Author's note: Ok. Uhm. Not too happy about this chapter. It feels muddled up because... I don't know it's a filler chapter of sorts so. I was thinking of doing it in Jake or Tim's POV but in the end decided with keeping up with the format since I am like five or six chapters away from ending this whole thing. Yes. The end is near. Finally. Anyway, so... please let me know what you think. Comments and reviews are greatly appreciated. I might actually come back and do some more editing with this one. I don't know. I will make a note of it on the next chapter if changes were made. :)

Thank you so much for all of your wonderful reviews. It has really motivated me to keep on writing this and to see this to its end.

Also, happy 17th anniversary to One Tree Hill. I love this show, this cast and most of all, this fandom. It's home :)

Seventeen

He'd never had a good cry before. Probably because men aren't supposed to have good cries. He'd never seen his father cry, ever. Problems were dealt with clenched teeth, a hardened face, sharp eyes and even sharper words. A quivering jaw was the extent of emotion Scott men are supposed to show when things get too much. Some wall punching, or kicking stuff – just don't break bones. Too risky especially if you're whole life depended on your ability to flex your wrist, run full courts in less than fifteen seconds.

Be angry but don't be stupid about it and injure yourself.

He knows where he got that little nugget of wisdom. But where did Dan learn it from? His grandfather. And his grandfather from his own father and so on and so forth. A long line of Scott men who were supposed fight off grief and pain and heartache with quiet, teeth-clenched anger.

Nathan rubs his face, quietly sniffing. He isn't ashamed to have broken that cycle. Scott men – well, not all, most Scott men, probably – prided themselves for all the wrong reasons and while maybe, years ago, that had been the only way to deal with adversities, with failures, with broken hearts, it was crippling. A burden too unnecessary and heavy to carry.

Much like guilt and regret.

And anyway, now that he had actually done it – fully surrendered himself to grief and pain – he does not feel any less of a man. If anything, he feels strangely renewed. Like having a hard run in the rain, everything washed away clean, his chest about to burst but in a good way.

His head clear, his heart lighter than it had been in years, Nathan knows exactly what he wants – no needs – to do. He's done with mourning, of not living his life. He has to grow up. Maybe he already has, starting with that cry.

Nathan thinks, yes, this is a rebirth. His rebirth.

But first, he needs to eat something. Can't be making life changing missions on an empty stomach.

It isn't a long drive and he finds them back at the café. Exactly where they'd been seating just this morning. It feels like a whole lifetime had passed in between but there they are and there is nothing more comforting at how predictable and reliable his friends are. They had always been the one steady thing in his life. Nathan couldn't help but chuckle at the side eye glances Tim and Jake were exchanging as he saunters over to them.

"What have you been doing Nate?" Tim asks, eyeing him. "You look like ass, man."

"Smells like one too." Jake quips, pushing a plate of fries his way. Nathan grabs a handful, stuffs his face while signaling to the waitress for another order.

"Starved. Let me eat first, okay." He tells them when he's finally finished chewing.

"Oh c'mmon. You can't just swagger your way here and not tell us what happened in Oak Lake. Gimme the lowdown and don't be stingy with the deets."

Jake makes a face and glares at Tim. "Who the hell talks like that?!"

"Your man, Tim The Smith, yo." Tim answers, nodding his head looking extra pleased with himself. He makes weird hand signs, fingers twisting in what Nathan is supposed to mean something cool or whatever.

Jake slaps Tim's hand away. "You've been watching too much gossip shows, sounds like."

Tim shrugs. "I like gossip, not gonna lie."

Jake and Nathan shares a look before bursting into unmanly laughter.

"You guys are sexist shits. I'm disgusted by your behavior."

Jake and Tim starts arguing about the misconception of gossip and women and how, in fact, it's the men who are into talking shit about everyone's lives. Nathan ignores them as his food arrives. He mumbles a quick thanks at the waitress before taking a deep breath. He hadn't realize how hungry he was until he smelled the food. What was the least meal he'd had? The breakfast from earlier? His stomach growls in confirmation and he practically inhales his burger, taking huge bites.

"Dude, slow down." Jake idly comments in a tone that only a father of a ravenous daughter could. How many times have Nathan heard Jake tell Jenny this same thing as she tries to eat a piece of cake or two scoops of ice cream, all in one bite.

Tim elbows Jakes as he leans forward, arching his eyebrows. "Worked up an appetite over at Oak Lake, huh?"

Nathan gives him a warning glare.

"What? You keep coming back there, Nate. Can't be healthy."

