, held up high.
"Daddy's home."
Jamie heard the buzzing again, felt his heart stop in his chest when he saw who was holding the little girl. This time, though, he slid from the chair as he passed out.
"That was then, and we have taken different roads."
What Might Have Been, Little Texas
"Mom?"
Brooke opened her eyes, sitting up in her chair, turning to see who was talking to her. She stood up, walking over, taking her son that was so much taller than she was in her arms.
"Oh, Davis. I'm so glad to see you."
"I missed you, Mom."
Davis held her tightly, taking in a deep breath of her perfume, letting out a breath as he finally relaxed a little. Brooke moved back, taking Davis' face in her hands.
"So tan. I'm so jealous."
Davis let out a laugh, shrugging his shoulders. He looked to the bed, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat.
"Is—is he—"
"He's okay. His lung collapsed, so they had to put a chest tube in. They're thinking they may can take that out tomorrow, though. And he has a concussion."
Davis nodded, not taking his eyes from his brother.
"And Jamie?"
Brooke let out a sigh.
"He's not doing so hot."
Davis looked over to Brooke, who sighed again.
"He hasn't woken up yet."
"Has Jude?"
Brooke nodded.
"He did this morning, just for a minute."
Davis nodded, looking back to his brother. His voice was small, quiet.
"He's going to be okay, right, Mom?"
He looked to her, tears shimmering in his blue eyes, and Brooke gave him a smile, though she had tears in her eyes, as well. She walked up, putting her arms around Davis' shoulders from behind, and he leaned against her.
"He's going to be just fine, honey. I'm sure of it."
"We can't go back again."
What Might Have Been, Little Texas
Jamie groaned as he felt himself coming back to consciousness. His head was pounding, and it throbbed in time with his heartbeat as he blinked his eyes open. Lydia stood over him, pretty eyes narrowed as she watched him watching her.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer."
Lydia rolled her eyes at his mumbled statement.
"You bounced your head off the hardwood there, James. How are you feeling?"
"Like shit."
"You shouldn't say 'shit.' 'Shit' is a curse word."
"Good going, Jamie."
Jamie opened one eye to see Keith sitting on the couch across from him, hands folded in his lap. Jamie groaned, going to sit up.
"Uh-uh. Lay down."
"Lyd, I'm fine."
"Oh, okay. Sure. What just happened in the kitchen, that was you being fine?"
Jamie sighed as he relaxed back again, looking down to see Keith fussing with the couch cushions at his feet. Jamie looked to Lydia, but she just waved a hand.
"Anyway, how many fingers am I holding up?"
Jamie rolled his eyes.
"Seventeen."
"That's impossible. Lydia only has ten fingers."
"Keith, he was kidding. It was a joke."
Lydia punched Jamie on the arm, speaking quietly to him.
"You know he doesn't pick up on jokes and stuff."
"Sorry."
Lydia sighed when Keith moved up to the pillows behind Jamie.
"Keith, the pillows are fine. Can you go tell Mom and Dad that Jamie's okay?"
Keith stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides. His voice was quiet, and he stared at the floor as he spoke.
"The pillows need to be straight. It looks nice if they're straight."
"Jamie's laying on the pillows right now. It doesn't matter if they're straight."
Keith didn't move, just stood there with his eyes cast down and his hands at his sides. Lydia sighed, pushing a hand to her hair, pushing her hair behind her ear.
"Jamie, lean forward."
He did as she asked, watching Keith as Lydia laid one finger under his chin, pushing gently until he raised his head. She fixed the pillows, fluffing them and straightening them behind Jamie, letting him roll back gently.
"There. Is that okay?"
Keith nodded.
"I can go tell Mom and Dad that Jamie is okay."
"Yeah, go do that."
He nodded and walked off, and Lydia let her breath out.
"You're good with him."
"It doesn't feel that way sometimes."
"No, you are. And the little one, too."
Lydia smiled.
"Well, she's easy to love. You scared the bejeezus out of her, though."
"I didn't mean to."
"I mean, you went hard, James. Eyes rolling back in your head and everything. Cassie was screaming, and Dad had to take her outside to get her to calm down. You should have seen me and Mom dragging you in here. That was a sight."
Jamie smiled, moving just a bit, to relax back against the arm of the couch.
"Cassie?"
Lydia sighed.
"Our baby sister, James. Cassandra Deb Scott. Cassie for short."
"Cassandra. Hell of a name."
Lydia nodded. Jamie stared at the ceiling for a minute before he spoke again.
