He had watched her most of the night, fading into a fitful sleep every few minutes only to jerk awake from some unknown force pulling at his soul. In that moment when he awoke, Keith was unable to remember why he was in Karen's room, sitting close beside her as if he was guarding her. It was those moments that he cherished just before his memory returned to him, instant and heavy as if a slab of concrete had landed on his entire frame, crushing him under its weight.
It was after such a moment that Keith sniffled, wiping his nose free of mucus with the back of his sleeve from crying so much, desperately trying to be strong. But as he pushed away from the chair he sat in, he felt odd. His neck and shoulders ached, his head spinning. Was it a headache? How long had he slept? Was he sick from fatigue?
Keith sighed and decided to take it slowly as he lifted himself from the chair, standing slightly hunched over Karen's bed, looking down at the woman whose face was wet and red from crying in her sleep. Her face, although still contorted into a painful expression, seemed softer than earlier that morning as if the night's sleep had swept some of the pain away.
The man looked down at her for a prolonged moment then opted to retire to the restroom to relieve himself. Taking slow, steady steps toward the door leading to the hallway, Keith quietly slipped out of Karen's room and continued to make his way quietly toward the white and peach bathroom. The warm rays of the sun washed over Keith's face as he stepped into the softly lit bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he walked over to the toilet and lifted the seat then proceeded to unzip his zipper.
When he finished, he flushed the toilet and walked toward the sink and stared at his image in the mirror below the light fixture. Although he had attempted to clean himself earlier, he could still point out clear traces of Lucas' blood smeared faintly across his left cheek where he had embraced his nephew. Keith immediately turned on the water and, reaching for a nearby washcloth, prepared to wipe the blood away. As he drowned the navy blue fabric in the steaming hot water, Keith looked at himself closer in the mirror; a man with baggy circles under his eyes, unruly stubble, and a perpetual grief-ridden expression stared grimly back at him. Keith looked down and squeezed the washcloth free of excess water and turned the running water off. Taking the washcloth to his cheek, Keith scrubbed viciously with the blue fabric, desperately trying to rid himself of the stain on his person. He didn't want Karen to have to see it anymore. He didn't want to see it anymore.
"What are you doing?" a light voice asked from the doorway, startling Keith. He turned with the hot cloth still pressed to his face and saw Karen standing in the doorway. She had pushed the slightly ajar door all the way open to expose Keith to the hallway and to her sight. Her face was red and wet with strands of her dark brown hair strewn across her forehead.
Keith looked at her for a while and finally replied, "I-I was washing my face...I hope that's all right."
Karen looked at Keith for a while and finally nodded, her eyelids fluttering as she did. "Of course, yeah," she said as she put a hand over her face and groaned, "God, how could I be so rude? I just...barge in here."
"No, sweetie, no," Keith said as he dropped the washcloth on the sink and walked to Karen, taking her in his arms, "I don't care. What I want to know is how are you? God, what am I saying...?" Keith shook his head, "I'm such an ass."
"No, no," Karen whispered as she looked away from Keith for a moment, "No, you're not. I..." but Karen simply trailed off. Looking up at Keith once again she said, "It's all right."
Keith looked back at Karen, noticing that even though her voice held some semblance of feeling, her face was blank, looking back at him with blank eyes as if someone had stolen her soul. Keith pushed the strands of hair away from her face and let his hand trail down her cheek gently.
"I...I thought you were Lucas," Karen said abruptly still looking into Keith's eyes, "I thought that..."
"It's okay," Keith said and hugged the small woman, "I'm sorry you have to go through this."
"No, it's just that...it's just that he used to wake up at around this time every morning, you know?" Karen continued grasping tightly to Keith, "And I thought that maybe I could see him again."
Keith closed his eyes, finding it difficult to hold back his tears for Karen's sake. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
"Stop it!" Karen cried, "Stop saying you're sorry! I'm sorry! I shouldn't be doing this. I should be..." Karen sobbed and dug her face into Keith's shoulder, "God! Why can't I stop crying!?" Karen screamed.
Keith only embraced the woman tighter, stroking her head gently.
As this was happening, the soft ring of the doorbell sounded in their ears.
Keith opened his eyes just as they were beginning to tear up and he lifted his head from Karen's. "Let me get that," Keith said softly to Karen, "Whoever it is, I'll tell them to go away, all right?"
Karen lifted her head from Keith's shoulder and looked at him with teary eyes. She nodded wearily.
"Go back to bed," Keith continued, "I'll bring you something to eat."
"I'm not hungry," Karen replied softly through light sniffles, "But I'll go back to bed." And Karen turned her back on Keith and slowly made her way to her bedroom, shutting the door slightly. Keith watched as she put her hands over her face and stood over her bed, sobbing quietly and he put a fist over his mouth to stifle his own sobs.
The ring of the doorbell snapped him into action and he briskly walked to the door. Approaching the door, he nearly ripped the door off the hinges and barked, "What!?" His features, angered, pained, and twisted softened when he noticed his sister-in-law standing at the door. She had taken a step back out of fright but her face was clearly that of a woman in anguish.
"Deb," Keith said softly, "God, I'm sorry..." but he was silenced when Deb quickly walked toward him and embraced him as best she could.
"I'm so sorry, Keith," Deb whispered quietly, "God, I'm so sorry."
Keith's hands had been at his sides when Deb first embraced him but they finally managed to embrace the woman back. His eyes reverted from shock to a sullen state as he realized why she was here.
"Thank you," was all he managed to say.
* * *
When her eyes opened she had, for some unknown reason, felt at ease. For some reason, all cares and worries seemed lifted from her form as she looked up at the ceiling, harshly lit with the fluorescent lighting mounted in the center of the white surface. Her eyes looked around the room and soon she came to realize that she was in the nurse's office. But what caught her eye was the young man sitting in the chair across from her, his face ever bright and cheerful, his toothy grin gleaming even in the painful light of the room.
It was him...
"Lucas?" she whispered.
Nathan looked up from the floor to his girlfriend who had fallen unconscious just shortly after the news of Lucas' death. He did not know what to do. One moment she was crying profusely in his arms and the next she made a gasp and then fainted. For a split second, Nathan feared that Haley had died right there in his arms, prompting him to nearly scream her name in the heat of the moment in an attempt to rouse her. Fortunately, the teacher from their class reassured him and instructed him to bring her to the nurse's office.
So he did, carrying her in his strong arms as he raced to the nurse's office. Kicking the door open, Nathan cried in a worried voice, "Sh-she fainted. I-I don't know what to do! Please, help her!"
The rotund nurse looked at Nathan and nodded. "Place her here," she said, pointing to a cushioned sofa, "She will be awake sooner or later. Just go back to class and..."
"No, I'm staying with her," Nathan said.
Of course, the nurse could have forced him out of her office, but considering that she knew of the circumstances she gave the young man a bit of leeway, nodded, and left him to watch over the young woman, eventually bringing a chair for him to sit on.
"Haley?" Nathan said as he rushed to her side, "Haley, it's me. It's Nathan."
Haley's eyes opened and quickly looked over at the source of the voice. "N-Nathan? Wh-where's Lucas?"
Nathan looked at Haley for a long time, his face filled with agony for his girlfriend. "Hales...don't you remember?"
Haley sat up, staring at Nathan a bit longer before finally realizing what meant and she sighed, her eyes trailing away from Nathan's to the floor. "But I saw him...it was so real," she whispered.
Nathan looked at Haley, taking her hand in his. He did not know what to say except, "I'm sorry."
Haley still continued to look down at the floor but replied, "I saw him. He was sitting right where you were, smiling like...everything was going to be okay." Haley looked up at Nathan, her eyes noticeably red and watery and asked, "...but everything's not okay, is it? He's really gone, isn't he?"
Nathan looked directly into Haley's eyes. He did not know the answer to her question. Hell, he didn't know the answer to any of the questions that were swimming in his head: why did Lucas have to die? Why does Haley have to suffer? Why does he feel so...guilty?
"Nathan?" Haley whispered.
Nathan grasped Haley's hand tighter and said, "I don't know, Haley. But I'm sure as hell gonna find out," and with that, Nathan let go of Haley's hand, stood up and head for the door, "I don't know when I'll be back," Nathan said to Haley looking at the door, "But promise me you'll take care of yourself."
"Nathan, where are you going?" Haley asked, "I want to come with you."
"No, Hales," Nathan said firmly, "This is something I've gotta do on my own...okay?"
"Nathan, please..." Haley sobbed but was answered by Nathan opening the door and shutting it quietly behind him. Putting a hand over her face she sobbed quietly, her heart aching and her head spinning over the recent events.
Nathan stood outside of the door, leaning against the surface with his eyes closed. Opening them once again and with a determined expression, he made his way toward the school's exit and toward his car.
* * *
"Brooke, I'm fine, okay?" Peyton yelled as she pushed past her friend and made her way into the girls' lavatory, "I-I don't need you holding my hand anymore."
"I'm just doing what I think is best, Peyton," Brooke protested heatedly, "You just found out that possibly the greatest love of your life is dead. Dead, Peyton! Even I realize how deep that is and he was my ex!"
"Well good for you, Brooke!" Peyton cried, "Congratulations! You got to him first! How was he? Was he everything you ever imagined or more? I know you two didn't have a lot in common but at least you dated!"
"Peyton..." Brooke started.
"No! NO!" Peyton yelled, cutting Brooke off, "You don't get to speak now! Do you realize how much time I wasted with Lucas? All of the things that I said to him yesterday, accusing him! And all he wanted to do was love me!" Peyton laughed, a tear streaming down her face, "LOVE ME! That's all he ever wanted from me!"
Brooke was silent, looking down at the floor.
"I blame myself for a lot of things that went down between me and Lucas," Peyton continued, "But I also...blame you, Brooke."
Brooke instantly looked up at her best friend. "Peyton, you can't be serious," she protested.
"I am," Peyton said, wiping tears from her cheeks, "I am serious. If you hadn't toyed with him for so long with your petty insecurities and your stupid façade, trying to make him think you were interested in what he loved about this life then maybe...maybe he and I could have actually had a chance."
"You shut your mouth," Brooke fumed, "You were the one that kissed him and started everything! You were the one that helped wrecked things! I'm not saying that Lucas wasn't at fault either but..."
"But he's dead now," Peyton coldly stating, cutting Brooke off, "Lucas is dead and there is no one to blame but ourselves for the way we left things. But I...blame...you," Peyton said, emphasizing her statement pointing her finger at Brooke, "I blame you for ever getting involved with Lucas. For ever making me...hold back my feelings for him so you, of all people, could shack up with yet another guy."
"Shut up," Brooke whispered.
"So you could find 'love' in probably the best guy in this entire town and then dump him because you're to insecure and too selfish to ever consider someone else's feelings over your own!" Peyton screamed, "I blame you, you bitch! You slutty, selfish bitch!!"
Brooke stared at Peyton who, after her rant, fell to the floor, sobbing deeply. As she looked down at her friend, her eyes closed and she turned and walked away, leaving Peyton on the floor to grieve alone.
