Chapter Eight – The Binding Ties

"Um, so I guess you're probably pretty pissed at me, huh?" Brooke asked Haley with a baleful expression on her face when she walked into their apartment. The girls hadn't seen each other in several days, as Brooke had been hiding out at the now empty Sawyer house while she dealt with her issues.

Haley regarded her cautiously, unsure how to deal with Brooke these days. She's up, she's down, she's left, she's right – what was she supposed to do with that? "What do you want me to say?" she asked, wariness present behind the words. "I just – I expected Peyton to say things like that, but not you. Not like that."

"I'm sorry," Brooke whispered brokenly.

"It's – you know, you know how hard I've been trying to atone for my mistakes, and you still said those things," Haley sighed sadly. "It hurt."

Brooke nodded feverishly, edging closer to where Haley was kicked back on the couch. "I know, and I'm sorry, Hales. I – I don't think those things. Luke was right; you went and chased your dream. Most of us are too afraid to ever do that."

"Oh, Brooke," Haley sighed, dragging her legs up against her chest and patting the spot beside her. Brooke sat down next to her, leaning her head on Haley's legs. "Let's just forget it, I know things have been hard lately. For everyone. But your best friend left, and things with Luke are tough. Believe me, I get it."

"Maybe she wasn't," Brooke mumbled, barely audible.

"Huh?" Haley asked absent-mindedly, running a hand over Brooke's hair.

"Maybe Peyton wasn't really so much my best friend, right?" Brooke clarified, sitting up. "I mean, best friends don't just leave, not like that. Not saying she loves my boy, not just leaving when she knew I didn't really have anyone else, not anyone like her. No family."

Haley regarded her solemnly, still not that excited at the prospect of defending Peyton, but knowing she probably should. "I'm sure it isn't like that," Haley sighed, shrugging at Brooke. "She just – you know how badly she's wanted a parent that would be there for her. This was her opportunity for that, you know?"

Brooke rolled her eyes. "They could've stayed here," she argued. "Ellie offered for them to stay here, so Peyton could finish up school. She just didn't want to be here anymore."

There wasn't much Haley could say that would take the sting out of that, so she didn't even bother with the platitudes on this one. "Well, then she sucks," she offered.

"Yeah, she does," Brooke agreed instantaneously, smiling widely. It dropped off her face into a shyer smile, though. "What you did – it was different. You were running towards something. She's running away. And Luke, he's right – I run away, too. And I don't want to run anymore."

Haley felt like rocks are settling in the pit of her stomach at Brooke's words. "What – um, what are you going to stop running from?"

Brooke shrugged carelessly. "Whatever comes my way. And you can wipe that terrified expression off your face; I know things are over with Luke. Some things just don't last."

"And when did you come to that conclusion?" Haley asked in surprise.

"Maybe I've known it all along," she shrugged, looking at her friend with sad eyes. "Maybe I've known that it was always Peyton for him, and vice versa. How messed up is that?"

Haley smiled kindly at her. "If I were him, I'd have chosen you in a second. You have more loyalty in your pinky finger than she has in her whole body. You're a good friend, Brooke Davis."

"Even when I'm being a jerk?"

"Especially then," Haley laughed. "Because sometimes we all need that, and sometimes we deserve it, too."

"You didn't deserve it," Brooke said seriously. "You do the best with what you have. I'm proud of you, and I think you should know that."

Haley looked down, tears in her own eyes this time. "Thanks, Brookie."

"So, what's going on with you and Nathan?" Brooke sniffed, her eyes teary and red-rimmed. "Any good news yet?"

"He kissed me," Haley admitted with a dreamy sigh as accompaniment. "It's not like anything is settled, but it's nice still. A relief, I guess."

"I'm glad," Brooke smiled softly, trying to wipe away the tracks of her tears. "You deserve happiness, Hales."

Haley smiled back at her, squeezing her hand. "Thanks, Brooke. That means a lot to me. I know you guys all have reasons to doubt me, to doubt my heart, but I promise you, it's here and it is one hundred percent for Nathan."

