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: Hi! Yes, this is an actual update. But first, I need to apologize for not updating for, gulp, two years. Unbelievable, I know. My life has gotten quite busy and writing just had to take a back seat. Now that it isn't as busy crazy as before, I finally got the time to sit down and figure out what to do with this story, so here it. Although I am not sure if there's still an interest in this long abandoned fic, but I hope that the update will not be disappointing, considering how long it took for me to update/post it. Thank you so much in advance for taking your time and reading.
Disclaimers: Standard disclaimers apply. Me don't own. Lines from the show shamelessly borrowed. Please don't sue.

Thirteen

"I don't think that's enough." Nathan observes as Haley finishes off the Cracker Jack. He looks down at her as she very lightly licks her lips, as though chasing some sweet after-taste. Nathan can hear a low buzzing sound inside his head and it takes him a moment to realize that he is actually, shamelessly turned on by that littlest, most innocent of motion. He shakes his head and takes a deep, soundless breath, trying not to look so damn obvious. He can feel his heart pounding inside his chest and he isn't sure how it's possible that Haley cannot hear it. He concentrates on calming himself down that he almost misses Haley's answer.

"No, it's fine. I like it." She gives him a thankful smile, in that same shade of innocence. She doesn't seem to be aware at all of how she's wreaking havoc inside what used to be his carefully guarded, walled-up chest, lungs, the general heart area. Everything that had to do with his breathing seems to be somewhat either controlled or affected by the very nearness of her.

Nathan shifts a little farther away from Haley. Distance is safe. Safer at least. "No, I mean, how about a proper dinner?" He needs this excuse so he can still stretch what limited amount of time he has with Haley. That's secondary of course. His primary concern is Haley's wellbeing. Or vice versa. Or maybe it's a close tie between those two. Nathan cannot decide yet. "We could go to the cafe." He offers instead, giving Haley what he hopes is an encouraging smile. Nothing too eager. It might scare her off. After all, they were still stranger. They had shared one remarkable moment but that didn't make them anymore than barely acquainted. All they had, what connected them together, is a thin red line called Lucas Scott.

Haley bites her lips and shakes her head. "I don't want to go there yet."

And she didn't have to explain. Nathan understood all at once. Too many memories. There were places he avoided after Dan died. Mostly their home. But it wasn't because of memories. A lot of his memories with his dad – both the good and the bad ones – never happened inside their home. It was mostly on the court, or on the road, on the many trips they shared together. Their house was just too suffocating and a lot of it had to do with his mom's grief. His mother hadn't meant to saturate their home with her tears and regrets, but it has a way of clinging to things – invisible little dark clouds of sadness. Nathan hopes for the sake of everyone in Oak Lake that Karen's Café does not suffer the same fate as their house back in Tree Hill did. "We could go anywhere you want." He offers reassuringly.

Haley hesitates. She sits silently for a few seconds, chewing at her bottom lips. Nathan let's her think about it, his eyes never leaving her small figure, almost swallowed up by the dark, leather interior of his car. Nathan wonders at how it's possible that he hasn't grown tired of watching her and he thinks of every little gesture she makes: her head bowed a little, in concentration; her right hand nervously tugging the strings of her newly acquired bracelet; the constant movement of her teeth against her lips. Nathan is fascinated by her. Enthralled by her. Until she looks up at him and promptly breaks the almost hypnotic spell she has on him.

Haley's gaze is steady and inquiring, her brown eyes searching. And for the first time since he'd seen her, a flicker of something dark, something so very akin to distrust – an unvoiced accusation – crosses against her features, very briefly, but it was so clear that Nathan suddenly feels as though a bucket full of ice had been dumped over his head, coldness painfully sluicing down his back. Paralyzing him. He feels his stomach painfully cramping, clenching into a small fist of protest.

"Haley, I – " Nathan hears the broken tone of his voice but he ignores it. He rattles his brain for anything, anything he might have done that could have offended her. That could have hurt her, that could've caused that look…but there is nothing…

She clears her throat, shakes her head and lets out a sigh before finally turning her attention back to him. Her brown eyes clear, bright. Like earlier but different somehow. "Thank you for the cracker jacks Nathan and for the bracelet," she tells him politely. The warmth in her voice had receded. Subtly, but he feels it. Not ice cold. Not yet anyway. She reaches out to squeeze Nathan hands, as though in apology and Nathan reads the hesitation in her touch. He already knows the words she'll say next and it makes him cringe.

"I think I just want to go home now."

Nathan wants to ask her why. He wants to beg her to not make him leave her yet. But he doesn't. He has no right to ask her for any favors. He swallows hard. "Of course," He isn't sure if Haley actually heard him. His words are almost drowned out by the sound of the engine suddenly springing into life. Wordlessly, he pulls out of the parking lot.

Nathan is thankful that at least Haley did not insist that she goes home alone. She's sitting awfully quiet next to him and Nathan is plagued by the many words he wants to tell her. All of them starting off with an apology but he isn't sure what he's supposed to be apologizing for.