* * *
"I saw the article on the newspaper," Deb said quietly to Keith as he let her in, "I-I just couldn't believe it." Deb walked to sofa and pulled off her coat, laying it gently across the arm of the chair. She looked around for a moment, trying to see if Karen was around then turned to face Keith.
Keith shut the door quietly and sighed. "I haven't seen it yet," Keith replied as he leaned against the door, "I don't think I want to, either." The man looked down at the floor, his head heavy and aching. He was still exhausted.
"God," Deb said, "I shouldn't have come here. I have no business being here at all. Look at you, you're exhausted." Deb began to gather her coat, "I'll come back another day."
"Deb," Keith said, "If I didn't want you here, I wouldn't have let you in so..." Keith trailed off as he pushed himself away from the door and took the blond woman's coat, "Stay, all right?"
Deb looked up into Keith's tired eyes, her eyes watering just by seeing her brother-in-law's pain seep through so readily. Never before had she seen him so distraught. He was always a pillar of strength in her eyes, despite his past problems and that image had never waned once. Yet now...
"Can I get you something?" Deb asked, "Coffee, tea, some food? You and Karen need to eat."
"I'm all right," Keith assured his sister-in-law, "Karen is who I'm worried about right now. She needs someone with her. Someone strong and..."
"She's got you," Deb said, "You're here to support her and make sure she's all right, Keith whether you realize that or not. That's all she really needs right now."
"But, Deb..." but Keith was quieted with a shake of Deb's head.
"I know that you and she have had some past problems, Keith," Deb replied, "But you've got to understand that none of that matters to her right now. You should be here right now serving as her anchor. I can help you but you've got to be the one to help her the most, okay?"
"It's just," Keith began and sighed deeply in order to compose himself, "I'm afraid she'll blame me like with the car accident. God, I don't know if I can take that again."
"Keith, if she does then so be it," Deb said taking hold of the man's arms, "She just lost her son. I wouldn't care if the woman blamed me as long as she had something to hold on to." Deb looked into Keith's eyes, "No parent is ever supposed to outlive their child. And it's painful to..." Deb sighed, her voice shaking.
"I'm sorry," Keith replied quietly, "I know what you're saying."
"Good," Deb replied and wiped away her tears, "Because now is not the time to be worrying about who she'll point fingers at. Lucas was her life and without him...I just don't know."
Keith nodded and turned away but then something hit him. "Dan! Does Dan...?"
Deb looked darkly at Keith and let go of his arms. "Of course he does," Deb said as she turned away from Keith.
"How is he?" Keith asked watching as Deb walked further away from him, "H-how did he take it?"
"Keith, no offense," Deb began, "But if Dan was truly concerned about Lucas don't you think he would be here with me now?"
Keith sensed the pain in Deb's voice underneath the anger and he even felt the anger rise inside of himself as well.
"You know," Deb continued, "I always thought that even though Dan treated Lucas as if he never existed, somewhere deep inside that man truly cared about him. He showed me that when Lucas was involved in that car accident and how he carried him to the hospital. But when we found out well...he was just so callous to the fact that his son was dead. His SON, Keith!"
Keith was silent, shaking his head at the fact that his brother could act so heartless.
"And even if this is some stupid façade," Deb continued, "Why doesn't he at least have the balls to admit to me or to anyone, for that matter, that he truly loved Lucas? That he truly loved his..."
"His son?" a voice said from the back of the living room and both Deb and Keith turned to find Karen standing in a doorway leading to the hall. "Lucas was not Dan Scott's son. As far as I'm concerned, Keith proved to be a better father than Dan would ever hope to be."
"Karen, honey, go back to bed, please," Keith said.
"No, this has to be said," Karen said as she walked closer to the two people, "Because I want the both of you to hear me out." Karen faced Deb with a hardened face and said, "I appreciate everything you've done for both me and Lucas, Deborah, but I want you to get one fact straight: Dan was never Lucas' father. He meant nothing to him and he means nothing to me!"
"Karen..." Deb started.
"Please, just listen," Karen said, "Because I want you to know that Dan...he was never a part of Lucas' life. All he did was sit by and watched as we struggled along, never doing anything to help. And you, of all people, a woman not even related to my son, helped us. Now he's dead."
Keith and Deb were silent as they watched Karen struggle to maintain her composure.
"My son is dead and Dan does nothing! Big surprise!" Karen yells with a twisted smile of grief on her face, "So when you go back to your husband I want you to tell him to stay the hell away from my son. Promise me."
"Karen," Keith said.
"Please, Keith! This doesn't involve you!" Karen replied, "This is between two mothers."
Keith looked at Karen and sighed, walking behind her and toward the doorway, stopping just short of it.
"Karen..." Deb said, "I-I don't know if I can tell Dan to not see Lucas. It's not my place to..."
"Oh, yes it is, Deb," Karen said as she nodded her head, "It most definitely is, because you have been a positive influence in Lucas' life just like Keith." Karen was silent for a moment and then smiled. "D-do you realize that he actually emailed me while I was in Paris and told me that you gave great advice and that...you were almost like a surrogate mom?"
Deb gasped at this statement and shook her head. "I-I never knew that."
"Yep, he said that. And even though I was kind of upset at first it made me realize that...if Lucas ever lost me, he would be in good hands with you by his side." Karen smiled at Deb. "I felt comfort in that fact. That my son would at least have two people on this world that loved him if I were ever to die."
A tear streamed down Deb's face and she smiled at Karen. "Thank you for telling me that," she said quietly, "It means the world to me to hear something like that."
"Don't think I would ask just anyone this, Deborah," Karen said still smiling at her, "If I could do it myself I would but...I just don't have the strength to do anything but grieve. So please, PLEASE promise me that you will tell Dan what I said. It's all I ask of him and you. Please."
Deb looked at Karen and finally relented, nodding slowly. "Yes, I promise. I'll tell him."
Karen closed her eyes and nodded, whispering, "Thank you," and then embracing the woman in front of her.
Keith sighed, realizing that Deb made a promise she knew she could not keep. And as he looked on at the two women, Deb's eyes opened to stare at Dan who only looked back and nodded his head, knowing that, ultimately, the woman had no choice.
* * *
What am I doing, he thought as he looked at the hospital from behind the wheel of his SUV. He truly did not understand why he had left school, left Haley, and had driven several miles to the Tree Hill Hospital. But there he was, sitting there, his keys in hand as he stared blankly at the hospital. What did he hope to do? To see? Somewhere deep within he felt that this was all some bad dream that he was going to wake up from. So, he decided he would just get out of his car and follow along like he always did in his dreams.
The automatic doors opened to Nathan as he walked calmly into the brightly lit lobby of the hospital. He looked around for a moment, his eyes scanning his surroundings. He watched as doctors and nurses made their way casually throughout the lobby, boarding and leaving elevators, speaking with one another over case files and coffee. He looked on as a group of doctors chatted, one of them making a comment that sent the entire group into a fit of quite chuckling.
"May I help you, sir?" a quiet female voice asked.
Nathan looked to his left and noticed a middle-aged blond woman dressed in green scrubs and holding a bundle of files was smiling at him warmly. Her expression changed when she noticed that the young man was seemingly in a daze. "Hon? Are you all right?"
Nathan finally seemed to snap out of his daze and nodded slowly. "I-I'm here to see Lucas Scott," Nathan said suddenly.
"I'm sorry, hon, but I don't handle visitations. If you'd like, I can direct you to..."
"H-he's not alive," Nathan said suddenly, "H-he passed away." Nathan was quiet as the nurse looked at him.
"Oh, I apologize, I had no idea," the nurse said with sincere remorse, "Are you here to...take care of final arrangements?"
Nathan looked at the woman and just nodded.
"All right, I think I can help you, hon," the woman replied and quickly ran toward another nurse that was writing inside of a file. She chatted the woman up for a moment then the blond woman returned with a single file in her hands, studying it as she walked. "Lucas Scott...oh my, God he was that poor boy that was killed last night, wasn't he? I'm so sorry," the nurse said.
Nathan looked at the woman looking at the file. "Can I see him?" Nathan asked.
"I'm sorry hon, but he was a minor. Unless you're a legal guardian you can't see him," the woman responded.
"He's my BROTHER!" Nathan replied in an outburst that shocked even him.
Multiple people stopped what they were doing and stared at the young man that had suddenly yelled at the nurse.
"J-just tell me where he is, please," Nathan pleaded, his eyes getting hot, "Please, please!"
"Hon, he's in the morgue but..."
"And where's the morgue?" Nathan asked cutting her off.
The nurse sighed and shook her head, "I can't tell you that, young man."
"Please, lady," Nathan said, "I have to know. I have to see him. Please?"
The nurse looked at Nathan, sighed again and said quietly, "Head straight to the back. When you see double doors in the next hall, go through those, down the stairs, and to the room at the end of that hall past the elevator. Someone should already be there...I'll give you a head start before I call someone."
"Thank you," Nathan said and began to walk quickly past the nurses and doctors, following the simple instructions that the nurse had given him: to the back of the lobby and into the green colored hall. He looked feverishly for the double doors until he found them and pushed them away. Almost running down the stairs, he ran until he could see the double doors of the dimly lit, white corridor, the paint scuffed off of the doors from the continued collision with hospital stretchers. Passing the elevator, he stopped.
"What am I doing...?" he whispered quietly.
Staring at the doors, he knew that what he might see could change him forever. He knew that, behind those doors, Lucas might be lying there on a table, cut open, exposed for all to see, dead. He knew that he might see his brother in a way that he would have never imagined.
Or maybe not.
Maybe Lucas was simply gone. Whisked away from this earth like so many of this world's good things, maybe he simply disappeared along with them. Without a word or trace, maybe Lucas just left this world like a shadow in the light, leaving behind those that would grieve for his loss.
But maybes and probabilities were not going to answer anything, and Nathan finally made a choice, walking toward the double doors and pushing them away.
There was a man standing in the back of the room, apparently preparing himself for a new task when he noticed the young man walking toward him. "May I help you, sir? People aren't normally supposed to be in morgue."
"I know that and I'm sorry but I'm here for a reason," Nathan said outright, "I need to see Lucas Scott."
The man was noticeably stirred by this request and responded, "I'm sorry, sir, but I highly suggest you wait until the ceremony. He hardly looks remotely decent and..."
"Do you think I give a damn about that?" Nathan yelled, "No! I want to see him! I want to see my brother! Please!"
The mortician looked at the young man and sighed, walking to what looked like massive drawers and grabbed a handle on the fifth row, fourth column. "Sir, are you sure you..."
"Yes, dammit!" Nathan cried.
The mortician shook his head and literally yanked the cooler open in frustration. Inside was a black body bag, noticeably chilled from the frigid temperatures inside the cooler. The mortician walked over to the left side of the bag and placed his gloved hand over the zipper. "God, help me," the man muttered and he unzipped the bag slowly.