Brooke rolled her eyes. "I don't think anyone doubts that anymore. Well, maybe Nathan, but that's just residual insecurity on his part. You know why I think it was worse for Nathan than it would've been for most people?"

She debated giving her friend leave to continue, but her curiosity had been piqued enough that she couldn't help herself. "No, why?"

Brooke gave her what could only be described as the 'duh' look. "Because before you, Nathan Scott always got his way. Honestly, he got everything he wanted, and that changed some when you came into his life. He didn't know how to deal with not having everything go his way right away."

Haley raised an eyebrow. "Well, I mean, sure, Nathan is immature sometimes, but he's not so bad. You know that."

"Of course not," Brooke agreed breezily. "I just meant that when you're never challenged, when everything comes as easy as it did for him, the first time you don't get your way, you don't take it too well. I'm just saying."

Haley thought about what her friend was saying, and wondered if there wasn't some merit to it. If you were given almost everything, or even earned everything very easily, then maybe you weren't as conditioned to deal with it when things didn't fall the way you want them to.

"So, anyway," she said, gracelessly changing the subject, "Is it time to talk about your little situation yet?"

Brooke groaned, flopping back on the couch. "I don't even want to think about that nightmare, much less talk about it. God, I cannot even believe all that crap."

"Well, we're not going to just lie down and take it," Haley assured her. "It's bogus, and everyone knows it. And we're going to make sure everyone knows it isn't okay, either!"

Brooke looked at her doubtfully, her eyes barely open. "I don't know, somehow I'm thinking the administration doesn't care all that much if they let it happen in the first place," she pointed out. "Maybe it isn't even worth it!"

"Of course it is worth it!" Haley exclaimed, nudging her friend on the thigh with her foot. "God, I can't believe you're letting this defeatism creep in now! We haven't even started to fight this, and you're all ready to give up. That's pathetic, Brooke Davis!"

To Haley's surprise, Brooke started laughing. "You reminded me of myself with that little speech," Brooke gasped out at Haley's questioning look. "It was just weird."

She wasn't too sure what to make of that, so Haley just smiled back at her, shrugging. "Right, well, anyway, like I was saying, I'm not letting you give up on this. Even if I have to resort to sounding like you to do it!"

"Oh, you're twisted and evil, I love it," Brooke crowed, clapping her hands delightedly. She sobered after a second, the weight of her predicament crashing back down upon her. "I just don't know if any of this will do any good."

"Well, maybe it won't," Haley conceded, "But would you rather let them screw you over like this? Brooke, this doesn't just impact what you do in high school, you know! This impacts how colleges look at you! They are taking things away from you that aren't even tangible yet!"

Brooke looked back at her friend, a resigned expression on her face. "If they aren't tangible, do they matter?"

"If you roll over on this, Brooke Penelope Davis, I will have to kill you in your sleep!" Haley warned her with mock menace. Softening, she sighed. "Listen, you're right in thinking this will be hard. And you're right in thinking there are no guarantees in this. I can't even promise we'll win."

"We?" Brooke asked quietly, uncharacteristically subdued.

"Hell, yes, we!" she half hollered in return. "I am not hanging you out to dry on this. I'm a good friend, contrary to what everyone apparently thinks these days."

Brooke smiled widely at her friend and roommate's assertion. "I know that. Never doubted it even for a second, Hales. But this is above and beyond anything that anyone has ever done for me."

Haley looped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll figure something out. You aren't going down like this, not without a fight."

"But I'm so good at going down," Brooke teased, a little of her old sparkle entering her eyes. "I'm kidding. Well, that's actually true, but I'm just playing."

"I know," Haley laughed, hugging her. "We will do something about this. You just have to be on board and willing to work. Hard work, Davis."

"Oh, I am!" Brooke promised, nodding enthusiastically. "I want my damn life back."

Haley nodded, leaning back against the soft couch cushions. "Then we're going to get it back for you." She doesn't know how or when, but she means what she just promised.

