Disclaimer: Not mine. Will never be mine.

Author's Notes: Oh good gosh almighty. I'm pretty sure I have no readers left for the story, but after an extremely long (oops?) break between chapters, I'm back with chapter nine. The light at the end of the tunnel in last chapter for Haley? Well, she's making some progress, as is Nathan. More introspection (because apparently I'm a sucker for that), some Brooke/Haley friendship, Nathan/Lucas bonding, and at the end, a sneak peek at what will FINALLY start happening on a regular basis - Naley interaction! (I know, right? A Naley story with what, one freaking chapter of actual Naley interaction?)

Thanks to everyone for the reviews, favorites and follows! Even though it's taken f-o-r-e-v-e-r to get this chapter out, your feedback has been a tremendous help and motivation to stop letting writer's block beat me. So, to anyone who might still be interested in this story, thank you thank you thank you!


Two weeks. It had been two weeks since she almost hit a little boy in her apartment complex's parking lot.

Two weeks since she collapsed in a heap, the hot asphalt burning her skin, as she sobbed and sobbed and sobbed at the utter wreckage of her life.

Two weeks since she decided enough is enough.

"Hi," she said softly, unable to meet Brooke's direct gaze.

"Hi," Brooked echoed. "Wh-is everything okay?"

After her breakdown in the parking lot, Haley managed to drag herself back to her apartment, where she called Brooke. Between gasping sobs, she asked her best friend to come over. In the fifteen minutes it took for Brooke to arrive, Haley began to calm, her breath hitching slightly as she recovered from her emotional outburst.

The frightened expression on the little boy's face flashed before her as the mom's terrified scream echoed in her mind. She could have hurt or killed someone, taken a beloved son away from his mother, destroyed a family. Just like her family had been destroyed months ago.

The realization that she could have ruined a family, just like hers had been, because of her own stupidity and selfishness stole her breath. She wasn't that type of person; she wasn't one who endangered others without a thought or who treated people so poorly. She wasn't…

Haley scoffed to herself at the thought. Who was she kidding? She was exactly that type of person. She was so far from who she had been, she no longer recognized the person staring back at her in the mirror each morning. She may have once been a happy, dedicated, loving person who put others before her own needs but no longer. Not since her mother died…

She may not have recognized herself anymore but almost hitting the little boy with her car made her realize something with crystal clear simplicity: she had to change. Because if she didn't, any vestige of the old Haley James that might still reside within her, would disappear forever.

So she called the one person she knew would never say no to her. At least, she hoped that remained true, because after the way she treated Brooke during the last six months, Haley wasn't sure.

Brooke—sweet, gracious Brooke—rushed over and the two friends now sat on Haley's couch, Brooke's question hanging in the air as Haley questioned whether if anything would be okay again.

"Haley?" Brooke asked after a long period of silence. "Are you alright?"

At that, Haley burst into tears once again, Brooke's arms immediately encircling her into a comforting hug. Haley felt immense gratitude at her best friend's instant compassion, even though she knew didn't deserve it; not after everything Haley put Brooke through over the last several months. After the way she treated her best friend, Haley knew she deserved nothing more than scorn and rejection, but she also knew Brooke would never desert her. Brooke was her lifeline; Haley didn't know what she would do if she ever lost that.

"Shh," Brooke said as she ran her hand over Haley's hair. "Deep breaths, honey. Haley, you need to calm down."

Haley's sobs increased at the kindness in her friend's voice. There was no judgment, no harsh derision. Just love and sympathy and an eagerness to help.

It made everything worse and better, all at the same time.

After several minutes of crying, Haley's tears finally eased to gentle sniffles and soft hiccups. She broke the embrace, moving to slide back against the arm of the sofa, pulling her knees close and wrapping her arms around them. She rested her chin on her knees and looked at Brooke, who was staring back at her with a bewildered expression.

"Haley, what's going on? Have you been… I mean, are you-"

"Drunk?" Haley interrupted. Shaking her head, she murmured a soft, "No. But I was earlier and I… I…I almost hit someone. A little boy."

Brooke gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth. After a moment, she dropped her hands. "Is he okay? What happened? Are you okay?" Her questions were quick, sharp.