Tim didn't mean this in the skipping of meals way and Nathan understands where the worry is coming from. It's not like he has all the answers on why he could not just let this day go. This hasn't been just any normal day. Too much have happened, he could not be faulted for acting strangely. He gives a wordless shrug.

"Cause of the girl?" Jakes bravely asks and Nathan almost chokes on the soda he was chugging down.

Tim looks genuinely confused. "Girl, what girl? You mean Peyton?"

"No, not her. Girl in yellow dress, big brown eyes, about this tall." Jakes holds up his hand, making it look like Haley is about as tall as Jenny and Nathan rolls his eyes at this.

"Bambi?"

"Her name's Haley." Nathan grits out, even though he's sure that the nickname isn't meant to be demeaning. After all, it is true. The memory of her warm eyes, liquid brown, is enough to start the itch to get going, the call to go back to Oak Lake, an invisible thread pulling him towards her.

"Hey, relax Nate. I was just kidding." Tim tilts his head in silent consideration, twisting his mouth. "She does not seem to your type, though."

Jake violently flicks Tim's ear. "Dude, shut up."

Nathan feels slightly annoyed but he couldn't really fault his friends who had seen him hook up with countless women. "No it's alright Jake." He leans forward, gives Tim a challenging look, one he knows Tim is all too familiar with. "And what is my type?"

"Just not the good girls. You want to see a poster for Good Girls? There's Haley's face."

Jake shakes his head. "And how would you know?"

"Because I've met her too, remember? She gives off that - vibe, you know. Sweet. Naïve. Innocent. Those eyes." Tim says this a little too dreamily for Nathan's liking, but again, not like he can deny it.

Haley James's face, open and warm, tear stained though it may have been, it's exactly how Tim described it. He feels his heart skipping a beat, just thinking about her. Nathan rolls his tongue inside his mouth, scrapes it against his teeth and tastes the bitter tinge of denial – of a lie – before spitting it out, hoping to end the conversation. "Not into her."

But if there is anyone who has the balls to demand the truth from Nathan without flinching, it has always been Tim. His oldest friend, who knows exactly what to say and how to say it. "So, you won't mind if I -" Tim licks his lips.

"Don't even finish that sentence." He didn't mean for it to sound too menacing but maybe it did lack the required threatening tone, because Tim only grins at him, shrugging.

"Why? I happen to like good girls." Suggestive wriggling of the eyebrows.

"Tim, seriously. Quit it." This time, Nathan adds a brief kick underneath the table.

Jake yowls in pain. "Fuck it Nate, that's my leg. Jesus." Bending down to rub the sore spot, Jake gives Tim a tiny snarl. "He's into her, ok Tim. You got him, now let it go before the under the table kicking escalates to a full blown food fight. You're both immature jackasses."

Nathan doesn't even bothered to make another attempt at denying something that is, apparently, already too obvious. Tim, on the other hand, isn't done yet. "You said it yourself, Nate. You said you have no time for the good girls. You didn't want to know them and you definitely don't want to date them." Tim turns to a still-grumbling Jake. "What was the name of the girl we were trying to set up Nathan with after his last, final final break up with Peyton?"

Jake wordlessly shrugs his shoulder, feigning disinterest, but his eyes were bright and alert. He clearly does not want to get in the middle of this but Nathan knew who Tim meant, "Millicent Huxtable." He couldn't help wincing as he suddenly recalled how that went.

"You - you remember!" Tim sputters out, sounding both surprised and impressed. He quickly shakes it off, "You should. You stood her up." He adds, giving Nathan a rare scolding. "Jerk move, by the way."

Tim has given Nathan more credit than he deserves, always had his back and had never been one of the ma ny sycophants that used to surround him during his basketball heyday. Nathan is not one to shy away from a telling off, especially if it's from Tim. He almost always deserves it anyway.

Nathan leans back against his seat, raising his hands, "Whoa. I didn't stood her up. I just had to cut the date short because – well, because it was so obvious that it wasn't going to work out and it was way too awkward for the both of us. I did both of us a favor." A memory of Millicent painfully grimacing when they couldn't find anything to talk about flashes inside his mind.

"So, you also remember what you said when we asked why?"

Nathan shakes his head. He did not remember his reason. He has, over the years of being a certified selfish jackass, accumulated a collection of half assed explanations to his actions. All of which he could deftly pull out – like a magician and his rabbit out of a magic hat. It takes a certain skill to still be charming while dishing out lame excuses.

Tim raises his eyebrows, pauses for a whole second for the full effect. "You said good girls are too much of an effort."

