Surprising that I'm updating so soon, isn't it? Lol, I actually have the next chapter almost done, I just need more reveiws to squeeze it out, so be expecting it soon!
They laid together on the floor next to the couch, much like they had done the day of the Sparkle Classic in senior year. Nathan had pulled all of the pillows and cushions off the couch and piled them on the floor, forming a sort of bed, then procured a blanket and draped it over them before turning out the lights. They knew it would have been too much effort to go upstairs, nor did they want to. Instead, they just curled in their safe, soft nest, just the two of them, together. Haley rested in the crook of Nathan's arm, tracing circles on his chest in the darkness.
"What do you think Jamie and the guys are doing right now?" she murmured, concentrating on her rotating finger. Nathan chuckled, the rumbling of his chest disrupting her drawings.
"They're probably watching The Notebook right about now," he laughed. Haley giggled quietly as well. The atmosphere was so warm and comfortable; both were on the verge of falling asleep. Their eyes were shut and the scene around them was hazy with sleep.
Haley felt the aura of the room. "I love nights like these," she whispered. Feeling his body tense up, she quickly added, "I don't mean only the sex, but just being together, without a care in the world."
"Feels good being twenty-two, doesn't it?"
"Mhm. Yeah. Like that time after the rainstorm, when it was just us, for the entire night. That was sweet."
Nathan opened his eyes and sat up a little. "Remember when I snuck in your window that time back in junior year, and we were just lying together? The darkness was just like this, peaceful, still." Haley could almost see him smile, knowing what was coming next. "And then your dad walked in…"
He was cut off by Haley's laughing groan. "Oohh, don't remind me, please," she begged, grimacing. "That was so bad." She pressed her hands over her face.
"Yep," said Nathan, "He never let me live down the "coming in through the window" thing." Haley heard the deep bass sound of his laughter in his chest again.
They were silent for a moment, each lost in memories of the early years of their relationship. "I wouldn't give Jamie up for it though," said Haley presently. "The memories and the jokes. I wouldn't give Jamie or our life now up for any of it back. Like I said, nights like these are great, but what I live for are the nights when our family is together, when Jamie comes barreling around the corner to climb into our laps where he falls asleep. The nights when we go to sleep exhausted, and wake up and do it all again the next day. That's what I love. When we're a family."
Nathan pulled her tighter. "How is this so perfect?" he murmured into her hair.
Then the phone rang, twice as abrasive in the stillness and peace. They groaned simultaneously and Nathan let his head fall back onto the pillows. Haley closed her eyes again and shook her head: "And then, of course, we are reminded that a world exists outside of these four walls. I got it."
Nathan's muffled groan came again as he tightened his arms around her. "Let the machine get it, if someone really wants to talk to us that bad, then they can come over and get us." She jokingly struggled for a moment, then broke loose and bounced up to get the phone. Nathan, grinning, rearranged the pillows and his position for when Haley laid back down again. In the background, he could hear snatches of the conversation from the kitchen.
"Yes, this is she… No, no, it's ok, we were awake…Who's calling?...What?...Ok, thank you. Yes, we will. Thank you."
He heard the phone click off and for a long moment all was silent in the house. Just before Nathan opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, he heard her unusually slow footsteps on the wood. Turning and seeing her body come into view, the smile was wiped off Nathan's face. Haley still held the phone in one hand, and a dumbstruck look was on her face.
"Hales, what's wrong?" he asked, concerned. Something was up.
Haley looked from the phone in her hand back to him. "That was the hospital." She looked utterly confused, but fear was starting to bleed into those brown eyes Nathan loved. "Lucas is in urgent care, going into the ICU. It's bad, Nathan."
Rachel leaned against the bar, staring dejectedly at the drink in front of her, debating whether or not to drink it. She watched a drop of cool condensation roll down the side of the glass before looking around her.
The bar was filled with the lonely and the desperate. So why am I here again? Actually, that was an easy one: the new bar she had been hoping to go to wasn't open yet. Instead, she was here at Tric. But why was she at yet another bar, sipping yet another drink? That seemed even easier. She was here because it was her asylum. Home base. Safe zone. In the last four years, it had become a place to go to drown her problems in the drink of the night, currently a Bacardi, and perhaps to forget her troubles with some random guy she would pick up. Rachel snorted, reliving the truth that she had realized an hour and a half or so ago.