"He's fine, or at least not hurt. He's probably terrified. His mom… god, Brooke. You should have seen the look on her face. For a moment I thought I had hit him and it was like…." Haley trailed off, unable to give voice to the thought that had been haunting her since she nearly hit the little boy.

"What? What was it like?" Brooke prodded gently.

Haley shook her head, not wanting to answer.

"Haley?" Brooke asked again, reaching a hand out to give her calf a squeeze. "What was it like?"

Haley closed her eyes, unwilling, or unable, to look at Brooke as she made her confession. She took a deep breath. "It was like I was him. That I was just like the man who hit my mom. Worse even. I could have hurt or killed someone's child, Brooke. All because I was too busy feeling sorry for myself and getting drunk in the morning. I'm meant to take care of children, educate them, help them grow. Not do something like this."

She raised her head, tears slowly sliding down her face. "I can't do this anymore, Brooke. I can't. I need… can you help me? I just can't do this anymore." Her words were a soft plea, a quiet hope that there was still a piece of the old Haley James within her.

Two weeks after her conversation with Brooke, things were… okay. The urge not to drink was a daily, sometimes hourly, fight. She'd lost the battle a couple of times the first week, but she hadn't gotten blackout drunk. The fact that Haley counted "not getting blackout drunk" as an accomplishment filled her with shame and regret that she had allowed herself to fall so low.

She began eating better, not consuming a liquid diet. She reached out to Brooke when the struggle was overwhelming her, when the impulse to pick up a bottle was too powerful. She started taking care of herself again, by going for long walks in the fresh air, indulging in the simple joy of polishing her nails. She cleaned her apartment. She read books. She kept busy as much as she could to suppress the need screaming through her veins for more alcohol.

She would sometimes find herself lost in thoughts of Nathan, of what he was doing, during the times she felt like she would crawl out of her skin if she couldn't get another drink. She wondered if he ever thought about her or that night. Did he dream of her as she did him some nights? The image of his blue eyes and sly smile would flash before her and the cravings for alcohol would simply… fade away, replaced by a low swirling desire in her belly.

(She didn't dare dwell on what that meant. Or on the fact that the only times she felt whole was when she was thinking of Nathan and their night together and how he made her feel that everything would be okay.)

Brooke, in her own Brooke way, kept leaving pamphlets about sobriety and Alcoholic Anonymous meetings whenever she would visit Haley; pamphlets that Haley studiously ignored. She didn't need AA, she could do this on her own. Going to AA would be truly admitting how damaged she really was. After all, she was getting better, Haley told herself. She hadn't had a drink in a week. She was repairing her relationship with Brooke. She was improving herself. She was getting better.

Right?

So why did she feel like something was missing?


It had been two weeks since Nathan had decided to find the girl he met in the bar and Lucas had to give his brother credit. Since their talk that day when Nathan admitted he had met someone, he had started to clean up his act. He had hired a maid service to clean his house, as far as Lucas could tell he had stopped drinking, and he was making an effort to repair his relationship with Lucas. Nathan had even started running again, which explained why Lucas was up at five thirty in the morning, lacing up his sneakers and wondering why on earth he was up so early.

"Why are we up at the crack of dawn? I mean, you couldn't decide to run at say, seven?" Lucas asked when Nathan opened his front door.

"Man up, Luke," Nathan grinned as he stepped out onto the front porch. "Two weeks ago I'd probably still be up drinking so there's that."

"Why was I so insistent that you stop drinking," Lucas grumbled as the brothers began to stretch. "At least then I didn't have to get up so early."

Nathan laughed at his brother's complaining. "Stop your bitching, old man. C'mon, let's go," he said as he finished stretching and began to jog down the sidewalk. "Better hurry up," he called out to his lagging brother.

Lucas rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lips. The last several months had been rough on Lucas as he watched his brother slide into a tailspin. When Nathan lost basketball, it was as if he lost everything that had any meaning in his life. But for the first time in months, Lucas was beginning to see hints of the old Nathan slowly emerge. So if his brother needed to run so early in the morning to get better, then Lucas would be up with him every morning.