"Oh, God. Lucas..." Nathan whispered as he turned away for a moment but then forced himself to face the sight once again, "Oh, man..." The young man did not know what he expected, but when he saw Lucas' pale, lifeless face staring back at him, Nathan realized that there was nothing he could ever do to prepare himself for what he had just seen. He seemed to go numb with fear as he felt the warmth drain from his face. He felt light-headed, unable to stand. He wanted to lean on something but when he realized the closest thing was his brother's resting place, he yelped in fright, backing away from the body.
"Close that up now, Harmon!" a voice yelled from the entrance of the mortuary.
The mortician cursed quietly and zipped the body bag back up and pushed the drawer back into place. "He asked to see his brother and..."
"And you happily obliged, right?" a young, chocolate-skinned female doctor cried, "What the hell were you thinking!? And you!" the woman turned on Nathan, "Who the hell do you think you are? First you cause a commotion in the lobby and hassle one of my nurses and then you barge into the morgue! I have half of mind to..."
"Lay off, okay?" Nathan protested wearily, "I'm sorry, I...I just wanted to see my brother."
"Well are you happy now?" the doctor asked heatedly, "You know, there's a reason we don't allow many people to see their loved ones before a funeral. Just look at you! Even I know a pale white boy when I see one! You look like you've just been stabbed in the heart! My God..." the woman shook her head and grabbed Nathan's arm.
"Let go of me," Nathan said and ripped his arm away from her.
"Fine, but I want you out of this hospital," the doctor said, "I don't care who you are, you're already causing too much drama in a place that has enough of it. Leave, now!"
Nathan looked at the doctor and then nodded and made his way past her and out of the morgue. He walked through the halls and through the lobby, out of the hospital, and into the parking lot of the hospital. He nearly staggered to his car and eventually fell at the driver's side, trembling as he tried desperately to hold in everything that he was feeling.
But he finally broke and Nathan, once a young man that allowed nothing to hurt him, curled up against the door of his vehicle and sobbed quietly, burying his head in shame as his tears wet the sleeves of his pullover.
Why am I crying, Nathan asked himself in thought. Is it because I saw him like that or is it because I finally know...he's really gone?
* * *
The day had come and gone with people slightly on edge after hearing the news that a killer was on the streets, slaughtering innocent young people such as Lucas Scott. During this day, not as many people walked the streets of Tree Hill. Not as many people went window-shopping or took leisurely walks through the park. Not as many people wanted their children outside for fear that someone would snatch them or worse, shoot them in cold-blood.
Although perfectly natural for people to feel so fearful in such stressful times, their fears would no longer be needed. It seems that Ely, after committing his deed, drove far north in an attempt to escape the people that were chasing him. He drove so far and for so long that, by daybreak, he found himself in another county, surrounded by different people.
And when he sobered up, he realized exactly what he had done. When he sobered up, not only did the pain of a major hangover attack his head, but also did the pangs of guilt become a plague upon his heart. He panicked first, then found himself crying, then again panicked for a long time, tears drying upon his face until he saw the gun. If only a bullet were inside, he thought. He could end it all right now. No one would have to know what he did. He would only have to suffer through the fear of inviting death upon himself but...it was better than rotting away in prison, right? And he was going to die anyway, seeing as how he had HIV. If only there was a bullet.
And then Ely had a moment of peace where he realized that everything was going to be okay. He knew that, somehow, someway, everything would turn out all right. He didn't kill that boy. Hell, as far as he could tell, the Scott boy only suffered a flesh wound. He would make it out alive. And as long as the boy lived, what was the worst that could happen? Jail? Right now, any roof over his head was better than how he was living.
So Ely made his decision. He would go to the police and tell them everything: tell them that he was the one that shot the Scott boy with a gun that he stole from a house in Tree Hill several years ago. He expected rough treatment but not too bad because that boy had to have made it out alive.
As he drove up to the Macon County Police Department, Ely sat at the wheel, contemplating what he was about to do. Am I sure, he thought to himself and then nodded positively moments afterward. After all, it was the right thing to do.
Calmly walking toward the building, Ely opened the door and found himself inside the department. He walked slowly toward the front desk and saw as a tall man with a red mustache was looking down at some papers. He finally looked up at Ely.
"You here to make a report?" the man asked gruffly.
"No, sir," Ely said, "I'm here to make a confession."
The red-mustachioed man's features never faltered as he looked at this older man looking up at him. "A confession, huh?" the man said as he reached for a pad of paper and a pencil, "Well, go ahead. Tell me how you smoked too much and drank too much and now you need a place to stay. I'll have someone get you to a cell in a moment."
"No, I..." Ely said, faltering for a moment, "I want to confess to the shooting of a young man in Tree Hill."
The mustachioed man instantly looked up from his note taking, his eyes wide with shock.
"Last night at roughly 10 or so, I shot a young man by the name of Scott. Lu..."
"Lucas Scott?" the mustachioed man asked, finishing Ely's sentence.
"Yeah. Have they put out some sort of APB on me?," Ely asked with pure ignorance, "I'm sorry that I did it. That boy's a good boy. I was just drunk and he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. I swear that if..."
"That boy is dead, sir," the man said sternly, "He died from shock and blood loss due to the gunshot wound that YOU inflicted!"
Ely was instantly silenced by the officer's remark, staring up at the man. "N-no, no that can't be. I just shot him in the side! It was a flesh wound! It..."
"A flesh wound?" the mustachioed man repeated, "Well, it must've been a helluva flesh wound, seeing as how it punctured his kidneys."
"No..." Ely said. He noticed that the mustachioed man was signaling for someone and Ely instantly knew who as two brawny officers walked behind him. "I-I didn't mean it!"
"Well, sir, you just saved us the trouble of coming out to find your scrawny ass! Get this piece of shit out of my sight!" the mustachioed man said, his eyes glaring once more at Ely before he was taken away by the officers.
"No, please! No!" Ely pleaded as he struggled against the officers' strength, but to no avail. "I-I didn't know! I didn't know he died!"
"And if you had known," one of the officers growled quietly, "Would you have come forward?"
Ely stopped struggling as he looked up at the man that asked him the question. He was a man of Latino descent, his black hair slicked back, his sharp, dark eyes piercing through his own. Ely shuddered under this massive man's glare.
"Didn't think so," the same man said and continued to drag Ely off to the back where the man would spend the rest of the day in a cell until he would be transferred back to Tree Hill. And Ely Donalsen, even with his strict military training still intact, could only fall into a corner of the cell where he wept the rest of the day away amidst the taunts of the inmates.
* * *
As with every day, evening eventually came to the small town of Tree Hill, except something was notably different about the town. The town that had wound down the days in many nights past had a somber air about it this evening. The most noticeable sign of this difference could be found at Keith's garage where there was no one in sight. Always a place of lively conversations and boisterous men bragging about their cars, the garage was dead in the night, save for the yellow tape reading "CRIME SCENE DO NOT PASS" flapping lightly in the wind.
Another place that lacked its normal flood of people was Karen's Café, its darkened windows a clear sign that something was amiss in this town.
Many people followed their normal routines by closing shop for the evening, but normal routines seemed sluggish as people constantly looked at one another knowingly. Those that were nearby would look over at the garage and shake their heads. Others would drive past the garage, stop, and then drive on. Still, others would simply walk right behind the wind swept yellow tape, say a prayer, and leave.
One such person happened to do just that as she approached the garage. But she went beyond the tape and stepped over it, noticing a dim light inside the garage. Walking calmly toward the door, she pushed it open.
Keith was sitting in a chair overlooking the site where his nephew had taken his final breaths. A green beer bottle in hand, Keith sniffled and sighed, taking the bottle to his lips and allowing a rush of the burning liquid to enter his mouth and run down his esophagus. When he heard the door creak open, he immediately jumped from the chair.
"Mr. Scott, it's okay! It's me, Haley!" Haley said quickly. She recognized how on edge the man was and realized it may have been a bad idea for her to even come. "I'm sorry, I'll..."
"No, Haley, come back," Keith said, his voice slurred, "I need some company. Please stay with me."
Haley was unsure whether she should stay with Keith in his current state. Although she knew that he was harmless, she wasn't so sure she wanted to bear witness to his breakdown. She had a hard enough time dealing with her own pain, let alone the pain of other people. After Nathan left, she had to make her way back to class where she promptly fell into another fit of tears, which granted her the right of being excused for the rest of the day. Of course, without Nathan to take her home, Haley opted to walk, not wanting to speak with anyone about her ordeal. No, Haley needed Haley time and even if it gave her blisters on her feet she was going to get that time.
And so she did.
For five and half hours, Haley did nothing but walk around Tree Hill, thinking and looking. Reminiscing about her time with Lucas and sobbing after thinking about the last words she had ever uttered to Lucas. She tried desperately to shift focus on better times and succeeded by thinking about grade school, school plays, their first kiss, their vow to stay friends forever. Then she thought back to when they talked about where they wanted to go to college, their futures, their dreams.
Now...
"Okay," Haley said quietly as she shut the door behind her and walked slowly toward Keith. She watched as Keith grabbed a chair from beside him and slid it over toward Haley.
"Have a seat, Haley," Keith slurred. He chuckled and then said, "God, I must look like a slob to you. I'm sorry."
"No, you don't," Haley said, "And even if you did, you have every right to be."
Keith looked at Haley, his head slightly shifting from side to side as he stared at her. "Thank you," he finally said as he turned to stare at the floor once again.
Silence reigned over the garage for some time before Keith finally spoke up.
"I, um...I held Lucas right here just as he was taking his final breaths," Keith said quietly, "He, uh...he pleaded to me not leave him. And by God..." Keith smiled, shaking his head, "I didn't leave that boy for anything." Keith took another swig of his beer bottle.
Haley quietly looked at Keith and then at the spot he was referring to. Although there was no more trace of blood on the pavement, for some reason, Haley could clearly envision the moment in her head and it almost made her physically ill.
"But even worse than watching my own nephew die in my arms...is to have to give the news to his mother," Keith continued. "God, she loves him so much. And for him to be taken away like this it's just...just..." Keith was stricken with speechlessness and simply stood up and without a word, threw the beer bottle into the distant wall of the garage, watching as it shattered into dozens of pieces.
Haley winced at this action but not by much. Her nerves were already shot so a shattered bottle against a wall, however sudden, was not nearly enough to phase her. She stared at the wall, and then looked up at Keith who was looking at the wall as well.
Keith placed his hands over his face and groaned. "Dammit..." he muttered, "I'm sorry, Haley." But his apology was met with the young woman standing up, walking to him, and quietly embracing his frame.
"I've never really got to know you, Mr. Scott," Haley whispered, "And I could kick myself because you were always an important part of Lucas's life. I hope that I can help you and Karen through this."
Keith looked down at the young girl and embraced her back, his eyes closed. "Thank you," he said quietly.
* * *
"Where have you been all day?"
Nathan sighed as he looked over to the source of the voice. His father sat in a chair but instantly stood up and walked toward Dan.
"I was worried about you, Nathan," Dan said as he made his way toward his remaining son, "I heard you had left school..." but as Dan attempted to embrace his son he was met with hostility as Nathan pushed his away.