Maneuvering behind the counter of her café, mindful of the piping hot pot of coffee in her hand, Karen reflexively looked up when the bell on the door jingled, announcing a new customer. To her surprise, Dan was standing in the doorway, looking around awkwardly. She quirked an eyebrow at him, letting him see the questions she had over his appearance here.

"Hi," he greeted, his voice gruffer than he'd have liked, softer than she cared for. "I just came to see you. I mean, to talk about Luke, of course."

"I'm not sure what there is to talk about," she said warily, busying herself wiping off the counter. "You and Luke, if you want to work things out, then that's between the two of you. Not me. I can't do that for you, Danny."

They both started at her use of his childhood nickname. When he left Karen behind, he left that part of himself behind, as well. Now, only his mother and brother used it, and the latter mockingly. If anything, the level of awkwardness around them ratcheted up tenfold.

"I'm not asking for your help," he promised, in some ways more to fill the uncomfortable silence than anything else. "I sort of wanted to get your opinion on something. Run something by you, see what you think of it."

She arched a brow at him, more curious than she'd care to admit. "If it is campaign slogans, I was never good at coming up with cute catchphrases."

That elicited a small smile from him, and she hated that the sight of it hit her in the heart a tiny bit. "Actually, I had this idea, and I was wondering if you think this is a good idea, a good way for me to hopefully make a new start with Luke, and Nathan, too." This time she shifted in apprehension, dropping the dishrag to the counter. He sighed, noting her reaction. "I wouldn't ask for anything, Kar. Nothing other than the use of a table in here once or twice a week, and maybe an hour or two of your time, if you'd eat with us."

"You do realize that for some reason, the boys aren't on the best of terms right now, don't you?" she asked faintly, not caring that she was letting on how flustered he was making her. "Maybe doing a group bonding session isn't your best bet."

He nodded, letting her off the hook in regards to her obvious discomfort with all of this. "Maybe this will help with that," he offered, bitterness clogging his throat. "They bonded over their mutual hatred of me once before, maybe they can do it again."

"I hope you don't expect me to feel sorry for you," Karen began, about to go on when he held up his hand.

"I can be an inexplicably foolish man in many, many regards," he said huskily, looking at her with an intensity that she couldn't tear her gaze away from. "And I've made the kind of mistakes that have wrecked me. But I know better than that, and I don't want you or anyone else feeling sorry for me. Just the same, knowing that I've made mistakes and that I deserve where I'm at doesn't mean that I don't want to work for better, especially with my sons."

"You talk like it will be easy," she retorted, shaking her head at him. "You act like you deserve another chance from those boys. You act like everyone should forget how you treated them, and let bygones be bygones."

He shook his head, rolling his eyes at her. "You don't know what you're talking about," he hissed. "There is nothing I want more than to forge at least civil relationships with both of my sons. I don't have anything else anymore, but maybe one day I can have that. And you know what? It would be enough. It really would."

She sighed, torn between giving in and pitying him, believing him just a smidge and brushing him off. "What you're hoping," she countered softly, "It's a lot. More than you have a right to ask from either of those boys, Dan. I just hope you can keep that in mind when you're dealing with them."

He took a seat on one of the stools. "I know that, Kar. I see that every day when I look in the mirror and I wonder how I got so old and so alone. I see the empty places at my table they could be filling, or the kids that work at the dealership – that could be them. Or if things had been different, if I'd been different, maybe we could play basketball together. They'd be on the same team, and I'd have to tell them to go easy on me, because I'm old and rickety."

"Dan," she sighed, shaking her head. "That's – god, what's wrong with you? Why couldn't you have gotten this years ago?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "Maybe it's just in my face now. What I could've had, what I did have, what I'm missing now. As if the empty house isn't enough, I have Haley James breathing down my neck five days a week reminding me of all of it."

Karen took a deep breath at the mention of Haley. She'd become nearly as fiercely protective of her as she was of Lucas. "Speaking of Haley, I think that it is time that someone told me what is going on there. Why is she working for you? Why did you hire her?"