These were the reasons she had wrecked things with Mouth. She had been feeling bad, gone to a bar, gotten drunk, picked up another one night stand, then woken up, wishing that guy was Mouth. And then her dumb ass had gone over there to declare her feelings for him. The damn alcohol and the damn sex had led her to destroy her paper thin relationship with Mouth and his solid relationship with Millicent. Dammit!
Rachel slammed her hand down on the bar, making those nearest her jump. That was it. No more. From now on, there would be no more drinking, no more one night stands, not until it was for the right reasons. Her new resolution was to face her problems head on, not drown them in a shot glass or beer mug or even syringe.
So busy was she brooding that she didn't notice the door open and a new guy enter the bar. She barely felt the atmosphere change, but she sure as hell noticed when he sat down next to her.
"What're you drinking?" His voice was rough, but had a tempered quality to it. Rachel smiled humorlessly, keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead.
"Whatever you intend on buying me," she replied edgily, tracing a finger over the rim of her glass. Just because he bought her a drink didn't mean she would drink it. She still didn't look at him.
He shrugged and leaned back. "Ok, if you want. I guess we'll have…" he beckoned the bartender over, "Two 151's." The bartender nodded and started to turn away. "Hey, and two for her too."
Raising an eyebrow, she said, "Wow. Rough night?" When the mystery guy didn't say anything, she started guessing. "Girlfriend dump you? Lose some money? Lose your job?"
"Bingo," he interrupted, "Lost my job." He seemed so dejected yet he said it so matter-of-factly that Rachel turned and looked at him. The man couldn't be older than twenty five, and he had light, messy brown hair that fell over his greenish eyes. His dark t-shirt clung to his muscular frame, defining every curve and angle. He could've passed for a male model in one of the shows Rachel had done in New York.
Crap. There goes my resolution.
Oh well. It could wait until tomorrow. Tonight would be like a Mardi Gras for her: Party hard and sin harder, doing whatever you can't tomorrow and beyond. Grinning at her clever idea, she downed the two Bacardi's, laughing at Mystery Guy's reaction. Turning fully, she draped one arm over his shoulder.
"So, is that enough for you? Can we go somewhere now, or do you need more?"
He got the hint, unfortunately for her. Rachel saw the disgusted raise of the eyebrow and the much more subtle uncomfortable pulling away. She grimaced internally and lifted her arm off him.
"Uh," he started uncomfortably, "I only bought you those because you were the only person in here who looked as broken as me. I'm married." Rachel looked down and saw him twisting a gold wedding band, and mentally smacked herself.
"I-I'm sorry," she choked out, turning red.
"Yeah," he replied, taking his drink and walking away.
Rachel looked skyward. "Stupid karma," she muttered into her arms as she slumped over onto the bar. Then she heard clapping from somewhere above her. Groaning, she raised her head to see Owen, who she knew vaguely from New York when Brooke brought him up. He was shaking his head, applauding slowly.
"Nicely played," was all he said, smirking.
She was feeling hostile after that rejection. "Don't you dare say a word. I've had a crap day. No, scratch that, a crap week."
"Well, I would say you need to eat better, but I doubt that's the case." Looking up and down the bar to make sure no customers were waiting, Owen leaned on the counter across from her. "What's up?" he asked, shrugging.
Rachel rolled her eyes. "I'm not messing around, Owen." She knew he wasn't being serious, and she wasn't in the mood for it.
"Neither am I. Talk to me." She gave him a dubious look, and he took a breath and began to clean a glass. "Listen, to be a good bartender you gotta be part psychologist. I'm usually listening to all these sob stories: I figure yours would be an interesting change of pace. What's going on in that pretty head?"
Rachel ignored the compliment (or pick up line, she couldn't decide which). But she saw the intense honesty in his eyes, convincing her that he wasn't jerking her around. Heaving a sigh, she told him what had happened with Mouth.
