Thanks for all the great reviews, I always enjoy reading the reviews. (So if you're reading this take a quick hit at that button).

Here's the next chapter of Shattered.

Disclaimer: I don't own one tree hill. If I did, I'd actually have to research the medical stuff to make sure it's right.

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The next Monday (five days later)

Nathan leaned back against the wall. His arm hurt, but he didn't really care. He didn't feel like telling Dan it hurt anyway. If Dan was anything like Keith (and they were brothers—as far as Nathan knew) Dan would just laugh and not do anything about it.

He really wished he could put something on his arm, though, or take some painkillers. The burn had come back in the middle of the night and it was throbbing. As a result, Nathan spent most of the night awake. "Lucas?" he asked, blinking as he saw the teenager open the fridge.

"That's my name, don't wear it out," Lucas replied with a smile as he looked at his half-brother. "How's your arm?"

Nathan toyed with the idea of telling Lucas it didn't hurt, then decided this was probably his only chance to get medical attention for it all day. "Hurts like hell," he replied, then winced as he remembered Dan's lecture on cussing.

"I'll get some antibiotics," Lucas promised as he set the milk on the kitchen table. "You eat?" he asked.

"Am I allowed?" Nathan asked, then kicked himself for asking a stupid question. Although Keith had his own set of rules, he had ordered Nathan to learn others' rules—without asking stupid questions like this.

"Of course," Lucas replied as he sat out a second bowl. He didn't even bat an eye, and Nathan breathed a sigh of relief. "I'll go get that first aid kit."

Copying Lucas' example, Nathan reached in the cupboard and pulled out a box of cheerios. They weren't his favorite, but they were all he could find, and he was never one to pass up food. "Thanks," he said, pouring his milk as Lucas trampled back down the stairs.

"You're welcome," Lucas replied as he set the first-aid kit down on the table. "I gotta take your arm out of the sling—"

"I've had worse before," Nathan responded, shocked at his own boldness. Well, Lucas wouldn't have to know they were from Keith. "I can get it."

"Nathan, half your arm is burned. I've got it," Lucas replied with a braver attitude then he felt. "It'll take me about a minute to get this off—"

"I got it," Nathan snapped, taking off the sling and laying it on the table. He only wore it after the doctor insisted; Keith would never go for such an outward sign of weakness. As Lucas slowly rubbed the cream on his burn, he wondered if things had gone from bad to worse or from bad to better.

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Although almost nobody would know it, Nathan liked school. He enjoyed talking to the different types of people and enjoyed goofing off as well. He really enjoyed learning, but Keith thought bookwork was stupid, and as a result, Nathan was usually banned from doing his homework.

The fight that actually got Nathan pulled out was fairly normal: Keith yelling at Nathan that homework was stupid, and Nathan yelling back…

Flashback

"Why the hell won't you let me do my homework? Normal parents let them do their homework, even if they fail! If they fail it still counts—it's better to do your homework and fail than to not do it at all!"

"You remember that conference in fourth grade about you failing your homework?" Keith spat back, edging dangerously close to Nathan. Nathan could smell the liquor on his breath and stepped back, bumping into the stove. He decided to start edging sideways.

"Keith, they just wanted me to work harder. I don't understand why you wouldn't let me do my damn homework— OW!" Nathan yelped in protest as Keith grabbed his arm. "What are you doing? Get off of me!"

"What are you going to do, scream for Mommy?" Keith taunted, twisting Nathan's arm back. Nathan tried to shove Keith out of his way, but Keith wouldn't move, only grabbed Nathan's arm, as if he was holding it hostage. "You like fire, Nathan?"

"No," Nathan whispered. It was no secret that Nathan was terrified of fire. Nathan suspected it was the hundred-something burns on his shoulder that had to do with that. Keith often used Nathan's arm as an ashtray. Nathan never protested, knowing that the second he did, Keith would turn around and beat on his mother.

"Good." Keith turned on the stove and Nathan squirmed, struggling to get away.

"I'm sorry, I won't do my homework," Nathan responded, pulling against the refrigerator, still trying to pull away from Keith's grasp. "I won't turn it in, alright? I'm sorry!"

"Too bad," Keith sneered as he pressed Nathan's arm against the hotness of the stove.

Nathan screamed.

"You okay, dude? You look like you zoned out for a second," Lucas responded, handing Nathan his textbook. They'd been placed in the same classes so Lucas could help Nathan lug his books around.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine," Nathan replied, shaking his head, attempting to clear it. "My brain hurts, that's all. What class is next?"

"Math," Lucas grinned back. "My least favorite."

"Then why are you grinning?"

"My girlfriend, Brooke, is in the class," Lucas said with a grin. "Do you date? There seems to be an epidemic of non-dating going around. But I think Peyton's available. Her last boyfriend dumped her, and she's look—"

"I'm not really looking right now, Lucas," Nathan responded. Dating was always a big no-no; besides, he didn't really care. Most of the girls preferred to go out with the football players on his old team, anyway. "I just got here like yesterday, and I'm already enrolled in school."

"Actually, that's not quite true. You've been here for five days—"

"Shut up," Nathan responded, tossing Lucas a dirty look as he stepped into the classroom. He didn't apologize. He didn't even pay any attention to Peyton, who stepped in after him. Half the boys in the class willingly did that for him.

"Hey, Lucas. How are things going?" Peyton asked with a smile as she placed her book on the desk.

"Good," Lucas replied with a grin.

"Is this the half-brother I've been hearing so much about?" Peyton responded, raising one eyebrow.

Nathan blanched as he processed Peyton's information. "What the hell do you mean, half-brothe—"