"There isn't some great dastardly plan there," he told her, even though he knew she wouldn't believe it for a single second. "She's smart," he admitted, surprisingly free of reluctance. "Smarter than I gave her credit for. I think I might actually respect her a little bit."

She raised an eyebrow at him, unsure how to respond to that. "That's all fine and well, Dan, but the fact remains, she's not working for you because it is fun. And you didn't hire her to be nice. So what was it? Are you blackmailing her? Holding some information you have on Nathan over her head?"

He shook his head, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. It would hardly do to get impudent over her assumptions. "The truth is, she approached me with something, and this was the trade-off. I helped her, she's helping me."

"What the hell could you have possibly helped her with?" Karen wanted to know, keeping her voice low so as not to draw attention from the few customers littering the tables.

"That's her business," Dan said neutrally. "Part of the deal was that we'd keep it between ourselves." Sighing, he leant forward. "Look, this really isn't what I came here to talk to you about."

"Yeah, you want to talk about my son," Karen grumbled, irritated with his vague answers and sidestepping. "But Haley affects my son. And if you're hurting her, if you're forcing her to work for you, so help me God – "

"It isn't like that, Kar!" he exclaimed, not caring that all eyes are on them now. "She and I might snap at each other a bit, and we don't trust each other, but it's not bad. I'm not hurting her, I'm not forcing her to do anything she doesn't want to. I'm not even that rude to her very often. It's a business arrangement, and believe me, she's coming out on top in terms of compensation and benefits."

Karen shook her head. "I just don't get it," she sighed. "Haley won't tell me what's going on, says she 'can't', and you won't tell me, but hey, I couldn't expect anything there. I just feel like there is something that I should know, something that I'm missing here. She's never hid anything from me before."

He didn't think he'd ever felt this strong of a wave of guilt before, but there it was, beating down on him. With everything that he had, with everything that he was, he wanted to tell Karen the truth about Luke's illness. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her while he promised her that they'd make sure he was okay.

He couldn't, of course. And he couldn't tell, either, because that would break things with Luke forever, and he knew that. Rock, meet the hard place. He was the nearly non-existent space between.

"Hey," she greeted carefully as the door swings open, eyeing her mother-in-law warily. "Is Nathan here?"

"He's upstairs," Deb answered cordially, enough so that Haley wondered just how good this divorce had been for her. "Why don't you go ahead and go up?"

"Thanks," was Haley's quiet response, and she stepped past the older woman, making her way up the stairs. She paused in front of Nathan's room, taking a deep breath before knocking.

"Go away, Mom," was the muffled response that she got. Ignoring it, she opened the door, pushing her way in. "I told you to go away," he grumbled, hunched over the keyboard of his computer.

"You told your mom to go away, and since I'm not her…"

"Haley," he said dumbly, his head snapping up and around to look at her. "What – did I forget something? Was I supposed to meet you?"

She shook her head, hand still on the doorknob as she hovered in the doorway. "I just wanted to talk to you. To see you."

"Yeah, okay," he agreed, motioning towards the bed. "Just close the door behind you. Mom has been extra nosy lately. I don't know what her problem is."

"What are you working on?" Haley asked him as she settled herself on the bed. "Anything I can help with."

"You don't have to come over here and do my homework, Haley," he told her. "That's not going to magically fix things."

She nodded, looking down at the quilt she was sitting on top of. "I didn't think it would. I was just offering to help if I could."

He sighed, guilt for being so snippy, so instigative with her. "I'm sorry, ignore me. I have an English exam tomorrow – we have to write an essay on Macbeth, and I'm nowhere near prepared enough for it."

"If I can help, I'd like to," she told him, but he shook his head. "Really, Nathan, you know me, tutor geek extraordinaire."

He got up from his desk chair, moving over to sit down at the head of the bed. He patted the space beside him, and she scooted up to sit next to him. "I don't want to waste our time studying," he told her seriously. "We can talk or watch a movie. Hey, maybe we could go to the store and get Macbeth to watch! That shit's gotta be a movie, right?"

