Author's Notes: Good gosh, I can't believe it's been over a month since I updated. My apologies, and although I hope that I'll be able to post a new chapter every other week or so, I can't promise. I appreciate all the feedback I've received, it means the world. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's from Nathan's POV but we finally have some Naley interaction. The next chapter will be all Naley.

Thanks again for the feedback!


Nathan eyed the woman sitting a few feet down from him at the bar. She was attractive, a petite thing with wavy dark hair that skimmed her shoulders, and a tight body according to the clothes she wore. He noticed her when she first walked in—how could he not, when she was the only person in there other than the bartender Chad. Or was it Chet? It was some stupid sounding name, he knew.

The woman—Haley, Chuck called her—was muttering to herself, quietly enough that Nathan couldn't hear what she was saying. That was all well and good because Nathan had no desire to talk to anyone. He came here to drink, not to talk, and anyone who approached him quickly learned that he wasn't looking for conversation. He knew why he was here in the middle of the afternoon—he was a fucked up excuse for a person—and he figured anyone else who was here was just like him, and he certainly wasn't in the mood to deal with someone just as screwed up as him.

Putting the woman out of his mind, he focused on the glass in front of him. The amber liquid was his only comfort now; it was the only thing he cared about. Attempting to forget the fight with Lucas that led Nathan to the bar, he raised the glass and took a long swallow, ignoring the burn of the alcohol down his throat. He finished the drink and looked up to signal the bartender—Chance? Charles? Whatever the fuck his name was—only to find him gone.

"Damnit," he muttered as he glanced around. "Where the hell did he go?"

"Probably in the stock room."

Nathan glanced at the woman sitting a bar stool away. "Yeah? Well, doesn't he realize his job is to serve drinks? And I need a drink," he said as he shook his empty glass, the ice tinkling lightly.

The woman shrugged. "Technically, he's the bar manager so his job involves more than just making drinks."

Nathan stared at her. What the fuck did he care? He just wanted a goddamn drink. "I take it he's a friend of yours?"

Shrugging again, the woman sipped her drink. "I guess. Or no, I don't know anymore. Anyway, Chase keeps several bottles just under the counter. You can reach over and grab one." She looked at Nathan and nodded towards the bar. "Seriously, just grab one. It'll be fine, don't worry. Besides, I'm going to need a refill soon anyway."

Pausing, unsure if he should proceed, Nathan checked around the bar. It was just he and the woman, Chase—Nathan knew it was a stupid name—still gone. He needed a drink but was wary. He didn't usually care what others thought of him, but was he really that desperate for a drink that he would just bypass all forms of normal behavior? Wouldn't this just signal how far gone he was?

"Oh, for pete's sake, all you have to do is this," the woman snapped as she reached over the bar and grabbed a bottle. "See? Not so hard."

She poured herself a drink—a healthy one, Nathan noticed—before sliding the bottle to him. Nathan grabbed it and stared at the bottle. Lucas's words from earlier that afternoon echoed in his head.

Don't you want to be better than this?

Is this really how you want to spend your life? Drunk and alone?

You're pathetic, Nate.

"Ah, fuck it," Nathan mumbled as he tipped the bottle and filled his glass. Nodding at the woman, he raised his glass. "Here's to assholes who think they have all the answers."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Friend?"

"Brother," Nathan grunted. "He's the reason I'm here."

"Bad fight?"

"You could say that."


"Is this how I can expect to find you from now on? Passed out after another night of drinking?"

The loud, angry voice of his brother startled Nathan awake. He yawned, his lips dry and chapped. His tongue felt fuzzy and his mouth was uncomfortably dry. Ignoring his brother's glare, Nathan reached towards the coffee table for something to drink. He grabbed the first bottle he touché and brought it to his lips, only to find it empty. Cursing under his breath, he grabbed another bottle and was disappointed yet again to find it empty.

"They're all empty, jackass," Lucas said as Nathan slowly sat up to lean back against the couch. "Probably why you passed out, huh?"

The derision in his brother's tone caught Nathan's attention. He was hung over, hungry, and not in the mood to deal with another of Lucas's lectures. "What the fuck ever, Luke," he said as he rubbed his bleary eyes. "So I drank a little too much last night. Big fuckin' deal."

