A/N: Again, thanks to all the readers and especially the reviewers with all the feedback and encouragement. It is so much appreciated. Thank you all.

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

Peyton took extra care with her appearance that morning, wanting to look her very best when she went to Nathan, begging for forgiveness. Yet no amount of makeup and cover up could conceal the puffiness around her eyes from both, a lack of sleep and crying all night long and well into morning. Jess and Brooke's phone calls had changed everything and all she wanted to do was hold her boyfriend and make up for her hasty judgment last night. He'd surely been torn up about the suspension and what had she done? Made everything worse. No wonder he'd gone on a drinking binge.

Satisfied with how she looked, despite the red circles beneath her eyes, she made her way down the stairs, going over in her mind what she'd say to Nathan, and intent on doing whatever was necessary to get back on track with him.

Halfway down there was a knock on her front door.

"Mr. Scott?" she asked once she'd opened it. She was flabbergasted, not because he'd shown up at her house – he'd done so a few times looking for Nathan, but because it was only 7am. He didn't appear to have gotten much sleep himself. But he seemed more angry than worried. She had to admit it was quite intimidating.

"Miss Sawyer," he greeted tersely. "Let me talk to my son."

"Nathan's not here," she replied honestly.

"You expect me to buy that?" Dan scoffed. "Give me some credit, will ya. I know this is the first place he'd come. So why don't you run along upstairs, get him out of bed, by whatever means necessary, and send him down. I need to talk to him."

Peyton shivered involuntarily at the suggestive way he'd spoken the words 'whatever means necessary.' Could he be any cruder? And talk? She doubted all he'd do is talk to him if he saw him. He'd most likely rip into him for getting suspended from basketball. Any fool could see the man was vicariously living his own failed dreams through his son, putting unrelenting pressure on him and pushing him to the point of exhaustion with his unrealistic expectations. And yet Nathan, for the most part, would meet those expectations and often times even exceed them – which of course gave Dan all the more hope for his son's successful basketball career. Peyton often times found herself undecided whether Dan's pushing was helpful or harmful. She knew Nathan hated it. The pressure he felt to always be perfect was sometimes very difficult for him to handle, and yet the way he always came back from it, with new strength and purpose, at times made her consider that maybe he really did need that drive from his father to keep motivated. He probably wouldn't be as good as he was if it weren't for his father breathing down his neck, forcing him to put in 110% in each and every game.

But then she also felt the man could tone it down in the criticism department. He was never satisfied with Nathan's performance. No matter how well Nathan played or how many points he scored, his father would always find something to pick apart in his game. That's the part that bothered her the most – that he could never just say, 'great game, son, and leave it at that. There always had to be a 'but', a negative following the positive, when there was any positive at all, that is. And the odd time Nathan had an off day on the court, then all hell would break loose. Dan could never seem to grasp that it happens sometimes, no matter who you are, or how talented and trained you are.

All this considered, how much worse would Dan be now that Nathan had been suspended? How much grief would Nathan have to endure for that? She could only imagine.

She lifted her chin defiantly. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing she was intimidated by him. "With all due respect, sir, Nathan isn't here," she told him haughtily. "You'll notice his car's not out front."

Dan gave a small smile. She was always a sassy one, quite feisty. It was little wonder his son was so infatuated with her. She really was the entire package; lovely, witty, loyal to a fault. He had to wonder again why his son would so carelessly risk losing her time and time again. Yet for all her fine qualities, she allowed his son to repeatedly walk all over her so she had her weak spots too.

"Fine, fine," he said. "Then where is he?"

"I don't know," she lied. If Nate didn't want his father to find him, she wouldn't be the one to tell him where to look.

Dan's face fell at her answer. If she didn't even know where Nathan was, it was time to start worrying. He'd just assumed his son was with Peyton, staying away from home to avoid a confrontation. Dan had been set to show his son what a worse mistake it was to neglect facing him with the news.

Noticing the sudden change in Dan's expression and demeanor, Peyton sensed his newfound concern and tried to find a way to appease the man. "Listen, he did come over last night after he left Cooper's…"

"Cooper's!" Dan thundered, though he wasn't at all surprised that Nathan would take the drive down to Charlotte. His son had always looked up to his uncle Cooper. Dan had yet to understand why – his brother in law was nothing but trouble in his eyes, but it was what it was.

Peyton stared at Dan Scott curiously. Had Nathan not told his father anything last night? Had he not contacted him at all? She stood at a loss for words. While she truly felt Nathan should have at least sent his dad a text assuring him of his safety, she also felt like she'd just revealed what Nathan hadn't intended for his father to know.

"So, where is he now?" Dan asked again.

"I really couldn't say," Peyton responded. She may not completely understand or agree with Nathan's choice, but she would respect it. "We kinda had a fight," she added when Dan threw her a look of disbelief.