"Probably," she agreed, smiling shyly at him. "If that's what you want to do, that's fine with me. I'm good to go."

He shifted so that he was turned towards her, his knees brought up, resting against her thighs. "Let's just stay here, huh?"

"Yeah, if you want, then I'd like that," she agreed, her smile widening. Just the simple feel of the weight of his knee resting against her leg felt safe and like home to her. "Um, so how are your classes going? Besides Macbeth, of course."

He smiled at her, reaching under her legs to lift and drop them on top of his. "Classes are classes, Hales. Do you really want to talk about school?"

She grinned at that, relaxing a little bit back into the cushion of pillows against the headboard. "No, I suppose I don't want to talk about school. I'm just not sure what we can talk about."

A bit of his smile faded away at that truth, and he sighed as he rested his forearms on her legs. "Well, what did you have in mind when you came over here?"

She shrugged dismissively. "I don't really know."

"Well, you must've at least had an idea of what you wanted to talk about, right?" he pressed. "We can talk about that."

"Really, Nathan, I just wanted to see you. A, um, a part of me figured you wouldn't want to see me." He raised his eyebrows at her, and she shrugged again, this time rueful. "I don't know! It's hard! I want to do and say a million things, but I'm so afraid that the one I start with will be the wrong one, and it will just slam the door shut on the progress that we've made. I don't want to do that."

"Hales," he tried to break in, dismayed over the tears forming in her eyes, but she kept going, venting her fears.

"And then, what if what I say the first time is okay, and even the second and fifth and twentieth? And then, then I say the wrong thing the hundredth time, and I've got all this hope built up, and – and – and it's wrong, and I don't deserve it, and I lose you again, and I can't lose you again, Nathan!" she cried. "I can't, I can't. I just can't do that!"

He pulled her onto his lap, shushing at her. "Hales, shh, baby, shh."

"I'm sorry," she hiccupped, inwardly furious with herself for losing it like this. She wiped at her eyes, trying to get rid of some of the mess of makeup she was sure was there. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. God, I really did not want to do that tonight. This was – it was just so surprising that you didn't kick me out, and I'm overreacting, and I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, Hales."

"There's a lot I have to apologize for," she reasoned. "Maybe that's what we should talk about tonight."

He shook his head, disagreeing. "I don't want to talk about the heavy stuff tonight," he told her, pulling her a little closer. "I'd rather just sit here like this, and let it all be."

She relaxed in his arms, drooping against him a little bit. She couldn't help but think that perhaps the secrets she'd been keeping, and the need to always be alert around Dan have wound her up to the point where she just snapped. She couldn't think of any other rational reason for her mini breakdown just now. It didn't matter, she supposed, since Nathan was so nice about it and she was in his arms now, but that was not the way she wanted to do this. She didn't want tears to suck Nathan in, and she didn't want him with her because he felt guilty.

"What are we doing?" she asked after a few minutes, lifting her head from his chest to look in his eyes.

"I'm holding you," he replied, winking at her. "If you don't know…"

"Don't joke," she admonished lightly, sighing. "I mean it. Do you just feel sorry for me? I mean, because I started crying like a ridiculous baby."

He shook his head slowly, brushing an errant strand of hair off her face. "I don't feel sorry for you, Hales. There are a lot of things that you make me feel, but pity isn't one of them. I don't know how to define what this is, but I'm not doing it to jerk you around or make you feel bad. I'm not."

She nodded, cuddling against his chest. "I never thought you were," she sighed. "And I never thought it was more than I deserved, either. I know I messed up by leaving, Nathan. I get that. But now I just want to put that behind us so that we can move forward. I want to be your wife again."

He took a deep breath, unsure of how to respond. A part of him felt ready to let go, and move forward like she wanted. But the other part of him, the brain part, told him that it was too soon, the hurt too fresh. He just wasn't ready to forgive, forget and give her back all the power she had over him and his heart. He just wasn't ready to be vulnerable again.