Nathan heard Lucas sigh and felt his brother's gaze on him but refused to acknowledge it. When it became too much, when the weight of Lucas's gaze threatened to suffocate him, Nathan barked, "What?"

Lucas shook his head, his expression one of disappointment. Waving his hand around the messy room, he said, "Is this how it's going to be, Nate?" Walking over to the curtains, Lucas pulled them open, Nathan wincing as the bright sunlight flooded the previously darkened room. "Is this," Lucas questioned as gestured toward Nathan and the room, "really how you want to spend your life? Drunk and alone?"

Blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the now brightly lit room, Nathan tried to ignore the pounding in his head. His head felt as if a herd of elephants were marching in his skull, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to close his eyes and go back to sleep. His gaze drifted from his older brother, eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and disappointment, to the room around him. Empty beer bottles littered the coffee table and the surrounding floor. Discarded takeout containers were scattered amongst the dirty clothes that overtook the small living room. An overhead fan slowly rotated, its movement not enough to disturb the still air. The smell of trash and unwashed laundry hung heavy in the air.

It was a messy, disheveled room, echoed by the man sitting on the couch. Unkempt hair framed bloodshot eyes and a scraggly beard. His face was wan and haggard, his mouth set in a grim line. A ragged t-shirt and a pair of loose gym shorts hung on his well-built frame; an angry, red scar stood out against the pale skin of his right knee.

"I didn't ask you to check on me, Luke."

"I know, little brother. But if I didn't, who would?"

Nathan snorted. Since he had moved back to Tree Hill, he made it a point to avoid interaction with all but a handful of people: his brother, an occasional woman he met at a bar and brought home, and whatever delivery person brought his food. And sometimes he wished he could avoid Luke. He loved his brother but the lectures and recriminations got old fast. If he had to hear one more "If you would just stop drinking…," he was going to scream.

"Ever think maybe I don't need someone to check on me like a child?" Nathan muttered as he forced himself to stand, taking a deep breath when his stomach roiled at the movement.

Rolling his eyes, Lucas followed Nathan as he walked into the kitchen. "Well maybe if you grew up and started dealing with your problems rather than drink them away, I wouldn't have to."

Nathan had grabbed a glass from the cabinet but at his brother's words, he slammed the glass on the counter. "Goddamnit, Luke. Can you give me five minutes before you start in on me? Jesus. I just woke up."

"Exactly, Nathan. It's 11:30 in the morning and you're just now waking up after passing out. Again. How many times has it been this week? Three? Four?"

Shrugging, Nathan walked past his brother back into the living room. Throwing himself back on the couch, he reached for the remote to turn on the television. Intent on ignoring Lucas and yet another lecture, he began flipping channels.

Lucas sat beside him on the couch and the brothers sat in silence for long minutes. Nathan knew that Lucas wanted to say something, he knew his brother had yet more disapproval to voice, but Nathan wasn't going to make the first move.

Twenty long, silent minutes before Lucas cracked. "Don't you want to be better than this? More than just an empty shell? A guy who is angry or drunk all the time?"

Nathan sighed and dropped his head to rest on the back of the couch. He closed his eyes and thought of what had once been his life. Fame, money, women, he had it all. And now, because of some stupid decisions, he was reduced to nothing more than a washed-up drunk. Oh, how the mighty have fallen….

"I don't know, Luke," he said. "But you chewing my ass out all the time doesn't help."

"Nathan, it's been over four months. You have to move on, or at least try," Lucas counseled. "I know that it's been hard—"

At those words, at his brother's condescending "advice," Nathan snapped. "No, Luke. You don't know. You don't know what it's like to lose everything! I was in the NBA, for fuck's sake, and now I'm not," Nathan said, his voice laced with self-loathing. "And I know it's my fault, it's all my fault, but that doesn't make it any easier."

"Nate—"

"And you don't think I beat myself up every day? That I don't sit here and think, if only I had done this. Or hadn't done that? Christ, Luke, that's all I do every day. Why do you think I fucking drink so much?"