He'd already apologized if his behavior and invitation had sounded too forward, that he wasn't trying to intruded in anything, he just wanted to make sure she was okay, because she hadn't eaten and…well, thankfully, Haley rescued him from that awkward apology.

She had smiled gently at him, warmly even, and had reassured him that he hadn't done anything wrong. It's been a long day and she was just tired. She gave him the directions to her place and that was the last thing she had said.

Nathan winces at memory and at the silence permeating inside his truck. Several times, he tried to start a conversation with her but was met with silence. Not entirely unwelcoming but she had obviously spaced out and wasn't really listening to him. He couldn't fault her for that. After all that she'd been through, the last thing he'd expect from her was to be all chatty and friendly.

Nathan understands but he still feels vaguely hurt by her silence. He can feel the muscles of his mouth moving to form a childish pout. He has never wanted anyone's attention so badly before. It feels strange to be on the receiving end of this kind of treatment. He'd spaced out countless of times when he was with other girls, imaging himself to be somewhere else. Often times at a basketball court, visualizing layups and dunks and free-throws.

Nathan wonders where Haley is now. At some place where Lucas is alive and well, the two of them at the café, having coffee, telling each other how their days went. He briefly visualizes himself with them, sitting beside Haley, arms casually draped over her shoulder. The gesture is friendly yet possessive in some way. He's sitting too close to her, his fingers gently curled around her arms. He sees Lucas smirking at them. A knowing, almost playful smirk. That is if Lucas is capable of actually smirking. Nathan involuntarily smiles at that.

This is all inside his head of course and Nathan wonders if this alternate universe can ever be possible. He'll never know and so he let's go of the image – was it a hopeful imaging on his part? Nathan isn't sure. He feels the petulant, childish hurt ebbing away as he lets her silence drape around them, it feels like something wistful. The end of something.

Haley lives almost at the edge of town. Normally it's a fifteen-minute drive from the basketball court where Nathan had found her. On a slow night like this, maybe even less than that. But for the sole purpose of delaying their inevitable parting, Nathan had driven slowly, almost too carefully: his full, undivided concentration on the road, on the shifting of gears, on the glancing at side mirrors, at the checking of his gas. He refused himself stolen, distracting glances. It wasn't until after stopping at a red light and finally gathering enough courage to turn and look at Haley did he realize that she had fallen asleep.

There was something so precious with the sight of her hands curled up underneath her chin, her face so serene. Almost childlike. It touched Nathan and if someone had seen him, they would have noticed how Haley's peaceful countenance had somehow mirrored itself on Nathan's face. They were suddenly younger and free of pain and disappointment and Nathan would've sat there forever watching her sleep if some jackass hadn't blown his horn at him.

The light had turned green and Nathan was forced to leave that moment.

This is how everything will end, he tells himself as he sneaks quick glances – no longer exercising self-control (he's never really quite good at that anyway) – at his sleeping companion. He listens to the sound of her breathing. It's an oddly comforting sound. Calming. He feels his own breathing matching hers and he's so taken aback by this. He's never felt so connected with someone so profoundly. And however short this connection is, the mere thought of severing his ties with Haley, it feels like… well, it makes him feel lost.

Nathan can't understand how it's possible to feel so much for one day, for one person. A part of him, the rational part of him, thinks that it's nothing more than some left over emotions from today. Lucas's death had been so sudden, it had brought out too much feelings. Too strong feelings and that he's merely connecting it with Haley because… and that's when his rational self loses the argument.

Nathan feels the connection with Haley because she'd shown him kindness he's never quite experienced before. Because stranger he might be, she had opened up to him and had let him see her be vulnerable. Until that very last second when she suddenly put up her own walls, so fast and so high, it made Nathan's head spin.

The thought of Haley shutting him out fills him with the sensation of his heart shrivelling inside his chest, but he chose to ignore that. This isn't about him and his feelings.

He takes a deep breath and replays the scene inside his head once more: the look in Haley's eyes when she had told him earlier that she'd rather be home than go anywhere with him. There was something in it that nagged at him; that pulled at the alarm bells inside his head. It isn't full on tolling like crazy, just a slight tug enough for him to know that something is up. A small warning. Like he knew she was already saying good bye – but more than that, like he had somehow, in some way hurt her.

Nathan is desperate to believe Haley when she said that she was just tired, he had heard the sincerity in her voice, but there was something about the way her mood had suddenly shifted that threw him so totally out of balance. It was the thought of him hurting her that bothered him the most. He couldn't accept that. He didn't even want to think of such a concept. The mere possibility of it.

But there must have been something that he had said or done. He's Nathan Scott, after all. Wasn't that what people thought of him most of the time? That he's capable of doing awful things. Even hurting someone like Haley James. Even if he hadn't meant to?