The duo ran at a steady pace, the slaps of their shoes on the pavement the only sound in the semi-darkness. After twenty minutes, Nathan began to slow, Lucas soon matching his pace. They slowed to a walk, Nathan breathing deeply. Not having kept up his typical exercise routine since the injury, his endurance was not at its usual level.

"The knee feeling okay, Nate?"

Nathan grunted, ignoring the slight twinge of pain in his knee. "Yeah, it's alright."

Lucas eyed his brother, a grimace clearly evident on Nathan's face. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mom, I'm sure," Nathan snapped and instantly regretted his sharp tone. "I'm sorry, Luke. It's been awhile since I've done anything like this and I guess the knee isn't what it used to be."

"It's okay, man. I'm glad to see you doing things but just be careful, okay? You don't have to get it all back at once," Lucas told him as they began their walk back to Nathan's house.

Shrugging, Nathan was silent for a moment. "I know, it's just… My whole life, I've been an athlete, and now it's all gone. For a while there, I didn't care if I ever played basketball again. But now, for the first time in months, I want it again. And even though I know it'll take a while, I want it back now. And not having it takes some getting used to."

Nodding, Lucas couldn't help but marvel at the newfound maturity Nathan was showing. Just two weeks ago he was drowning in self-pity and alcohol, refusing any attempts of help; now he was reaching out to Lucas, sobering up, and trying to get his life back together.

And the impetus for change had to be laid at the feet of the mysterious woman Nathan met one night. Lucas wanted to meet her if only to thank her for motivating his brother to stop feeling sorry for himself.

"A couple of weeks ago you mentioned meeting a girl at Tric and the next thing I know, you're not drinking anymore, you're running again, your house doesn't smell like ass any more. I think it's great, but—"

"But what?" Nathan interrupted. "I know it sounds strange, and maybe I'm crazy, but there was something between us that night. I've never felt anything like it."

Lucas looked at his brother. "Just be careful, Nate. You're doing good, and I'm proud of you, but I don't want you to build this encounter up to something more than it is…" He stopped and grabbed Nathan's sleeve to get his attention. "I mean, what do you know about this girl? Have you seen her since that night?"

Nathan shook his head. "No, I haven't. I wanted to, I don't know, be better than I was before I tried looking for her. And Luke, I don't know what else to say. There was just something between me and Haley and I need to find her to see if maybe that was all in my head."

At the name Haley, Lucas's mind clicked into overdrive. When Nathan mentioned the girl's name during their first conversation, Lucas had been so shocked at Nathan's change in attitude that he didn't focus on the details. Although they had been running together for the last week, Nathan remained silent during most of their time together and Lucas didn't want to push him. Now, hearing the name of the girl who had captured his brother's attention, he wondered if Nathan's Haley and Brooke's screwed up best friend were one in the same.

"Nate," Lucas began, unsure of how to tell his brother that this girl was nothing but trouble. Or even if he should tell him. He only knew of Haley—assuming it was the same Haley—through Brooke, but the stories she had shared weren't all positive. He knew Haley was struggling just as much as Nathan, if not more, and Lucas worried that she would cause his brother to fall into another tailspin. He wasn't strong enough yet to help someone with her own issues; the last thing Nathan needed was to be with someone who had demons to conquer as well.

Lucas needed to talk to Brooke. He didn't believe Haley had mentioned anything to Brooke about meeting someone because Brooke would have told him. She would see it as a ray of hope for Haley, but Lucas worried that Nathan and Haley were too broken, too driven by their own demons, to be good for the other. He didn't want to see the fragile progress Nathan had made come crashing down around him. He feared his brother wouldn't survive another heartbreak.

"Yeah, Luke?"

"Uh, nothing, man. So you haven't looked for this Haley yet?"

"No, not yet, but I'm going to. I met her at Tric and she knows the bartender so I figured I'd ask him," Nathan said as they walked up to his front door. Seeing the look on Lucas's face, he asked, "What?"

Lucas shook his head. He couldn't say anything to Nathan just yet. He didn't even know for sure if the Haley he was talking about was Brooke's best friend. He needed to be sure before he said anything. "Nothing, just remembered that I promised Brooke I'd meet her for her coffee this morning and I don't want to be late."

