Title: Who You Were

Author: sera_rocks / Sera

Rating: M

Summary: After his father's death, James Lucas Scott is forced to go back to Tree Hill and the house he abandoned years ago to search for the will. What he finds goes beyond mere bequeathed possessions as he uncovers the secret past of the father he never knew, and the unforgettable love of two people who were destined to be together.

A/N: Whoot! I am so proud of myself. I told you guys I'd be back in two weeks and I am here early! Thank you, sudden school holidays! Lol. First things first, a big, huge thank you again to Lillie for going through this chapter and keeping my grammar and sanity in check. Couldn't have done this without you! Hugs.

Now, I know y'all are impatient for answers right now, but I can't give them all to you just yet. That wouldn't be much fun now, would it? *grins* But, good news though! There are some answers in here, big ones in fact. But they probably come with more questions (sorry about that). Anyway, there are revelations in here, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask. Also, please read of the other author's note at the end of this chapter. It is going to clarify some things I was afraid people are going to ask.

Disclaimer: Lillie said I should have a disclaimer, so here goes. This disclaimer applies for all the chapters in this story. I don't own anything related to One Tree Hill but this story. I wish I owned James Lafferty though. :)

Chapter 5:

When James was a little boy of around four or five, he remembered waking up in the middle of the night to hearing his parents arguing downstairs. Their house was quite spacious and so even if one talked in the most normal way possible, it reverberated all throughout the house like an echo.

And that was just what it was to James; a never-ending echo, because it was all he heard that night. He had never heard his parents argue that way. Maybe they had some of those petty arguments but they never lasted longer than a few minutes, and usually ended with some sort of compromise. It seemed like neither of his parents wanted to compromise this time. They were not shouting, or throwing all sorts of objects but the tension was so palpable that James could even feel it when he was upstairs in his room; like he too could feel the long weeks of trying to hold your emotions in and they were just ready to overflow any second now.

That night, James crept under his blanket and gripping his knees tightly against his chest, he prayed over and over that he would go deaf, even for just that one night. He prayed his parents would stop arguing. He prayed everything would be okay. James had never prayed this hard all his life and right at that moment, with his chin tucked behind his folded knees, he promised he would be a better son – that he was going to find a way to make his family happy again.

But it was no use; he could still hear them, feel their anger and their pain.

"Do you honestly think that you being away for weeks is helping this family?"

"Seeing as it puts food on the table, then yes, I suppose it does."

"Tell me Nathan; have you seen your son lately? Have you talked to him, held him close, and carried him on your lap? Listened to him talk about his day? Have you done any of those things even once ever since you arrived? Or have your forgotten that you have a son?"

"I did not forget him, Haley –"

"Oh, so you just ignored him then. Really, Nathan! You could forget about me all you want but don't you dare forget Jamie. He looks up to you! All he's done for weeks is look forward to playing some basketball with his father and you have done nothing remotely close to that! Forget you are a husband to me, but don't dare forget you are a father to my son."

James did not have much memories of his younger years, but it was that night that he remembered as vividly as an event that occurred earlier that day. He could not sleep for the next few days, as it was all he heard, even if they did not argue anymore.

He recalled going downstairs early the next morning, expecting nothing special and was surprised when his father was seated on the foot of the stairs, apparently waiting for him. As soon as James got down, his father swept him up in his arms and suggested that they go play basketball in the basketball court a few blocks away from their house.

That day, James got to spend the entire day with his father. They not only played basketball all day, but also went for ice cream and he was even able to convince his dad to get him two scoops and not tell his mom. They even went to watch a movie in the cinema and buy new toys. James had never gotten so many toys in one day, even on his birthday. He thought things couldn't get any better.

He was right, because right after that day, his dad was gone. Again.

It wasn't that Nathan was a bad father. He just – wasn't around. James had lost count of how many basketball games he had that his father missed, how many school events he didn't attend, how many camping trips he had been promised but never given. He wasn't going to lie; it hurt him terribly to have his father absent all the time. It was difficult growing up not having a father figure to look up on. At one point, James even hated his dad so much for missing one of those Family Day picnics in school that he flatly refused to talk to him on the phone.

But James understood why his father was gone all the time. Nathan Scott had two jobs; one was managing that car dealership business his grandfather started long ago, and the other was being a basketball player. James was extremely proud of his father and he swelled with pride when his friends congratulated him for his dad's recent win in a game. He loved cheering his dad on and getting to go to the locker room when he and his mom would watch games live. He loved it even more when he would hear his classmates talk animatedly of the game, wowed by Nathan Scott's basketball skills. But it came to a point that Nathan was hardly home even during off-season, and even if he were, he was so preoccupied with other things that it was like he wasn't home in the first place.

As James grew older, he began to care less and less. Even when his father didn't have basketball and he was home every day now, it was James now who was out the door in a flash every single morning. He was growing older, had school, basketball on the side and a lot of friends. He was even dating now. The way he saw it, the more reasons he had to stay away, the better.