"Keith said his middle name was Durham."
Lydia nodded again.
"Yeah, after Dad's old basketball coach. They couldn't name the kid Whitey, so they went with Durham."
"And he's ten?"
"Yeah. Jamie, how hard did you hit your head?"
Jamie shook his head.
"Just … Just humor me. So Keith was born when you were … what, six?"
Lydia nodded.
"Yeah. And Cassie was born when I was twelve. She was a surprise, though."
"So you're six years older than Keith, and he's six years older than Cassie is."
"And then there's you, old man."
Jamie rolled his eyes, and Lydia just smiled.
"I'm so much older than Cassie."
"Yeah, you kept telling Mom and Dad that you couldn't babysit or anything, because everyone would say that she was your kid."
"Yeah, because I was … Jesus, twenty-one?"
"Well, that's what you get when your parents get married in high school."
Jamie put a hand up to his forehead, settling it gently, sighing when he didn't feel any pain. Lydia smiled as she spoke.
"The grief that Uncle Lucas and Aunt Brooke gave Mom and Dad when Mom told them she was pregnant again…"
Lydia shook her head with a laugh. Jamie smiled softly.
"What did Aunt Peyton say?"
He looked over to see the smile slide from Lydia's face.
"Jamie…"
She sighed, pushing her hair behind her ear again.
"You know this."
"No, I … I really don't."
Lydia sighed again.
"Aunt Peyton died when I was eight."
Jamie sat up, swallowing hard.
"She did?"
Lydia nodded.
"She had breast cancer, just like her mom. Jamie, you know this!"
"No, I—I don't, Lyd. I can't remember it."
"Did you give yourself amnesia?"
Jamie rolled his eyes.
"I don't know, I guess so. Humor me."
Lydia rolled her eyes back at him.
"Aunt Peyton got sick when Sawyer and I were six. Right after Keith was born, actually. She died when we were eight, and Ellie was five."
Lydia took in a breath, letting it out before she spoke.
"Julian took off right after Peyton died, and he and Aunt Brooke got a divorce. Aunt Brooke and Uncle Lucas got married on Valentine's Day when we were eleven, and had Peyton Victoria in December that year. Cassie was born the next year."
Jamie sat back against the arm of the couch.
"Christ."
Lydia watched him as she spoke again.
"So, just to keep score, in that house there's Lucas and Brooke. Sawyer and Ellie. Davis and Jude. And Tori."
"What about Megan?"
"Who's Megan?
Jamie closed his eyes, speaking softly to himself.
"They never had Meg."
"Who didn't?"
"Brooke and Julian."
"No, they just had the twins. Davis and Jude."
Jamie shook his head.
"Where are Clay and Quinn?"
Lydia let out a breath.
"Clay runs the Fortitude office in New York. Aunt Quinn has the chicest gallery and office in SoHo. Logan just got traded to the Cubs."
Jamie sat up.
"Cubs? Chicago? Wait, baseball?"
Lydia nodded, and Jamie sat back.
"But Logan plays football."
"Logan's a sports guy. But baseball is his thing."
"And basketball's mine."
Lydia snorted.
"Yeah, okay."
"What? What's that snark for?"
Lydia shook her head, shrugging her shoulders.
"You are like … the epitome of white boys can't jump. That's why you coach, James."
"Coach? What are you talking about?"
Lydia held her hands out.
"Seriously, how hard did you hit your head?"
Jamie gave an exasperated sigh, and Lydia held her hands up.
"Okay, okay. Down, boy. You're finishing up your Masters at Duke in Kinesiology. You coach and teach P.E. at Tree Hill High."
Jamie sat back against the arm rest, shaking his head.
"That's … No, I'm in the NBA. I play for the Orlando Magic."
"Wow, that's a cute dream."
Jamie blew out his breath, scrubbing a hand over his face.
"Lyd, something's happening here. Something bad."
"Yeah. You obviously smashed your head hard enough to give yourself amnesia or something."
Jamie let out another exasperated breath.
"Listen to me. This isn't real life. I don't know what the hell this is, but it's not real."
"James, you're freaking me out. Stop."
"No, you have to listen to me."
He reached over, taking her hands in his. She looked down, then back up to his eyes.
"You're sick. You had a—kind of a mental break, so you're in this place in Columbia. I came back to Tree Hill and got in trouble, and I … I don't remember what happened, but it had to have been something bad."
Lydia listened to him, nodding slowly, then pulled her hand away.