Nathan looked amused. "At six in the morning? I didn't think Brooke woke up that early."

"She likes to get an early start. Early bird gets the worm and all that."

Frowning slightly at his brother's clear lie—nothing Luke had told him about his girlfriend gave Nathan the impression that Brooke was an early riser—Nathan decided not to call him on it. "Alright, man. Thanks for meeting me again. Kinda reminds me of our morning runs in high school."

Nodding, Lucas was still distracted by the thoughts racing through his mind. "No problem, Nate. Listen, I better go. Gotta go pick Brooke up."

"Sure," Nathan said. "I'll talk to you later."

Lucas turned to walk to his car. At the last moment he turned back to face Nathan. "Hey Nate, just be careful," he said, repeating his earlier warning. "This girl may not-just watch out for yourself, okay?"

Nodding warily, unsure about his brother's cryptic words, Nathan replied, "Yeah, okay. What's going on, Luke?"

"Nothing," Lucas shook his head. "You've made a lot of progress and I don't want anything to mess that up." With that, Lucas walked to his car, leaving Nathan to stare after him, wondering what his brother meant.


Lucas drove to Brooke's house, his mind whirling at the possibility that his brother's savior was his girlfriend's train wreck of a best friend. Brooke hadn't given him a lot of details on Haley's issues, just that she was struggling with loss, but what she had told him worried Lucas. According to Brooke, Haley had once been a happy, caring, loving person who loved her family, friends, and job fiercely. But now she was a bitter, angry, and drunken shell who was content to destroy whatever good in her life remained. Her depression sounded eerily similar to Nathan's, and that terrified Lucas. Nathan was too fragile, too new in his supposed recovery, to get involved with someone with personal demons as powerful as his own.

He had to talk to Brooke. As he drove, he rationalized to himself that maybe Nathan's Haley wasn't Brooke's Haley. Haley was a common name, right? And Tric was one of the only bars in town so naturally, it would be a popular establishment. But as he recalled more stories from Brooke—receiving calls from Tric to get a passed out Haley, how she and Chase, Tric's bartender, worried about how to help their friend—it all began to make a strange kind of sense. Of course Nathan would find the one person as messed up as himself.

What was his brother getting into?


After Lucas left, Nathan took a shower, groaning as the hot water soothed his aching muscles. His body felt like he had run a marathon, rather than a 20-minute jog. He hadn't exercised at all since his physical therapy ended a few months ago. Both his doctor and physical therapist had told him how important it was to maintain physical activity in order to continue strengthening his knee, but Nathan ignored their advice. After all, what was the point when he was a washed up, injured ex-basketball player? Keeping his body in peak physical condition had always been a source of pride for Nathan, but once he was injured, it no longer mattered to him.

After his injury, nothing mattered.

The moment he landed after making a slam dunk, Nathan felt agonizing pain radiate from his knee. He even swore he heard an audible pop as he felt the ligaments snap. As a basketball player, he knew exactly what was wrong, and he knew how fucked he was.

He lay on the court, writhing in pain as his teammates gathered around him. The team doctor rushed onto the court, and from the look on his face as he assessed Nathan's knee, Nathan knew it was worse than he imagined. Gritting his teeth to keep from screaming from the pain and frustration, Nathan closed his eyes as he felt his dream of playing in the NBA shatter. Everything he worked for—the 5:00 am daily runs with Dan, the relentless free throws every afternoon, the practices, the endless pursuit to "be the best"—was rendered meaningless in the blink of an eye.

One surgery and several weeks of physical therapy later, Nathan entered his New York apartment, his brother trailing behind with Nathan's suitcase, grimacing as he encountered the large, cold space. His girlfriend Rachel was long gone. (After all, what good was an ex-NBA player as a boyfriend? "Pathetic" was what she had called him as she slammed the hospital door behind her.) His friends – or the people he deemed friends but who were more leeches simply looking for the next party, the next hit – left before the first week was over, when it was apparent that Nathan wasn't going to bankroll their partying anymore. His agent? The asshole was too busy focusing on his "real clients" to bother with Nathan.