"Don't touch me..." Nathan said quietly in a trembling voice.
Dan was shocked by his son's actions but noticed that the young man's face was pale and that his expression was blank. Not even anger was portrayed in his voice when he was told to back away. But even worse was the smell of alcohol that emanated from his son's body.
"Have you been drinking," Dan asked heatedly.
Nathan shook his head as he began to make his way toward the stairs only to be stopped by his father's strong hand. Nathan was jerked back in front of his father.
"Answer me, Nathan!" Dan asked, "Were you drinking?" Dan looked at his son, but he knew the answer. It was as clear as day. "This must be a new level of stupid for you, Nathan! Drinking and driving, not caring about yourself or anyone else, for that matter! How far are you willing to push my buttons!?"
"Just stop..." Nathan said quietly, not maintaining eye contact with Dan.
"Stop? Stop?! Oh, I'll tell you when I'll stop, God dammit! I'll stop when you finally get your act together! I'll stop when you start thinking about other people instead of your damn self all of the time! I don't want to have to lose another one of my son's, Nathan!"
Nathan looked up at his father at this comment, a look of anger clear across his face. "Like you ever gave a damn about Lucas, you son of a..." but Nathan held his tongue on that insult, "Here you are, acting like you're some grieving parent when all you ever gave Lucas was grief. Hell, you did it to me, too but at least you gave me a roof over my head!"
"Damn right," Dan exclaimed, "And you should be grateful!"
"For what!?" Nathan asked heatedly and scoffed. He began walking around the area in which they stood. "Grateful for everything that you bought me? Grateful for the stuff that you got for me and mom? Grateful for all of the vacations and the cars and the CDs and all of that other shit!?"
Dan was shocked to hear his son curse right in front of him, his anger rising, his patience falling, but he continued to listen.
"Should I be grateful that you neglected your other son to take care of me and mom? Or...should I be grateful that I at least got to know Lucas...a person not poisoned by you?" Nathan spat angrily, "I think I should hate you. I should hate you for everything you've put me through. I should hate you for everything you put mom through..."
"Nathan..." Dan tried.
"...I should hate you for keeping me from ever getting to know my brother," Nathan interrupted, "And I do...I hate you so much."
Dan's anger instantly dissipated to a mix of pain and sorrow at his son's words, "Nate..."
"Please!!" Nathan yelled, suddenly breaking down, "Just...just shut up! I hate you!! I hate you for ever keeping me from my brother!! I hate you for everything that you've done to make his life a living hell! I hate you for choosing me over him!!"
Dan could only look at his son.
Nathan looked up at his father with tears streaming down his face, "And why, huh? HUH!? Why me? Why am I so special? What have I ever done to deserve everything and leave him behind with nothing!? He had so much more than I probably will ever have and..." Nathan sobbed, covering his eyes with a trembling hand as he turned away from his father.
"Nathan...son," Dan said quietly, "I know this must be hard on you but...son, you've got to stay strong."
Nathan chuckled at his father's statement. "Strong, huh?" he repeated, "Well I guess I'm not strong enough, huh? I couldn't even keep it together when I saw him today."
"What?" Dan said, his eyes filled with even more concern than before, "What do you mean?"
"Yeah, I, uh...I saw him at the hospital, down in the morgue with the rest of the stiffs," Nathan said grimly, "God, dad you should've seen him. He was...he looked so...dead."
"Nathan," Dan said walking closer to his son, "Son, why the hell did you go there? You shouldn't have done that."
"And I know that sounds stupid, right?" Nathan went on, ignoring his father, "But, um...he just looked so empty. I mean..." Nathan felt as if another torrent of sobs would attack him but he held it back, blowing out a gust of air from his mouth, "...he was so alive and to see him like that, it just...it just blew my mind."
Dan could only stand and listen to his son describe the reality of death, something that Dan never hoped Nathan would see.
"He was so pale...and he looked so cold..." Nathan whispered.
"Nathan..." Dan started but was interrupted by a closing door from the back. He looked at his son once more and then rushed to find Deb walking in from the kitchen with a tired look on her face. "Deb, it's late..."
"I don't give a damn, Dan," Deb said wearily, "I just got back from Karen's. She's a wreck and so am I."
"Well, our son needs both of us," Dan said as he pointed to behind him, "So unless you're too tired to help me out here I guess he can go right on suffering, huh?"
"Nathan?" Deb asked, her tired expression replaced with all of the worry of any concerned mother. She quickly walked past Dan, dropping her purse on the table. "Nathan? Sweetie?" Deb said as she stopped in front of her son, "Honey, are you all right?"
Nathan only looked up at his mother with tearful eyes and slowly embraced her, whispering a weak, "No," as a reply.
"God, Nathan," Deb said, noticing that her only son had been drinking and, no doubt, driving as well. However, all she did was place a gentle hand through his dark brown hair. "It's going to be all right, honey. It's going to be all right."
Dan looked at the two from the doorway of the kitchen and sighed, turning his eyes downward.
* * *
Deb slowly walked down the stairs and sighed as she made her way to the bottom, noticing that Dan was sitting on the sofa in the living room.
Dan looked up at his wife with concerned eyes. "How's Nathan?"
"I had to give him something to help him sleep, Dan. How do you think?" Deb replied shortly. She turned to head into the kitchen.
"Wait," Dan said as he quickly stood up from the sofa, "Deb, please don't do this. We're just starting to mend the bridges. From a near divorce to making love in our bedroom once again, Deb...we can't let this thing destroy us."
Deb turned to face her husband once again. "I'll admit that we have come a long way, Dan. And I wish to God that this didn't affect us this way. But I've come to realize that you're still the same. You haven't changed, I just allowed myself to believe you have."
"Deb, please," Dan protested.
"No, Dan!" Deb replied heatedly, "You just said it yourself, 'can't let this THING destroy us.' And what exactly is this THING to you anyway?"
"Deb, you know I feel terrible about all of this," Dan replied.
"Oh, I know you do, despite that transparent façade you put on earlier," Deb said, "The question is whether or not you have the guts to admit that to yourself as well as to everyone else."
Dan looked at his wife, "Deb..."
"Dan!" Deb barked angrily, "I am not going to stand here and let you string me along like this! Stop with the games! Stop with the lies! I want to know..." Deb walked toward her husband and grabbed his arms, "...what are you thinking? What are you feeling? Really?"
Dan looked at his wife who only gave him a hardened stare in return. Although he was ready to admit all of his feelings, his mouth remained closed.
Deb dropped her hands from Dan's arms and shook her head. "You know something, Dan? I'm sick of you. Sick of you, sick of you tearing people down, sick of you passing judgment on everyone but yourself!"
Dan remained silent.
"I even tried to defend you to Karen when she said that you were to not go near Lucas' funeral service," Deb added.
"What?" Dan said suddenly, "She can't do that! I have a right to be there!"
"Oh, really?" Deb said, "And what gives you that right, huh? You expect to have no part in the boy's life yet when he DIES you decide to finally be there!? How twisted is that, Dan?"
"She cannot do that to me, Deb!" Dan said, "I deserve..."
"You deserve NOTHING!!" Deb screamed viciously, causing Dan to become silent once more, "You don't even deserve the title of being Lucas' father!! Keith does!! Keith had to watch him die in his arms and had to tell the police what happened and had to tell Karen what happened all while Lucas' blood soaked his body!!"
"Oh, God..." Dan whispered as he placed a hand over his eyes.
"Do you understand, Dan!?" Deb continued, "People are suffering and will continue to suffer for a long time! And what are you doing?"
Dan looked at his wife from under his hand. His eyes were clearly ready to shed tears.
"You probably haven't even made a phone call to anyone," the woman said quietly, "Because you're Dan Scott...the best damn car salesman, husband, and father in Tree Hill...right?"
Dan could only look at his wife, shaking his head, mouthing the word, "no" over and over again.
"Yes! Yes, Dan! That's exactly what you are!" Deb yelled, "And if that's what helps you sleep at night, then you can right on believing it...but I'm not gonna be around to share it with you."
"Deb, please..." Dan said quietly.
"I'm going to fix myself a sandwich and then I going to sleep in the guest room," Deb said as she turned toward the kitchen, walking away from her husband, "I don't give a damn what you do."
Dan watched as his wife walked into the kitchen, pushing the doors away, and watched as they closed behind her, blocking her from his sight. Dan sighed long and deeply, looking up at the ceiling and finally made a decision. He began taking the steps two-by-two.
He was going for a drive.
* * *
Tree Hill Hospital. "10:00" read clearly on the digital interface of Dan's dashboard as he drove into the parking lot of the hospital. What the man did not realize was that he had parked in the exact same spot his son Nathan had parked in hours earlier. Dan had felt some force bring him here. He did not know why or even cared to why he was here. All he knew was that he wanted to see...
"...Lucas," Dan whispered as he stepped out of his vehicle and closed the door behind him. He did not even set the alarm, something that had become second nature to him over the course of five months of owning his brand new gray Mustang. And as he walked across the street, he only focused on the dual double doors ahead, oblivious to the fact that, if any cars had passed, he would have been an easy target.
"I would like to see my son. He...he died. His name was Lucas Scott," Dan managed to get out.
"The name was Lucas Scott? Oh, here er djdfo dsasjrh..." was all that Dan could decipher; the rest seemed to run together into nonsensical noise just as his trip into the hospital seemed to be the makings of a dream. He couldn't remember actually making his way past all of the doctors or nurses nor could he tell whether or not he was walking or floating behind this woman that was leading him to the mortuary. But as he stopped in front of a grouping of drawers with the woman facing him, everything seemed to come back.
"Take your time," the woman said and walked away, leaving Dan standing above Lucas' body. He was still looking at the wall where the woman stood until he finally realized no one was there. His eyes focused downward toward the blond-haired young man lying before him.
"Oh, God..." Dan whispered as reality hit, "Oh, my God...why? Why did this happen to you?"
It almost seemed as if Dan's silence warranted a response from the young man lying in front of him, but Dan broke the silence with a deep sigh as he placed his hand over his face as if trying to wash the visual externally from his mind. But when his hand was removed from his face, Lucas' unmoving face was there to greet him again.
Dan's hand remained in the air but then slowly fell upon Lucas' forehead, gently stroking the dirty blond hair upon the teen's head that was still soft, still clean. Dan traced the back of his hand softly over Lucas' face, caressing the young man's forever hardened features.
"You're so cold," Dan choked as he looked down at Lucas, "God, you're so cold..."
Lucas replied with silence.
"I'm so sorry..." Dan whispered as his caressing hand along with his entire body began to tremble, "I'm so sorry that I never..." but Dan's words cut off with a loud sob that racked his body, "GOD! Why am I doing this!? I didn't know you! You didn't know me! We never..." but Dan was quieted by another sob that forced him reclaim his caressing hand, and place it over his mouth. "Why am I doing this..." Dan whispered once more and finally broke as he slowly fell on top of his son's chest, his head close to Lucas'.
