Author's Note: I guess this is the follow up to Nathan's one-shot. But now it focuses on Lucas. I've wondered what it would be like to have a brother that wouldn't knowledge you…I tried to make this sound more like a guy but I don't think it worked out that well.

Disclaimer: Honestly, I think this insults my intelligence. I don't think I'm thick enough to fully believe that One Tree Hill can possibly belong to me…

And now onto the story/

It's hard to be the older brother.

Although I don't have much experience, I know that much. When you are the younger one in the duo, you live in the comfort of knowing that your brother would protect you no matter what you do. When you are in the older position, you lack that security. I can see it in his eyes, no matter how old we both are. That faint admiring glow behind his eyes but the desire of succeeding over me is also lying in the undertones.

He always tried to beat me at something when we were both little, even before I realized that we were brothers. There was that instinct, he took one glance at me and seemed to know. Although he was shorter, I could feel the hatred radiating from behind his small frame.

Pucas, isn't it?

He asked sneeringly during the first basketball practice when we were both nine. His followers behind guffawed and I glared at him. He looked so innocent in those days, with his light brownish-blondish hair and large blue eyes. People said that he was adorable. Personally, I thought he looked more like Odie from Garfield.

Sometimes, when I woke early enough, I could see him out running with Dan. I hid behind the curtains sneaking a peek once in a while. That was my father and brother, I thought to myself. When I was smaller, my mother would not tell me who my father was. On the day that she did, she cried for an entire day. I've never seen my mother cry, not even after our house was partially burned, not when she spilled hot coffee on herself, not even when Uncle Keith was in the hospital after a car crash.

In the seventh grade, we were put into the same homeroom. Enough said, the teacher must have been crazy.

Nathan shot up about a foot that year; I felt a bit self conscious. Although neither of us had ever admitted it, he was still my little brother. He took full advantage of his new height. Once, after changing for gym he smirked at me.

When are you going back to Oompa Loompa land, zombie?

I glanced at him distastefully before stuffing my clothes into my backpack. He looked a bit disappointed at my lack of emotion and continued.

That was a great basket today; maybe tomorrow you can actually get it close to the net.

Silence filled the room; the tension could have been cut with a dull knife. He decided to step it up a notch.

Bastards never do have much to say, do they?

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Feeling intense anger welling up in my chest, I lunged at him. Nathan looked taken by surprise, and then tried to regain his balance. I socked him hard in the shoulder and he kicked me as hard as he could in the shin. That knocked me down for about two seconds before I grabbed him again, he yelped in surprise when I hit him on the face.

I guess the fight itself didn't last too long, but the hatred that we had for each other was enough to last two lifetimes. We sat two seats apart in the principal's office; he was nursing a black eye while I examined the bruise on my shin. Principal Turner lectured us about fighting on school property.

And why would you two fight in the first place? You're brothers!

Nathan's dark eyes clouded over for the second before he coldly responded.

He's just trash, we're not brothers.

Those were the words that hit through me like a sharp blade on a cold winter day. The receptionist peeked her head through the window.

Nathan and Lucas Scott, your father is here to pick you guys up.

I heard a distinctive voice correcting her.

Actually, only Nathan is my son.

Ouch.

Nathan glanced back at me with a smug expression on his face. Principal Turner glanced at me almost sympathetically while I hung my head in the chair.

Luke…

Get used to it, a voice in my head told me. Another laughed menacingly and I cringed inwardly. My mother berated me about the fight on our ride home.

Why would you do that, Lucas Eugene Scott?

She practically shouts at me with her hands tightly grasped on the steering wheel. I couldn't bring myself to look into her eyes.

Haven't I told you that fighting is not the right thing to do?

She had. She told me many times over, I've always tried to control myself around Nathan but today was just too hard.

He called me a bastard mom.

I saw tears coming into my mom's eyes. She slowly parked the car by the sidewalk and slowly pulled me into her arms. I could feel her body trembling next to mine.

People are going to call you anything they want, Luke. There's not much we can do to change it. But I love you, and I want you to have the best life possible. That's going to be hard if you keep getting suspended for fighting. Sweetie, it's just you and me against the world.

Before he and Haley loved each other, there was only one time that I saw the true Nathan Scott. We were on the eighth grade on the class trip to Washington D.C. We were assigned the same room due to our last names. We spent the better part of the night screaming and fighting with each other until I flopped down on my bed and pretended to be asleep. After about an hour, I saw Nathan sitting on the edge of his bed seething in anger. Finally, after he was convinced that I was asleep, he shuffled over and muttered softly.

Sorry.

From then, we've been through so much. Many fists flew during our "conversations". But we've also connected on levels that I never thought possible. I've held him back from many irrational and dumb decisions like an older brother should. And he's taught me how to love family outside of my mom and Keith. It doesn't really matter that he's never read Steinbeck or learned how to properly do a quadratic formula. It doesn't matter that whenever he reads the Odyssey, he cracks up whenever they mention 'Trojans'. It doesn't matter that he can beat me at NBA Live (Shh…don't tell anyone I said that). It doesn't matter that he snores in his sleep and accuses me of doing the same thing. I don't even care that he and Haley are…wow, that's a horrible mental image.

No matter what happened and how angry we got at each other, he is still my little brother.

And that could never change.

No matter how much Dan wants it to.