Owen was silent almost the whole way through, and Rachel appreciated his supportive gaze. Upon finishing, she looked down, anywhere but his eyes, waiting on for some reason on baited breath for his negative analysis of her mistake, just like everyone else.
"You're really broken up about this, huh?" he asked finally, after a long silence.
"I just want to make it better," the red-read decided. "And I don't want to screw anyone over unless I have to."
"Well, I believe you. I think we're all just trying to make the best of what we have; you were just looking to see if there was anything with Mouth, trying to find that comfort that few discover. But the point is you realized you screwed up, and you want to fix it. I'd say that's a lot more than some people, and that you've come a long way. That's pretty good, Rachel Gatina." He nodded at her, and they held their gazes for longer than necessary. Rachel finally broke away and nervously checked her phone while Owen poured a drink for a customer a few seats away.
"Oh my god," Rachel suddenly said, staring at the text message she had just received. Owen sidled over.
"What's wrong?" he asked, but Rachel was already grabbing her purse and throwing some cash on the bar.
"I gotta go, I'm sorry Owen." She hurried to the door.
"Wait, what about me?" He yelled, stopping her in her tracks. "What's with us?"
Rachel cocked her head, thinking. "To be determined," she decided, calling back over her shoulder.
Owen grinned that cocky half-smile, seeing the interested look on her face. "How about 'to be continued'?"
Mouth didn't know whether the thick wooden door was stifling his apologies, or if Millicent just wouldn't listen to him, but he guessed it was the latter. Still, he kept trying.
"Milli, please come out. I think you owe me that much, I need to apologize to you. What happened with Rachel was a misunderstanding, and I need you to know that. I need to see you." It seemed to be in vain. Mouth slumped against the wall next to the door of Millicent's apartment where he was calling through the door to her hopelessly. "Millicent, most guys would have given up by now, moved on if someone was being as stubborn as you. But I'm still here, still saying the same thing that I've said since last week. That counts for something, right?" He knew she was in there; he could here things being moved around, shoes clicking quickly on the tile. "Come on, just open the door, Millicent."
The door flew open and banged against the wall, just inches from Mouth's head. Millicent nearly ran through the open doorway, digging around in her purse for something, without even glancing at Mouth. For a moment he was dumbstruck, but then he recovered himself.
"God, Milli, are you trying to kill me?" he demanded, still slightly shocked but not angry. He was just glad she had finally emerged from her hideaway.
Stopping at the top of the stairs, Millicent thought for a moment. "That's an advantage of me running out the door, yes," she decided seriously. Then she turned and continued down the stairs, still looking for her keys in her purse. Her heels tapped on the inexpensive tiles of the stairwell, echoing around the walls. They were the only people going down at this time of night, nearing 9:30.
Mouth jumped to his feet and followed her, trying to get her attention. "Millicent, come on, you're out, can't we talk before you go rushing off somewhere?" Again, Millicent stopped and turned.
"Brooke and Lucas are in the hospital, and I have to get over there. Now." Her tone was very matter-of-factly, like she was telling some random passerby. Millicent didn't wait for him to answer, but set off down the stairs again, and for a moment, Mouth stood there, just as dumbstruck as when the door had nearly hit him.
"Wait, they're in the hospital?" She didn't respond, and Mouth descended as quickly as possible after her. He finally caught his girlfriend-in-limbo at the door. "Wait, I'm coming too." He hooked a hand around her elbow, and turned her back to face him and accept what he was saying.
Millicent's eyes were reluctant. "Why?" she asked, heaving a heavy sigh, like this was just one game that she'd had to play too many times.
"Because, Brooke and Lucas are my friends, and if they're in danger, or hurt, I'm going to be there for them. I'm also going to be there for everyone at the hospital now, like Nathan and Haley." He paused, taking a breath like a diver before taking the plunge. "And I'm going to be there for you too, whether you want me to or not. I'm sorry, Millicent, but that's just how it's going to be. I'm here for you now."
They had made record time on the drive to the hospital.
