23
By Grace (purplemud)

Pairing: Naley and a bit of Leyton and Brucas
Summary: Nathan Scott is done playing basketball. In fact, if he's going to be honest about it, he's done with living. But one funeral just might change that. AU. Totally.
Warning: Character death. Strong language. Some sexual content in the future. Maybe.
Author's note: Oh wow. I didn't think I'd be able to update this, like ever.I know it took me this long for an update and I'm sorry if this isn't what you guys were waiting for and it it's so short. It has Naley though, so I hope that's okay. I just want to thank everyone who had been so patient with this story and especially for all the kind reviews and comments. I really appreciate it. And to cyke who gave me the push I needed to write this chapter. I am not abandoning this story. I promise. I will work on it as soon as I have the time and as often as I could. Let me know what you guys think. Thank you in advance for taking the time to read this.
Disclaimers: Standard disclaimers apply. Me don't own. Lines from the show shamelessly borrowed. Please don't sue.

Eleven

He doesn't know why he's here. Brooke is drunk and miserable and bitter, kind of like his mom, and if there's one thing that he has learned, it's that you never, ever listen to a drunk, bitter, broken-hearted miserable woman. Especially ones who's sharing secrets with the dead. Nathan thinks there might be something darkly romantic about it, maybe even poetic – who knows? He isn't the type of guy who'd know these sorts of things. He can give you the list of all the NBA champions, in chronological order, from the year he was born until the present; Michael Jordan's career high points; his average during his heyday on the court; Coach K's total number of wins and losses. He can spew off basketball statistics, the science behind triangle offense, anything about the game - he knows his stuff. But if you ask him about love, well, he wouldn't know jack about it.

Nathan immediately thinks of Haley and wonders why he's so keen on seeing her again. He isn't planning on sleeping with her that was for certain. Well, maybe he had thought about it, like, very, very briefly. In passing. Totally lightning quick. The idea quickly fizzled out as soon as he remembered that this is the girl his brother had held high up on a pedestal and what makes him think he can actually reach her? From where he's standing, he'd be lucky if she'd even notice him.

No. This is just some sort of way to compensate the gnawing guilt that's furiously eating him up from the inside.

Yeah. This is what this whole thing is all about.

He's been an ass to Lucas and now that Lucas is gone, he has to take care of Haley. Even for just tonight. And besides, who else would? He hadn't seen anyone trying to comfort her at Lucas's house. He had experienced this all before: death. It doesn't make him an expert, but it does make him somewhat qualified do this, right? He can comfort her, be the receiving end of her anger, he can sit still and be silent and let her cry all she wants. Whatever she needs right now, he'll be the guy for her and it'll be like a little favor to his half-brother.

There, let's call it that. An apology of sorts.

It takes him an hour to find her. She's exactly where Brooke said she'll be. He parks the car a few feet away, watching her. He sits there, silently gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles had turned white, until the palm of his hand started to ache. It strikes him again, how small she is. How small she looks out there, standing all by herself at the middle of the basketball court. He watches as she throws the ball up, how it curves and falls way, way out of target.

Haley clearly has never held a basketball before. Ever.

She tries over and over again. The dribbling sound the ball makes is erratic, without rhythm, without purpose. She steps closer, squares her shoulder and carelessly tosses the ball. It doesn't go in. She steps farther, angles it up on the right, at the corner, near the free throw line and misses once again.

She doesn't stop though. She runs after the ball, picks it up again: dribbles, aims, shoots and misses.

The image of Haley, alone in an empty court, the sun slowly fading behind her, it burns him. It touches Nathan so profoundly that everything he knows, every memory he has ever had, they all suddenly lost their meaning, their significance. It all went away, dissolving into nothing until all he could grasp, all he could understand was the small woman shooting baskets, trying to chase the hurt away.

He's out of the car and into the street, wondering how to make his presence know; if he's even welcome here. He's only talked to Haley for less than hour, so really, what gives him the right to think that he could honestly help her through the pain?