"Why...?" Dan pleaded to some invisible presence, tears streaming down his cheeks and onto Lucas' bare, cold chest, "...why?"
And Dan stood there, over his son, crying quietly as he embraced the young man's silent, unmoving form.
It was after such a moment that Keith sniffled, wiping his nose free of mucus with the back of his sleeve from crying so much, desperately trying to be strong. But as he pushed away from the chair he sat in, he felt odd. His neck and shoulders ached, his head spinning. Was it a headache? How long had he slept? Was he sick from fatigue?
Keith sighed and decided to take it slowly as he lifted himself from the chair, standing slightly hunched over Karen's bed, looking down at the woman whose face was wet and red from crying in her sleep. Her face, although still contorted into a painful expression, seemed softer than earlier that morning as if the night's sleep had swept some of the pain away.
The man looked down at her for a prolonged moment then opted to retire to the restroom to relieve himself. Taking slow, steady steps toward the door leading to the hallway, Keith quietly slipped out of Karen's room and continued to make his way quietly toward the white and peach bathroom. The warm rays of the sun washed over Keith's face as he stepped into the softly lit bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he walked over to the toilet and lifted the seat then proceeded to unzip his zipper.
When he finished, he flushed the toilet and walked toward the sink and stared at his image in the mirror below the light fixture. Although he had attempted to clean himself earlier, he could still point out clear traces of Lucas' blood smeared faintly across his left cheek where he had embraced his nephew. Keith immediately turned on the water and, reaching for a nearby washcloth, prepared to wipe the blood away. As he drowned the navy blue fabric in the steaming hot water, Keith looked at himself closer in the mirror; a man with baggy circles under his eyes, unruly stubble, and a perpetual grief-ridden expression stared grimly back at him. Keith looked down and squeezed the washcloth free of excess water and turned the running water off. Taking the washcloth to his cheek, Keith scrubbed viciously with the blue fabric, desperately trying to rid himself of the stain on his person. He didn't want Karen to have to see it anymore. He didn't want to see it anymore.
"What are you doing?" a light voice asked from the doorway, startling Keith. He turned with the hot cloth still pressed to his face and saw Karen standing in the doorway. She had pushed the slightly ajar door all the way open to expose Keith to the hallway and to her sight. Her face was red and wet with strands of her dark brown hair strewn across her forehead.
Keith looked at her for a while and finally replied, "I-I was washing my face...I hope that's all right."
Karen looked at Keith for a while and finally nodded, her eyelids fluttering as she did. "Of course, yeah," she said as she put a hand over her face and groaned, "God, how could I be so rude? I just...barge in here."
"No, sweetie, no," Keith said as he dropped the washcloth on the sink and walked to Karen, taking her in his arms, "I don't care. What I want to know is how are you? God, what am I saying...?" Keith shook his head, "I'm such an ass."
"No, no," Karen whispered as she looked away from Keith for a moment, "No, you're not. I..." but Karen simply trailed off. Looking up at Keith once again she said, "It's all right."
Keith looked back at Karen, noticing that even though her voice held some semblance of feeling, her face was blank, looking back at him with blank eyes as if someone had stolen her soul. Keith pushed the strands of hair away from her face and let his hand trail down her cheek gently.
"I...I thought you were Lucas," Karen said abruptly still looking into Keith's eyes, "I thought that..."
"It's okay," Keith said and hugged the small woman, "I'm sorry you have to go through this."
"No, it's just that...it's just that he used to wake up at around this time every morning, you know?" Karen continued grasping tightly to Keith, "And I thought that maybe I could see him again."
Keith closed his eyes, finding it difficult to hold back his tears for Karen's sake. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
"Stop it!" Karen cried, "Stop saying you're sorry! I'm sorry! I shouldn't be doing this. I should be..." Karen sobbed and dug her face into Keith's shoulder, "God! Why can't I stop crying!?" Karen screamed.
Keith only embraced the woman tighter, stroking her head gently.
As this was happening, the soft ring of the doorbell sounded in their ears.
Keith opened his eyes just as they were beginning to tear up and he lifted his head from Karen's. "Let me get that," Keith said softly to Karen, "Whoever it is, I'll tell them to go away, all right?"
Karen lifted her head from Keith's shoulder and looked at him with teary eyes. She nodded wearily.
"Go back to bed," Keith continued, "I'll bring you something to eat."
"I'm not hungry," Karen replied softly through light sniffles, "But I'll go back to bed." And Karen turned her back on Keith and slowly made her way to her bedroom, shutting the door slightly. Keith watched as she put her hands over her face and stood over her bed, sobbing quietly and he put a fist over his mouth to stifle his own sobs.
The ring of the doorbell snapped him into action and he briskly walked to the door. Approaching the door, he nearly ripped the door off the hinges and barked, "What!?" His features, angered, pained, and twisted softened when he noticed his sister-in-law standing at the door. She had taken a step back out of fright but her face was clearly that of a woman in anguish.
"Deb," Keith said softly, "God, I'm sorry..." but he was silenced when Deb quickly walked toward him and embraced him as best she could.
"I'm so sorry, Keith," Deb whispered quietly, "God, I'm so sorry."
Keith's hands had been at his sides when Deb first embraced him but they finally managed to embrace the woman back. His eyes reverted from shock to a sullen state as he realized why she was here.
"Thank you," was all he managed to say.
* * *
When her eyes opened she had, for some unknown reason, felt at ease. For some reason, all cares and worries seemed lifted from her form as she looked up at the ceiling, harshly lit with the fluorescent lighting mounted in the center of the white surface. Her eyes looked around the room and soon she came to realize that she was in the nurse's office. But what caught her eye was the young man sitting in the chair across from her, his face ever bright and cheerful, his toothy grin gleaming even in the painful light of the room.
It was him...
"Lucas?" she whispered.
Nathan looked up from the floor to his girlfriend who had fallen unconscious just shortly after the news of Lucas' death. He did not know what to do. One moment she was crying profusely in his arms and the next she made a gasp and then fainted. For a split second, Nathan feared that Haley had died right there in his arms, prompting him to nearly scream her name in the heat of the moment in an attempt to rouse her. Fortunately, the teacher from their class reassured him and instructed him to bring her to the nurse's office.
So he did, carrying her in his strong arms as he raced to the nurse's office. Kicking the door open, Nathan cried in a worried voice, "Sh-she fainted. I-I don't know what to do! Please, help her!"
The rotund nurse looked at Nathan and nodded. "Place her here," she said, pointing to a cushioned sofa, "She will be awake sooner or later. Just go back to class and..."
"No, I'm staying with her," Nathan said.
Of course, the nurse could have forced him out of her office, but considering that she knew of the circumstances she gave the young man a bit of leeway, nodded, and left him to watch over the young woman, eventually bringing a chair for him to sit on.
"Haley?" Nathan said as he rushed to her side, "Haley, it's me. It's Nathan."
Haley's eyes opened and quickly looked over at the source of the voice. "N-Nathan? Wh-where's Lucas?"
Nathan looked at Haley for a long time, his face filled with agony for his girlfriend. "Hales...don't you remember?"
Haley sat up, staring at Nathan a bit longer before finally realizing what meant and she sighed, her eyes trailing away from Nathan's to the floor. "But I saw him...it was so real," she whispered.
Nathan looked at Haley, taking her hand in his. He did not know what to say except, "I'm sorry."
Haley still continued to look down at the floor but replied, "I saw him. He was sitting right where you were, smiling like...everything was going to be okay." Haley looked up at Nathan, her eyes noticeably red and watery and asked, "...but everything's not okay, is it? He's really gone, isn't he?"
Nathan looked directly into Haley's eyes. He did not know the answer to her question. Hell, he didn't know the answer to any of the questions that were swimming in his head: why did Lucas have to die? Why does Haley have to suffer? Why does he feel so...guilty?
"Nathan?" Haley whispered.
Nathan grasped Haley's hand tighter and said, "I don't know, Haley. But I'm sure as hell gonna find out," and with that, Nathan let go of Haley's hand, stood up and head for the door, "I don't know when I'll be back," Nathan said to Haley looking at the door, "But promise me you'll take care of yourself."
"Nathan, where are you going?" Haley asked, "I want to come with you."
"No, Hales," Nathan said firmly, "This is something I've gotta do on my own...okay?"
"Nathan, please..." Haley sobbed but was answered by Nathan opening the door and shutting it quietly behind him. Putting a hand over her face she sobbed quietly, her heart aching and her head spinning over the recent events.
Nathan stood outside of the door, leaning against the surface with his eyes closed. Opening them once again and with a determined expression, he made his way toward the school's exit and toward his car.
* * *
"Brooke, I'm fine, okay?" Peyton yelled as she pushed past her friend and made her way into the girls' lavatory, "I-I don't need you holding my hand anymore."
"I'm just doing what I think is best, Peyton," Brooke protested heatedly, "You just found out that possibly the greatest love of your life is dead. Dead, Peyton! Even I realize how deep that is and he was my ex!"
"Well good for you, Brooke!" Peyton cried, "Congratulations! You got to him first! How was he? Was he everything you ever imagined or more? I know you two didn't have a lot in common but at least you dated!"
"Peyton..." Brooke started.
"No! NO!" Peyton yelled, cutting Brooke off, "You don't get to speak now! Do you realize how much time I wasted with Lucas? All of the things that I said to him yesterday, accusing him! And all he wanted to do was love me!" Peyton laughed, a tear streaming down her face, "LOVE ME! That's all he ever wanted from me!"
Brooke was silent, looking down at the floor.
"I blame myself for a lot of things that went down between me and Lucas," Peyton continued, "But I also...blame you, Brooke."
Brooke instantly looked up at her best friend. "Peyton, you can't be serious," she protested.
"I am," Peyton said, wiping tears from her cheeks, "I am serious. If you hadn't toyed with him for so long with your petty insecurities and your stupid façade, trying to make him think you were interested in what he loved about this life then maybe...maybe he and I could have actually had a chance."
"You shut your mouth," Brooke fumed, "You were the one that kissed him and started everything! You were the one that helped wrecked things! I'm not saying that Lucas wasn't at fault either but..."
"But he's dead now," Peyton coldly stating, cutting Brooke off, "Lucas is dead and there is no one to blame but ourselves for the way we left things. But I...blame...you," Peyton said, emphasizing her statement pointing her finger at Brooke, "I blame you for ever getting involved with Lucas. For ever making me...hold back my feelings for him so you, of all people, could shack up with yet another guy."
"Shut up," Brooke whispered.
"So you could find 'love' in probably the best guy in this entire town and then dump him because you're to insecure and too selfish to ever consider someone else's feelings over your own!" Peyton screamed, "I blame you, you bitch! You slutty, selfish bitch!!"
Brooke stared at Peyton who, after her rant, fell to the floor, sobbing deeply. As she looked down at her friend, her eyes closed and she turned and walked away, leaving Peyton on the floor to grieve alone.
* * *
"I saw the article on the newspaper," Deb said quietly to Keith as he let her in, "I-I just couldn't believe it." Deb walked to sofa and pulled off her coat, laying it gently across the arm of the chair. She looked around for a moment, trying to see if Karen was around then turned to face Keith.