Ah. Not really an excuse. More of an admission. "And it's still true." Nathan turns to Jake, trying to prove a point. "Jenny's a good girl. You want a guy who'd give his best. Exert effort. Real work in making their relationship work, right?"

Jakes throws a crumpled tissue at him, glowering. "My daughter's not even in High School man, shut the fuck up. She's not dating until she turns thirty-five-ish."

"Yo, dude, that ain't right." Tim briefly forgets about Nathan, as he gives Jake a light shove, trying to make him take back what he'd just said. "Don't be like one of those hypocrite parents. You gotta be the cool dad."

Jake swipes at Tim's hand, hissing at him. "Stop it. You wait until you have your own daughter and then you can decide when you'll let her date. There will be no disgusting boys around my daughter until I am old and blind."

"But you'd demand that from anyone who'd want to date your daughter." Nathan pushes on, not wanting this conversation slip into another mindless exchange of quips and jokes. He has to make an important point here.

"Yeah, we get what you mean." Tim is rolling his eyes at him, shaking his head and making stupid faces. He stretches out his arm across the table, hands clasped together. "You're saying, this girl – Haley – you're willing to do the work? Effort and all that jazz?" At the word, jazz he unclasps his hands, wiggling his fingers infront of Nathan's face.

"Been watching 'Bring it On Again', Tim?" Jake asks, slapping away Tim's jazz fingers.

Nathan ignores them. He hears Tim's question, really hears it and the answer is an immediate yes! But Nathan keeps his mouth closed. He knows it, feels it. That this time, it's different. That even now, he's already laying out his next plan as soon he leaves this café and yes, he wants to drive back to Oak Lake and pound on Haley's door, beg her to take him back in because – because he has to tell her. The truth about Lucas.

He connects us. This invisible string tugging me to you. You feel it too, don't you? It's him. It's Lucas.

There's an audible woosh of breath from both Tim and Jake and Nathan realizes that he didn't have to say anything. They already knew his answer. It's all over his face. It's in the way he hadn't brushed the question aside with vague excuses, with self-depreciating jokes about him not being good enough for Haley. The denial of we barely know each other. The logical, it's too soon. Even shut up, you guys are crazy – though often used – would have allowed Jake and Tim to go back home with the assurance that Nathan isn't going to do something stupid but yes – the way he shoves his hand into his hair, pulling strands up in disarray is a sure sign that stupid is about to happen and there's nothing that they can say or do that will dissuade him.

They all silently decided not to acknowledge this, as they drank from their glasses, taking this tentative mental step towards a world where Nathan Scott finally wants the good girl. Wanting of course, is never the same as getting. So who knows where this would lead? If it would lead to anything.

Triple sound of glasses hitting the wooden table as they set their drinks down.

Tim wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and asks, flippant as ever: "You guys ever been in love?"

"God, I need vodka for this kind of conversations." Jake eyes his emptied soda with palpable regret.

"Never been in love. That's for losers." The last part, Tim adds, sounds more like an afterthought. A way to get a reaction from them but Nathan isn't biting and Jake is still trying to turn the pitcher of water in their table into something alcoholic just by intensely staring at it.

"What, you two too embarrassed to admit how often you've been W-H-I-P-P-E-D" Tim makes whipping gestures, taunting them.

"Yeah? What about the girl from this very café?" Jake sneers at Tim, abandoning his efforts of changing water into vodka. Nathan can almost sympathize. They don't serve alcohol in the café and no one is about to suggest going to a bar now. Well, not yet, at least.

Tim stops moving almost immediately, his face turning a deep shade of red. "That's different." There's that familiar whining tone in his voice, when he's realizes he's pushed too hard and tables are about to be turned.

"How is that different?" Jake is now relentless and Nathan thinks he'll be placed in the hot seat soon and what's he going to say? Yes? No? Never? Not yet? How does one even know?

"I love her but not her her. I mean, I didn't even, like know her. I just love the way she sashayed into the room, even though she's wearing an apron and holding a dirty rag. I love her dimples. The way she won't let me ask her out."

"Shot you down, didn't she." Jakes snickers at this.

"Barely even got to ask her dude. Like, I can't even – look, it's stalkery but I never actually talked to her." An embarrassed, almost tender confession.

