Chapter 6, hope you enjoy! Thank you again for reading and a special thanks to those who left comments, Lexie :)

Matthew's cries whimpered through the baby monitor, rousing Haley from her sleep. She rolled onto her back listening out for what kind of cry it was and counted back to his last feed. Turning her head she frowned at the sight of Nathan staring up at the ceiling, clearly wide awake.

"Hey," She whispered into the darkness.

"Hey." He returned, "I got him, don't worry. I was just working out if it was a feed or a diaper."

Shaking her head, Haley went to pull back the comforter, "It's okay, you sleep."

"Hales," Nathan sat up in the bed and leaned down over her. "I know Luke's in the hospital and all but that doesn't stop me from being a Dad. I said we'd share the night feeds and we will. There's a bottle in the fridge, right?"

Haley nodded softly and he leaned down to kiss her.

"Go back to sleep." He said, throwing back the quilt and padding across the room in just his boxers. He could feel Haley's eyes on him as he walked, worried about how he was handling everything. He wasn't sure how he was doing truthfully but feeding his kid definitely couldn't make him feel any worse.

Quietly he crossed the hall and stepped into Matthew's bedroom. Inside the crib the little boy was clenched up, red faced and crying loudly now, real tears rolling down from the corners of his eyes.

"Hey, hey, little man." Nathan scooped his son up with one arm and laid him over the right side of his chest. "Shh, come on, I'll feed you, don't panic."

Bouncing him as he walked, Nathan strode towards the kitchen, hoping not to wake Ben or Izzy along the way. He bypassed the light switch; being a father of three had trained his night vision pretty well and warming a bottle in the dark was child's play now. Matthew's cries had dulled a little but he was ensuring his Dad knew he was still hungry. His little legs moved in a kicking motion, in and out, with the same rhythm as his cries.

After setting the bottle in the warmer, Nathan did a few circuits of the kitchen, his left hand cradling Matthew's head, his fingers stroking his soft fair hair. "Hey, come on, what did Aunt Rachel do to you? Or are you feeding off of our mood, huh? Not a fun house at the moment, I get it."

Feeling the frown over his face, Nathan sighed, "I don't know if anyone's told you but your Uncle Lucas is sick."

Matthew only cried in response.

"Yeah," Nathan nodded in agreement, "It sucks."

He crossed the room back to the bottle and tested the temperature on his forearm. Happy with it, he adjusted Matthew's position and then tempted the teat to his lips. Nathan settled into one of the seats at the breakfast table and held his hand flat against Matthew's tiny little foot.

"You don't know a lot about your my Dad, your Grandpa Dan. He's your Uncle Lucas' Dad too. Different Moms…but I guess that's kind of a different story. Anyway my Dad wasn't ever there for Lucas. I guess our Dad's not a real nice guy. But he is our Dad, Luke's Dad," Nathan paused to take a breath. He wondered why he was having this one-sided conversation with his baby son rather than Haley or his Uncle Keith, or anyone who was capable of an actual response. He supposed he wasn't ready to hear what they might have to say to his suggestion. "It's just, if anything ever happened with you, or Ben, or Izzy, I'd need to know. Dan's different from me, I know that. And I know that he might disappoint us all over again too by doing something completely douchey but…don't judge me for what I'm about to say but, what if something happens to Lucas? And none of us give Dan a chance to, to settle things or even, say goodbye."

Matthew squirmed in his hold a little, his little brow creased to a frown. Nathan thought he looked a little bit like Lucas.

Nathan put his finger in Matthew's palm and as he'd hoped, the little boy closed his fist around it. Taking a deep breath, Nathan sighed down at his son, "So, what do you think I should do?"

…

Peyton hugged her cardigan around her middle and stepped onto the blacktop, a basketball tucked under her arm. Turning on her heel, she looked back at Holden who was dawdling along the edge of the court, squinting over at his Mom.

"Come on, Buddy!" Peyton called to him, waving her hand enthusiastically, "You know I'm not that bad, I played a little at school."

Holden looked unconvinced but Peyton knew his hesitation wasn't really down to how good or bad she may be at basketball. She was trying to be Lucas for him just for an hour or so, but she knew as well as her astute little boy that it was impossible.

"Mom?" Holden threw out a pouted scowling kind of look to her and she froze midway through launching the ball towards the basket.