Nathan swallows hard. He has talked himself into this and now that he's actually close enough to hear her gasping for breath her as she runs towards the ball bouncing away from her, well, he isn't going to listen to that cowardly voice urging him to go back, just walk away and forget about it. If he does that, this will haunt him for the rest of his life and he already has too many things haunting him. He's done enough walking away so he straightens his back, walks closer towards her.

And who was he kidding anyway? Coward as he maybe, he's also stubborn and relentless. Nathan can't walk away now. Not after seeing her like this. Not when there's no one else around to look after her.

Nathan hears Haley grunt as she takes another shot and this time, the ball finally makes it to the backboard. The sound is loud and jarring as the rim visibly shakes from the force of the ball angrily bouncing against it. Haley's shoulder is tense, set rigidly and Nathan is sure that from the way she had flung the ball, elbows awkwardly tucked against her side, she's feeling the sting of her muscles protesting at the sudden effort. If she does it again, it'll hurt more: her shoulders, her arms and back. Nathan winces at the thought, suddenly aware of how sore she'd be tonight. Who knows how long she's been trying to make a basket? Hours? From her tired stance, the slump of her shoulder, the defeated curve of her back, as though burdened, Nathan is sure she's been at it since he had left her hours ago.

"Square your shoulders to the basket. Bend your knees a little and relax your hips a bit."

Haley lets out a sudden, startled sound, dropping the ball and whirling around to face him. The ball rolls away from her limp hands, but Nathan isn't sure where it went, his eyes are on her and she's crying; silent tears streaming down her face, small wet splotches on her yellow dress. Her face is the picture of agony, pure and solitary. She's grieving all by herself and he just waltzes in with his basketball words of wisdom.

Square your shoulders to the basket. Bend your knees a little and relax your hips a bit.

Shit. What is he thinking? What good would that advise be? He's such a fucking moron. So stupid and useless. Nathan stands there quietly, unsure of what to say, what to do. He wishes he had listened to Brooke, to Tim and Jake. To Keith. To his dad. If only he had, he wouldn't be standing here, wanting desperately to just disappear. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry…" He chokes on this, barely makes a sound, his throat constricting painfully, strangling him.

Haley quickly wipes her eyes, her face and chin. It's red and blotchy and dammit, how is it possible that she's still the prettiest girl Nathan had ever seen? The sun's fading light casts shadows around her face and even the sorrowful curve of her lips is sweet and intoxicating to look at, he almost forgets that he had practically violated something sacred; had arrogantly stepped into her grief with nothing to offer her, nothing except how to shoot a basket.

She's still looking up at him, still breathing through her mouth, her lips parted gently.

"I am so sorry." Nathan chokes out one more time, talking through his burning throat. "I didn't mean to… I didn't know… I… Haley..." He falters at her name and he takes the smallest step towards her, suddenly wanting, needing to pull her into his arms. He watches as she swallows, her throat muscle working so visibly underneath her pale skin. She takes in a deep breath, her chest heaving and he could practically see her heart quivering inside.

"Please don't cry." It's a silly little thing to say, because her best friend had just died, what else is she supposed to do? But Nathan just can't stand the sight of her crying. The sight of her tears, that sad, broken, lost look, something inside of him twists and coils painfully, protesting at the thought of her hurting. He must do something. He can't watch her be like this.

Haley shakes her head, sniffing gently. "I suck don't I?" She asks after a beat, smiling crookedly through her tears.

Nathan blinks, not sure if he heard her right. She's still looking expectantly up at him and he clears his throat to answer. "No, it's…" He lifts his hand, makes a futile gesture, thinks of how stupid that is and quickly drops his hands back to his side, clenching and unclenching his fist.

Haley lets out a small chuckle. "I am not athletic. Obviously." She gives him quick roll of her eyes. "Lucas makes it look so easy." She walks past him and Nathan quickly turns, following her movement, uncertain if he's supposed to run after her if she bolts, but she's just picking the ball, holding it in between her palms. Her delicate fingers spaced so far apart. She holds it the way all girls would hold a basketball, like it was some sort of a Tupperware bowl.

