:Nine:
"I don't talk about your mother. To anyone."
"You can start."
"This subject isn't open for discussion."
Dan replaced a pen in his drawer. Neatly aligning it alongside the matching pencil. He cleared his throat, purposely avoiding eye contact.
"You owe me the truth."
"I don't owe you anything. In case you've forgotten, I've just done you a huge favor which you can't even think about repaying. You're supposed to be resting- don't expect me to tuck you into bed."
Lucas blinked in the soft lamplight, his expression hard to decipher.
"You're in love with her."
"Don't go there, Lucas."
"I remind you of Karen." It wasn't a question.
The simple statement chilled Dan. Frightened him, because he'd been trying so hard to avoid the obvious.
"When I first saw you, I believed you were Keith's. Completely his. I haven't seen anything to prove otherwise."
The shrug off didn't seem to affect his son.
"What happened?"
"I said this subject was closed!"
"Not to me."
"Go to bed."
"No."
"I'm warning you, Luke. Bedroom. Now."
"What are you going to do?"
Lucas' solemn gaze took on a more sarcastic cast.
Dan swung his chair out, sending it squeaking away. Dang carpet. It was so lush he couldn't even slam the stupid thing against the wall.
His son shifted on the straight backed seat, drawing one leg up. The picture of composure.
"This is my house."
"You know," Luke examined the knee of his sweats, "Nothing you try is ever going to surprise me." He smiled, tilting his head back. "Not much, anyways."
The elder Scott hesitated, catching the secretive smile playing about Lucas' lips.
"Nathan would probably agree otherwise."
"I'm not Nathan. You see-Keith pretty much wrote the book on how to upset your kids."
"Well, I'm sure he forgot a few chapters."
"Maybe. In the epilogue." Lucas rubbed his neck. "If only I read them."
"I'll give you an outline. This conversation is done." Dan seized the back of his son's shirt, pulling him to his feet.
"You don't need to follow me. See you tomorrow."
The slender blond padded down the hall, his father in tow. Watching.
Luke took the stairs three at a time, despite the fuzziness behind his eyes. Just to irritate the man.
Slipping between silken cold sheets.
The truth would come out soon. It was just a matter of when...
X
Shifting restlessly in slumber. The moonlight, illuminating, revealing in it's cool harshness.
Strange dreams, where waking seemed imminent, only to blur toward that unconscious state of repose...
X
Whereas Dan-well, sleep seemed to evade him. There was no welcoming crunch of tires, voices, any sound save eternal stillness. Dan had ceased wondering where his wife was tonight. Maybe she had scheduled this trip days ago, just forgetting to mention it. He even found her planner, the one Deb kept in her desk, thumbing through the carefully scripted events. Details, dates and times.
Meaningless abbreviations. Dnr with Hmsltn's.
AR Mtg, 12:15.
John, the 23rd at 4.
Dan stared at the ceiling, lying on his back. Maybe he'd been too keyed up lately to sleep. The blanket wadded under him, refusing to cooperate.
A soft step jerked his attention outward. Pushing those niggling concerns to the back of his mind.
There it was again.
The dark haired Scott swung his feet to the floor, curiosity aroused.
It had to be Lucas.
He slid silently through the darkened rooms, hand held out to guide him. Fingers brushing smoothly papered walls,the slipperiness of varnished door frames. He wondered what the kid was about at two in the morning. If he wasn't so sure combining sleeping pills with HCM medication would effectively OD anyone, he'd stuff them down Lucas' throat.
Dan hesitated outside his study. There wasn't a light to warn him, but he had the suspicion Lucas was just around the corner.
Soft squeak of leather. The blond must be sitting in his chair. Dan almost swore out loud, at the audacity of it.
"Keith. Keith. It's me."
"No, I'm not. I'm at Dan's, remember?"
Silence.
"It's Lucas. I'm in Tree Hill."
Dan leaned in as close as he dared. The faint glow from the kitchen would reveal him, but there was nothing but inky blackness within.
"It's me. Luke. It's me."
Unable to pierce the gloom, it was still easy to distinguish the tight control Lucas was exercising. By the tone of his voice. The muffled quality, as if he were pressing the mouthpiece to his lips.
"Dad. Can't you hear me?"
The wind swept up outside, sending fresh raindrops crashing into the panes. Dan turned toward the sound; felt, rather than heard, thunder rolling across spring skies.
"I'll try calling again later."
There were breaks between the words, almost as if Lucas was hoping to hear something that wasn't there.
Lightening forked the clouds, briefly painting the contents of the study an eerie sapphire.
Soft click of the phone being replaced in it's cradle.
Dan stealthily back stepped, feeling ridiculous at the pulse pounding in his ears. He wasn't eavesdropping, this was his house. His study, his son making a forbidden phone call. But he stayed out of sight, buried in shadows.
Lucas slipped past him, the slender shadow with down turned gaze. Dan caught his breath, expecting the blond to turn up stairs. Instead, he disappeared around the corner. His father followed, brought up by the sound of a lock turning.
Cool, in-swept air played briefly across Dan's face.
Luke stood on the doorstep, watching jagged lines streak the heavens. The downpour sculpted his hair, making splashes along his cheeks, catching in his eyelashes. Dan pulled ruffled curtains aside, shaking his head when the kid started down the sidewalk in his bare feet.
He had no way of knowing, Luke had done this before.
Walking home in the rain, empty inside, soaking wet outside. There was magic in the storm.
Something healing in the buffeting rain drops.
X
It couldn't have been more than half an hour. Dan waited, pushed up to the kitchen table. He fingered the checkered cloth, thoughts tumbling through his brain. He felt the careful, steady world he'd built for himself slipping away. Tilting dangerously close; collapsing altogether. Dan didn't know what to do; didn't even know what he wanted anymore.
The door opened faintly with it's familiar creak, Lucas easing through the narrow space. He shook his damp hair back, turning-
One hand frozen on the knob.
Blinking as the moisture dripped, unheeded, down his guarded face.