"So You Go" – Old Dominion.

I've had this one in my mind for a while now, just haven't gotten around to writing it until today. Enjoy.

. . .

Another night spent at home; another Friday alone. Nathan Scott sighs with self-pity and hopes to drown between the copious bottles of Corona. He's in the midst of taking a long, steady swig of beer when his phone buzzes on the coffee-table. It's a text from his friend Clay; "she's here. At Tric, w/ Brooke & Peyton. Come thru."

He stares at the message, unblinking. For a brief moment, he considers going— how he'd buy her another glass of wine, take a hold of her delicate hand and win her back.

Nathan snorts. The Corona must be blurring his brain. But, one look at the half-full bottle, and he knows that's not the answer. Even sober, lying awake at night, Nathan imagines every universal scenario involving her; every grain of sand, another reality. His beach is not the same, though. It's a lonely desert and he aches for her gentle waves.

"Screw it," he stands, confidently. He's going. And he's getting her back.

The drive to the bar is quick. He almost ran a red, and definitely blew a couple of stop-signs. He ignore's the bouncer's greetings and charges straight inside, scanning the throng of people on the dance floor in search of her. The erratic thumping of his heart is making his veins dizzy; they're constricting into a fearless tornado.

There's still no sign of her. He moves closer to the bar and fights the urge to knock back shots. He has to find her first.

Clay sees him and Nathan wants to ignore the way his shoulders are slumped.

"She's not here anymore, is she?" His eyes reflect a swimming pool of sadness.

"Sorry, man." Clay briskly rubs his shoulder. "She probably went back to her place. It's getting late."

"Yeah," Nathan chokes. "But there's still time."

So he goes.

On the way to her place, he blows another stop-sign. The streets are dark and desolate. No one sees. When he gets there, he pounds furiously against her door, praying she's there.

He notices a light flick on from the window. A triumphant grin pulls at his lips, lasting all but a few seconds.

When Haley pulls open the door, she doesn't smile like he had imagined. Instead, she looks tired. Sad. He wants to pull her in for a hug, but the door is blocking her body.

"What do you want, Nathan?" Her voice is void of emotion and sounds as tired as she looks.

"Can I come in?" He's bouncing on the edge of his toes, ready to combust with an explosion of anxiety.

She shakes her head and pulls tighter on the straps of her silky-red robe; the same one he'd taken off of her nearly every night. A mixture of lust and anguish blends neatly in his brain.

"I'm not ready to do this again, Nathan."

"Do what?"

He knows what; she can't let him in. Physically and emotionally. He broke her heart when he told her he was leaving to take a job in New York and that she shouldn't come with him. It's not that he didn't want her to, he just didn't want her to give everything up. So he let her go and now he regrets it every single second; he didn't want the job. So he quit. And now here he is, three months gone, and he's back on her porch, begging for a second chance.

"Just go," she whispers, unable to meet his pleading gaze.

He remembers the night before he left for New York. It was a week after they broke up but he'd shown up at her door, drunk. In a moment of weakness for both of them, Haley let him in and they'd made love for a final time. When she woke the next morning, he was gone. After that, she swore she'd never let him back in again.

"Hales . . ." He rasps breathlessly. If she could just hear him out, he'd apologize. Tell her how sorry he is. How much he misses her. How much he loves her—

The thought that maybe she was gone, not literally, but permanently gone in his life was enough for him to nearly pass out. There was nothing to grab onto, so he swayed and detected a look of worry flash across Haley's face. She probably thought he was drunk; he wasn't. His world was just crashing around him and he had no solid ground. He could only watch as everything he once loved, broke in front of him.

What if she moved on? The thought was plausible. She could have a man in her bed, waiting for her upstairs.

Nathan's going out of his mind. He knows he doesn't deserve her; he doesn't own her, but the thought of another man kissing her, caressing her skin, loving her… he wanted to pull his soul out of his skin.

She shakes her head again, stopping him before he can start. "It's over, Nathan. I mean it, this time."

Haley thinks the conviction in her voice is enough to get him to turn around before she too, begins to break. But when he doesn't move she painfully thinks of the only way to get him to go.

"Please, Haley-"

"I just don't love you anymore."

Five words are all it takes for Nathan Scott to shatter. Truthfully, he doesn't believe her but he also doesn't want to bother her anymore so he turns his back to go. Haley stares at him with tears in her eyes and watches.

He doesn't turn, just walks straight to his car and revs the engine—too angry, too upset to look at her. Pushing pedal to the floorboard, he speeds away and drives aimlessly around Tree Hill. He doesn't want to go home; it's way past midnight but he knows he won't sleep. So, he drives and finds the interstate; he'll stop when he runs out of road.

Nathan loses track of time. The road doesn't end but as if on auto-pilot, he slows the car when he realizes where he is: the beach where they met three years ago—both seniors in college on Spring Break. It wasn't an accident that he ended up here, he knows that. Something inside of him pulled him back here, a place of sacred memories. But the sand looks sadder and the waves are older, weaker.

He picks up a stone and skims it along the ocean. It doesn't make it very far. Nobody is around and Nathan's never felt more alone in his life. As he stares out into the vast void, he realizes that the ocean is just water and the beach is just sand. None of it matters without holding Haley's hand.

The magic isn't at the beach; it's with Haley. She's his heaven. A tear leaks from the corner of his eye as he silently wonders what went wrong—how he could fix it all. Maybe Haley's right, maybe it's over for good. She couldn't have meant it though, could she?

His eyes scan the beach again and he's torn between the memories of then and the feelings of now; just three years ago they were on this sand, stripping in the ocean. Kissing until dawn. They'd made love right here. It was her first time. And his first time being in love. Where did that all go?

For the first time in Nathan's life, he doesn't know where to go. He doesn't know what to do—until his phone buzzes again. It's a text from Haley, asking him to come over.

So he goes…