"That's pathetic, Tim." Jakes is now guffawing, clearly enjoying seeing Tim squirm. That Nathan has yet to say anything seems to be pushing Tim and Jake to do all the talking. It is as if – but, no… could it be possible? That his friends are trying to distract him? Make him stay and forget about going back to Oak Lake? Back to Haley James and the ghost of his brother waiting for him there. It's almost touching, this roundabout way of trying to protect him from – well, no one really, but himself and his tendency to be impulsive and reckless.

A bad habit he can't just outgrow.

"You love Nikki?" Nathan blurts out, really wanting to know the answer.

Jake seems taken aback, but he's dealt with him being both drunk and belligerent and this was nothing. "Love. Loved." Jake corrects himself. "Before, yeah. Sure. I guess."

"She's the mother of your child. Sure I guess, is a horrible answer." Tim jumps in, bug eyed.

"And might I add totally crazy. Bitch tried to take Jenny away from me." There's a tired slump in Jake's shoulder at the mere memory of what he'd gone through but he quickly shook it off, like shedding the past and Nathan envies Jake for how easily he seemed to do this.

"Oh. Yeah. Well, there's that. Deal breaker, huh?" Tim sneers, just a little bit, clearly remembering that Jake had been crazy in love with Nikki. Not that it lasted longer than a couple of months. Fourteen months, to be exact.

Jake doesn't bother answering and nothing is said after that. They all know the hell Jake went through during those months when Nikki suddenly went all out crazy on Motherhood. They all knew she wasn't good for Jenny but she was still the mother and no matter how much Jake had sacrificed for Jenny, it would not matter, not when you have someone as manipulative as Nikki who could turn on the water works in two seconds flat. Nothing is fair in this life. They all learned that lesson early enough. The only reason why Nikki had eventually backed down was because, surprisingly enough, Dan Scott had used his money and influence. To what extent, Nathan didn't know. Jake just told him to thank Dan for him and that was it.

Nathan hadn't bothered to ask his father. He thought it was just one of Dan's many schemes to make him look like the good guy, to gain back – whatever it was that Dan sought for: affection? Trust? Gratitude? Maybe it was something he could hold over Nathan's head when he wants to demand something from him. Another one of Dan Scott's many mysterious, unexplainable acts. His father was a walking puzzle never meant to be solved.

"How about you Nate?" Tim, of course.

He takes a deep breath. The hard assed, regrettable truth? "Never."

"Never?" Jake clearly does not believe him.

"Never." Nathan's answer is firm, unshakeable.

"Bullshit, Nathan."

"Never." It's a tragedy, Nathan knows – understands – it now, but he isn't going to pretend to know what love is. He loves basketball. He loves the game, what it had given him. He loves Tree Hill, it's his home, how could he not? He loves his friends. He loves his mom and his dad, despite and in spite of their complicatedly fucked up relationship. But he had never been in love. To say yes now would be a lie and he's done with that. No more lies.

Nathan knows what attraction feels like, he knows lust, he might even know obsession to a certain degree, but not the unrequited yet hopeful romantic love of Tim or Jake's intense, no matter how brief, love that resulted in a daughter. So, yeah. Never.

"Bullshit." Jake glares at him. "Bull-fucking-shit."

"Hey, so he hasn't been in love. Lay off man." Tim ever the peacemaker. He's beginning to regret asking the question. Nathan can see it in the way Tim is nervously tapping his fingers against the table.

Jake shakes his head. "There's got to be one. All those women, not one. You're going to be like Tim who just let every girl be the one that walked away from him. Forever."

"Hey," Tim protests with a pout, "you make it sound so depressing."

Nathan is still silent, still struggling with his own answer.

"So what's this thing with Haley then?" Jake has never been one to back down, always forcing people into telling their truths whether they want to or not because this was something he also learned from Crazy Nikki. He'll press and press, until the truth is squished out from you. Life is too short for all the pretentious shit we try to hide from. Words of wisdom from Jake Jagielski, from a man too young to have been abandoned with a child when he had barely an adult. They all have their wounds and their own walls put up to protect what was once (still?) damaged.

Nathan was once wired this way too. He demanded and pushed and pushed until someone snapped. His aggression, dangerously pent up, deflated like a balloon, pricked by his father's death because then, where was all that anger supposed to go? The dead can no longer push back. He understands where Jake is coming from, what Jake is trying to say without having to outright say it. What Jake wants him to admit to himself first, before anything else – before this thing with Haley spirals out of control, becomes something Nathan can no longer escape.

Because this isn't just about him, anymore. He's already touched Haley's life now. A world is about to open up and he has to be sure if he wants to be a part of that.

Nathan licks his lip. "I don't know. How am I supposed to know? I just – I can't get her out of my mind. She's taken roots."