It had taken Nathan and Haley only seconds to regain their usual rationale after she delivered the news, right about the time they realized Lucas could be dying. "C'mon, Hales, I'll drive," was all Nathan said after he staggered upright. Haley had rushed into the bedroom and grabbed a sweatshirt and the first pair of jeans she could find, while Nathan threw on the basketball shorts and shirt he had been wearing that day. They were out the door in seconds, and Haley put her hair up in a messy, careless bun as Nathan drove through the empty streets of Tree Hill.
The ride had been silent.
The mechanical doors slid open now, flushing the parking lot with a bright, unnatural light. Nathan and Haley hurried in, quickly scanned the waiting room, and found Karen, Andy, and Lily. They were on the far end, huddled together in an anxious group. Karen looked up just as they entered and they two families met in the middle, where Karen hugged Haley.
"Karen, what— they didn't say on the phone— what happened? What's wrong with Lucas?" Haley tripped over he own words in an attempt to get them all out at once. The two women focused only on each other, and Nathan and Andy stood silently behind them, watching the scene. Nathan looked up once to meet Andy's eyes, and Andy nodded at him.
"Haley, I'm so glad you're here. They—they don't know yet, what's wrong. The doctors said that Lucas was on his date with Brooke, and then he passed out. But the doctors should be coming out any second. Who else knows?"
"I called Millicent and told her before we left; I think that she'll tell everyone who needs to know, but I didn't call anyone else. What about Brooke? Has anyone explained what's happened, at all?"
As if on cue, a wiry nurse came out, his eyes scanning the gleaming waiting room for Karen. He found her, checked his notes again, then walked over with a grim face.
"Mrs. Roe?" he asked, though it seemed more of a formality; he knew it was her. Evidently he wasn't very experienced, and was taking this as seriously as possible.
Karen nodded.
"Lucas has stabilized, but barely. Immediate family members can see him through the window…" the doctor trailed off, looking at the large group as if trying to decide who could come in.
"Oh, ok…" Karen looked around as well. The normally courageous woman looked so lost that Nathan stepped up for her sake.
"I'm his brother," he declared. Karen seemed to draw strength from Nathan's solid approach and turned to Andy.
"Will you stay out here with Lily? I don't want her seeing Lucas right now." She took a steadying breath, and Andy agreed, taking Lily's small hand.
The nurse regained his pompous attitude. "What about you?" he asked, addressing Haley.
Haley shrugged nervously. She just wanted to get in and see that Lucas was still breathing; she didn't want to go through a question and answer period. "He's my best friend, I've known him for years—"
"Sorry," the doctor interrupted, "Immediate family only." He didn't seem very apologetic.
She stepped back slightly, suddenly scared. She needed to go see her best friend, even if it were just through glass. Haley looked as lost as Karen had just a second ago. The nurse remained unmoved, but Nathan saw Haley's reaction and bristled. He looked at the impassive nurse, who Nathan was a good six inches taller than and who Nate definitely outweighed, and grit his teeth. Stepping forward to gain the man's attention, Nathan growled decisively, "She's coming."
"But sir, hospital rules—"
Nathan hooked an arm protectively over his wife's shoulder. "She's coming," he repeated, and the nurse paled.
"Fine. Follow me." He looked very apprehensive of Nathan's unspoken threat.
Leading them through a long series of hallways that contained gurneys and other impatient doctors, their nurse told them about Lucas. His tone was very matter-of-fact and business like.
"From what we've been able to piece together from Ms. Davis and what the EMT's told us, Mr. Scott was in a fight, and under a great deal of stress. Also, from preliminary tests, it seems his heart has been working hard for a while now, too hard for his condition. It could be things like sports or stress at work or home. Regardless, it has been weighing on his heart."
Nathan grimaced, remembering the hard workout from this morning, as well as the strain all three coaches had been under since the start of postseason.
The doctor continued in the same tone as before. "Now, since he has HCM the heart was working extremely hard just to keep going from everything lately. When he got into the fight, his heart started working harder, too hard, and Lucas's body realized it could keep this pace for much longer. However, he couldn't slow down, so the body compensated: the heart sped up to a speed much faster than normal and worked less. However, this doesn't mix well with HCM: the body basically lost control, and the heart was pumping so fast that the blood couldn't be used by the cells before it was sucked away again. It's a condition known as Ventricular Tachycardia, or V-Tach, and Mr. Scott just had an extreme variant of it. Eventually, he lost consciousness, and a few minutes later the EMT's arrived and got him here."