Nathan almost smiles at this. He'd be able to easily hold the basketball with one hand. Effortlessly and expertly gripped with his fingers.

Haley sighs, walking back up to him. "He makes everything so easy. And I can't..." she makes almost the same helpless hand gestures he did, indicating the towering basket. She makes a face, scrunching up her nose, "When you left, I realized, I've never asked Lucas to teach me how to score a touchdown."

"Basket." Nathan automatically answers with a shrug, shoving his hands inside his pockets. He wonders where this is going, because this certainly isn't the reaction he had been expecting. He'd thought maybe by this time, Haley would've asked him to leave her alone but she hasn't. Not yet, anyway and he's trying to figure out when she'd finally get tired of him. Or suspicious. When she'll finally ask him to mind his own damn business.

Haley looks up at Nathan, her watery-brown eyes suddenly confused. "Huh?"

Nathan tries to hide his wince. Confusing basketball with football seemed totally impossible and yet Haley had and it was absolutely cute. Almost adorable. Maybe even kind of sexy, in that innocent way of hers. "You said touchdown. Its uhm, that's for football and basket is, for, well, basketball."

That sounds dumb, but Haley smiles at him. It's a faint, feeble small smile but Nathan is unexpectedly relieved to find that smile back on her face. She isn't crying anymore. He feels the band across his chest loosening.

"Right. Sorry." Haley says this in a sincerely apologetic way. "Lucas tried to get me interested in basketball but I never really got it." She makes a face, kind of endearing, the way she scrunches up her nose and lips, almost as though she had tasted something nasty. "I mean, I'd watch his games and scream my head off, even though I didn't actually know what's happening, just that he scored a basket."

Her eyes twinkle a little at the word and Nathan actually smiles at that. She's a quick learner. "Well, you're starting to get it, you're not that hopeless." He assures her, trying to keep his tone light. Her tears had dried and there were only faint marks on her cheeks. Little white, faded tracks. Nathan wants so badly to erase even that but he still couldn't bring himself to touch her. He knows, somehow he knows that the moment he touches her, it would change everything. He isn't quite ready for that yet and even if he was, he's sure how Haley would react.

"Teach me." Haley tells him.

Nathan stares down at her. "What?"

"You said you played against him, so teach me." She sounds determined and something tells Nathan that he wouldn't be able to say no but…

"I... don't." I can't. The honor is supposed to be Lucas's. Lucas was supposed to teach Haley and not him. It didn't seem right that he'd take this from his half-brother too. He had already taken too much, hadn't he?

"C'mmon, I know I'm a total klutz and I'm probably as uncoordinated as a whale," she pauses, frowning, "wait, are whales uncoordinated?" She makes that face again, before shaking her head. "I have to check that one out," she mutters to herself, as though making a mental note. "Anyway, seriously, I'm as uncoordinated as the most uncoordinated mammal in the animal planet that you can think of but I would really like to try. For Luke." Haley takes a step closer, her hand suddenly finding his, curling around his fingers, tugging him. "For me."

"I don't know." Nathan starts. Lucas wouldn't like this, but it's not like he has any choice. It's not like they have any choice, right? Lucas isn't here anymore and Haley needed this. He's just trying to help her out. He's not trying to steal this from Lucas or anything.

Brooke's word from earlier finds it way inside his head and he wonders rather inanely if Lucas is currently tossing and turning in his grave right now. Nathan sends a quick apology and hopes that somehow, somewhere, Lucas would know that he's not trying anything… he's just… well… Nathan still isn't sure what he's doing. Maybe Lucas could give him a sign? Something to let him know that this okay.

"Please? Please Nathan?" His name escaping her lips really does something weird inside of him. He can feel his stomach muscles fluttering like crazy. It's insane. Actually, this whole thing is pretty much right there in the Insane Weird Shit category of his life.