Keith shut the door quietly and sighed. "I haven't seen it yet," Keith replied as he leaned against the door, "I don't think I want to, either." The man looked down at the floor, his head heavy and aching. He was still exhausted.
"God," Deb said, "I shouldn't have come here. I have no business being here at all. Look at you, you're exhausted." Deb began to gather her coat, "I'll come back another day."
"Deb," Keith said, "If I didn't want you here, I wouldn't have let you in so..." Keith trailed off as he pushed himself away from the door and took the blond woman's coat, "Stay, all right?"
Deb looked up into Keith's tired eyes, her eyes watering just by seeing her brother-in-law's pain seep through so readily. Never before had she seen him so distraught. He was always a pillar of strength in her eyes, despite his past problems and that image had never waned once. Yet now...
"Can I get you something?" Deb asked, "Coffee, tea, some food? You and Karen need to eat."
"I'm all right," Keith assured his sister-in-law, "Karen is who I'm worried about right now. She needs someone with her. Someone strong and..."
"She's got you," Deb said, "You're here to support her and make sure she's all right, Keith whether you realize that or not. That's all she really needs right now."
"But, Deb..." but Keith was quieted with a shake of Deb's head.
"I know that you and she have had some past problems, Keith," Deb replied, "But you've got to understand that none of that matters to her right now. You should be here right now serving as her anchor. I can help you but you've got to be the one to help her the most, okay?"
"It's just," Keith began and sighed deeply in order to compose himself, "I'm afraid she'll blame me like with the car accident. God, I don't know if I can take that again."
"Keith, if she does then so be it," Deb said taking hold of the man's arms, "She just lost her son. I wouldn't care if the woman blamed me as long as she had something to hold on to." Deb looked into Keith's eyes, "No parent is ever supposed to outlive their child. And it's painful to..." Deb sighed, her voice shaking.
"I'm sorry," Keith replied quietly, "I know what you're saying."
"Good," Deb replied and wiped away her tears, "Because now is not the time to be worrying about who she'll point fingers at. Lucas was her life and without him...I just don't know."
Keith nodded and turned away but then something hit him. "Dan! Does Dan...?"
Deb looked darkly at Keith and let go of his arms. "Of course he does," Deb said as she turned away from Keith.
"How is he?" Keith asked watching as Deb walked further away from him, "H-how did he take it?"
"Keith, no offense," Deb began, "But if Dan was truly concerned about Lucas don't you think he would be here with me now?"
Keith sensed the pain in Deb's voice underneath the anger and he even felt the anger rise inside of himself as well.
"You know," Deb continued, "I always thought that even though Dan treated Lucas as if he never existed, somewhere deep inside that man truly cared about him. He showed me that when Lucas was involved in that car accident and how he carried him to the hospital. But when we found out well...he was just so callous to the fact that his son was dead. His SON, Keith!"
Keith was silent, shaking his head at the fact that his brother could act so heartless.
"And even if this is some stupid façade," Deb continued, "Why doesn't he at least have the balls to admit to me or to anyone, for that matter, that he truly loved Lucas? That he truly loved his..."
"His son?" a voice said from the back of the living room and both Deb and Keith turned to find Karen standing in a doorway leading to the hall. "Lucas was not Dan Scott's son. As far as I'm concerned, Keith proved to be a better father than Dan would ever hope to be."
"Karen, honey, go back to bed, please," Keith said.
"No, this has to be said," Karen said as she walked closer to the two people, "Because I want the both of you to hear me out." Karen faced Deb with a hardened face and said, "I appreciate everything you've done for both me and Lucas, Deborah, but I want you to get one fact straight: Dan was never Lucas' father. He meant nothing to him and he means nothing to me!"
"Karen..." Deb started.
"Please, just listen," Karen said, "Because I want you to know that Dan...he was never a part of Lucas' life. All he did was sit by and watched as we struggled along, never doing anything to help. And you, of all people, a woman not even related to my son, helped us. Now he's dead."
Keith and Deb were silent as they watched Karen struggle to maintain her composure.
"My son is dead and Dan does nothing! Big surprise!" Karen yells with a twisted smile of grief on her face, "So when you go back to your husband I want you to tell him to stay the hell away from my son. Promise me."
"Karen," Keith said.
"Please, Keith! This doesn't involve you!" Karen replied, "This is between two mothers."
Keith looked at Karen and sighed, walking behind her and toward the doorway, stopping just short of it.
"Karen..." Deb said, "I-I don't know if I can tell Dan to not see Lucas. It's not my place to..."
"Oh, yes it is, Deb," Karen said as she nodded her head, "It most definitely is, because you have been a positive influence in Lucas' life just like Keith." Karen was silent for a moment and then smiled. "D-do you realize that he actually emailed me while I was in Paris and told me that you gave great advice and that...you were almost like a surrogate mom?"
Deb gasped at this statement and shook her head. "I-I never knew that."
"Yep, he said that. And even though I was kind of upset at first it made me realize that...if Lucas ever lost me, he would be in good hands with you by his side." Karen smiled at Deb. "I felt comfort in that fact. That my son would at least have two people on this world that loved him if I were ever to die."
A tear streamed down Deb's face and she smiled at Karen. "Thank you for telling me that," she said quietly, "It means the world to me to hear something like that."
"Don't think I would ask just anyone this, Deborah," Karen said still smiling at her, "If I could do it myself I would but...I just don't have the strength to do anything but grieve. So please, PLEASE promise me that you will tell Dan what I said. It's all I ask of him and you. Please."
Deb looked at Karen and finally relented, nodding slowly. "Yes, I promise. I'll tell him."
Karen closed her eyes and nodded, whispering, "Thank you," and then embracing the woman in front of her.
Keith sighed, realizing that Deb made a promise she knew she could not keep. And as he looked on at the two women, Deb's eyes opened to stare at Dan who only looked back and nodded his head, knowing that, ultimately, the woman had no choice.
* * *
What am I doing, he thought as he looked at the hospital from behind the wheel of his SUV. He truly did not understand why he had left school, left Haley, and had driven several miles to the Tree Hill Hospital. But there he was, sitting there, his keys in hand as he stared blankly at the hospital. What did he hope to do? To see? Somewhere deep within he felt that this was all some bad dream that he was going to wake up from. So, he decided he would just get out of his car and follow along like he always did in his dreams.
The automatic doors opened to Nathan as he walked calmly into the brightly lit lobby of the hospital. He looked around for a moment, his eyes scanning his surroundings. He watched as doctors and nurses made their way casually throughout the lobby, boarding and leaving elevators, speaking with one another over case files and coffee. He looked on as a group of doctors chatted, one of them making a comment that sent the entire group into a fit of quite chuckling.
"May I help you, sir?" a quiet female voice asked.
Nathan looked to his left and noticed a middle-aged blond woman dressed in green scrubs and holding a bundle of files was smiling at him warmly. Her expression changed when she noticed that the young man was seemingly in a daze. "Hon? Are you all right?"
Nathan finally seemed to snap out of his daze and nodded slowly. "I-I'm here to see Lucas Scott," Nathan said suddenly.
"I'm sorry, hon, but I don't handle visitations. If you'd like, I can direct you to..."
"H-he's not alive," Nathan said suddenly, "H-he passed away." Nathan was quiet as the nurse looked at him.
"Oh, I apologize, I had no idea," the nurse said with sincere remorse, "Are you here to...take care of final arrangements?"
Nathan looked at the woman and just nodded.
"All right, I think I can help you, hon," the woman replied and quickly ran toward another nurse that was writing inside of a file. She chatted the woman up for a moment then the blond woman returned with a single file in her hands, studying it as she walked. "Lucas Scott...oh my, God he was that poor boy that was killed last night, wasn't he? I'm so sorry," the nurse said.
Nathan looked at the woman looking at the file. "Can I see him?" Nathan asked.
"I'm sorry hon, but he was a minor. Unless you're a legal guardian you can't see him," the woman responded.
"He's my BROTHER!" Nathan replied in an outburst that shocked even him.
Multiple people stopped what they were doing and stared at the young man that had suddenly yelled at the nurse.
"J-just tell me where he is, please," Nathan pleaded, his eyes getting hot, "Please, please!"
"Hon, he's in the morgue but..."
"And where's the morgue?" Nathan asked cutting her off.
The nurse sighed and shook her head, "I can't tell you that, young man."
"Please, lady," Nathan said, "I have to know. I have to see him. Please?"
The nurse looked at Nathan, sighed again and said quietly, "Head straight to the back. When you see double doors in the next hall, go through those, down the stairs, and to the room at the end of that hall past the elevator. Someone should already be there...I'll give you a head start before I call someone."
"Thank you," Nathan said and began to walk quickly past the nurses and doctors, following the simple instructions that the nurse had given him: to the back of the lobby and into the green colored hall. He looked feverishly for the double doors until he found them and pushed them away. Almost running down the stairs, he ran until he could see the double doors of the dimly lit, white corridor, the paint scuffed off of the doors from the continued collision with hospital stretchers. Passing the elevator, he stopped.
"What am I doing...?" he whispered quietly.
Staring at the doors, he knew that what he might see could change him forever. He knew that, behind those doors, Lucas might be lying there on a table, cut open, exposed for all to see, dead. He knew that he might see his brother in a way that he would have never imagined.
Or maybe not.
Maybe Lucas was simply gone. Whisked away from this earth like so many of this world's good things, maybe he simply disappeared along with them. Without a word or trace, maybe Lucas just left this world like a shadow in the light, leaving behind those that would grieve for his loss.
But maybes and probabilities were not going to answer anything, and Nathan finally made a choice, walking toward the double doors and pushing them away.
There was a man standing in the back of the room, apparently preparing himself for a new task when he noticed the young man walking toward him. "May I help you, sir? People aren't normally supposed to be in morgue."
"I know that and I'm sorry but I'm here for a reason," Nathan said outright, "I need to see Lucas Scott."
The man was noticeably stirred by this request and responded, "I'm sorry, sir, but I highly suggest you wait until the ceremony. He hardly looks remotely decent and..."
"Do you think I give a damn about that?" Nathan yelled, "No! I want to see him! I want to see my brother! Please!"
The mortician looked at the young man and sighed, walking to what looked like massive drawers and grabbed a handle on the fifth row, fourth column. "Sir, are you sure you..."
"Yes, dammit!" Nathan cried.
The mortician shook his head and literally yanked the cooler open in frustration. Inside was a black body bag, noticeably chilled from the frigid temperatures inside the cooler. The mortician walked over to the left side of the bag and placed his gloved hand over the zipper. "God, help me," the man muttered and he unzipped the bag slowly.
"Oh, God. Lucas..." Nathan whispered as he turned away for a moment but then forced himself to face the sight once again, "Oh, man..." The young man did not know what he expected, but when he saw Lucas' pale, lifeless face staring back at him, Nathan realized that there was nothing he could ever do to prepare himself for what he had just seen. He seemed to go numb with fear as he felt the warmth drain from his face. He felt light-headed, unable to stand. He wanted to lean on something but when he realized the closest thing was his brother's resting place, he yelped in fright, backing away from the body.