It was just hard to say no to her when she was lying on his chest, about as vulnerable as he'd ever seen her. It hurt him to know that he was hurting her, and somehow, that took away a bit of the sting from the hurt she caused. Not much, but some, since he knew that she was truly sorry. That she meant it when she said she'd take it back, that she'd give anything to take his hurt away. He believed that of her, because he felt the same way.

Sighing, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I can't – I'm not ready to give you that yet, Hales."

Pulling away from him, she moved back over to the other side of the bed, smiling sadly at him. "Yeah, I know, I'm asking for a lot."

"I'm trying," he whispered, hurt that she'd pull away from him. "I just can't give you that yet. It takes time, I guess."

She nodded again, looking blankly over at his dresser. He knew that she saw the spaces where pictures of her should be, where pictures of them should be. Every little thing seemed painful these days, like it was putting more space between them even as they eased closer together.

"Maybe I should get going," she said quietly into the silence. "I could start working on Brooke's case."

He didn't want her to go – he knew that much, he could deal with that much. "Stay, Hales," he implored her, grabbing her hand and sandwiching it between his own. "I don't want you to leave."

She managed a smile for him, slightly brighter than he expected, and he was proud of her. Proud that she was strong enough to fight for him, for them. Proud that she was holding on for both of them, even when he couldn't, and wouldn't.

"I don't want to go," she said firmly. "It's nice to be here with you."

"Even if I can't give you what you want?" he asked, his voiced clipped to mask the insecurities behind the questions.

She smirked at him, mimicking his own favorite look so well. "Maybe that makes it just that much more important."

He grinned back at her, laughing as she swung her legs back over his. "See, that's one thing I love most about you, Haley; you always see the bright side and take the challenge in things."

As he turned his attention to grabbing the remote and yakking about what they might watch, she knew that he didn't realize what he had said. She knew that it just slipped out, and somehow, that was even better than if he had said it thoughtfully.

When she showed up for work the next morning, tired as all get out and not looking forward to another day of bantering and bickering with Dan, she was still practically floating over Nathan's inadvertent admission from the night before. Some things stuck with you, what could she do?

But now here she was, ready to get knee-deep in work on Dan's campaign, as well as handling any clerical work that came up from the dealership. It wasn't ideal – if things were, she'd be with Nathan right now, not skulking around trying to avoid his father. That's possibly as far from ideal as she could get.

Then again, she wasn't sure exactly why she was avoiding him. By all accounts, he seemed…different, for lack of a better word. Of course, in the case of Dan Scott, different was not bound to be a good thing ninety percent of the time. Maybe even more often than that. Here he was, though, acting all human and feeling, and damn it, she didn't know what she should do with that. Did she take it at face value? Dismiss it outright? He seemed to genuinely care for both of his boys, the two most important people in her world, and it seemed to be geared to more than just what glory they could bring him.

And that was new and exciting. She'd never, not one single time, gotten this vibe from him before. It was baffling, at best, and downright shocking at worst. Granted, he still didn't seem all that thrilled with her place in the boys' lives, but she had to grant that it seemed like he was even beginning to accept that. Which was extra scary in and of itself.

For all the hard time that she was having accepting this allegedly kinder, gentler Dan, she knew that Nathan and Lucas, and Karen for that matter, were probably having a far, far harder time. Because they'd lived with the ruthless Dan Scott, the one that coldly turned his back on one son while nearly creating a monster in his image out of the other. The effects were deeper for all of them, and even if she could trust that he was sincere in his assertions that getting to know his boys was a priority to him, the only priority, she knew that it might not be something they'd ever trust or believe.

"Haley," he greeted, as she shuffles past his office, pretending to be concentrating on the papers in her hands, "Could you come in here for a second?"

She blinked, removing her reading glasses. "Can I help you?" she asked formally, wincing at the brisk sound of her voice.