He nodded at her remark. He believed her. And why wouldn't he? They were always fighting. "Ok, well, when you see him, tell him to get his ass home."

"Sure, if I see him, I'll let him know."

He made to leave but turned back. "Oh, and while you're at it, tell him the longer he delays it, the worse it's gonna be."

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Nathan was sitting on Brooke's front steps when Peyton pulled in. She noticed he had his head down, but he glanced up when he became aware of another's presence. In that moment, he looked so miserable, like a lost little boy. When their eyes met, she had to swallow the painful lump that formed in her throat. His eyes were blood shot from the alcohol he'd consumed, but there was sadness in them too, and all she wanted to do was pull him to her and hold him as closely and tightly as she could.

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Nathan heard her car pull in and lifted his head as she approached him. She was probably here to see Brooke, he thought dully. Often times they would go to each other's house to do makeup and hair and whatnot, and then jump in one car to get to school.

But Peyton was clearly already made up and man did she look hot in that short denim skirt. Then again, she looked hot in anything.

"Hey," Peyton greeted him when she stood just a few feet away. She was so nervous; afraid he wouldn't forgive her for turning him away when he'd needed her support.

"Hey," he returned, glancing back down toward his feet. "She passed out," he told her, assuming, since she was already ready, that she was here to help Brooke. "I don't think she's going to school," he said so softly it was almost a whisper.

Peyton nodded in response. She expected both Brooke and Nathan would be skipping today. "I actually came to see you."

He didn't even look up. "Why? D'you find more things to chuck at me?"

She squatted to his level and put her hands on both of his legs. "Nathan, I'm sorry," she said, with more emotion than she'd wanted to. "I shouldn't have…" she began shakily, but of course, there was the onslaught of another batch of tears. Damn it! Couldn't she at least get through the first line of her apology without crying like some blubbering idiot?

She took a deep breath to control her unreliable emotions, but before she could begin again, Nathan had already pulled her onto his lap and into a body-crushing embrace. Gone from memory were all the words she'd planned to tell him and all she could do was repeat she was sorry over and over again as her tears fell helplessly down her cheeks, drenching his shirt.

"Shh," Nathan said softly, holding her tighter, if that were possible. "Baby, it's ok," he continued but she just shook her head.

Peyton wasn't sure how Nathan would react to her apology – she'd guessed that she might have to plead with him as she always made him do before she accepted. Never would she have assumed that his forgiveness would be instant. She didn't feel like she deserved it.

Nathan was just happy to have her in his arms and, truth be told, he wasn't at all comfortable with her act of contrition. He never had to forgive Peyton; she was always forgiving him. That's just the way their relationship worked – he apologized, she forgave. Not the other way around. "I'm sorry too," he said.

"No," Peyton said firmly, pulling back a little. "This is my fault," she said, finally able to trust her voice. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"Peyton, it's fine, ok? Let's just forget about it."

"How can you say that?"

"Because as long as you're with me now, I don't care what happened yesterday. I just want to be with you, Peyton."

"So, we just pretend it didn't happen?"

"No, but we can move on from it."

"But we didn't even talk about it."

"Do we really have to dwell on it?"

"I think we both need to know where we stand," she said.

"I know where I stand," he told her. "I love you."

"I love you too, Nate…"

"Then what else do we need to know?"

She felt they needed to discuss this issue, but her thoughts scattered as soon as he pressed his lips onto hers. At the moment, this was all she wanted. She kissed him back fervently, slipping her tongue between his lips, into his mouth. He moaned softly at the sensual gesture. It wasn't long before his hand traveled up the length of her smooth legs to the inside of her skirt. For a few moments she allowed it, but then the distant sound of children screaming brought her back to reality. Here they were in broad daylight, out in the open, losing themselves in each other.

She pulled back with a half smile. "I think we should go inside," she suggested.

He smiled back at her, realizing the reason for her sudden reluctance. "It's just what you do to me," he told her. "I can't think straight."

She laughed at him. "Right. The alcohol has nothing to do with it," she said sarcastically.

"Well actually, we ran out of beer a while ago and I forgot my bottle in Rachel's trunk."

"Aww, you poor thing," she teased, giving him a tender kiss on the mouth.

"Let's go in," he said huskily.

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"Lucas thinks I should demand Dan's help with the medical bills," Karen spoke softly so Lucas, in his room, wouldn't hear her.

She and Keith sat at the kitchen table enjoying a cup of coffee as well as each other's company.

"Are you going to?" Keith asked her.

Karen sighed deeply. "I don't want to," she admitted. "But I may not have a choice. I can't seem to keep my head above water."

"I'll help you any way I can, Karen. You know that."

"I know you will, but Keith, you can't afford that either. And Dan is Luke's biological father. And he's got the money. And it was Dan's other son who did this, even if Lucas won't admit it."

