Author's Note: Alright, so the last chapter didn't do too well, review-wise. That's pretty understandable though, I guess, because I didn't really like the chapter and I hadn't updated in a long time. So, as my apology (and in hopes for more reviews. Hehe.) I'm updating now. Um, I'm not sure if I like this chapter either, really. I think maybe my writing is getting worse and worse, but I haven't actually confirmed this. Haha, so hopefully I'll start getting better. Hopefully.
Anyway, it would really mean a lot of me if you guys could leave your thoughts, etc, for this chapter, because I'm sort of doubting my writing ability here. Hah. Anyway, uh, this chapter should hopefully clear some stuff up. We'll see.
Also, flashbacks are in italics.
Non-Photo Blue
Chapter Six: Don't Do This, Man
Nathan cringed as he swallowed down some of the hospital's "soup", allowing it to run down his throat.
"God," He said to Peyton, who stood beside him with the cart of food. "I can't wait until I get out of here just so I can have some good food."
She rolled her eyes, which was her way of agreeing with him, he knew. He plopped down onto his bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and wondering where he'd wake up next.
"Good-night, Ms. Sawyer." Brian Durham called from beside him when she started to wheel her cart out.
She smiled. "Good-night, boys."
Nathan looked to the left of him, where a thin curtain hung between him and Brian. He sighed, placing his hands behind his head.
He heard a hesitant voice. "Psycho, you up?"
"Nathan." He meant it to be said nicely, but it came out a little rough. He cleared his throat.
"Oh, right. You can call me Whitey, if you'd like."
Nathan made a face. "Interesting nickname." He heard a chuckle, and then a sigh.
"Yeah, I don't know where I got it from. It just sort of.." The older man trailed off.
Both were silent for a few minutes.
Finally, Whitey's voice - equally as hesitant as before - sounded once more. "Do you follow basketball, son?"
Well, it wasn't like he could really remember anything that was currently going on in the world, so not anymore, really. For some reason, this thought made him sad, and he attempted to shake it away by answering. "Uh, not really. Not anymore."
"Oh."
More silence.
"I just - it's - tomorrow, I'm going into surgery. And well, if this is the last conversation I'm ever going to have," He paused, his voice choking up. "I thought I'd want to talk about something that I love. You know?"
Nathan sighed, sitting up. He pushed the curtain between them open, and Whitey turned to look at him with tears in his eyes.
"I know this doesn't make sense at all, but I've seen the future. You may think I'm crazy, but it's true. You're going to live. In 2006, when I come to this hospital again, you'll still be alive."
The older man shook his head. "That's impossible. You can't see the future."
"Trust me. You're in this same room, and you're looking, well, not as sharp, but you're okay."
Whitey laughed. "Thank you, son."
Nathan chuckled as well, laying back down. "I have to say though, my favorite team has always been the Bobcats. Call me biased, but they've got some of the best players."
Whitey laughed whole-heartedly, for perhaps the last time in a while. "I'd have to say I agree with you completely."
-
Nathan stared at both himself and Haley as they entered the room. He remembered this. He'd been here before.
"Haley." He grabbed for her hand. She turned to look at him.
He sighed. "I love you."
She put her other hand on top of their already interlaced hands, a smirk forming on her features. "So he finally says it."
Nathan chuckled. Haley grinned and turned, venturing deeper into the room. It was his parents' mansion, and he'd never forget it. He loved this house despite all its bad memories.
"I think," She said lightly, her voice high and perfect, "this is my favorite room in the entire house. With all of the plants and flowers. It's so beautiful."
He looked around. He definitely disagreed, but he did like this room. It had been his mother's favorite, also.
She kissed him quickly. "I'll be right back."
Nathan watched her disappear off into the bathroom, and he looked around the room at the plants and flowers. He took a seat on the loveseat, lacing his fingers together.
Haley returned and took a seat beside him, grabbing his hands in her own. "Nathan, those words you said earlier? They aren't just words, you know. They mean something."
"I know. I mean them, Haley. I really - I love you."
She grinned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I love you too, Nathan. Always and forever."
He leaned down to kiss her, and she giggled, allowing their lips to meet.
Nathan stood behind himself and Haley. 'What is going on? Why am I here? I remember this already.'
He looked up to where he and Haley had previously entered. In the darkened doorway stood a figure, watching.
Lucas.
Nathan - from the past - noticed also. He pulled away from Haley instantly, and somehow, her gaze managed to travel towards her fiancé as well.
Nathan stood quickly. Haley followed. Lucas simply frowned, walking away.
"Luke!" Haley ran after him, grabbing his hand. He pushed her away, hurt clouding his eyes.
"Get out of my house." He said coolly.
"Lucas, I'm-"
"Leave!" She looked towards Nathan for support, but he simply stared, unsure of what to do.
Tears flooding her eyes, Haley ran towards the door, outside to her car. Lucas shook his head distastefully at Nathan, walking up the stairs once more.
