Title:
The Empty SpaceDisclaimer:
I do not own Gilmore Girls, the characters, or the WB. And if I didwould I be here writing fanfiction? ;)Dedication
: To the lovely reviewers at Stars-hollow.org who were so kind, helpful and sweet. Especially Lorena, Arianna, Jenz, Shannon, Kelly and stargazer. *hugs* I hope to see you around here for the revised version. :)And to Ali, for helping me out with formatting my story.
A/N:
This is my first GG fic, I apologize in advance for the poor characterization.If anything is similar (to anything), I assure you it's by coincidence. This was written between July '03-February '04. Title was not at all inspired by any of the songs with similar titles. ;) ~ Stephanie
Please R&R.
Chapter One:
The WallThe sunlight burned through his sheets, waking him up instantly to a bright, Monday morning. He groaned, as he rolled over the tangled white sheets. 7:15 AM. He buried his head in his hands, groaning again. He stumbled out of bed, closing the blinds to hide the sunshine.
'Does this damn sunlight ever go away' he thought to himself.
A strong force, suddenly pulled at him. It came out of the mist, as if it had been waiting for the perfect moment. It began like a bad dream, one that you allowed yourself to get pulled into… because you had to know the ending. Even if the ending is already given away. He just couldn't fight it.
The memories came to life; voices and scenes he had desperately tried to remove of his mind, rapidly returned.
Rory. The one-syllable name repeated in his head, automatically making his head ache. He fainted back on his bed, sinking himself into known territory, trying to think about something else. Something other than her. But the more he tried to deny her--the more real she became.
Time seemed to tick backward slowly, his life in reverse. He could see the faint outline of his figure calling Rory, clearly hearing the words that were to haunt him for years.
'I think I may have loved you…' The ancient feeling of his heart tugging, begging him to say something… apologize… let her know everything … anything buried in his chest. But he couldn't find the courage to tell her, not after everything. Not after all the damage he had done.
He watched the scene on the bus; telling her he couldn't go to prom, his eyes avoiding hers, knowing the emotion in her eyes. A painful memory he saw next, watching them kiss in the empty bedroom at Kyle's party. It was, quite possibly, one of the worst nights of his life. His insecurity and fear had teamed up and taken over. He couldn't tell her about his not graduating high school, the prom… or anything, for that matter. He couldn't bear to see the disappointment that was sure to cloud over her eyes. He couldn't let her down.
But he did anyway. Not intentionally, not exactly by accident… but by his own choices. Funny, how life works out that way.
The scenes changed from the irritable night he met her grandmother, to their first kiss as a couple, to the twenty-four hour dance marathon. With every scene, came a different emotion. He shook his head, desperately trying to stop this timeline going any farther back. Because he knew what he would see; he knew what would happen … he knew what it could do him.
He saw their first kiss; the blue of her dress, the greens of their surroundings, and the black of his clothes blended together like a big blur. Everything that came before was hazy, completely blurry. He was stuck in this moment. Images collided with another, and voices were mixed all together so that it was impossible to understand. He was holding on to the thought, that if she had never given in … maybe … he would have learned to let go. Maybe he wouldn't have given in as well.
"Jess?" a voice called. "Jess, sweetie, come down. You're going to be late for work!"
His eyes shot opened as sweat tricked down his forehead. He wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, trying to regain his breath. As he slowly began to rise, he began to feel lightheaded. He sat upright on his bed, trying to keep his cool. 'She's gone, Jess. There's no need to be frightened of her, or anything that revolves around her,' he thought.
(If he told himself that enough, maybe he would forget the real problem.)
The voice called again, this time, irritation in her voice. He tried to move; but there he was, paralyzed with the image of Rory Gilmore planted in his mind.
The faint sound of footsteps could be heard, nearing closer to the door. The doorknob turned without the slightest squeak, revealing a full dressed woman in the doorway. She was a slender woman, elegant in her ways. Her wavy brunette hair came past her shoulders, and her brown eyes gleamed in the light.
He didn't turn to look at her; instead, he found himself staring at the empty space in the wall. He continued to be mesmerized as the woman stepped closer to him. Nothing else existed except the empty space in the wall. His only desire was to fill it with something meaningful, unlike all the pieces on the wall. He fell, into one stupor to the next.
"Jess? You aren't even dressed yet," she said quietly. No response was uttered from his lips. "You're sweating," she said kneeling in front of him, her hand on his forehead. She pressed her hand to his chest, feeling the beat of his heart. "And out of breath," she added.
She looked at him with concern; her lips quivered. "What are you looking at, Jess? What's wrong?" She turned her head so that she too, was looking at the empty space.
Finally, he spoke. "Why isn't there anything filled in that space?" His voice was shaken and odd.
She turned back to look at him, "Does there have to be something there?"
He shook his head, turning his head away from the wall. "No, it's just, all the other walls in this room are completely filled, and this wall, has an empty space." His words were spoken through a light whisper, and as he spoke, the words hit hard.
She shrugged. "Maybe there just isn't anything to fill that space." She looked at him for a response, but received nothing but an emotionless face. "Stay home today, alright? I'll bring up your breakfast." She kissed him on the cheek, and then left to fetch his breakfast.
"Sure, Kate. I'll stay home," he whispered. But she was gone; leaving him with the voices inside his head, and the empty space in the wall.
He sat on his bed for another minute or two, before getting up to brush his teeth, and wash his face. The voices repeated in his head, letting a realization he may have known all along sink in. After seven years of living in California, putting his life together, and finally having… a life, it had all been a joke. A mistake. A lie. The voices were evidence of that.
'I think I may have loved you …Maybe there just isn't anything to fill that space...'