"Close that up now, Harmon!" a voice yelled from the entrance of the mortuary.
The mortician cursed quietly and zipped the body bag back up and pushed the drawer back into place. "He asked to see his brother and..."
"And you happily obliged, right?" a young, chocolate-skinned female doctor cried, "What the hell were you thinking!? And you!" the woman turned on Nathan, "Who the hell do you think you are? First you cause a commotion in the lobby and hassle one of my nurses and then you barge into the morgue! I have half of mind to..."
"Lay off, okay?" Nathan protested wearily, "I'm sorry, I...I just wanted to see my brother."
"Well are you happy now?" the doctor asked heatedly, "You know, there's a reason we don't allow many people to see their loved ones before a funeral. Just look at you! Even I know a pale white boy when I see one! You look like you've just been stabbed in the heart! My God..." the woman shook her head and grabbed Nathan's arm.
"Let go of me," Nathan said and ripped his arm away from her.
"Fine, but I want you out of this hospital," the doctor said, "I don't care who you are, you're already causing too much drama in a place that has enough of it. Leave, now!"
Nathan looked at the doctor and then nodded and made his way past her and out of the morgue. He walked through the halls and through the lobby, out of the hospital, and into the parking lot of the hospital. He nearly staggered to his car and eventually fell at the driver's side, trembling as he tried desperately to hold in everything that he was feeling.
But he finally broke and Nathan, once a young man that allowed nothing to hurt him, curled up against the door of his vehicle and sobbed quietly, burying his head in shame as his tears wet the sleeves of his pullover.
Why am I crying, Nathan asked himself in thought. Is it because I saw him like that or is it because I finally know...he's really gone?
* * *
The day had come and gone with people slightly on edge after hearing the news that a killer was on the streets, slaughtering innocent young people such as Lucas Scott. During this day, not as many people walked the streets of Tree Hill. Not as many people went window-shopping or took leisurely walks through the park. Not as many people wanted their children outside for fear that someone would snatch them or worse, shoot them in cold-blood.
Although perfectly natural for people to feel so fearful in such stressful times, their fears would no longer be needed. It seems that Ely, after committing his deed, drove far north in an attempt to escape the people that were chasing him. He drove so far and for so long that, by daybreak, he found himself in another county, surrounded by different people.
And when he sobered up, he realized exactly what he had done. When he sobered up, not only did the pain of a major hangover attack his head, but also did the pangs of guilt become a plague upon his heart. He panicked first, then found himself crying, then again panicked for a long time, tears drying upon his face until he saw the gun. If only a bullet were inside, he thought. He could end it all right now. No one would have to know what he did. He would only have to suffer through the fear of inviting death upon himself but...it was better than rotting away in prison, right? And he was going to die anyway, seeing as how he had HIV. If only there was a bullet.
And then Ely had a moment of peace where he realized that everything was going to be okay. He knew that, somehow, someway, everything would turn out all right. He didn't kill that boy. Hell, as far as he could tell, the Scott boy only suffered a flesh wound. He would make it out alive. And as long as the boy lived, what was the worst that could happen? Jail? Right now, any roof over his head was better than how he was living.
So Ely made his decision. He would go to the police and tell them everything: tell them that he was the one that shot the Scott boy with a gun that he stole from a house in Tree Hill several years ago. He expected rough treatment but not too bad because that boy had to have made it out alive.
As he drove up to the Macon County Police Department, Ely sat at the wheel, contemplating what he was about to do. Am I sure, he thought to himself and then nodded positively moments afterward. After all, it was the right thing to do.
Calmly walking toward the building, Ely opened the door and found himself inside the department. He walked slowly toward the front desk and saw as a tall man with a red mustache was looking down at some papers. He finally looked up at Ely.
"You here to make a report?" the man asked gruffly.
"No, sir," Ely said, "I'm here to make a confession."
The red-mustachioed man's features never faltered as he looked at this older man looking up at him. "A confession, huh?" the man said as he reached for a pad of paper and a pencil, "Well, go ahead. Tell me how you smoked too much and drank too much and now you need a place to stay. I'll have someone get you to a cell in a moment."
"No, I..." Ely said, faltering for a moment, "I want to confess to the shooting of a young man in Tree Hill."
The mustachioed man instantly looked up from his note taking, his eyes wide with shock.
"Last night at roughly 10 or so, I shot a young man by the name of Scott. Lu..."
"Lucas Scott?" the mustachioed man asked, finishing Ely's sentence.
"Yeah. Have they put out some sort of APB on me?," Ely asked with pure ignorance, "I'm sorry that I did it. That boy's a good boy. I was just drunk and he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. I swear that if..."
"That boy is dead, sir," the man said sternly, "He died from shock and blood loss due to the gunshot wound that YOU inflicted!"
Ely was instantly silenced by the officer's remark, staring up at the man. "N-no, no that can't be. I just shot him in the side! It was a flesh wound! It..."
"A flesh wound?" the mustachioed man repeated, "Well, it must've been a helluva flesh wound, seeing as how it punctured his kidneys."
"No..." Ely said. He noticed that the mustachioed man was signaling for someone and Ely instantly knew who as two brawny officers walked behind him. "I-I didn't mean it!"
"Well, sir, you just saved us the trouble of coming out to find your scrawny ass! Get this piece of shit out of my sight!" the mustachioed man said, his eyes glaring once more at Ely before he was taken away by the officers.
"No, please! No!" Ely pleaded as he struggled against the officers' strength, but to no avail. "I-I didn't know! I didn't know he died!"
"And if you had known," one of the officers growled quietly, "Would you have come forward?"
Ely stopped struggling as he looked up at the man that asked him the question. He was a man of Latino descent, his black hair slicked back, his sharp, dark eyes piercing through his own. Ely shuddered under this massive man's glare.
"Didn't think so," the same man said and continued to drag Ely off to the back where the man would spend the rest of the day in a cell until he would be transferred back to Tree Hill. And Ely Donalsen, even with his strict military training still intact, could only fall into a corner of the cell where he wept the rest of the day away amidst the taunts of the inmates.
* * *
As with every day, evening eventually came to the small town of Tree Hill, except something was notably different about the town. The town that had wound down the days in many nights past had a somber air about it this evening. The most noticeable sign of this difference could be found at Keith's garage where there was no one in sight. Always a place of lively conversations and boisterous men bragging about their cars, the garage was dead in the night, save for the yellow tape reading "CRIME SCENE DO NOT PASS" flapping lightly in the wind.
Another place that lacked its normal flood of people was Karen's Café, its darkened windows a clear sign that something was amiss in this town.
Many people followed their normal routines by closing shop for the evening, but normal routines seemed sluggish as people constantly looked at one another knowingly. Those that were nearby would look over at the garage and shake their heads. Others would drive past the garage, stop, and then drive on. Still, others would simply walk right behind the wind swept yellow tape, say a prayer, and leave.
One such person happened to do just that as she approached the garage. But she went beyond the tape and stepped over it, noticing a dim light inside the garage. Walking calmly toward the door, she pushed it open.
Keith was sitting in a chair overlooking the site where his nephew had taken his final breaths. A green beer bottle in hand, Keith sniffled and sighed, taking the bottle to his lips and allowing a rush of the burning liquid to enter his mouth and run down his esophagus. When he heard the door creak open, he immediately jumped from the chair.
"Mr. Scott, it's okay! It's me, Haley!" Haley said quickly. She recognized how on edge the man was and realized it may have been a bad idea for her to even come. "I'm sorry, I'll..."
"No, Haley, come back," Keith said, his voice slurred, "I need some company. Please stay with me."
Haley was unsure whether she should stay with Keith in his current state. Although she knew that he was harmless, she wasn't so sure she wanted to bear witness to his breakdown. She had a hard enough time dealing with her own pain, let alone the pain of other people. After Nathan left, she had to make her way back to class where she promptly fell into another fit of tears, which granted her the right of being excused for the rest of the day. Of course, without Nathan to take her home, Haley opted to walk, not wanting to speak with anyone about her ordeal. No, Haley needed Haley time and even if it gave her blisters on her feet she was going to get that time.
And so she did.
For five and half hours, Haley did nothing but walk around Tree Hill, thinking and looking. Reminiscing about her time with Lucas and sobbing after thinking about the last words she had ever uttered to Lucas. She tried desperately to shift focus on better times and succeeded by thinking about grade school, school plays, their first kiss, their vow to stay friends forever. Then she thought back to when they talked about where they wanted to go to college, their futures, their dreams.
Now...
"Okay," Haley said quietly as she shut the door behind her and walked slowly toward Keith. She watched as Keith grabbed a chair from beside him and slid it over toward Haley.
"Have a seat, Haley," Keith slurred. He chuckled and then said, "God, I must look like a slob to you. I'm sorry."
"No, you don't," Haley said, "And even if you did, you have every right to be."
Keith looked at Haley, his head slightly shifting from side to side as he stared at her. "Thank you," he finally said as he turned to stare at the floor once again.
Silence reigned over the garage for some time before Keith finally spoke up.
"I, um...I held Lucas right here just as he was taking his final breaths," Keith said quietly, "He, uh...he pleaded to me not leave him. And by God..." Keith smiled, shaking his head, "I didn't leave that boy for anything." Keith took another swig of his beer bottle.
Haley quietly looked at Keith and then at the spot he was referring to. Although there was no more trace of blood on the pavement, for some reason, Haley could clearly envision the moment in her head and it almost made her physically ill.
"But even worse than watching my own nephew die in my arms...is to have to give the news to his mother," Keith continued. "God, she loves him so much. And for him to be taken away like this it's just...just..." Keith was stricken with speechlessness and simply stood up and without a word, threw the beer bottle into the distant wall of the garage, watching as it shattered into dozens of pieces.
Haley winced at this action but not by much. Her nerves were already shot so a shattered bottle against a wall, however sudden, was not nearly enough to phase her. She stared at the wall, and then looked up at Keith who was looking at the wall as well.
Keith placed his hands over his face and groaned. "Dammit..." he muttered, "I'm sorry, Haley." But his apology was met with the young woman standing up, walking to him, and quietly embracing his frame.
"I've never really got to know you, Mr. Scott," Haley whispered, "And I could kick myself because you were always an important part of Lucas's life. I hope that I can help you and Karen through this."
Keith looked down at the young girl and embraced her back, his eyes closed. "Thank you," he said quietly.
* * *
"Where have you been all day?"
Nathan sighed as he looked over to the source of the voice. His father sat in a chair but instantly stood up and walked toward Dan.
"I was worried about you, Nathan," Dan said as he made his way toward his remaining son, "I heard you had left school..." but as Dan attempted to embrace his son he was met with hostility as Nathan pushed his away.
"Don't touch me..." Nathan said quietly in a trembling voice.