"Yeah, Kiddo?" She blinked back.

He shook his head, "I don't want to play."

Seeing her little boy's shoulders fall in defeat, Peyton dropped the ball to the floor and went to gather him up in her arms. Pressing a kiss to his hair she whispered to him, "I know it's not the same as when Dad plays but we can still have a good time, right?"

Holden's narrow blue eyes glanced up at her and then turned away with a look of anguish too mature for his years, "I don't want anything to happen to you too, Mom."

"Oh, honey!" Squeezing him tightly, Peyton took a deep breath, "Nothing is going to happen to me, I promise. Playing basketball wasn't what made Dad sick, okay? And playing isn't going to hurt anyone else. It's just basketball like it always was."

Still Holden stood firm, stubbornly, Peyton noted. "I still don't want to."

"Okay." Peyton crouched down in front of him and took hold of both his hands, "Well why not? It's okay, you know, to still play."

"It's not the same." Holden said with a roll of his eyes, "It's mine and Dad's thing. I don't want to play if he can't play too."

Forcing a proud smile to her lips, Peyton nodded, "I get that, I do. I don't want to do anything without your Daddy being here, but he would be so, so sad if he knew that we weren't doing the things we love just because he's not around. He would want you to play basketball, Holden."

"I'm scared." Holden admitted in a quiet voice.

"I know, Buddy." Peyton said, feeling tears in her eyes, "But I'm right here with you and we're going to play together, alright? A game of HORSE."

With a little reluctance, Holden stepped forward and scooped the ball up from the asphalt. He turned it over a couple of times in his hands before approaching the free throw line and angling up his shot. Peyton watched him, recalling so clearly the first time that Lucas had taken him to play. Holden could only have been about eighteen months, just about walking really, and Peyton had rolled her eyes at the very suggestion. Still, she had gone along with them to watch, secretly expecting to have to comfort a disgruntled Lucas when their baby boy showed more interest in a passing dog walker than shooting at a full sized basketball hoop. Her assumptions though had been completely unfounded; Holden had giggled all afternoon as Lucas lifted him for dunks and spellbound him with shows of how to dribble and spin the ball. Holden was smitten. She couldn't bear for him to lose that love now, one that had been passed down so tenderly from his Dad.

"You can do it, Holden." She encouraged, willing him to shoot. "Just how Dad taught you, right?"

After a long contemplation and a deep breath that mother and son held together, Holden arched the ball perfectly and it sailed neatly though the net. Peyton grinned back at him, proud of her little boy.

"Come here, you superstar." She instructed, strolling towards him, her arms open wide. She clutched her arms around him and pressed a kiss into his golden hair, managing even to lift him from the floor and spin him around. It wasn't the winning dunk from a game nor a perfect shot from the halfway line but it felt important, note-worthy and celebratory. "I love you, Kiddo."

"Love you too, Mom."

…

Peyton rolled her eyes at her little boy as he headed straight for the kitchen following their short game. Her chest warmed as he grinned back at her cheekily and dove into the treats drawer.

"Just one, Kiddo, I mean it." She warned, her brow arched.

He nodded back obediently as he dribbled a ball expertly in one hand and sifted through the snacks with the other. "Okay, Mama."

As Peyton shook her head back at him, Piper slouched into the kitchen, still in her pyjamas with her wet curls hanging limply at her shoulders. Peyton watched as Piper took in her brother's position before whirling around to scowl at her Mom.

"He's playing ball in the house, Mom. The neighbours will complain again." Piper protested.

"Mmm." Peyton answered knowingly, her eyes glittering slightly, "And they'll say the same about that music of yours. Screw them, anyway."

Piper smirked shyly back at her Mom. She loved when she acted all 'wily' as her Dad would say. "So I can play something loud?"

"As loud as you like, it sounds better anyway." Peyton smiled, she liked, however small, to give her kids what they wanted from time to time. "You go through to your room and pick something awesome, I'll be through in a minute to sort out those curls, okay?"

Not needed to be told twice, Piper disappeared, skidding slightly on the wood flooring as she went. Across the kitchen, Holden took a running leap towards one of the high cabinets and shot the basketball high towards the ceiling. Peyton had never been so pleased for him to play ball in the house. She smiled widely as the room shook with the power of his shot and the cupboard door rattled noisily.

