Author's Note: Still digging all the ultra cool reviews. That's the highlight of my day so thanks again to everyone. Nothing is better than reading when you guys review and actually talk to the characters. Lol! Cracks me up...

Also, be careful when I do multiple updates that you check the chapter numbers and titles so you won't miss anything. Everything links together so if you miss one chapter, you might miss an important key that comes up in the future...

Nathan had been driving around for hours. Getting behind the wheel or taking long walks alone had always somehow managed to help clear his head. And his mind was definitely in dire need of cleansing. He was messing up and he knew it. Things were spiraling out of control and he knew it. He was dangerously unhappy, at the end of his rope so to speak and there was nothing to make it all better. It had gotten to the point where he couldn't feel anymore. It was like watching a movie where the main character breaks down and self destructs…only it wasn't a movie and it wasn't someone else. It was his own life that was rapidly disintegrating.

He finally arrived home just as it was getting dark. He'd already had a few beers in the park to relax himself. He wished he had his ball with him. At least shooting hoops on his private court would be somewhat therapeutic. But he didn't have it with him and he knew exactly where it was. It was inside the house and so was his wife. Nathan sighed. He didn't hate her. He did love her in fact. But it was more to the situation than that. He honestly felt bad that she was hurting but he was hurting too.

It was hard. The marriage wasn't going well at all and they both knew it. Something would have to give…and soon. Before their baby arrived. Nathan knew he couldn't raise a child in that environment. They had run out of words to say to one another. They barely looked at each other and she had long ago quit protesting when he began randomly falling asleep on the couch instead of in their bed.

Sighing, he entered the house. Maybe there would be something good on TV. Yeah, that sounded like a decent way to piss away an evening. An ice cold beer in front of the Plasma television.

"Nathan…"

He looked up. Megan was sitting on a chair. And she wasn't alone. A few feet away were her parents, Mark and Laurie. Next to them sat Jake and Peyton, followed by Andy and Karen. Brooke and Lucas were there as well along with Dan and Deb. Keith and Jules were sandwiched between them and Royal and Mae. And rounding out the circle of love were two men instrumental and responsible for much of Nathan's athletic success…Whitey Durham, his coach in high school and Bernie Bickerstaff, head coach of the Charlotte Bobcats. 17 people sitting solemnly in the middle of his living room awaiting his arrival.

"What the hell is this?" he frowned. "Who died?"

"No one yet and that's why we're here…to make sure it stays that way", Keith started.

"What's going on? Lucas?" Nathan looked at his older brother.

Lucas took a deep breath.

"You need help, man. And we're here to make sure you get it."

Nathan laughed out loud.

"Isn't this cute? Tree Hill's own little after school special. Well, I don't know about you guys but I'm about to go have a beer. I'll be in the other room relaxing with my thoughts."

"No", Megan said quietly.

"What?"

"You heard me, Nathan. I said no. All these people are here for a reason. We've come together to help you and you need to listen to us."

"Help me?" Nathan sneered. "What the fuck? Are the words 'save me' tattooed on my forehead or something?"

"Maybe they should be", Jules added quietly. "Obviously something is going on, Nate."

"Okay, okay. I get it. This is about the other night, isn't it? The San Antonio game", Nathan shook his head. "Damn. I have one bad night, one bad game and everybody wants to freaking spazz out."

"Bad game?" Royal Scott boomed. "Is that what you call it? Boy, you were all over the place. Stumbling and fumbling looking like a modern day crack head."

"Dear, Grandpa is just worried about you", Mae tried to soothe. "We all are. We just love you so much."

"Fine. I love you, too, Grandma but I don't feel like talking right now. I had a bad game and I'm tired right now because I've been practicing my ass off so I won't have another one and the last thing I need is my whole freaking family and my friends congregating in my living room trying to figure out how to fix all my problems."

Karen spoke gingerly as she looked right in Nathan's eyes.

"Nathan, I've been noticing that you've been drinking a lot…more than usual lately. We all have. There's nothing wrong with partying or letting loose every now and then but it seems like you're losing control…and everyone can see it but you."

"Karen, I'm fine."

"You're not fine, Nathan", Peyton shook her head. "Everyone here in this room really cares about you and what happens to you. We all came here to try and give you the support you need hopefully so you can get the help you need."

"I don't need any help", Nathan laughed. "Come on, guys. It's me. Nate. What the hell? You been watching too many Lifetime movies? Somebody have my back, here. Luke? Jake? Brooke, I know you can't be a part of this crap."

"Sorry, Boytoy. Maybe this is the best thing for you. I've been defending you and Lucas has been coming to your rescue and your parents keep bailing you out. Someone is always around to save Nathan. Well maybe it's time you started trying to save yourself."

"This is ridiculous…"

"We know you were drinking before the game, honey", Deb said softly. "We're concerned about you and all the problems you've been having lately. The alcohol is taking over and starting to ruin your life. You have a problem and you need help and everyone in this room agrees to that and we're going to stick by your side through every minute."

"Mom…"

"Sweetie, don't. Okay? We know you were drunk. It was obvious. You're always drunk. And quite frankly to me, it looked like more than just the effects of alcohol."

The very insinuation sent Nathan into a fury.

"Oh yeah? And you would know, wouldn't you? As many pills as you fucking popped. Valium, Vicodin, Percocet…want me to go on? Gee, Mom, slept in the front lawn lately?"

Deb hung her head in shame.

"Boy, don't you talk to her like that", Whitey yelled. "She's your mother! Now it's time to man up and tell the truth. What the hell is your problem? Did you get drunk before that game the other night?"