"So you think I'm crazy, yet you're the one on the couch because you passed out as soon as you saw our father. Not to mention that you have no idea who anyone is or anything about our family, but I'm the crazy one?"
She shook her head as she stood up, smoothing out the skirt she was wearing.
"I have to go to school. Maybe you can get your reality check before we get home."
Jamie swallowed hard as she walked out of the room. Haley walked in, holding Cassie in her arms, bending to press a kiss to Jamie's forehead.
"See, honey? He's fine."
Cassie stuck her thumb in her mouth as she laid her head on her mother's shoulder. Haley pointed at Jamie.
"You're skipping class today. Lounge around. Don't get into any trouble, or the cookies in the cabinet. And let your dad rest some. He had a long flight."
Haley turned away, putting her purse on her shoulder.
"Hey, Mom?"
Haley turned back, both arms around the little girl on her hip. Jamie swallowed, nodding at her.
"I love you."
She smiled at him, the wide closed-mouth smile he'd missed so much.
"I love you too, you crazy kid."
She turned away, and Jamie could hear Cassie talking as the front door opened.
"I could use a cookie from the cabinet."
"Not a chance, sister."
Jamie pushed his hands through his hair, shaking his head. He sat up, pushing his hands through his hair again, stopping when his head throbbed. He let his breath out in a hiss, grabbing onto his side as pain shot through there, as well.
"Easy. Take it easy."
Jamie gasped as he heard his father's voice, as he felt his gentle hands on his shoulders. Jamie reached up and grasped Nathan's arms, tears coming to his eyes.
"Dad."
"Take it easy, son. Everything's okay. I'm right here."
Jamie let out a sob, the pain in his heart almost overtaking the power of the pain in his head. He could feel Nathan gently rubbing his back, and he crumpled in on himself, letting the tears come. Nathan helped him sit up, then took Jamie in his arms.
"It's okay, Jamie. Just breathe."
"There's no use giving in."
What Might Have Been, Little Texas
"Just breathe, honey."
Quinn stared at the monitor as she watched Jamie's heart rate spike. She kept on gently rubbing his shoulder, squeezing his hand.
"Come on, Jamie. Calm down."
The nurse pushed a syringe of something into Jamie's IV, and Quinn let out a breath of relief when his heart rate finally started to slow. She shook her head at the nurse.
"I don't know what happened. He was fine, and then…"
"No one really understand what goes on when a patient is in a state like he is."
Quinn nodded, and the nurse left the room.
"Oh, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie."
Quinn shook her head, sitting back in her chair.
"Come back to us, Jimmy-Jam."
"And there's no way to know what might have been."
What Might Have Been, Little Texas
"You back with me, bud?"
Jamie nodded, shooting his father a sheepish look.
"Sorry I kind of lost it there for a minute."
Nathan shrugged his shoulders.
"It happens. You feeling better?"
Besides the fact that he couldn't take his eyes from the man he'd once worshiped, the man he'd missed as though a part of himself had been missing for the past sixteen years?
"Yeah, I am, actually."
Nathan smiled, patting Jamie's leg as he stood up.
"As much as I love you, kid … I'm exhausted."
Jamie nodded, watching as Nathan yawned, walking towards the stairs.
"Hey, Dad?"
Nathan turned back, locking eyes with Jamie, who just gave him a smile.
"Nothing. Have a good nap."
Nathan snorted.
"Stop acting like your mother, you weirdo."
Jamie let out a laugh as Nathan walked up the stairs. He closed his eyes, opening them again to see the photo album on the coffee table. He picked it up, setting it on his lap, going through pictures he didn't recognize of a family he didn't remember having. He gently drew a finger over pictures of Peyton, as he watched her gradually get thinner, watched her hair disappear, until there were no more pictures of her. Julian was in some of the pictures, and then suddenly, he wasn't. Jamie just shook his head when he got to the pictures of Brooke and Lucas together, because he just couldn't imagine them together, even if they had been when they were back in high school. He saw pictures of a beautiful little girl with Brooke's dark hair, and Lucas' blue eyes. There were pictures of the kids as they grew up, Lydia, the twins, Sawyer. Jamie couldn't find any pictures of Riley, and it hurt his heart to think of her and Megan. They had never been born in this world.
He didn't like it. Well, not all of it. He loved his parents. As shocked as he had been to see them, he never wanted to let them out of his sight. And Lydia seemed happy here. As a throb of pain shot through his head again, he set the photo album back on the table. He rubbed a hand at his temple, taking in a breath through his teeth. He stretched back out on the couch, laying his arm over his eyes, trapped again between the pain pressing against his skull and the pain in the middle of his chest.