Peyton only rifled his hair as she passed by him and he bit his lip guiltily back at her. She didn't want him to feel guilty though, she was just glad to see a little of her old Holden back.

As she passed by the lounge, she popped her head around the door to let Keith and Karen know that she'd be at home for a while, and that they were free of grandparenting duties and could go down to the hospital. They graciously accepted the offer and told her they'd be back for lunch.

Reaching Piper's room, Peyton frowned; it was completely empty. Tilting her head to the left she had to refrain from rolling her eyes, from her own bedroom down the hall, she could hear the opening bars to a familiar Cure song playing.

"You told me to pick something awesome." Piper said as Peyton strolled inside the bedroom.

"That I did." Peyton agreed, loosing her fingers in her daughters dripping curls. "Good choice, Little Trin."

Piper closed her eyes and tapped her fingers on the dressing table as Peyton reached for some serum and began to comb it through Piper's hair. It was possibly the only activity Peyton could think of that she and Piper shared solely. Everything else was co-parented. Lucas had no issue with taking on any of the usual Mommy roles but the one think he'd yet to master was taming Piper's hair. If left to him, she'd be left with a wild, frizzy mess. Despite Peyton's attempts to teach him, serum, moose, conditioner and treatments were all double dutch to him. His thick fingers got lost in braiding and he couldn't get his head around which attachments to use on the hairdryer. Haircare was all Peyton.

As she tamed the flyaways, Peyton tried to recall anything that Lucas took sole responsibility of when it came to the kids. She'd covered the usual basketball session that morning but couldn't think of anything else she may have missed. She hoped there wasn't anything. She couldn't stand the thought of them being deprived of anything whilst Lucas wasn't there, anything more than their Dad being missing anyway.

"Lovecats!" Holden crashed into the room wearing a chocolatey smile.

He jumped up onto the bed, pawing the sheets with his grubby hands. Peyton couldn't bring herself to berate him for it though. Instead she found his requested song, happy to have him content as could be bouncing around on the double bed. Piper was singing along under her breath, a fan like her Mom of all and any Cure songs.

As Peyton watched the moment; so filled with the casual contentment of her children, she couldn't help from feeling Lucas' absence in every corner of the room. His tall frame wasn't filling the doorway. His cool blue eyes weren't narrowing at the choice of song. He wasn't reluctantly joining in with their singing.

Everything that made them a family felt altered and removed, it didn't work just the three of them; Peyton and the kids. Even the trio's shared favourite song that Lucas not-so-secretly despised felt hindered by his absence.

…

Nathan rounded the car and unlatched Isabel's seatbelt before helping her down from her booster seat. He took her by the hand and walked her carefully through the car park, towards the Arrivals terminal.

"Will Grandpa Dan bring us presents?" Isabel asked, her big brown eyes looking up at her Daddy expectantly.

She and Ben were used to pretty regular visits from their Grandpop and Grandma when Jimmy and Lydia dropped in for short stays. Usually they'd have flown in from their travels with their luggage bursting with treats and delights for the kids. Somehow Nathan doubted that Dan would do the same.

Sighing down at his daughter, Nathan rolled his shoulders, "I doubt it, Iz. Your Grandpa's here because Uncle Lucas is sick, I don't think he's had any time for gifts."

"Oh." Isabel nodded in the response and then went quiet.

Not for the first time, Nathan wished beyond anything that his Mom could have met her grandchildren. He knew that they would have adored her and she would have spoilt them all rotten. But as he had to remind himself most mornings, his Mom was gone. He only had Dan as the sole offering of a grandparent to his kids. Luckily Keith and Karen acted as fantastic substitute grandparents but somewhere, deep inside, Nathan secretly still rooted for Dan coming through.

Looking down at his daughter's mute expression, Nathan felt a flush of guilt pass over him for bringing her along to the airport. Selfishly it was completely for his own benefit; he and Dan were no longer close and the fact hungover them every time they met up. With Isabel there as a buffer though, Nathan hoped for some of the empty feelings to be washed away by her adorable chatter and probable interrogation of her Grandpa. He'd asked Ben along too, but he'd chosen instead to stay with Haley. Nathan had seen that as a mature decision on Ben's part; not wanting either of his parents to be alone.

