A/N: Thank you again to everybody who is reading this. Special thanks to those of you who take the time to leave me some feedback. It is very much appreciated. Love you all!!!

Funny fact for this chapter concerning the saying…nip it in the 'bud' or 'butt'? Haha, I wasn't sure so I looked it up, because I didn't want to use the wrong one and sound stupid. LOL. Funny part is, answers were split almost evenly, so I'm not the only one who didn't know. I don't feel so stupid now. Hehe. But there was a slightly higher amount that said 'bud' so I went with that.

Hope everybody likes this chapter. Please let me know.

Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or any of its characters.

Monday morning, Peyton sat at her kitchen table, picking away at her pop tart, as yesterday's events clouded her mind. She couldn't say she was completely surprised by Nathan's reaction. She'd known he'd get upset that she was associating with Lucas in any way. But she hadn't expected the accusation, nor the blatant order to stop talking to the guy.

Funny how things worked sometimes. Before Nathan had found out, she'd already made the decision to cut off communication with his brother. It's not like it was a difficult choice for her. Yes, she'd enjoyed their conversation, and she'd started to see the guy in a different light, but she still barely knew him so to her, getting to know him mattered much less than keeping things good between her and Nathan as long as she could. It wasn't worth risking more problems in their relationship for a virtual stranger.

Until Nathan had accused her of sleeping with him and barked out his demands as though he had every right to dictate who she was allowed to talk to. Her father didn't even do that; no way she was going to let her boyfriend do it. She couldn't even understand what had possessed Nathan to believe she would. She stared off in the distance, trying to get some kind of grasp on it.

Flashback

"I don't want to get to know him. I want you to stop talking to him," he said. "I'm not asking, Peyton."

Peyton took a deep breath, unsure of her next move. And then it really hit her what he'd said, his tone in how he'd said it, and what that implied. "What did you just say?" she asked, flabbergasted, giving him the opportunity to re-word his remark.

He didn't. Instead, he crossed his arms and glared at her intently, in no mood to compromise. For him this conversation was not up for debate. "I'm not kidding, Peyton. Whatever you got going with this bastard ends now. I mean it."

Ignoring his bastard comment, she stared him down, planting her feet firmly on the ground beneath her. "I don't have anything going with him, Nathan," she said angrily. "Nothing but a few simple conversations."

He shrugged at her answer. "Should be easy then," he said coldly.

She couldn't believe he was acting this way – so…authoratively. True he had a tendency toward arrogance, and yes, he held that superior notion and attitude with others, that came directly from his looks, money, talent, and social status. But he was never that way with her. Well, she couldn't say never – in the very beginning of their relationship, he had tried on a few occasions to be the dominant one over her, but she knew that was only because he was used to getting his way with girls, no matter what the issue. She'd nipped that in the bud early on, and he'd quickly learned that she couldn't be controlled. Her reward for that had been Nathan's prolonged interest. Before her, he'd never stayed with a girl for more than a few weeks before he was bored. He seemed impressed by her independence and the fact that she didn't allow him to push her around, despite the fact that it caused several arguments between them. Not that he was perfect. His constant cheating was definitely proof of that. And he was still often critical or indifferent to her art and her music, so he hadn't relinquished full control; he still knew how to get to her and her emotions, but he didn't generally display such a flagrant disregard to her rights as an equal partner – as a human being, to make her own decisions. Never, since the beginning of their relationship had he had the audacity to throw out an order and expect her to follow it.

Peyton realized he was angry and, under the circumstances, probably even had a right to be, so she could just give him this and agree. It didn't mean he would suddenly go all control freak on her in every other aspect. But what if he did? What if this was a foreshadowing of future behavior? Just the beginning? If she let this go now, would he take that as the green light to treat her however he pleased later on?

Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn't let this go, not only because of just said reasons, but also because she didn't want to follow his orders. She was her own person and could do what she wanted, when she wanted, with whoever she wanted. Some would call it pride, independence, self-respect, or maybe even selfishness, but whatever it was, she couldn't bring herself to do as she was told, even if she had planned to do that anyway in the first place.

"What, are you my lord and master that I should have to obey on command?" she asked him furiously.

Nathan sighed in frustration. Did she not get it? Didn't she understand? This was Lucas. The guy hell-bent on getting in his world and turning it upside down. He'd already implanted himself into the basketball scene, a reality Nathan had just barely begun to come to terms with and maybe could even eventually accept, but now he was after Peyton. Nathan knew Lucas liked her – he'd always known. But he'd thought he was safe with her, that she wasn't interested in Lucas. But she'd been talking to him. Called him Luke even. And worse than any of that – Peyton's comment to him… 'I thought you werebetter than them.' He wouldn't forget that one.

"Peyton, you know I don't do that anymore. Not usually. But this is different," he said sharply. "So, maybe I'm being an ass…"

"Maybe?"