Haley took advantage of the nurse's long, dramatic pause. "So what's wrong? He just passed out, right? Was it like a heart attack?" The four turned down another hallway, this one with a sign at the top reading "ICU." They heard Karen take a steadying breath behind them.
"Well, when Lucas was passed out his heart was still pumping, so in that sense it's not like a heart attack." The doctor led them through a door, striding importantly through it before them. He talked over his shoulder as they jogged to catch up. "But, the blood was basically useless, and his brain wasn't getting oxygen. We managed to slow the heart rate down on the way here, and now it's stable again. However, we aren't sure how much damage was done in those three minutes it took for the ambulance to get to the scene, and we won't know until he wakes up, if ever."
When Nathan spoke, his voice was deep and calm, the opposite of the two women with him. He was much better at hiding emotions like these than Karen and Haley. "Well can't you just wake him up? You've got machines or meds for that, right?"
"Again," the nurse sighed impatiently. He stopped before a door and turned to look irritably towards them. "We don't know how much damage has been done, and also don't want to risk hurting him further by trying to wake him up. We can't force a body to regain consciousness. We don't know how he will be when he wakes up, nor, indeed, if he ever will. We are just unsure right now."
At this point, he opened the door and showed them inside. The four were in a small, closet-looking room, lit by one fluorescent ceiling track that cast deep shadows. They crowded inside, looking as one to the single window that displayed Lucas's room.
At first, he looked like he was sleeping. Karen almost smiled. Lucas's hair, which had grown out just long enough to run fingers through, was messy and slightly damp with sweat, just like he looked whenever he woke up in the morning. But then they saw the beeping monitors, the cords that pumped life into his arm, the computers that watched for any differences in his heartbeats and reported them instantly to doctors. There was more track lighting in this room, and it cast a harsh artificial glow. As they looked closer, Lucas seemed to change from the sleeping boy they saw him as; he looked pale and weak, with the lights casting shadows on the wrong parts of his face and making him look gaunt and sunken, like a skeleton. His breaths were shallow and far between.
He looked dead.
Haley broke down in seeing her best friend so helpless, but Karen just looked strangely grave. Maybe it was because she was just too overwhelmed by the whole spectacle that she couldn't react, or so steeled from hiding her emotions over the past few minutes that she couldn't access them. She just stared at her only son's lifeless body, while silent tears slid down Haley's cheeks. Nathan put a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it, the only comforting gesture he could think of, and it probably didn't help much.
Finally succeeding in tearing his eyes away from the sight before them, Nathan turned to the nurse, who had watched them stonily. "How's Brooke?" Haley turned at Brooke's name, instantly feeling guilty for forgetting her friend.
The doctor jumped and checked his papers. "Ms. Davis?" he asked, scanning the clipboard. "Brooke Davis suffered a cut on the palm of her left hand; they're checking her out right now. I'd say they're just going to give her some painkillers and let her sleep for a few hours; she's had a very rough night."
Nathan looked at Karen, who hadn't moved the entire time. "Karen," he murmured. "Ms. Roe, I think we should leave now." It was comforting for Haley to know that Nathan was still in control, still calm, still solid for her. She had someone to lean on.
"W-what?" Karen jumped just as the doctor had done, seeming to rush from a million miles away back into the present. "Uh, ok." She meekly let herself be ushered out the door before she could look back at her first born son again.
Haley was the last to leave. Stopping before the door, she glanced back once more, taking in what could be her last sight of Lucas alive.
The walk back to the waiting room was much different than the first. On the way in, Nathan, Haley and Karen had been tense, clinging to the nurse's every word but somehow not hearing them. Their pace had been quick and anxious, but also fearful. They wanted to get there, but they didn't want to.