Nathan grits his teeth and shakes his head. He'll go fucking insane if he continue thinking this way. If Haley had said it was nothing, then it must be nothing. He'll leave it at that. The other option was just too painful to bear. He rationalizes that he should not have expected Haley to have trusted him right away. It was impossible. It had never happened to him before – gaining instant trust from a complete stranger – why did he think it'll happen now? He could not fault her for being suspicious of him. She seems like a smart girl, one who would not have welcomed him so easily into her life or trusted him enough to let him drive her home while she slept in the car.

Mourning makes you do weird shit. Grief guarantees that you'd do things you never thought you're capable of doing.

Nathan shrugs off the bitter disappointment before it lodges somewhere deep in his heart. He has to learn to accept this sort of things. He reminds himself that he was only trying to help Haley. To ease some of her pain.

Over the course of the few hours he'd spent with Haley, Nathan has forgotten how he's not supposed to want Haley. He reminds himself of this and he starts to dial down his interest in her, his slowly growing, unexplainable need for her.

It's futile. It's not meant to be. And more importantly, it's over, even before it had started.

And really, what more can he ask for? He has Keith back in his life. Mrs. Roe does not think he's a horrible person – in fact, if he hopes hard enough – maybe Mrs. Roe doesn't even blame him and his mother for all the terrible things that had happened to her and Lucas all those years ago.

Most of all, he had his moments with Haley, didn't he? He'd helped her somehow. Wasn't that what he's meant to do? He concentrates on keeping his eyes on the road, away from Haley; Haley the sunbeam. Yellow and light and pure and true.

Nathan's head is filled with all sorts of adjective for her. He thinks they're all inadequate, but maybe someday, when he's ninety-five and sitting by the fire, when he's finally wiser, he'd remember Haley and her yellow dress and he'll finally find the perfect word to describe her.

Without warning, a word blazes inside his head, its fiery possessiveness surprises him.

Mine.

It burns him to his core but he casts the word aside, flings it far away from him so that he won't be tempted to ever think of it. Let it be a dream, an unfulfilled wish – but a wish nonetheless.

Mine.

He grips the steering wheel as he turns at a corner, angry at himself for how little control he has over his mind. Or heart. Or both, actually.

Mine.

He speeds up a little, almost suddenly eager to get away from Haley. It can't be normal or healthy to feel this way. To be so out of control over everything. Nathan isn't used to this and he's sure that if he even so much as tries he'll only end up ruining it. Just like his dad ruining all the good things.

Stepping down on the gas, trees almost hurtling past them, Nathan nearly misses it, but he stops just in time as soon as he sees it. It's exactly as Haley had described it.

The four-storey white and blue apartment building stood like a solitary sentinel over a mini-garden forest. There's a small fountain in front and as he lowers the window the sound of water splashing and spluttering fills the car, chasing away the silence inside the car.

Nathan tilts his head to scan the doors. Five doors on every floor, he counts them, one to ten, until on the third floor, the first door on the left, he catches a glimpse of the gilded number 11, marking Haley's apartment.

There are pots of purple flowers on the small terrace jutting out from the left side of her apartment. There's a small glass top table with an abandoned cup of coffee sitting right at its very edge. He can imagine Haley sitting there the night she got the call that Lucas had died. She would've left in a hurry, confused, in denial, trying not to cry. He wishes there was another cup, at least for someone to have been there with her, it seemed to awful to even think about her being all by herself when she received that call. He can see her small form standing rigid by the table, the shock of the news turning her blood ice cold, her hands gripping the phone…Nathan stops the mental images right there.

He should not be fantasizing about these sorts of things. Prior to today, he didn't even know of Haley's existence. How can he make picture-perfect imaginations of her daily life? Nathan distracts himself by sweeping his eyes over the small terrace. He can see little bulbs hanging by the railings. In daylight, it must look such a pretty, delicate sight, the flowers and the table and curled and curling iron railings. Something so very Haley-like. At night, with all the lights turned off, it seems almost like a sad, forgotten space.

Nathan lets out a mournful sigh. It seems fitting. This is where he'll have to say goodbye. An agonizing pang reverberates inside his chest. Nathan doesn't want to leave her yet. He doesn't want her to leave him yet. He wants to stay with her. Nathan turns his head to face Haley and is surprised to find her looking at him, that same searching look in her brown eyes. Inquisitive. He feels breathless, exposed, like she has a way of seeing all the thoughts that had been running inside his head. Before Nathan can even say anything, before he can even open his mouth, Haley is already inviting him to come up to her place.

"Just for a cup of coffee." She adds almost shyly, as though she had read something in his face that had caused her to suddenly blush. Nathan can see the reddening of her cheeks.

Nathan didn't even bother to hide the pleased smile stretching across his face. He doesn't even think twice. He nods his head, grateful, happy. And he is suddenly filled with light inside of him.

At this point, Nathan is sure of this, he never wants to leave Haley. Ever.