Dan was shocked by his son's actions but noticed that the young man's face was pale and that his expression was blank. Not even anger was portrayed in his voice when he was told to back away. But even worse was the smell of alcohol that emanated from his son's body.
"Have you been drinking," Dan asked heatedly.
Nathan shook his head as he began to make his way toward the stairs only to be stopped by his father's strong hand. Nathan was jerked back in front of his father.
"Answer me, Nathan!" Dan asked, "Were you drinking?" Dan looked at his son, but he knew the answer. It was as clear as day. "This must be a new level of stupid for you, Nathan! Drinking and driving, not caring about yourself or anyone else, for that matter! How far are you willing to push my buttons!?"
"Just stop..." Nathan said quietly, not maintaining eye contact with Dan.
"Stop? Stop?! Oh, I'll tell you when I'll stop, God dammit! I'll stop when you finally get your act together! I'll stop when you start thinking about other people instead of your damn self all of the time! I don't want to have to lose another one of my son's, Nathan!"
Nathan looked up at his father at this comment, a look of anger clear across his face. "Like you ever gave a damn about Lucas, you son of a..." but Nathan held his tongue on that insult, "Here you are, acting like you're some grieving parent when all you ever gave Lucas was grief. Hell, you did it to me, too but at least you gave me a roof over my head!"
"Damn right," Dan exclaimed, "And you should be grateful!"
"For what!?" Nathan asked heatedly and scoffed. He began walking around the area in which they stood. "Grateful for everything that you bought me? Grateful for the stuff that you got for me and mom? Grateful for all of the vacations and the cars and the CDs and all of that other shit!?"
Dan was shocked to hear his son curse right in front of him, his anger rising, his patience falling, but he continued to listen.
"Should I be grateful that you neglected your other son to take care of me and mom? Or...should I be grateful that I at least got to know Lucas...a person not poisoned by you?" Nathan spat angrily, "I think I should hate you. I should hate you for everything you've put me through. I should hate you for everything you put mom through..."
"Nathan..." Dan tried.
"...I should hate you for keeping me from ever getting to know my brother," Nathan interrupted, "And I do...I hate you so much."
Dan's anger instantly dissipated to a mix of pain and sorrow at his son's words, "Nate..."
"Please!!" Nathan yelled, suddenly breaking down, "Just...just shut up! I hate you!! I hate you for ever keeping me from my brother!! I hate you for everything that you've done to make his life a living hell! I hate you for choosing me over him!!"
Dan could only look at his son.
Nathan looked up at his father with tears streaming down his face, "And why, huh? HUH!? Why me? Why am I so special? What have I ever done to deserve everything and leave him behind with nothing!? He had so much more than I probably will ever have and..." Nathan sobbed, covering his eyes with a trembling hand as he turned away from his father.
"Nathan...son," Dan said quietly, "I know this must be hard on you but...son, you've got to stay strong."
Nathan chuckled at his father's statement. "Strong, huh?" he repeated, "Well I guess I'm not strong enough, huh? I couldn't even keep it together when I saw him today."
"What?" Dan said, his eyes filled with even more concern than before, "What do you mean?"
"Yeah, I, uh...I saw him at the hospital, down in the morgue with the rest of the stiffs," Nathan said grimly, "God, dad you should've seen him. He was...he looked so...dead."
"Nathan," Dan said walking closer to his son, "Son, why the hell did you go there? You shouldn't have done that."
"And I know that sounds stupid, right?" Nathan went on, ignoring his father, "But, um...he just looked so empty. I mean..." Nathan felt as if another torrent of sobs would attack him but he held it back, blowing out a gust of air from his mouth, "...he was so alive and to see him like that, it just...it just blew my mind."
Dan could only stand and listen to his son describe the reality of death, something that Dan never hoped Nathan would see.
"He was so pale...and he looked so cold..." Nathan whispered.
"Nathan..." Dan started but was interrupted by a closing door from the back. He looked at his son once more and then rushed to find Deb walking in from the kitchen with a tired look on her face. "Deb, it's late..."
"I don't give a damn, Dan," Deb said wearily, "I just got back from Karen's. She's a wreck and so am I."
"Well, our son needs both of us," Dan said as he pointed to behind him, "So unless you're too tired to help me out here I guess he can go right on suffering, huh?"
"Nathan?" Deb asked, her tired expression replaced with all of the worry of any concerned mother. She quickly walked past Dan, dropping her purse on the table. "Nathan? Sweetie?" Deb said as she stopped in front of her son, "Honey, are you all right?"
Nathan only looked up at his mother with tearful eyes and slowly embraced her, whispering a weak, "No," as a reply.
"God, Nathan," Deb said, noticing that her only son had been drinking and, no doubt, driving as well. However, all she did was place a gentle hand through his dark brown hair. "It's going to be all right, honey. It's going to be all right."
Dan looked at the two from the doorway of the kitchen and sighed, turning his eyes downward.
* * *
Deb slowly walked down the stairs and sighed as she made her way to the bottom, noticing that Dan was sitting on the sofa in the living room.
Dan looked up at his wife with concerned eyes. "How's Nathan?"
"I had to give him something to help him sleep, Dan. How do you think?" Deb replied shortly. She turned to head into the kitchen.
"Wait," Dan said as he quickly stood up from the sofa, "Deb, please don't do this. We're just starting to mend the bridges. From a near divorce to making love in our bedroom once again, Deb...we can't let this thing destroy us."
Deb turned to face her husband once again. "I'll admit that we have come a long way, Dan. And I wish to God that this didn't affect us this way. But I've come to realize that you're still the same. You haven't changed, I just allowed myself to believe you have."
"Deb, please," Dan protested.
"No, Dan!" Deb replied heatedly, "You just said it yourself, 'can't let this THING destroy us.' And what exactly is this THING to you anyway?"
"Deb, you know I feel terrible about all of this," Dan replied.
"Oh, I know you do, despite that transparent façade you put on earlier," Deb said, "The question is whether or not you have the guts to admit that to yourself as well as to everyone else."
Dan looked at his wife, "Deb..."
"Dan!" Deb barked angrily, "I am not going to stand here and let you string me along like this! Stop with the games! Stop with the lies! I want to know..." Deb walked toward her husband and grabbed his arms, "...what are you thinking? What are you feeling? Really?"
Dan looked at his wife who only gave him a hardened stare in return. Although he was ready to admit all of his feelings, his mouth remained closed.
Deb dropped her hands from Dan's arms and shook her head. "You know something, Dan? I'm sick of you. Sick of you, sick of you tearing people down, sick of you passing judgment on everyone but yourself!"
Dan remained silent.
"I even tried to defend you to Karen when she said that you were to not go near Lucas' funeral service," Deb added.
"What?" Dan said suddenly, "She can't do that! I have a right to be there!"
"Oh, really?" Deb said, "And what gives you that right, huh? You expect to have no part in the boy's life yet when he DIES you decide to finally be there!? How twisted is that, Dan?"
"She cannot do that to me, Deb!" Dan said, "I deserve..."
"You deserve NOTHING!!" Deb screamed viciously, causing Dan to become silent once more, "You don't even deserve the title of being Lucas' father!! Keith does!! Keith had to watch him die in his arms and had to tell the police what happened and had to tell Karen what happened all while Lucas' blood soaked his body!!"
"Oh, God..." Dan whispered as he placed a hand over his eyes.
"Do you understand, Dan!?" Deb continued, "People are suffering and will continue to suffer for a long time! And what are you doing?"
Dan looked at his wife from under his hand. His eyes were clearly ready to shed tears.
"You probably haven't even made a phone call to anyone," the woman said quietly, "Because you're Dan Scott...the best damn car salesman, husband, and father in Tree Hill...right?"
Dan could only look at his wife, shaking his head, mouthing the word, "no" over and over again.
"Yes! Yes, Dan! That's exactly what you are!" Deb yelled, "And if that's what helps you sleep at night, then you can right on believing it...but I'm not gonna be around to share it with you."
"Deb, please..." Dan said quietly.
"I'm going to fix myself a sandwich and then I going to sleep in the guest room," Deb said as she turned toward the kitchen, walking away from her husband, "I don't give a damn what you do."
Dan watched as his wife walked into the kitchen, pushing the doors away, and watched as they closed behind her, blocking her from his sight. Dan sighed long and deeply, looking up at the ceiling and finally made a decision. He began taking the steps two-by-two.
He was going for a drive.
* * *
Tree Hill Hospital. "10:00" read clearly on the digital interface of Dan's dashboard as he drove into the parking lot of the hospital. What the man did not realize was that he had parked in the exact same spot his son Nathan had parked in hours earlier. Dan had felt some force bring him here. He did not know why or even cared to why he was here. All he knew was that he wanted to see...
"...Lucas," Dan whispered as he stepped out of his vehicle and closed the door behind him. He did not even set the alarm, something that had become second nature to him over the course of five months of owning his brand new gray Mustang. And as he walked across the street, he only focused on the dual double doors ahead, oblivious to the fact that, if any cars had passed, he would have been an easy target.
"I would like to see my son. He...he died. His name was Lucas Scott," Dan managed to get out.
"The name was Lucas Scott? Oh, here er djdfo dsasjrh..." was all that Dan could decipher; the rest seemed to run together into nonsensical noise just as his trip into the hospital seemed to be the makings of a dream. He couldn't remember actually making his way past all of the doctors or nurses nor could he tell whether or not he was walking or floating behind this woman that was leading him to the mortuary. But as he stopped in front of a grouping of drawers with the woman facing him, everything seemed to come back.
"Take your time," the woman said and walked away, leaving Dan standing above Lucas' body. He was still looking at the wall where the woman stood until he finally realized no one was there. His eyes focused downward toward the blond-haired young man lying before him.
"Oh, God..." Dan whispered as reality hit, "Oh, my God...why? Why did this happen to you?"
It almost seemed as if Dan's silence warranted a response from the young man lying in front of him, but Dan broke the silence with a deep sigh as he placed his hand over his face as if trying to wash the visual externally from his mind. But when his hand was removed from his face, Lucas' unmoving face was there to greet him again.
Dan's hand remained in the air but then slowly fell upon Lucas' forehead, gently stroking the dirty blond hair upon the teen's head that was still soft, still clean. Dan traced the back of his hand softly over Lucas' face, caressing the young man's forever hardened features.
"You're so cold," Dan choked as he looked down at Lucas, "God, you're so cold..."
Lucas replied with silence.
"I'm so sorry..." Dan whispered as his caressing hand along with his entire body began to tremble, "I'm so sorry that I never..." but Dan's words cut off with a loud sob that racked his body, "GOD! Why am I doing this!? I didn't know you! You didn't know me! We never..." but Dan was quieted by another sob that forced him reclaim his caressing hand, and place it over his mouth. "Why am I doing this..." Dan whispered once more and finally broke as he slowly fell on top of his son's chest, his head close to Lucas'.
"Why...?" Dan pleaded to some invisible presence, tears streaming down his cheeks and onto Lucas' bare, cold chest, "...why?"
And Dan stood there, over his son, crying quietly as he embraced the young man's silent, unmoving form.