"So what if I did? Yeah, I had a few beers and a shot or two. Big fucking deal! It's not like it's the end of the world!"

"Stupid idiot. It might be the end of your career!"

"Coach, I partied the night before the game. Then I had a few drinks in the hotel. I was fine. It wasn't like I was drunk or anything but I was tired so I took some stuff to…"

"No!" Dan stood up. "Shut up, Nate! My son does not take drugs!"

"Sit your ass down! No, I don't take drugs, alright? It was NoDoz! Freaking NoDoz! That perfectly legal shit you can buy in any gas station in America. I just needed something to wake me up."

"You can't do that, son", Coach Bickerstaff shook his head. "That's dangerous. NoDoz is speed and you mixed speed with alcohol. All that going on hours without sleep, what did you expect?"

"You're all making a big deal out of this."

"Oh it's a very big deal. You cost me a victory, Scott. You embarrassed the Charlotte organization that has been so good to you. You let your teammates down."

"Coach, I'm sorry, okay? Look, man…"

"Sorry doesn't always cut it."

"Then what do you want me to do, Coach?"

"There's a place in Greensboro, quiet, private…" Andy stated. "Trained professionals who offer an effective detox program, group and individualized therapy. It'll give you a chance to relax and reflect and gather your thoughts. The 12 step program will keep you away from the alcohol and I think the psychiatric therapy will help you with all the issues you've been dealing with the past 7 or so months or even years. It'll provide a pressure free environment where you can rest and get your body back in tiptop shape. Now, the name of it is the Newport Center. It is a very exclusive place and the waiting list is usually 3 to 4 months long but I was able to pull some strings and they have a bed waiting for you to night."

"Andy…"

"I'll go with you. Or if you want Megan or your parents or Lucas or whoever. Hell, we'll all go with you if that's what it takes. We're just asking you to get help, Mate. Taking that first step is the hardest."

"Fuck you, Mate", Nathan laughed sarcastically. "I don't need to go to rehab and I don't need you and your underground connections either. I didn't ask for your help and I sure as hell don't want it. You want to play step daddy? Lucas is right over there. But back up off of me!"

Megan finally spoke as she dabbed at wet eyes.

"I think it will be good for you, sweetie."

"Hell no! I don't need it and I don't want it! It's stupid! You're all overreacting! Besides, I'm not gonna go do this bullshit in the middle of the season."

"I agree with my son", Dan nodded.

"Dan!" Deb protested.

"Although it was quite noble of the munchkin here to go to such great lengths for Nathan but face it, his career can't take 30 to 60 days off. It's professional suicide. Nathan is at the top of his game when he's not making asinine mistakes."

"Our son needs help, Dan and I thought we agreed on that."

"I will look into hiring someone to go on the road with him, then. Sort of like outpatient treatment."

"Hello! I'm still here, guys! Don't talk about me like I'm not standing here! Now it's my life and my decision. Not yours and certainly not my wife's. I'm a man and I make my own choices. And I choose to scrap all this outpatient, inpatient, psychiatrist, detox, let's talk about our feelings and draw little hearts and bunnies crap! I'm done and that's final! Now I'd appreciate if you would all get the fuck out of my house! I ain't running the Ramada here."

"I'm afraid you don't have much of a say in the matter", Coach Bickerstaff informed his player. "You violated the legal rules and a code of ethics with your actions in Texas. Such behavior is unacceptable and will not be tolerated. Now I like you as a person, Nathan and I believe in your talent and potential. You're a hell of a player and you could have a real future but you need professional guidance. If you don't seek help, I am benching you until further notice and will make a recommendation to the NBA Disciplinary League."

"What?" Nathan shouted in disbelief. "Are you fucking kidding me? How could you all do this to me?"

"It's for your own good, man", Jake sighed.

"My own good? Shut up, Jagielski! You know better than to talk before Peyton pulls your puppet strings. You know, this is too funny. All we're missing is a camera to capture this magical Kodak moment. Everyone pointing the finger at me. Nate's a drunk…Nate's fucking up…Nate's out of control. How ironic that I have 17 pots on here calling this kettle black. Everybody lives in a glass house, yet they want to throw stones. Let's see. I have a psycho Betty Crocker, Martha Stewart, June Cleaver wannabe for a wife who, by the way, spends her spare time trying to slash her wrists. I've got an asshole for a father and a pill popping freak for a mother, who is so concerned about me taking drugs when hell, I learned it by watching her! I've got all of a sudden concerned grandparents who have never given two shits about me before. I've got an uncle who if I go to rehab, he needs to be in the bed beside me but who could blame him with his whore of a wife? Then the shrimp from Down Under suddenly wants to be my new daddy along with Karen who thinks she's my mommy. I've got one washed up, has been for a coach who is still trying to run my life while the other is being an ungrateful bastard in spite of the fact that is franchise was the worst in the league before I came along and saved the day. And no wonder my wife is fucking crazy, look at her mother…and by the way, Laurie, it ain't 1955 anymore so welcome to the 21st century. Oh and how could I forget my dear old father in law who think he's J.R. Ewing. Nice try, wanting to buy me off for two million but newsflash, dumbass, that's nothing more than chump change to me. Besides, it would take a hell of a lot more than that to put up with your whiny, spoiled daughter. Now. Last but certainly not least. Saint Lucas. My perfect, stand up brother and his shallow, conceited, superficial crown princess. Need I say anymore?"

"Nathan…"

"No. Fuck this", he opened the refrigerator. "See this? I'm going for a ride with my six pack and when I get back, I want you all out of here. You too, Meg."

And with that, he was gone, the door slamming loudly behind him.