Of course, Nathan had begun to try to make up for the lost time, often inviting James to go out with him, watch a movie, play basketball, but somehow, he always came up with a plausible excuse to say no. When James was old enough to leave home, he immediately did but maintained contact with his mom.

Looking back now, there was no mistaking the regret James had for not giving his father a chance. He grimaced guiltily when he remembered the awful pain in his father's face every time James declined an offer to spend time with him. Back then, it had been so easy to turn away, so easy to bury the guilt but now, it rose up within him so strongly that James was shaking as he tried to stop himself from crying.

With trembling hands, he put down the stack of letters he was holding. There was so much he didn't get to say, so much he didn't know and little by little, he was discovering the truth. And whoever said it was right; the truth did hurt. It hurt like hell.

Dear Nathan,

I'm stationed somewhere in Northern Ireland now. I pictured how the war would be a few days before I was recruited, but it was nothing compared to how it is now that I am here. Even if it is complete silence at night, all I hear are those endless gunshots and the pitiful cries of the innocent. It never goes away, those sounds. Ireland would be a good place to go to for vacation someday. Yes, I believe that this war will be over soon. I guess some part of me does, anyway, mostly because I miss home. I never did envision life after college to be something like this. Perhaps, settle down with Brooke, have kids and continue dad's business or something. I know, you are probably wincing as you read this. You were never the family type, Nathan. But who am I to say who or what you are? You've surprised me over the years. You still continue to.

I hope to see you soon. I hope to see everyone soon.

Sincerely,

Lucas

Dear Nathan,

I'm writing this in my ratty old tent which is pitched over some really jagged rocks in the middle of the night, so I'm sorry if you can't decipher some of the words. I lost your last letter while we were crossing a river. I think it fell out of my pocket or something. I lost a lot of things in that river, but none as important as that letter. You'd probably say that it's just a piece of paper, and it probably is. It's a beacon of hope to many of us here. The only thing we look forward to now is letters from family and friends, and it is lucky that they even arrive.

We crossed some border a few hours ago; I have no idea where we are now. Remember that guy I told you about – Marvin? The guy everyone calls Mouth? He died a few days ago … shot in the head. I saw it with my own eyes, Nathan. I see things like that every day but nothing pained me more than to watch my friend die. It's the most horrible thing to experience. I hope that never happens to you.

This war seems much longer than I'd hoped. I'd love to see Brooke soon, and everyone back home.

Lucas

Dear Nathan,

I don't know if you'll receive this. Most of the other guys here don't receive letters anymore. It's either the letters don't get sent, or they don't arrive. I can't write too much; the general says the letters could be intercepted. I'm taking this war one day at a time, and each day I think that it's one day closer to coming home. Take care, Nate.

Luke

Beneath those few letters was a long envelope, yellowed with age. On the outside, James saw the words Nathan Scott – Urgent neatly typewritten across the envelope. The opening was jagged and torn, as if it was hastily and rather roughly opened. It was a letter, also typewritten. It was dated July 1941. James meant to read the letter from the very beginning but as soon as his gaze fell on one line somewhere in the middle, all the other words started to blur and he didn't even bother reading the whole thing. He already knew what it meant.

"…you are being recruited into the US Army…"

Noumea, New Caledonia, 1942

The sky was beginning to darken as US troops headed into their tents to get ready for that night's big event. Word had been spreading that there was some sort of visitor who was coming to their base later tonight, and apparently, it must have been someone big and famous because the entire camp was practically buzzing with excitement at the news. No one knew who it was, but just the thought of someone famous coming to them, the thought that somebody still cared … it was more than enough. One could not blame them. They had not been excited for anything in almost a year.

Nathan was one of the very few he did not care. He had lost his ability to give a damn about anything months ago. He had seen too much – done too much to still think that he was worth being cared about, being remembered by someone. As far as Nathan was concerned, he did not deserve anyone's pity or help. When he had heard about the then-impending war, he was fresh out of college, full of ideas and opinions about the government and the world that when he looked back at now, did not matter and were not at all realistic. He had thought it was nothing, thought it wouldn't last long, thought it wouldn't even happen.

If he were given the choice, he would have declined being recruited. Nathan didn't want anything to do with the war. And now, here he was, condoning it. Sure, he was fighting for his country, but really? Did it matter whose side he was on? He was still holding a gun, still murdering innocent people and ruining lives. There was no "good side" or "bad side", no right or wrong. God, he remembered the first time he had held a gun. He could carry it alright, but he was still shaking. He could kill someone with that thing. And kill someone he did.

Nathan still had nightmares about it. He could still see the face of the man he had killed just because his superior told him to, hear the scream before Nathan squeezed the trigger, and the blast that emitted from his gun, sending him reeling backwards at the sudden force. That man – no matter his nationality, no matter whose side he was on – had a family somewhere, a family that cared for him and prayed for his safe return and because of Nathan, that family would never see him again.

To most of the people here, the number of people you killed was considered bragging rights. The higher the number, the better. He could hear them late at night, talking about it so easily as if they were comparing numbers they bet in the lottery. Nathan was disgusted.