Nathan has never tried to teach anyone anything ever before. Especially not basketball. His dad had insisted that whatever knowledge he knew about the game, he should use it to his advantage and not give it away to anyone, not even to his teammates. Proof of this was the fact that he's the only one in the team who had perfected the art of throwing a free throw. Sometimes, he'd even do it looking sneeringly at their opponents: Look, asshat, I can do this with my eyes closed. He had probably thrown Lucas that same self-assured arrogant look.

"Lucas would always score a basket for me. One every game and I get to do that for him, this one time. Please?" Haley has enveloped his hand inside hers and she feels so incredibly warm, so impossibly close to him he could faintly smell her shampoo.

Nathan closes his eyes and slowly nods his head. When she's looking at him that way, her brown eyes so wide and trusting, there's just no way he can say 'No' to her. It's impossible.

"Okay." He tells her after a second, meeting her gaze, her smile of thanks. "Alright, I'll teach you."

And well, now both his dad and Lucas would be rolling his eyes at him. It didn't matter. Haley wanted to do this and he'd help her. He'd stay here at Oak Lake forever until she can finally make a basket.

She makes the first basket right around the time the first stars had started appearing. Granny style. Desperate time calls for desperate measures and Nathan had a feeling she won't go home until she makes one. So he promises he'll come back and teach her later how to do it properly.

Nathan remembers it vividly: the very second the ball silently swished in - nothing but net.

It took them a moment to register that she had actually done it and before Nathan can congratulate her, Haley let out a small squeal of surprise that quickly turned into delight. She had ran to him, wrapped her arms around him and again, Nathan was bowled over by her smallness. So delicately fierce. So fragile.

He was still holding her when right there and then, he realized that he wanted her. Nathan wants her in his life and he knows, he's sure of it, that she's all that he'll ever want and nothing else would matter.

This sudden realization makes him nervous. No, not nervous, fuck nervous. It goes beyond that. He's terrified. Scared shitless. Because he's certain that he's not allowed to want her. He can't. And maybe that's his punishment. Maybe after everything that he has ever done, all the shitty things that he had put people through – this was his karma. That he'd want a girl so badly but she'll never want him back. Not when she finally finds out who he really is.

Tim's right, karma is a bitch.

"Thank you." Haley is standing beside him, her face bright with the effort exerted, no longer tear-stained. She looks even lovelier up close. "Thank you, Nathan." Her voice is gentle and soft and almost musical. It pierces something inside of him and he can feel the blood rushing to his face. He's done something nice for her. No big grand gestures, nothing expensive or anything like that and yet he feels worthy of the look she's giving him.

It takes him a full second to bask in the light with her, before he reluctantly admits to himself that he's deluding himself. Because what's a few hours of trying to teach a girl how to shoot a ball? It's nothing really, in the grand scheme of things, of life. So Nathan quickly chucks the glowing feeling inside his chest and ruefully shakes his head.

"It's okay, I…it was nothing." He mumbles this almost dejectedly, because it is what it is, and it is nothing. If he can't give her the truth, then everything that he has to offer her amounts to nothing but ashes and dirt and Haley doesn't deserve that.

"No, it really meant a lot to me Nathan." She smiles up at him and before he knows what's happening, she had stepped into his arms.

Nathan moves instinctively. He bends his head a little and smells her hair. He breathes in deeply, her scent filling up his lungs. Dammit. She smells so good. So right. This, holding her, this feels so damn right. Nathan moves his hand to clasp the small of her back, pressing her closer. He closes his eyes, trying to remember everything that this moment has to offer him. He wishes there's some way to bottle this up so he can drink it all. And he won't get greedy. He'd take small sips so he'd always feel this good. Alive. For the first time in so many months. Years, even.

After a few seconds, Nathan feels Haley reluctantly taking a step away from him. He lets go, swallowing hard, missing her warmth, missing her, ridiculous as it may sound, since she's still standing before him, staring into his eyes.

There's something in the way she's looking at him now and Nathan isn't sure what it is, but her face changes, her eyes suddenly going darker.

"Hey," Haley starts quietly, tilting her head, intently watching his face, "Your eyes, they're darker... but... they're the same as Lucas's."