"They might be the best days we will ever know…"
What Might Have Been, Little Texas
Davis sat in the chair beside Jude's bed, his feet propped up on the bed, hands laced together over his stomach as he watched his brother sleep. Jude wasn't sleeping easy anymore, and Davis was hoping this meant he'd wake up soon. The chest x-ray they'd done that morning hadn't been what the doctor was hoping for, so the tube was still in Jude's chest. Once he woke up properly, they'd discuss what the best options would be. Davis leaned his head back, letting out a deep breath, letting his eyes drift close.
"Get your feet off my bed, asshole."
Davis' eyes snapped open as he sat up, both feet landing on the floor.
"Jude?"
Jude blinked his dark eyes open, frowning at the oxygen in his nose. A shaky hand lifted, and Davis was on his feet, shaking his head.
"Leave it. It's okay."
Jude blinked at him, and Davis couldn't help the smile.
"Hey, brother. You scared me."
Jude shook his head.
"What happened?"
"You don't remember?"
Jude glanced around, shaking his head.
"Must not be good, since I'm here. And you're here."
"Yeah, nice going, pulling me away from nice, warm, sunny Cali."
"I'd flip you off, but I just don't have the energy."
Davis laughed quietly, pulling the chair closer to the bed.
"Apparently, and this is all secondhand info from Mom, Sawyer and Logan found you and Jamie at the Rivercourt. Your lung collapsed, and you have a pretty nasty concussion. Nowhere near as gnarly as the one Jamie has, though."
"How is he?"
Davis let out a sigh.
"Not too good. He hasn't woken up yet."
Jude narrowed his eyes.
"How—how long have we been here?"
"Three days."
"Shit."
He coughed, letting out a gasp, one hand scrabbling at his chest until Davis grabbed it.
"Easy. There's a tube in your chest. It's probably going to hurt like a bitch for a while."
"No kidding."
Jude coughed again, squeezing Davis' hand as Davis whispered to him.
"Take it easy. Everything's all right."
Jude finally let out a ragged sigh, resting back against the pillows as he looked up at his brother.
"Where's Mom?"
"She's been keeping vigil here for as long as you've been here. I made her go home last night to get some sleep, and she hasn't made it up here yet. She's bound to be exhausted, but I'm sure she'll come walking through those doors any second now."
Jude nodded, glancing over at the monitors beside his bed.
"You think you could grab a nurse for me?"
Davis flashed him a smile.
"Have you met me?"
Jude rolled his eyes, clutching his chest when he coughed again. Davis walked up to him, nodding towards the door as it opened and a nurse walked in.
"Well, well. Look who's finally up!"
Jude managed a weak smile, and Davis pointed towards the hallway. Jude nodded, and Davis pulled his phone from his pocket. He dialed the number to their house, smiling when a deep voice answered the phone.
"Hello?"
"Well, look who's answering phones like he lives in the place."
Laughter rumbled through the line.
"Davis Baker. To what do I owe this honor?"
"He's awake, Owen. Tell Mom that he's up."
"That's great. She'll be glad to hear that. We were just about to head that way."
"I knew it."
Davis shook his head, then glanced down the hall.
"Hey, Owen, you remember what we talked about?"
"Yeah, kid."
"Do you think …?"
"It's on the way."
Davis closed his eyes.
"Thank you, Owen."
"It was a genius idea. I just got the ball rolling."
Davis nodded as he heard Owen moving around.
"Hey, I hear your mom. Do you want to tell her?"
"Yeah, I can do that."
After a moment, Brooke's worried voice filled the line.
"Davis? Is everything all right?"
"He's awake, Mom."
Davis heard Brooke gasp.
"He is? Is he all right?"
"Yeah, he's fine. A nurse is with him right now. He still doesn't remember anything, but…"
"But he's awake. Oh, thank God."
Davis smiled as he heard Brooke mumbling to Owen.
"Honey, we'll be up there in a few minutes, okay?"
"Okay. Love you, Mom."
"I love you, too. And tell Jude that I love him."
"I will."
Davis ended the call, stepping back into the room as the nurse left. Jude looked up, giving him a nasty face, and Davis couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up.
"What?"
"She stuck me. Treated my arm like a damn vampire or something."
"Oh, get off it. You're fine."
Jude looked away, and Davis laughed again.
"Mom and Owen are on their way here. She said to tell you she loves you."