Sometimes, to block their voices, Nathan would take out the letters Lucas sent him and read them, and his mind would eventually drift off to memories of days when everything seemed easier, days he took for granted and wished he enjoyed more. Lucas was on the other side of the world, experiencing was Nathan was experiencing, and every day came with the constant fear that Lucas' letter would never arrive.

"They're gathering at that stage set up down the hill," a voice announced behind him. Nathan turned around and saw one of those soldiers who stayed in a tent a few feet away from Nathan's. Much like him, this person was usually alone. "You coming?"

"Do we have to?" Nathan asked in rather pained voice.

The soldier grinned a bit, his smile not reaching his eyes. "Yeah. Common courtesy for our guest or something like that," he shrugged. "Better than to do nothing, I guess."

Nathan nodded and said nothing.

The soldier's gaze fell on Lucas' stack of letters that Nathan was still holding in his hand and asked, "You got a girl back home?"

He looked up and made a face with disgust as he folded the letters and dug them deep into his pocket. "Letters from my brother,"

"He's in the war, too?"

"Yeah, he's stationed somewhere in Europe."

The pair began to walk down the hill and were joined by other soldiers, who were deep in conversation and practically grinning from ear to ear in anticipation.

"Must be tough having a relative in this war," commented the soldier. "I got a couple of friends stationed in different places. Haven't heard from them in a while,"

Nathan noticed the forced casualty in the soldier's voice but said nothing about it. He decided to change the topic. "You got a girl back home?"

The soldier shook his head. "Nah, she broke up with me as soon as she found out I got recruited. Didn't want to deal with the heartbreak if I didn't come home or something," he had the forced casualty in his voice again. "Guess she has a point. Going home is looking pretty bleak right now."

Nathan nodded. "Where are you from?"

"New York. You?"

"Tree Hill," when he noticed the puzzled look on the soldier's face, he quickly added, "It's in North Carolina."

"Small town," he mused. "Pretty girls must be tough to find there."

"There's a lot of pretty, not enough decent," replied Nathan, remembering Haley. His heart ached, twisting painfully. He wondered where she was now and more importantly, how she was. He never heard from her again after that graduation party. It was a long story Nathan no longer wanted to remember but the thought of her still remained. She was still in his thoughts as often as she was before. When he saw the skeptical look on the soldier's face, he dug into his other pocket, took out the picture of him and his friends in high school and showed it to him.

His brown eyes widened. "You still in contact with her?"

Nathan glanced at who he was pointing at. "Who, Peyton? Not as often as before."

"She's beautiful," he said quietly, still staring intently at the photograph. "Tell her my name's Jake Jagielski and I want to marry her as soon as I get home."

For the first time in almost a year, Nathan grinned widely, and the feeling of it was so unfamiliar that his cheeks ached, but it was a pleasant kind of ache somehow. "I'll be sure to tell her that."

Reluctantly, the soldier named Jake returned the photograph. "What was your name again?"

"I didn't say it. My name's Nathan Scott," he answered, extending his hand to Jake. "I never thought I'd find a friend in this hell."

"Neither did I," admitted Jake, looking around. "The people here – it's like they want to be here, fighting this war. I can't wait to get home."

Nathan grinned again, this time bigger. "So you can marry Peyton?"

"Her name's just as beautiful as she is."

"She's a good person. We went to high school together."

"Wish I went to that school," said Jake rather gloomily. "I couldn't wait to graduate from my school. Not the best four years of my life, that's for sure."

"Things were a lot easier back then, though." Nathan remarked.

"Yeah, there's that, too."

They finally reached the bottom of the hill. The wide, open space in front of the crudely-made stage was dotted with a couple of people so Jake and Nathan were able to stand near the stage. Behind them, the crowd slowly followed and the space was beginning to fill up. Suddenly, this "visit" from whoever didn't seem like a bad idea. It was a nice change from the monotony of it all.

Nathan turned to Jake, who was watching the crowd. "So do you have an idea of who's coming here tonight?"

Jake frowned. "You don't know?"

"I don't really pay attention. Up until awhile ago, I had no intention of even coming here."

He shrugged. "They say she's some famous singer back home. Her name's Haley James."

A/N: I admit that this story is very different. It diverts away from the typical NH storylines, and especially from the NJ storylines. I'm really concerned about how the readers (yes, that's you) are going to react with the kind of relationship Nathan and Jamie have. I want to make this story as realistic as possible. I want to emphasize that not all relationships are perfect, and not all have the happy past many want. This was the main reason why I made Nathan an absentee father at first, and the next, as Jamie grew up, he was the one who began leaving. They are both human and like everyone, they make mistakes they can't necessarily take back. But this is the journey that I want the characters to take; finding their way back after their mistakes. It's probably hard to see how this story is going to end with everything okay and at peace, but this story will have a happy ending, I can assure you that. So please, have faith in me and in what I have planned. Thank you, and I'd love to hear what you think! :)