"I don't know," he sighed. "I hope so. How's Luke doing? You don't have to tell me any details about his personal life, I just meant with the medications. Are they helping? Any side effects? Are they affecting him in any way?"

God damn him and his actually believable worry for Luke. It pained her that he's fostering all this…good will, for lack of a better term, from her. His concern was evident, as was his caring. She can't discount that, no matter how much she kept trying.

"He's okay, Dan. I don't know that you'll believe this, but if something was wrong, I would tell you. If he wasn't reacting well to the meds, or he gets worse, I'd tell you. I'd have to tell Karen, and piss him off forever, but I'd tell both of you. That's – that's not something I'd hide for him."

"I believe that," Dan stated solemnly. "I even believe that you'd tell me. Obviously, Karen was no question, but I do believe you'd tell me. Would you tell Nathan?"

"If something was immediately wrong with Luke? God, of course," she asserted hotly, her back up at the mention of her husband's name. "It's on the tip of my tongue to tell him now, half the time."

"Why haven't you?" Dan asked mildly, belying his interest in the matter.

She shrugged, fiddling with her glasses. "I promised Luke," she sighed. "I think in some ways, he wants Nathan to know even less than he wants his mother to. I can't talk him out of it, and you can believe me, I've tried."

Dan nodded thoughtfully. "Stubbornness seems to be a standard Scott trait. Some of it has even rubbed off on you." He smirked at her raised eyebrows. "What? Surprised I acknowledged the familial connection? As much as I'd like to deny it, it is a little hard when it's flashed in my face in the form of that wedding band of yours."

"It's always one step forward, one back with you, isn't it?" she sighed. "Like, you actually seem human for ten minutes, but then you say or do something that brings it all back around to where we started."

"I wasn't trying to be rude," he countered, rolling his eyes. "Listen, of all the things I've said about you and Nathan's little adventures in playing house, I'd think that was fairly mild."

"Does it even matter?" she asked snippily, putting her glasses back on. "Like a lesser insult or degrading or dismissive comment has less impact? Do you have any concept of why exactly Nathan and Luke don't trust you? Did you ever stop and think that maybe – just maybe – it was because of things like that?"

He tipped his head back, his smirk dissolving into sarcastic laughter. "Come on, they aren't girls!"

She gaped at him, unsure of where to even begin with that. "You just don't get it, Dan! My God, not even the toughest person in the world wants to have snarky, assy comments directed at them all the time!"

"No, you don't get it!" he countered. "Those are my boys, and they – they should know that – that – "

"That what?" she exclaimed in exasperation, a cynical laugh bubbling past her lips. "That you 'don't mean it that way'? That 'they're just too sensitive'? Do you even hear yourself? Really, I'd like to know."

"You don't understand!" Dan countered angrily. "You could never understand because you're young, and you're selfish!"

"So? You're old and selfish! And I'm working damn hard to fix the mistakes that I made, so don't you dare throw it in my face!"

"Then why are you throwing the ones I've made in mine?" he asked quietly, and the wind flew out from both of their arguments. Haley took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. Dan regarded her for a minute before sighing. "You're right, I suppose."

She tore her gaze away from the ceiling to study his face. "About…what?" she asked cautiously.

"About everything, I suppose," he answered, this time there was no bitterness in his voice. "That I'm an awful father, that I have no business trying to mend my relationships with the boys. And even worse, I have no business pointing out the failures and flaws of other people."

"We all make mistakes," she ended up sighing. "I suppose that in the end, it is how we deal with them that matters."

He nodded, sighing heavily. "That sounds surprisingly relevant," he sniffed. "More than I'd have imagined could be produced by a seventeen year old girl."

She didn't rise to the bait; instead, she merely arched a brow at him. "Yeah, imagine that, the great Dan Scott learning something from his son's wife. Such a shock," she deadpanned, even though she wasn't really malicious in saying it. Not like she had been in some of her other dealings with him. It was just…different now. She didn't know if it was because she could sympathize with him now, or if he had actually changed in some way, some indefinable way.