"Is Grandpa Dan staying with us?" Isabel questioned curiously, her voice light and devoid of any disappointment over the gift situation.

Nathan felt his lip curling slightly. He and Haley had bickered over this point not an hour before. She hadn't been entirely thrilled with the prospect of Dan visiting at all, knowing Lucas' stance on his father, but had softened when Nathan had explained his motives. When it came to sleeping arrangements though, she hadn't been as pliable. She'd argued that having Matthew meant that they no longer had a spare room - she was right - and there was no room for another body. Nathan had shot back that three of the bodies in the house were pretty small anyway, and Ben or Isabel vacate their room for one night to accommodate Dan, but Haley had silenced him with a look.

"No, he'll be in a hotel or something." Nathan told her honestly, as they stepped into the terminal, "There's nowhere for him to sleep at ours."

"He can have my bed. I don't mind." Isabel offered with a casual roll of her shoulders.

Nathan smirked to himself at the image of Dan in her princess bedroom and then shook the thought away. Smiling in every form felt almost sinful whilst Lucas was in the hospital. "That's sweet of you, Iz, but he likes hotels."

Isabel wrinkled her nose in a very Haley-like manner, "Hotels are boring. They don't even have toys in them."

"I guess not." Nathan said through an arched brow, his eyes scanning the screens for news of the impending arrival from North Carolina. "Okay, he's in baggage reclaim."

"Are there toys at the hospital where Uncle Lucas is?" Isabel asked, squinting up at her Dad.

Wincing at the question, Nathan crouched down to his daughter's level and squeezed her hand, "Listen, Izzy, your Uncle Lucas is really sick, okay? He's not up for playing with toys at the moment."

"What's wrong with him?" She shot back, "Did he break his arm like Holden did?"

"No, honey." Nathan sighed, wishing that Haley was there for this conversation. She had always been better with words and explaining things. "It's a bit more serious than a broken arm. He has something wrong with his heart and it's going to take him a long time to get better. At the moment he's in a really deep sleep and we're waiting for him to wake up and tell us that he's going to be okay."

Isabel's dark eyes widened as she digested the news, "He is going to be okay, right Daddy?"

Rubbing a hand across her back soothingly he gave her a firm nod, "Of course. Don't you worry."

As he stood again to his full height, Nathan made a silent plea for his words to come true. Honestly, the alternative was unimaginable.

"Nathan."

The familiar clipped gruff tone of his father broke Nathan from his thoughts and he turned to greet Dan as Isabel pounced on her grandfather with a hug around his legs.

"Hey…Dad." He reached for the luggage but Dan battered him away, more than capable of carrying the overnight bag himself. Instead Nathan reached for Isabel's hand to guide her away, "Izzy, your Grandpa's been on a long trip, give him some room to breathe."

"Leave her be, Nathan." Dan said, surprising Nathan, "Now where are my Grandsons?"

Jerking his thumb behind him, Nathan indicated towards the car park, "Back at the apartment with Hales."

Dan nodded and smiled down to Isabel as he presented her with some candy Nathan suspected he'd bought from the airport gift shop. Still, he appreciated the gesture.

They walked mostly in silence to the car; Dan and Nathan only spoke when they were addressed by Izzy with a question. It was only once Nathan had belted her in and snapped the door shut that Dan seemed ready to talk.

"How is he? Really, Nathan?" Dan asked and for a moment, Nathan could see emotions dancing in his father's eyes, the likes of which he was sure he'd never seen before.

…

Peyton clutched onto Lucas' hand, feeling his pulse under his skin. After Keith and Karen had returned to the apartment following their visit, she hadn't been able to resist the calls of her husband's bedside. She promised herself that she wouldn't steal too much time away with him as her kids deserved at least one parent around for them through this, but she couldn't deny Lucas either.

As she held onto his hand, she closed her eyes, imagining a different scenario. If she concentrated hard enough she could almost convince herself of it too. When she opened her eyes again though she was reminded of the crushing reality. She winced at the pain that overtook her. She wanted nothing more than to be able to crawl up into his arms and have him kiss her hair, whisper in his husky tone that he was there and that everything would be okay.

"God, I miss you." She said. It felt selfish to say but it was true.