Tim makes a face. "Roots, as in, trees and plants roots? I don't get it."

"Tell her." Not even an advice from Jake. A straight up demand. A silent and if you won't, then don't bother, don't come back. Let this night be the last night. If you can stand it to end that way. End it now.

Nathan presses his palm against the table, slides it so he can grip the edges, knuckles turning white. "Tell her what exactly? Help me out here. Which one should I tell first? That I'm her best friend's half-brother who stole the life he could have had at Tree Hill?"

There. He's said it. He has admitted it – this lie, this excuse, this inescapable truth – one of that, or all of that, whatever. It's what he feels. It's what he fears. That somehow, someway he had a hand in his brother's life. This path that lead to this day. He has to have some part in it, right? Impossible that he's just an innocent bystander in all of this. That this was the life Lucas had meant to live, because what if - what fucking if -

"You didn't steal anyone's life Nate." There is something terrifyingly calm in the way Jake tells him this. The absolute surety of it feels like a punch in his chest. reproach

Nathan's grip slackens and he lets his hand fall gracelessly, like dead weight, fist in his thighs. He shakes his head, still unable to accept what his friend was so kindly offering him. Could it be that it easy? Should it be that easy? No. It can't be. It's a trick. Nothing is ever given freely. If he takes it, it will come with consequences.

He shakes his head. Vehement. "So what else could I tell her? You want soul baring, heart shredding stuff? How about, I wish to God Dan didn't abandon Lucas and his mom, who knows, maybe he'd still be alive then. They'd still have him. She wouldn't be so… so heartbroken."

Jake scoffs. "And what? You and Lucas could've become brothers? And somewhere along the line, somehow she and Lucas meets and they become friends and then you could've ended dating her, marrying her? Having kids with her?"

"That's crazy talk, Jake." It's a mumbled reproach from Tim who has suddenly lost all his jokes.

"Don't I know it? But since Nathan started it, why can't I weave my own fantasy here?" Jake gives him a challenging look. Gloves are about to come off. A boxing expression. Nathan inanely wonders for a second if there's a basketball counterpart to that. A bench clearing? The bench is about to be cleared off. Yeah. Could work.

"Nathan!" It's Jake's turn to give him a light kick, which he quickly evades – instincts – and Nathan snaps at him. "Shut up, Jake. You don't know shit."

"Oh, really? Cause it's just your dreams that got washed away, Scott and you deserve all these fucked up things happening to you? You got something to prove here? You wanna be some imagined martyr to make you feel better? Is that it? Because, Nathan, you're not the only one having a fucking crummy life but you're obviously the only one who actually wants to live that way."

And this is no longer about Haley James. No this is about the way he had been living his life even before he met Haley, before Lucas died. It all comes down to how everything in his life had been tied to basketball and his father and when he lost both, it felt like he had lost half of himself. And this Nathan Scott that didn't play, that didn't have Dan breathing down his back, pushing him, proudly pounding his back, daring him to be even better – this Nathan Scott felt like a stranger to him.

He'd been nothing but a walking shell, without direction and dream, without hope, without anything. Because what else was there?

Everything else. That's what. Everything else that he could still be. And it had frightened him because he had known greatness, potential fulfilled. And outside the court, without the game he loved – still loves – could he ever be great again? Could he ever offer something other than winning big games, breaking scoring records?

Yes. Yes. Yes.

But first, he must believe it. Believing it is the hardest part.

Nathan abruptly stands up, shoving his hands into his hair and then into his pocket where he clutched a couple of bills, tossing it on the table, not caring whether it was enough or too much or too little. "I gotta get outta here." He tells Jake and Tim, not meeting their eyes. Not wanting to see anything in their eyes that would show pity or understanding. "Look, I'm sorry and I appreciate all of this – I know what – I know, so thanks." He gives them an apologetic shrug for the inadequateness of his words. They'd know what he means. He turns and has taken a two steps away from the table when he hears Jake call out.

"You can't exchange lives with the dead, Nate."

He stops, lets his head hang for a few seconds, before turning to look at Jake. "Who says I want to?"

"Then stop acting like it."

Nathan feels his teeth sink into his teeth and nods his head and walks away. He knows that. God, he knows that. He sends Lucas a silent apology because he didn't want to live Lucas's life. It has never been about that. What he wanted now was to have been part of his brother's life. Not to know it in pictures and pieces and remembered anecdotes. But this is was he has to live with it and he's ok with that.

Because it's true what everyone says about grief and moving on: the first real step is acceptance.