On the way back, all the anxiousness in their steps had been replaced with a grave fear. It wasn't outright, quick-breathing, heart-hammering fear, but rather a more gradual, deeper dread that fed off the thought that Lucas could in fact, die. The three of them didn't breathe a word to each other the whole way back, but stayed close together, taking comfort in the others.
Upon their reentrance to the waiting room, Andy saw them and immediately stood, but Karen just looked at him and shook her head. He came over, adopting their grim expressions.
They all stood together.
There was a commotion at the front desk. "What the hell do you mean, you don't know where she is? You're a secretary, you should know everything that goes on in here!"
Looking over, just like every other person in the room, Haley saw Rachel Gatina leaning over the secretary's desk, yelling at the poor woman. "I just want to get in and see Brooke Davis, or even Lucas Scott—" Out of fear for the woman's safety, Haley hurried over and took Rachel by the arm. With a silent apology to the woman behind the desk, Haley pulled Rachel back to where their group was standing.
"Hales," Nathan said as soon as she got back, "I'm going to go call Skills, he can bring Jamie." Haley nodded at him, then glared at the redhead in front of her.
Haley looked distinctly ruffled as she addressed her. "Rachel, I really can't deal with this right now, so just sit, I— I just can't, I don't wanna take any of you BS, ok?"
"Sorry," Rachel murmured, talking quietly as if to compensate for her shouting earlier. "She was being uncooperative." Haley gave a slightly hysterical sob-laugh.
"So did you tell anyone?" she asked.
Rachel shook her head. "I think everyone knows. Millicent told me, Nathan is calling Skills, Brooke and Lucas… well obviously, and Peyton…Oh."
"I got her," Haley said, taking a deep breath and pulling out her cell phone.
"Kinda icy in here, isn't it?"
Derek sat across the living room from his blonde half-sister, who sat curled up in a chair, scribbling on a drawing pad. She looked up, once, but didn't meet his eyes. He smiled and leaned back, knowing what was going through her mind right now.
"Peyton, I know that you're hurt that I'm leaving so soon—"
For the first time since they got home from the Riverwalk, Peyton looked up from her paper and stared him full in the eye. "I'm not mad, I'm not that selfish. I get that you have to leave. But… I just don't know why it has to be so soon." But for all her denial, she certainly seemed mad. Angry that not only was he leaving, that Derek could read her so easily and how he knew what her problem was.
"I have to Peyton, it's my life. I love being a Marine, and it's all I have now."
She waited for a long moment. "It's fine. I do feel kinda selfish, with you. But I remember the last time I tried to hold someone back from what he loves, and it didn't turn out so well, for me at least." Peyton looked back at her paper and scratched in another few shapes.
"I can't draw," Derek said suddenly. Peyton looked up, confused. He shrugged. "I can't. I guess I'm jealous of you too."
Peyton smiled, her icy demeanor falling away. With a sad, self-deprecating laugh at herself, she realized that Derek, despite his lack of artistic skills, was just like her. He knew her too well, and they had only spent a few days together, including four years ago. It was the same sort of disarming thing she would have said.
Derek nodded at the pad. "What's it of?" Peyton looked down, then threw the notebook across the table, where it came to a perfect rest in front of him. Her brother picked it up and studied it for a moment. It was dark outside Brooke's house, and the room was lit by a single lamp between them: it all seemed to make the silence seem quieter, more serious.
The picture resembled those she had drawn in high school. It was a crowd of faceless people, standing to the left. Two figures stood out in the center, and the rest of the crowd faced them. To the right of the page, one form stood alone, its body turned away from the group but its face turned towards them. Its arms were around itself, giving the impression of cold. Invisible wind lifted the figures blond curls up around her face.
Derek looked up at Peyton's blank, waiting face. He looked grim. "Not very subtle, is it?" She glared, and suddenly, from him seeing the picture, Peyton's angry was back. He tentatively slid the pad back to her, realizing he had crossed a line.
Minutes passed. Finally, Derek spoke up again. "What happened on prom night, Peyton?"