His nose wrinkled as he encountered a sour odor upon entering the kitchen. He nearly retched when he approached the sink and saw the month-old dirty dishes in the sink, the smell nearly overpowering. Shaking his head, he turned and walked to the living room, sinking onto the couch and wincing as his knee protested the move. He sat there, unmoving, for long minutes as he listened to Lucas in his bedroom, unpacking Nathan's suitcase. Nathan looked around the apartment, noticing for the first time how cold and impersonal it seemed. Devoid of any personal touches, the space looked like a model apartment – beautiful yet distant, waiting to be transformed into a home. Nathan had lived there for several years and the apartment looked exactly as it did the day he moved in.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the sofa cushion, not wanting to see how empty his life truly was. The dip of the sofa let him know Lucas was now beside him. Not that Nathan cared. He didn't want his brother around. He didn't want anyone around.

The silence and tension between the brothers grew until it was nearly a breathing entity. Lucas had left Tree Hill as soon as he heard about Nathan's accident, arriving just after the surgery was completed. He didn't stay long however; Nathan threw him out with a caustic "Get the fuck out, Luke. I don't want you here" shortly after waking. He had even gone so far as to put Lucas's name on the visitor restriction list. Lucas flew home, angry at his brother's reaction and swearing he wouldn't be back.

Then Nathan's physical therapist called, informing Lucas that Nathan was going to be released but had no one to pick him up. Reluctantly, Lucas returned to New York, intent to retrieve Nathan from rehab and return him to the apartment before leaving again for Tree Hill.

Nathan could practically feel the waves of anger rolling off his brother. The ride back to the apartment had been tense, neither brother uttering more than a word or two. Nathan didn't understand why Lucas had returned to New York, when he clearly didn't want to. It wasn't like Nathan called and asked for his help; his brother just showed up today, like he was Nathan's fucking knight in shining armor or some other bullshit.

"Alright, Luke, you've done your good deed and got the crip home. No need to stay," Nathan muttered, his eyes never opening.

He heard his brother swear under his breath, and Nathan scoffed.

"What the fuck did you think would happen, Luke? That I'd be happy about this? That I'd be glad to be home? Or that having my big brother here would make everything all better?"

"God, you really are an ass, aren't you?" Lucas said, trying to keep a rein on his anger. "I mean, most people would be thankful someone would fly up here, pick you up from the hospital, bring you home, unpack your shit… But not the great Nathan Scott, who doesn't need anyone. Would it kill you to simply say, 'Thanks, Lucas. I know you went to a lot of trouble, and I appreciate it.'?"

"Thanks, Lucas. I know you went to a lot of trouble, and I appreciate it," Nathan repeated dully, his words dripping with sarcasm.

He opened his eyes and turned to Lucas. The anger in his brother's eyes only served to fuel his own indifference. "Why the fuck are you so mad? I didn't ask you to come up here. You just had to play St. Lucas again, here to rescue Screw-up Nathan once more. Here's the thing, Luke. No one asked you this time. I sure as hell don't need you."

"So you're just going to sit here alone?"

"Yep."

"That's your big plan?"

"Yep. Oh, and get completely shit-faced but yeah, that's about it."

"You are pathetic."

"Yep," Nathan agreed.

Lucas rose from the couch. "Fine, if that's how you want it, I'm gone. Don't expect me to come back."

"Promise?"

"Fuck off," Lucas snarled before walking out of the apartment, the slam of the door echoing throughout the beautiful yet hollow space.

After Lucas left New York, Nathan stayed in the apartment, drinking the days and nights away. Every once in a while, when the smells became overpowering, he would hire a service to clean the apartment, hiding in an unused bedroom as they polished and washed and scrubbed the place until it shone. Other than the maids, the only people he saw were the delivery drivers from a nearby grocery store and liquor store.

This pattern continued for a couple of months until Lucas appeared on his doorstep one day, determined to bring Nathan back with him to Tree Hill. A week of insults, near physical fights, and too many shouted arguments to count later, Nathan was back in Tree Hill. The only change to his life that Tree Hill brought was a change in location. Nathan continued to drink himself into oblivion, only this time he wasn't always alone. Random women were in and out of his bed; some were broken shells like him, others thought they could be the one to fix him.