"You've got all these reasons to ask Dan, so what's holding you back?"

"You know Dan," she answered, surprised Keith had even posed that question. "As soon as I take money from that devil of a man, I'll be handing over control."

Keith chuckled. "Not to mention, you'd be admitting that sometimes you can't do it all on your own."

"Whose side are you on?" she asked irritably.

"Yours, Karen. Always yours. Don't ever doubt that."

She smiled her thanks and took a sip of coffee.

"Now," Keith continued, "I think if we put our heads and our riches together, we could find a way for you to stay afloat without having to go to Dan. Maybe we can work out some sort of payment schedule with the hospital.

"Well, one thing I have to do is reopen the café. I've already talked to Haley and she's going to work the café tonight, free of charge, while I take care of Lucas, and then she's gonna stay with Lucas tomorrow night while I'm at the café."

"That's awfully generous of her."

"Yes," Karen agreed. "She's such a sweet girl, always willing to lend a hand when she can. I really don't know what I'd do without her. Or you, for that matter," she went on to say, feeling now like everything might work itself out.

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Brooke awoke abruptly to the sound of a creaking mattress, and both loud and muffled moans coming from the room beside hers. There was no mistaking the sound, or the thud noise that came with it – the headboard repeatedly hitting the wall. 'That son of a bitch!' Brooke thought furiously, throwing off her blanket. What had she told him about that? Since she was still fully dressed, she marched, as she was, to the room next door.

"This is not happening here!" she thundered as she opened the door. "This is NOT Skank Central Station! You can't…Oh!" she stopped suddenly when Nathan and Peyton pulled apart. Brooke scratched her head in confusion. When had Peyton gotten here? Hadn't she just hung up the phone with her? Apparently not. "Sorry," she mumbled, backing out of the room. "Just umm…carry on. Keep the noise level down though. I'm trying to sleep."

"Why are we always getting walked in on?" Peyton asked in humor.

"Who cares?" Nathan replied, climbing back on top of her. The interruption hadn't affected him any for he was perfectly willing to just carry on as Brooke had said. Once he was inside of her again, Peyton too forgot all else.

When they finished, he rolled off and pulled her into his arms. They both laughed when suddenly they heard Brooke scream from the other room.

"Finally! I was about to go join you!"

"I guess we were kind of loud," Peyton said sheepishly.

"Yeah, you were," Nathan teased her, earning him a sharp elbow to the gut. He groaned loudly.

"No way! Not again!" they heard.

"We're done, Brooke," Peyton hollered. "Go to sleep."

"Thank you. It's about time!"

They lay quietly for several seconds, Nathan's fingers running through the long strands of Peyton's hair, as he liked to do. "It's so soft," he said, for about the millionth time since they'd dated."

Peyton smiled, resting her hand on his muscular chest. "Hey Nate, have you talked to your dad at all?"

Nathan frowned at her question. "Could we maybe not talk about my dad right now?" he requested.

"I'm sorry," Peyton told him. "It's just, he stopped by this morning, looking for you." She went on to tell him all that had transpired, including his father's parting words.

Nathan sighed. "Looks like I'd better head home today then, huh?"

"Yeah, you probably should," she agreed.

"Not now though. Later," he said, planting a soft kiss to her lips and then closing his eyes.

"Do you want to talk about your suspension at all?"

"Not really."

"Ok, but just so you know, I'm gonna help you get your grades up, ok?"

What could he say? She really thought that was the reason. "Ok, thanks."

"You don't need to thank me. I know what basketball means to you," she replied. "And Nate?" she called again.

"Yeah?"

"You remember the concert's tomorrow night, right?"

"Yeah, thing is," he stated reluctantly, "if I go home today, I doubt my dad will let me go anywhere for a while. Do you think you can find someone else to go with you?"

"Oh yeah, sure," she answered solemnly.

"I'm sorry. I know I was supposed to take you…"

"No, it's ok. I understand. And I'm not mad." She did understand, even though she was disappointed.

"Good," Nathan replied, though he felt kind of relieved. He wasn't interested in that concert anyway and his dad had just given him the perfect excuse to get out of it. Then again, Nathan suspected what he'd get at home would be ten times worse than sitting through some lame ass concert for a couple of hours.

Peyton wasn't a stupid girl. She realized that Nathan didn't want to go to the concert in the first place, even though he'd bought her the tickets. But she'd been happy that he'd been willing to take her even though it wasn't his thing.

Now she would have to find someone else to go with, which was difficult because none of her friends were into that type of music – her loser rock, as Nathan liked to call it. She could go alone, but she really didn't want to. And there was only one person who'd expressed an interest in going to that concert. And he didn't have tickets.

She snuggled closer to Nathan, pondering her dilemma. However, she failed to come up with any conclusions since, seconds later, sleep overtook her. Her and Nathan would sleep the entire school day away in each other's arms.