"Nathan—"

Nathan continued his tirade. "How on earth could you possibly know how I feel? What have you ever lost in your life?"

"Hey, wait a second, Nathan," Lucas interrupted. "You don't have to lash out at me—"

"But you can come in here and criticize me? Fuck that, Luke," Nathan snapped, his patience fraying.

He could see Lucas was trying to remain calm, and that only served to piss off Nathan even more. Fuck Luke and his high horse. Nathan didn't need any of his condescending "you have to help yourself" bullshit.

"Nate, you know the doctor said that if—"

"I know what the doctor said, Luke. I know what they all said."

"Then why are you being such a stubborn jackass about this? You say it's over but honestly, Nathan, I think you're just using that as an excuse so you don't have to try again and possibly fail," Lucas said. "Because heaven forbid the great Nathan Scott actually have to work at something."

"Fuck off, Luke. I didn't ask you to come over so why are you here?" Nathan bit out, angry as the truth of Lucas's words began to register. It was a truth he wasn't yet ready to accept.

Lucas shrugged. "Hell if I know. Your charming personality, I guess," he said sarcastically. "I don't even know why I try with you anymore, at this point."

"Then don't. Just… don't. I didn't ask you to do this."

"Nate, I'm just trying to—"

"So help me, Lucas, if you say you're only trying to help me, I will beat your scrawny ass," Nathan warned, his breaking point quickly approaching. "I don't need your help. Hell, who said I even wanted it?"

At that, Lucas snapped. He stood up and faced his brother. "Fine, you want to sit here and pout like a child, I clearly can't stop you. You could be so much more than this but you refuse. So just sit and wallow. After all, it's what you do best, right?"

At that, Lucas turned and walked to the door. Before shutting the door, he got in one last shot at Nathan. "You're pathetic, Nate."

Nathan tried to ignore the pang of hurt that shot through his heart at his brother's words. For all the shit Nathan gave Lucas for checking on him (and he wasn't lying when he said it was annoying because Christ, Luke could be so damn irritating), he also knew that Luke was his last connection to the world and, more importantly, to the person he had been before. Before the NBA, before the fame and money and women. Lucas had been there for everything—from dealing with Dan's shit for as long as he could remember to high school and college to his first couple of years in the NBA as he struggled for playing time to the fame and glory and back again. He had been Nathan's rock since they were kids; a steadying calm in the midst of storms.

If Luke gave up on him, he really wasn't worth saving.


"I have one of those, too."

The woman's voice broke him from his thoughts. "Huh?" he asked, momentarily confused about what she was talking about.

"Reason to be here," she explained as she raised her glass. "Mine's not a sibling but a best friend. We had a fight earlier today about… well, about this, I guess, and I just had to get away, you know?"

"Uh yeah," Nathan agreed, not really paying attention so as not to encourage more conversation. He didn't come here to talk. To anyone.

Not taking the hint, the woman continued. "So was it a bad one?"

Nathan sighed and couldn't prevent rolling his eyes. Christ, did she not understand he wasn't in the mood for a goddamn conversation? He turned to tell her to mind her own business but the words died in his throat when he got his first full look at her.

He had seen her when she walked into the bar, noticing, with a passing glance, that she was attractive but not thinking anything beyond that. However, as he finally looked at her, he saw that she was more than attractive. She was beautiful. Wavy dark hair framed big brown eyes; eyes that instantly drew him to her. He could imagine losing himself in her gaze and then finding his place in the world all over again. It was a pair of eyes that seemed to hold all the answers to everything he had ever wanted or hoped to be.

Holy shit, what is wrong with me? Nathan thought as he came back to himself. That's some Lucas shit right there.

He shook his head and took a long swallow of alcohol to clear his mind. Nathan Scott didn't do beautiful. He didn't do soulful brown eyes that nearly took his breath away. He didn't do pouty lips that fairly screamed to be kissed.