Little did they know that Nathan had lost all hope of ever being whole again. He was broken, shattered into a million pieces with no hope of ever being fixed.

Until one night, when he met a woman who made him believe that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't completely broken. That maybe he could be him again, but a better him.

So for the last two weeks, since he decided to make a leap of faith and look for Haley, Nathan began the slow, painful process of getting it back again. What "it" meant, he wasn't exactly sure. Maybe his sense of self? His hope for a future? All he knew was that some desire in him had been reawaken when he met Haley.

He began exercising again, stopped drinking, and hired a cleaning service to clean the house top to bottom. He was doing everything he could to get his life back together.

Now he needed to find Haley and see… Well, Nathan wasn't sure what would happen, if anything would happen. Like he told Lucas during their jog earlier that morning, he just wanted to find her to see if that connection he experienced that night was real or all in his head.


Frustrated, Nathan sat at the bar at Tric, staring blankly ahead. After waiting over an hour for Chase to finish stocking inventory, he was finally able to speak to the bartender, only to be stonewalled. Chase refused to give Haley's number to Nathan. On one hand, Nathan admired Chase's protection of his friend, but on the other, Nathan now had no other way of finding Haley.

Seeing the various bottles lined up on the shelves before him, he felt the urge to drink wash over him. He could handle one drink, right? Just one beer as a cap to a fruitless search. Just one shot to make him feel better, to relieve the fire burning in his veins. Just one….

Before he gave into temptation, Nathan shoved himself away from the bar, needing distance to quell the urge raging in him. He turned and walked to the door, only to falter when it opened and a woman walked right into him, causing her to stumble backwards at the impact. Instinctively, he grasped the arm of the stranger to keep her from falling. The moment he touched her skin, it was as if an electric current pulsed through him.

Surprised at the unexpected feeling, he immediately let go and lifted his head to apologize to the poor woman he nearly bowled over.

Only to find himself staring into the brown eyes of the woman he had been searching for.


Haley stared at the door to Tric, debating on whether she should enter. As part of her decision to get her life back on track, she needed to make amends with Chase. She inwardly shuddered as she thought of the horrible way she had treated him over the months. Acting like he was nothing more than a way to get drinks. Passing out at Tric. Acting like a bitch whenever he tried to help her or refused her service.

She knew asking for his forgiveness would not be easy, that she didn't deserve to have his friendship, but she had to try. So many things in her life were messed up, things that she couldn't even begin to focus on because the thought of confronting her family or approaching her former employer nearly sent her running to the bottle.

But this, this she could do. Chase deserved her apology. Or groveling, she thought to herself as she continued to stare at the entrance to the bar.

Why she felt she had to talk to him at Tric, she didn't know. Maybe it was masochistic, but part of her believed that if she could be in Tric and not drink, it would be proof that she was in control. That drinking didn't have a complete hold on her.

Another small, secret part of her – a part that she dared not give voice to – hoped that maybe, just maybe, she would find Nathan here again. After all, it was where she met him that night. Haley knew it was a foolish wish, but she still found herself hoping.

Taking a deep breath – it was now or never, she told herself – she opened the door and walked in, only to bump into someone and nearly stumble backwards. The person she ran into grabbed her arm to keep Haley from falling and the instant he touched her, it was if an electronic current pulsed through her. She stifled a gasp at the sensation, and felt an immediate sense of regret when the stranger dropped her arm.

Haley glanced up to apologize to the stranger for running into him but was struck speechless when she saw who he was.

Nathan.


When he saw who the woman was, Nathan was struck by an urge to kiss her. Fighting back the longing to take Haley into his arms and kiss her senseless (the fuck was wrong with him? he thought to himself), he took a deep breath and managed a smile.

For a moment, Haley was nearly overwhelmed by the temptation to throw her arms around Nathan (what in the hell? she thought to herself) and never let go. Attempting to regain control before she embarrassed herself, she forced herself to take a deep breath.

"Hi."

"Hi."