Peyton sighed, like it was a story that she'd had to tell too many times, had to relive more than she would have liked. "I opened the door, it was supposed to be Lucas. He turned, punched me, then I blacked out." Her voice was strangely monotone. "I came to a few minutes later, when Lucas was knocking at the door. Ian had a hand over my mouth, and we were pressed against the door. As soon as Lucas left, Ian gave me a shot of something, knocked me out. This time when I woke up, I was tied up in my basement. He took pictures, 'danced' with me." She put air quotes around "danced." Derek listened, his knuckles turning steadily whiter. Peyton's phone vibrated, but she hit a button without looking at it and continued.
"Eventually, it got to the point where I just wasn't thinking clearly anymore. I remember him going to the window, then him walking up the stairs, leaving the door open. I was sure no one could hear me, so I didn't even bother to yell. I just sat there, fading in and out of consciousness.
"Then Brooke came down the stairs. I thought it was him, and my mind cleared a little bit. I saw her, and nearly cried. She was here now, and so was Ian, and we were screwed." She took a deep, slow breath. The story seemed to be getting more difficult to tell. "He grabbed her, tied her up, then went upstairs again. I said something to Brooke, she said something back, and it kinda faded from there. Then Ian had a knife to her throat and I knew that I couldn't let him do it, whether or not I wanted to kick her ass myself. He untied me, since I promised to kill Brooke, then I stabbed him."
For a moment there was a flicker of pride in Derek's eyes, but it was gone before Peyton could look again. "After that, we fought him off together. She saved me, and I saved her."
"You really are my little sister, huh?" he asked, smiling, and the pride was back.
Just then, Peyton's phone vibrated again, this time playing "Pain," by Three Days Grace. Rolling her eyes, she pressed a button and checked the text message.
It's Haley. Since your not picking up, I thought you'd like to know: Brooke and Lucas are in the hospital, and Lucas is in intensive care…
A second later, before Peyton could react, another text message came in, from Haley again.
…You should be here.
"Mrs. Scott?" The doctor standing above her looked different than the rest. He was old, for one. But he had kinder eyes, softer, grayer, than the hard steel of the other doctors around. He watched Haley with a sad understanding as she stood up from the two chairs she had been lying on in the waiting room.
"Yes?" For some reason, Haley felt the strangest sense of dread, just by the way he said her name. Her knees threatened to buckle, but she stood resolutely. God, she wished Nathan were right here next to her.
"I'm sorry to tell you this, but Mr. Scott… passed away a few minutes ago."
The air solidified, like heavy cement around her mouth, like lead that poured into her lungs and blocked her throat and airways. It compressed around her, crushing, pounding. The waiting room disappeared as if someone had switched off a television set; the scene around her sucked away, leaving her in total blackness.
Black, nothing, void, space, numb, dead. Lucas was dead.
No. Lucas couldn't be dead. He was Lucas. He was Lucas Eugene Scott, son to Karen Roe, nephew to Keith Scott, son of Dan Scott, brother to Nathan Scott, boyfriend to Brooke Davis, best friend to Haley James Scott, uncle to James Lucas Scott, brother to Lily Roe, coach and mentor of Quentin Fields, as well as eleven other boys.
And he was also… gone. Just gone.
Hours, or minutes, or eternities later, she found herself in a sitting position, if one could call it that. She was hunched over in her chair, elbows on her knees supporting her head. Haley was trying her best not vomit all over the polished, chrome white floor. Nathan rubbed a hand over her back, looking very troubled as well, trying to comfort her, but it wasn't working. Soft words were coming from his mouth.
"Are you ok, Haley?" A deep, shuddering breath was his only response. "Never mind, that was a stupid question. Hales, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that it happened, and I'm sorry I wasn't here when it happened. I wasn't here for you, to support you." He had to pause, to take in the harsh reality that was facing them. All around the couple, the people that they knew sat in hard backed chairs, staring stonily into space. Skills and Jamie were on their way. Poor kid, Nathan thought suddenly of his son, he won't understand what happened to his uncle. He let out a long, tense breath, and looked back at Haley.
"I'm so, so sorry."
Just like Natha, I'm sorry! But I promise, this will open up new avenues and storylines that I can explore now. Leave a review, so that the next chapter can come out quickly!