Nathan did selfish. He did jackass and moody and dysfunctional. He most certainly did not do feelings. And yet, there was something in the woman's gaze, some indefinable quality that seemed to call to him, leaving him wanting to know more about her. It was as if through those brown eyes Nathan could find the peace he had been missing for so long. Which was a ridiculous notion—some romantic type bullshit that his brother was always writing about—because clearly, she was as screwed up as he was. After all, she was sitting in a nearly empty bar in the middle of the afternoon, drowning sorrows not yet spoken. What peace could he hope to find in a lonely, miserable alcoholic like himself?

And yet….

No, he told himself as he took another drink. It's the alcohol talking, it's gotta be. He sat the glass down and started at the amber colored liquid. What have you done to me?

"So, I guess you're not talking. I get that. I mean, look where we are. It's not like either one of us came here to talk. Or maybe you did, but you just don't want to talk to me, which I can underst—"

"No, no, it's not that," Nathan interrupted her rambling. What? Yes, it is. It is exactly like that, his inner voice screamed but Nathan ignored it.

"Oh," the woman said, a small smile crossing her lips. A tiny smile that almost blew Nathan away.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Getting moony over a goddamn smile? Alcohol poisoning, it had to be alcohol poisoning. Right?

"I'm Haley," the woman offered, her hand extended.

Nathan shook her hand, feeling an unexpected rush as he touched her soft skin. Swooning over her smile? Shivering just from touching her hand? It was official: he was losing his fucking mind.

"Nathan," he said as he let go of her hand. "You, uh, come here often?"

Oh Christ, now he was resorting to cheesy pick up lines. For someone who was probably as screwed up as he was. The whole "drinking in the middle of the afternoon" was his first clue.

Haley's cheeks turned light pink as she nodded slowly. "Yeah. I, uhm, my friend Brooke and I are friends with Chase." At Nathan's quizzical expression she explained. "You know, the bartender here earlier?"

"Oh yeah."

"Well, I've known Chase since I moved to Tree Hill. When we moved here, Brooke and I were looking for a place where we could hang out and found Tric. There aren't too many places in Tree Hill like this, so Brooke and I found ourselves here more often than not. And we just started talking to Chase one day and clicked," Haley said before taking a sip of her drink. "You come here a lot?"

Nathan nodded, suddenly ashamed at how frequently he had been here in the past few months. What if she thought he was some pathetic drunk? He mentally kicked himself at the thought. First, because he was a pathetic drunk and secondly, it's not like she would be in a place to judge.

"Uh yeah," he said. "My brother and I grew up in Tree Hill so we've been coming to Tric since it opened while we were in high school. My mom, uhm, well, my mom and Luke's mom used to own the bar and the café downstairs."

"That's cool. I bet the free alcohol came in handy during high school," Haley laughed and Nathan swore his heart skipped a beat at the sound.

"Nah," he grinned. "Karen would have killed us. Well, mainly Luke since he's her son, but she would have strangled me as well."

"Your mom wouldn't have cared?"

Nathan stared at his glass, debating whether to answer. That question hit a little too close to home. Deb had never been what one would call an attentive parent, but she had tried. Her personal demons were simply stronger than her desire to be a stable, loving influence in his life. But that certainly wasn't anything he was going to share with a stranger, no matter how attractive he found her or how unlike himself she made him feel.

However, the next thing he knew, the words were spilling out of him. "No, not by a long shot. My mom wasn't what you could call the best parent around. She… she drank a lot but her main thing was pills. And even before that, she was out of town for work nearly all the time. It was always something else with her that was more important than me. So no, my mom wouldn't have cared because she more than likely wasn't here or too drugged out to notice."

He cursed himself as he thought about what he had done: he was vulnerable with someone, a relative stranger. He tried so hard these last four months, hell, the last several years, to ignore these feelings, to lock them away. And yet, here he was, confessing long held secrets to a woman he just met. Of the people in his life, only Luke really knew what a number Deb had pulled on Nathan, and even with his brother, there were some things Nathan just couldn't tell him.

"I'm sorry, Nathan," Haley said softly, her voice brimming with a warmth Nathan hadn't heard from anyone in so long. The words were simple, but he somehow knew they were genuine and heartfelt, and he could feel them chipping away at his defenses.

Oh god, he was in trouble. He just knew it.


Hope you enjoyed the chapter. More Naley to come in the next chapter. Any feedback is greatly appreciated!