Whatever it was, it was creepy. Nice, she supposed, in an overly cautious, wait and see kind of way, but still creepy.

"I love my boys," he said softly. "Now I want to know them, too."

"It'll take time," she noted pointedly. "Neither of them are really predisposed to trust your motives anymore."

"Thanks for pointing that out, Captain Obvious."

"I'm just saying," she shrugged, a touch defensive. It bothered her to feel like she was being tricked or had, like she was falling for lies that Dan was telling. It really bothered her that she wasn't even sure if he was lying anymore.

He nodded, looking thoughtful. "I know a little about how Luke is doing from Karen and you. But I don't know how Nathan's doing?"

She shrugged, not sure what to say. With Luke, Dan's knowledge of his condition was a little more crucial in the grand scheme of things. It took a little heat off of her if he was up-to-date on how his medicine was working, if he was going to his appointments. But Nathan didn't have any health problems, and talking about him with Dan didn't feel right. It felt like she was betraying her husband, and she was pretty sure she'd done enough of that to last a million lifetimes.

"If you want to know, pick up the phone and call him," she suggested curtly. "I'm not your message service, or your spy. If it's that important to you, find out from him. That's about the only way you'll ever gain an inch from Nathan anyway, and we both know that."

He turned around, leaning forward to rest his hands against the sill of the large picture window. "I've begun to doubt I'll ever get that anyway."

"I can't help you," Haley warned, twisting a lock of hair around her finger. "You have to figure this out yourself, and do it on your own."

"Thanks, I hadn't figured that out from the first eight hundred times you told me that," he snarked back, not even turning around. "You think you've got it all figured out, don't you? You think there is no way either of the boys will ever really let me in, but they'll both forgive you in a heartbeat for betraying them by working for me. Do you really think either of them are that easy?"

She scoffed, wishing she had more than just papers in her hand. Objects that would make better throwing devices.

"I've never thought it would be easy, and I know exactly what the risks are for me in this," she stated flatly. "But hey, if they find out and cut me out of their lives forever, at least Luke will be getting heart meds. That's more important to me than my own happiness."

"Is it really?" he asked. "Because I've seen how wrapped up you are in making sure Nathan is coddled, too. You're completely wrapped up in him, and you're obviously willing to do whatever it takes to get him back. Your happiness is too tied in with his."

"Well, he's my husband!" she exclaimed, and he turned from his perch at the window to watch her. "Of course his happiness matters to me! And I'm going to fight like hell to make sure his happiness is with me."

He sighed, looking at her with something akin to pity. "Have you ever thought that you're too wrapped up in him, that too much hinges on whether or not he takes you back?"

"And have you ever thought," she retorted, "That too little of your heart hinges on what your family thinks and feels of you? Come on, Daddy Dan! You can tell my truths, why don't you tell your own?"

She smirked knowingly as he turned away to again stare out the window. "You think that too little of my heart hinges on my family?"

"No," she corrected tiredly. "I think too much does, but in all the wrong ways. You just pour it all into basketball, the rest of life be damned. And if they don't cooperate with you there, then you can't seem to relate to them in any other way."

"You're killing me here," he laughed without the barest trace of humor. "You say you can't give me advice, and yet here you are, spewing out exactly what I've done wrong."

"Don't worry, it isn't advice, just observation. You can do with it as you please; you always do anyway, right?"

He turned around again to stare at her hard, almost imploring her to see something there. "I want to make things different with my boys now."

"And I've said before that I believe that," she sighed. "But it really isn't up to me, is it?"

With that, without waiting for a response, she turned and walked out of his office, leaving the intensity of the conversation behind her. The back and forth that always happened with Dan was just too much for her to take any longer. He knew what to say to wound her, to make her doubt that she'd ever get her life with Nathan back, and she couldn't always handle those reminders. She also didn't particularly care that he could turn her into a raging shrew with quid pro quo tendencies quicker than anyone else in the world.

Maybe one day things would go back to normal. Then again, what was normal?