Watching himself now, Nathan knew that he had been unsure of what to do; follow his love? Or his brother? Taking a deep breath, Nathan began to walk towards the front door, just as he heard Haley's car speed away.
He sighed, slowly heading back up the stairs. Once he was on the second story flat landing, Nathan was instantly met with Lucas's steely gaze.
"I'm sorry," He shrugged. "I don't know what else to say."
"You're despicable." Lucas spat out, walking up the stairs to the next floor.
Nathan followed, hot on his trail. "Lucas, please try to understand-"
"Oh, okay. Now, I forgive you." He shook his head, continuing up the flight of stairs that led to the following floor.
"Lucas, calm down, and let me explain!"
His brother stopped for just a moment, turning to look at him. "Don't you dare tell me to calm down. You have no right at all!"
"Listen! It wasn't just sex or anything, okay? I'm in love with her. I love Haley, Lucas. I'm sorry, but it's how I feel."
"You don't know what love is, Nathan."
They were now traveling up the large stairway to the attic, which their mother had always told Nathan was "the most unsafe place to be". And it was. The stairs led straight up into the attic, and the area around the actual staircase was unprotected. One could easily fall down onto the floor below. Not to mention if someone were to fall off the balcony. They'd go straight through the skylight four floors down, and would finally land on the ground floor, right at the head of the stairs.
"Yes, I do!"
Lucas was now near the balcony, still fuming. If having steam come out of yours ears were an actual side effect of anger, he would have had enough to power a train.
"When are you going to grow up and stop this childish behavior? When are you going to realize that there are repercussions for all your actions?" He shouted, forcefully pushing Nathan backwards.
"Now you sound like mom and dad. Luke, I'm sorry that you had to find out about Haley that way, but it's not a mistake. I really love her."
"You know what, Nathan?" Lucas shook his head. "Just get out of my house. Get out!"
For months after their parents' death, they had argued over who would get the house. And simply because Lucas lived closer, he naturally assumed it would be him. This angered Nathan beyond belief.
"It's my house too!"
"No, it's not!" Lucas shoved his brother once more.
"Stop pushing me!" Nathan shoved right back.
"Stop fucking my fiancé!"
The brothers began to wrestle, pushing each other back and forth, back and forth.
Nathan could suddenly see where this was heading. He took a step towards them. No, no. They had to stop fighting right now.
Lucas took a swing at Nathan but missed. Fueled by this action, Nathan swung back at his brother, hitting him square in the jaw, and knocking him over.
Lucas stumbled backwards until he hit the wall of the balcony, his body flailing wildly as he went over the edge.
"No!" Nathan screamed, running to stand beside himself.
Nathan stared down to where his brother had fallen. Right through the skylight. He ran a hand through his hair. Oh, God. What would he do? It had been an accident! He couldn't be blamed for this.
Nathan quickly began to run down the stairs. Flight by flight by flight.
Nathan stayed by the balcony, watching as he saw himself reach his brother.
Glass surrounded Lucas's frame, and it was twisted in an odd way. Blood trailed from many areas, and there was a huge gash in his head.
Nathan lifted Lucas's body, quickly carrying him towards his new, silver Porsche. After placing his brother in the passenger seat, Nathan climbed onto the driver's side, pondering for just a moment before making up his mind on what he would do next.
He stood on the balcony, staring. Surely, he'd been on his way to the hospital, right? He'd been frantic, and that was why he'd crashed. Right? Sighing, Nathan took a step backwards.
He turned around, and was met with blue. Blue scrubs. The man from the MRI room! Frowning as he saw the needle once more, Nathan charged forward.
The man grunted as Nathan pushed him backwards, retaliating with a punch. The two began to wrestle, and suddenly, Nathan found that he was holding a pair of scissors.
With no time to be confused, he stabbed at the man's chest and stomach over and over again.
Eyes closed, he continued to stab. "Fucker!"
When his eyes opened, he was no longer in his old house, but instead in the hospital. Gasping for breath, he collapsed onto the bed of his attacker.
The door opened, and he was instantly met with Peyton's hazel colored eyes. They were different this time though. They looked almost… horrified.
"Mr. Scott.." She put a hand to her mouth, observing the scene before her.
"See? No one would believe me, but I told you he tried to kill me! I told you! I'm not crazy!" He looked down to the man, who suddenly was not wearing blue scrubs.
Eyes widening, he looked back from his bed to this one. Oh, God. He'd been dreaming, and he'd done this. His flashback had been so vivid, that he'd actually thought it was real.
This man was not the man in the blue scrubs.
It was Whitey Durham.
"No. No. No! I didn't - I thought - it.." He looked up at Peyton, who was slowly easing out of the door.
She began to run through the hallway. "Help! Help!"
He bit his lip, looking around the room, and then back down at Whitey's body. Breathing deeply, he jumped away from the bed, looking out into the hallway.
And then he began to run. Where he was going, he had no idea. He just had to get away.