Lifting Lucas' hand to her mouth, she pressed a long kiss to his skin. "I'm going to sit here and sketch a while. If that's okay?"

Taking his muteness as agreement she reached into her purse and pulled out her sketchpad and pen, resting the book on her thighs. She slipped her sneakers off and set her feet on the edge of the bed. Ordinarily she'd have music to accompany her but right now there was no sweeter sound than the hum of the ventilator and the steady rhythm of the heart monitor, beeping strongly.

Working almost subconsciously, Peyton began to sketch out a memory and slowly a picture of herself and Piper began to materialise on the page. It was how she imagined them to look curled in the window seat of her studio on the morning of Lucas' heart attack. She realised with a stretch on her heartstrings that while she was obliviously sipping coffee and stroking her fingers through Piper's hair, her husband was quite likely collapsing onto the hard gym floor as her little boy watched on.

"Do you remember back when we first moved into the apartment?" Peyton murmured aloud as she concentrated on the intricacies of Piper's curls. "I chose the dining room as my studio and you had my Dad's office for writing? Or at least that's what we said."

Her lips curled at the corners at the memory. Stating that they both had work to do, they'd each start the day in their respective rooms but by lunchtime Peyton would sneak into his office wearing a coy smile and ask if she could sit and draw whilst he wrote. He'd agree easily and they'd spend the rest of the day pretending not to steal glances at one another.

"Why did we ever think that was a good idea?" She laughed a little to herself. By the time Piper was a couple of years old Peyton's studio had become a playroom and Peyton had moved into Lucas' office on a permanent basis. She complained about the bad light all the time and he groaned constantly about the mess she left in her wake but they spent most of their time together trading smiles and most importantly sharing their days.

Optimistically Peyton glanced up, hoping to see Lucas' rough smirk but of course it was still absent.

"Piper thinks I always draw you." Peyton mused to him. "So now I'm drawing one of her, to prove I have a little range. But I'm drawing it for you. Because you weren't there to see her leaning up against the window and the way the light hit her face. You're missing out, you know? Missing out on her and Holden. On all of it, Luke."

Peyton drew a breath and blinked up at her husband, "But we'll wait, we'll wait as long as we have to, you know that. Until then I figure I'll draw out everything that's gone on. So I can catch you up."

"There's been a lot of crying, naturally." Peyton continued, her eyes back on the page as she shaded Piper's pyjama set. "But there's been these quiet little moments too. They remind me that things can go back to how they were before. We're still those people, you know? Like when Keith dangled Holden upside down by his ankles and he giggled so loudly in shock. Or when Julian taught Piper to play poker in the waiting room and she won every dollar he had in his wallet."

Folding into silence again, Peyton reached for her set of coloured pens and began to brighten her picture with her favoured watery tones. Piper's green eyes sparkled to life and her own smile warmed over the page as she coloured away the white spaces. She washed a pale peach colour along Piper's strong jawline; the same jawline Lucas wore before her now. Her lips twitched at that little reminder that even though Lucas was absent he was present constantly in their children.

Her concentration on Lucas was broken by a tap on the door and she turned, shamefully startled. A kindly faced nurse smiled gently back at her, "Hello, Mrs Scott, sorry to disturb you. I just need a few moments to check his vitals and change a line if that's okay?"

Struggling to contain her irrational annoyance at the disturbance, she nodded tightly and closed her sketchbook. She leaned over the bed and stroked her fingers through Lucas' ever so slightly greying blonde hair, "You can't know how much I hate to keep leaving you, Luke."

Softly she then pressed her lips against Lucas'. She squeezed her eyes shut to the absence of his returning kiss, pushing away the flooding memories of the way Lucas would usually kiss her; pressing but smooth and always lingering a moment longer than her.

Collecting her bag from the floor, she grasped his hand for one last second and then left for the door. "I'll be seeing you, Lucas."

She stepped into the hall and released a long breath. As she blinked in the corridor, she was surprised to see Julian slouched in a seat through the window to the waiting room. She guessed he could have been waiting there a while by his demeanour.

"Hi, Pey," Julian stood as she entered and threw her a flyaway smile, almost too quick for her to catch. "I didn't want to interrupt."

She supposed she should have said sorry for taking so long or told him that he was as welcome as she was in Lucas' room, but instead she thanked him.

…