"Look, I'm sorry if it seems like I'm ordering you around…"

"Seems like?" she cut him off again. "You are, Nathan."

"Ok, but…" He sighed deeply, running his hands though his dark hair. "I just…I don't want you talking to him," he said again.

"Yeah, I got that," Peyton told him haughtily. "Now you get that what you want isn't God's law."

"I know that, Peyton."

"Well, you seem to think it should be."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "No I don't," he denied. "I just don't like him. And I don't want my girlfriend associating with rivercourt trash," he added snidely.

Peyton's jaw dropped. "I can't believe you just said that," she said in disgust. She'd heard him call Lucas a lot of foul names, but never one quite so vile. Little did she know, he used it quite often with his teammates when referring to Lucas, and even directly to Lucas himself. Just never in front of her because he knew she would freak out. "He's a human being, Nathan."

Nathan sneered in contempt. "A sorry excuse for one if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you. And what makes you any better than him?"

"Everything," Nathan replied harshly. "Why do you think he wants my life so bad?"

"I don't think he wants your life at all."

"Is that what he told you? Because if it is, he's full of shit."

"No, he didn't tell me that. But why would he want to be a jackass? Because that's what he'd have to be to be just like you."

"Right, cause he's not one already," Nathan remarked dryly.

"No. No, he's not. He's a good guy, Nathan."

I thought you were better than them. He couldn't shake those words. "I guess you would know, based on your couple of talks," he said to Peyton.

"Oh, you're one to talk," Peyton argued. "You've judged him without ever having a single conversation with him."

"Oh, I've had plenty of conversations with him," Nathan replied with a sinister smirk. Looks like it's time for another.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not talking about ones where you're bullying him. I mean a decent conversation."

Nathan shook his head. "Look, just because you've got this sudden urge to talk to him, don't expect me to."

"And just because you don't, don't expect me not to."

He stood glaring at her. "I'm not joking about this, Peyton," he said in one last attempt to change her mind.

"Neither am I."

"Why? Why can't you just do this for me?" he wanted to know.

"Because I shouldn't have to," she answered.

"Fine," he said with contempt. "Do whatever you want," he added before walking away, leaving her to stare after him in silence.

End of Flashback

Peyton gave up on her pop tart, pushing it aside hastily. She wasn't hungry. Thoughts of the previous day consumed her; there was no room for anything else.

She already missed Nathan. Everything was a mess. How had things gotten so out of control? Why had she been so foolish to go off on Lucas, therefore letting Nathan know of their…what? Friendship? Association? She didn't even know. Neither quite fit.

Neither did she know why she'd gone after Lucas like she had. It wasn't like it was any of her business. Who was she to yell at him? But the truth was, she'd really admired and respected how proudly he'd spoken of his mother, and it had gotten to her that he'd completely trashed her café over a few words said. She'd expect that of Nathan, not Lucas, although she couldn't say why. Didn't he know how lucky he was to have his mother? He'd seemed to when they'd spoken, but his actions had told a different story. Then again, he'd been defending his best friend. She could see that now, but yesterday she'd just seen a guy who'd previously claimed pride in his mother's accomplishments, and then completely disregarded them. She acknowledged to herself that she owed him an apology for yelling at him when she definitely had no right.

As for Nathan, she hadn't seen or heard from him since yesterday when he'd left her standing outside the café. She'd tried calling him, texting him. He wasn't replying to her texts and her calls went straight to voice mail, which he clearly was ignoring as well.

She wondered where he'd gone last night. Home? Elsewhere? She hoped it was the first. She sighed, part of her wishing she'd just agreed to stay away from Lucas. If she had, Nathan would have been here with her last night. He'd be here with her right now. No, she corrected, glancing at the clock on the wall. Right now he'd be at practice. But she would have been able to sleep in his arms all night.

Couldn't she have just swallowed her pride and let him away with his one small demand? Just once, couldn't she have cut him some slack, since it was Lucas? She knew there was bad blood between them, so he wasn't really being unreasonable. Was he? Oh why had she gone and ruined their early blissful moments? Their troubles would have come soon enough without her bringing them on sooner. They always did. 'You didn't bring them on. Nathan did,' the voice of logic screamed. 'Nathan overreacted.' 'He had a right to be mad.' 'So did you.'

She shook her head of its conflicting thoughts and jumbled emotions. Rising from her chair, she went upstairs to continue getting ready for school. She hoped Nathan wouldn't skip today. She really wanted to talk to him and figure out some way to resolve this issue. A way they could both be happy with. And yet she knew the only way he'd be happy with any of this was if she were to give in. It dawned on her then that she might have considered it had he not accused her of sleeping with Lucas. That accusation, to her, hurt far worse than his demand. Not that either sat well with her. But she missed him and loved him too much to let this come between them. There had to be some kind of resolution.