Jude nodded, lifting a hand to his chest again. Davis let out an exasperated breath as he moved over to take hold of Jude's hand.
"Stop it. Leave it alone."
"It feels weird. And it hurts."
"God, you're such a baby when you're sick."
"I'm not sick. I'm hurt."
Davis rolled his eyes, letting Jude's hand go.
"Leave it alone."
Jude nodded, and Davis sat back in his chair, lacing his fingers together over his flat stomach.
"You really don't remember what happened to you?"
Jude leaned back, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
"I remember Mom telling me that Jamie got arrested."
"Whoa, pause. Rewind. Jamie got arrested?"
Jude squinted his eyes, then nodded.
"There was a party at Duke… The details are kind of fuzzy. But he was …"
Jude glanced over to the corner of the room.
"He was at the Rivercourt, and I had to get to him."
"What for?"
"I don't … I don't remember."
Davis nodded, watching as Jude thought, until he let out a pained breath. Davis sighed.
"Do you want me to get the nurse?"
Jude shook his head.
"She said she'd be right back with some pain meds."
Davis nodded, and Jude closed his eyes.
"Davis, I don't have a good feeling about this."
Davis let out a breath.
"Me either."
Jude nodded, keeping his eyes closed. Davis reached over, gently patting Jude's leg.
"I'm here, man. Just try and rest."
"But we'll have to leave them in the past."
What Might Have Been, Little Texas
When Brooke and Owen arrived at the hospital, he left her alone with her sons and walked down the hall. He gently knocked on a door, opening it and sticking his head inside. He smiled at the warm smile that crossed Quinn's face.
"Hey, Owen."
"Hey."
He stepped inside, shaking Clay's hand before walking over and laying his hands on Quinn's shoulders.
"How's he doing?"
Quinn sighed.
"Not much different. He had a rough episode a little while ago, but…"
"No news is good news, right?"
Owen shared a forced smile with Clay. When Quinn looked to the bed, Owen motioned with his head, and Clay nodded. He walked up behind Quinn, as Owen slipped out the door.
"Hey, Q? We're going to go get a cup of coffee, okay?"
"Okay. I'll be here."
Clay sighed, bending to press a kiss to the top of Quinn's head. He closed the door behind him, falling into step beside Owen.
"Did you get it?"
Owen nodded.
"Davis wants to join us."
Clay nodded.
"Do you think we need to get Skills or someone to watch it with us?"
"Maybe after?"
Clay nodded again, and Owen stopped outside Jude's room.
"Let me grab Davis and we'll go out to Brooke's car."
A few minutes later, Owen, Clay, and Davis were in the backseat of Brooke's car, with the DVD footage from the security cameras at the Rivercourt in the DVD player. Owen took in a deep breath, then pressed play.
"Okay, there's Jamie."
Clay and Owen nodded when Davis pointed, seeing Jamie walk onto the court, standing there for a moment before walking up the bleachers and sitting there. He stayed there for a while, as the sun went down and the lights came on, long enough for Owen to fast-forward the DVD just a bit, until Clay pointed.
"Hang on, there's a car."
"It's Jude."
They watched the car come to a stop and Jude get out, and they saw Jamie walk down the bleachers to meet him on the middle of the court.
And they all sucked in a breath as they watched Jude throw the first punch.
"Goddamn it, Jude."
Davis swallowed, rubbing a hand over his lips as they watched Jamie and Jude beat the living hell out of each other. Clay shut his eyes when he watched Jamie's head bounce off the concrete, and Davis sucked in a breath when he saw Jude collapse. Owen cleared his throat.
"There's Sawyer and Logan."
They all watched as Sawyer knelt beside Jude, watched Logan as he pulled out his phone and dialed 9-1-1 before he noticed Jamie. They watched the ambulances drive up, and when they sped away, Owen stopped the DVD. Davis hung his head, rubbing a hand over his hair. Clay dragged his hands down his face as he let out a breath. Owen rubbed at his beard, letting out a sigh.
"What do we do now?"
Davis sounded so much like a little boy that Owen reached back and draped an arm around him. Clay looked up, shaking his head.
"I guess we need to tell everyone."
Davis sighed.
"My mom and Quinn?"
"And Jude."
Davis pushed his hands through his hair. Owen squeezed his arm. Clay let out a sigh, reaching over and squeezing Davis' shoulder before he left the car. Davis lifted his head when Clay was gone.
"Owen, this is bad."
Owen let out a breath.
"Yeah, bud. Yeah, this is bad."