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Nathan, along with most of his teammates, were in the gym doing routine warm-ups when Whitey blew his whistle to call them all in. He had a set of practice drills that he wanted to get through in the next hour. Dividing the boys into two teams, he started shouting out each name and pointing to which team they'd be on and which position they'd play. As he did so Nathan's mind played back the events of this morning.

Flashback

Nathan drove by the rivercourt, as he had to do on a daily basis to get to school. As he often did, he saw Lucas there, shooting around. He smiled to himself as he pulled in to the empty lot. If he couldn't get through to Peyton, then he sure as hell was going to get through to Lucas. He stepped out of the car and boldly walked up toward him.

End of Flashback

"Lucas Scott," Whitey said upon reaching his name on the list, breaking Nathan's satisfying memory.

"Lucas is probably gonna be a bit late today, Coach," Nathan said smugly.

"Why's that?" Whitey asked suspiciously.

Nathan shrugged. "Just a guess, since he's not here yet," he replied easily.

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Karen stood at the stove, her back toward the door when she heard it open and close. Knowing it was Lucas, and that he'd snuck out of his room early this morning, she started speaking. "You've just added another week," she said tersely, referring to the punishment she'd given him for fighting in the café. "When I said you were grounded for two weeks, that included from the rivercourt," she added, turning from the eggs she'd been frying.

She gasped in horror when she saw him. Blood poured from his nostrils, huge cuts lay open all over his face, including one deep gash above his brow. Bruises covered his complexion. One eye was completely blackened, the other only slightly, and he held on to his left arm in agony. Dropping the pan with the eggs, Karen rushed over to her son and led him to a chair, sitting him down gently. "Honey, what happened? Who did this?"

"I don't know," he lied, his face etched in pain as he continued to cradle his arm with one hand. "It hurts," he admitted.

"We need to get you to the hospital," she stated in worry.

"What about the café?" he asked.

"It's not going anywhere," Karen replied. "Come on," she continued, helping him out to the car.

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"Hey," Nathan said, coming over to lean on the locker next to Peyton's. "Still mad at me?"

Peyton looked at him with confusion. "I'm not the one who took off," she countered. "I tried to call you."

"Yeah," he acknowledged. "I'm sorry I didn't pick up. I was pissed off," he admitted to her.

"I know. And now?" Peyton asked him.

He shrugged. He was still mad about it all, but he was pretty sure he'd gotten his point across to Lucas. "What can I do about it, right?" he said reasonably. "I mean, you're your own person. I can't tell you what to do. And I'm sorry for what I said," he continued. "I know you're not sleeping with Lucas and I was an ass for saying that. You forgive me?"

She smiled brightly at him and leaned over to give him a sweet kiss. Everything had worked out after all. "If you don't do it again," she couldn't resist warning.

"I won't," he said, shaking his head. "I promise."

She grabbed his hand to hold it as they walked down the corridor together. Noticing the heavy bruising on his knuckles, she frowned. "What happened?" she asked suspiciously.

"I punched a wall," he claimed.

Her eyebrows rose. "Geez, how many times?"

"A lot."

She shook her head but smiled. She couldn't really say much, considering her own knuckle she'd broken doing the exact same thing. At least it was a wall he hit, and not a person.

"My feet are kind of bruised up too," he told her with a smirk. "And my knees. Not as bad as my hands though."

"Aww, poor baby," she teased in sympathy, bringing his hand up to her lips and placing a gentle kiss to it. "Better?"

He nodded in response. "Much."

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"Well," the doctor said, coming in with the x-rays, after having already given Luke some pain killers. "The arm's broken in two spots, you got a couple cracked ribs, which should heal fairly quickly. This cut," he added, indicating the one above Lucas's brow, "will need probably fifteen to twenty stitches. The rest of them will heal on their own. The arm will take longer than any of the other injuries. We have to set it and then put a cast on it."

"How long will he have to wear it?" Karen asked.

"Four to six weeks," the doctor replied.

"What about basketball?" was all Lucas wanted to know.

The doctor gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm afraid there will be no basketball, or any other sport, for at least the four to six weeks duration. Probably longer as your arm will be weak for a while." The doctor took in the kid's disappointed expression and tried to offer up some comfort. "However, once it builds up strength, there's no reason why you couldn't play again."

"Like before?"

"I don't see why not," the doctor reassured him, seeing no cause for concern.

"Thank you, doctor," Karen said gratefully. She was just glad her son was ok.

The doctor smiled. "You're welcome." He turned to Lucas. "Now the police have been called. They're going to need a statement from you."

Lucas's head shot up. "Why? I already said I don't know who did this."

"It's hospital policy with any kind of assault," the doctor informed him. "Just tell them what you do know. That's all you can do."

Lucas nodded, but silently vowed he wouldn't say a word, even though every fiber in his body told him he should. He wouldn't do that to his brother.