Acts of Absolution

Disclaimer: C O N T R O L: It's not mine. Props to Amy Sherman-Palladino for giving me excellent materials to work with.

SummeryTagline: This is not a romance fanfiction, but a story of an ending that began the first time they ever saw each other.

Spoilers: Anything up to the end of Season 5

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To an outside eye, the house was simply a slightly run-down affair; leaves clogged
the gutters, shutters creaked their protest as the late November wind shivered
them on their rickety hinges, shingles lay strewn about on the lawn intermingled
with dunes of leaves overlaid by branches tossed here and here, products, no doubt,
of the last big storm to hit the area. To an outside eye, this house was just one of
many decaying in a quite corner of Connecticut (many would say, of course, that
the entirety of Connecticut was the quiet corner).

She was not an outside eye. She had lived, breathed, laughed and cried here;
she had spent many of the best years of her childhood and the entirety of her teens
here, grew up here, and given away her innocence here. Rory Gilmore was home,
if only for a little while.

As she entered, the smell of must was unmistakable. Wind rose once again, rushing in
from behind her, through the open front door, running its cold fingers through her hair,
and stirring the dust into jaunty whirlwinds highlighted by the late afternoon sun, as if
they were celebrating the return of at least one of the occupants of the house. Sheets
fluttered from their positions covering the furniture in the room as one last gust made
it through the doorway before she shut it tight.

The condition of the house did not surprise her consciously (though in the back of her
mind, she would always expect to see it as it was, full of warmth, life and comfort,
containing those who had always protect her from the world) for it had been years
since anyone had actually lived in it. Her mother and Luke had moved into the Twickham
house long ago, with the birth of their first child together; her little half sister. Of course,
the name "Lorelei" had quickly been vetoed upon hearing the baby's gender and an hour
long argument ensued before it was decided to name the soon to be little girl Emily
(around that time, a running joke appeared about how the wee one might offer redemption
to the name).

She was slowly propelled out of the front door room, past the living room where she had
spent so many hours on that couch with her mother analyzing, heckling, or sometimes even
watching almost anything and everything that could be shown on a TV; past the stairs; past
the kitchen, all the while deep in her own musings.

The sound of a step behind her sent her whirling around, three steps into her old room.

"Rory."

("What am I doing here Rory?")

"What…?"

("You're picking me up.")

" 'What am I doing here', Rory?"

("I don't belong here, not anymore, do I...?")

("De)an?"

("You) look good."

It was an unconscious parody of the last time they truly communicated to each other. She had
never quite forgotten the look in his eye; knowing, yet tired and poignant, when the last throws
of their relationship had destroyed even the possibility of anything after. Nor he, when he saw
almost relief behind hers.

"What are you doing here Dean?"

"I believe you've already tried to ask me that."

"And?"

"I'm moving back to Stars Hallow."

The last Rory had heard of him Dean had left town, had run away, some said, from the events
that had run roughshod over their lives in the waning half of 2004. She had never been told
where he had gone, and she'd never asked.

"So? That doesn't explain why you're here, in MY house."

"You've been away a long time Ror…"

She interrupts him, "Yeah, well so have you, longer even!"

"HEY, you lost the right to use that tone with me when you stopped being my girlfriend, and
that was a hell of a lot longer."

And with that, the last 15 years dropped away, bringing back emotions that they had long ago
assumed were laid to rest.

"You dumped ME Dean!" she snarled at him, dredging up all the self righteousness she
could bring to bare against him.

"You didn't love me Rory."

"You were my FIRST!"

"I was safe; convenient," he replied coldly.

Her face crinkled, "but… I told you I loved you…"

"In the beginning maybe, but not in the end; not with Tristan, Jess or Logan in the way. In the
end, I was a habit, if anything."

She chokes back a sob and lifts a shaking hand over her mouth while tears worked their way
down her face. At first, the tears fell from the cruelty of his words, a cruelty that she had never
seen before; but as the seconds ticked forward her mind began sifting through the memories of
days almost two decades past.

It had been love in the beginning, of that she was sure. Even when she could not answer him in
the junkyard, it had been love and she had eventually told him. Something happened though;
maybe Jess had started it, maybe it began before, but the deeper she dived into her memories,
the more she became aware of how the love had somehow disappeared. Something else
had replaced it, a caring, a comfort; a knowing that this would always be there for her. But for the love…

She realized.

And when her clear blue eyes could finally meet his again, they were filled with tears that stemmed
from knowing and saw the same knowledge reflected back to them by their opposite number.
Of course he had known; he had known and it'd torn him apart day by day, every time she had
smiled at him, kissed him, or made love to him. He had loved her though, had loved her even
after he knew that she was not his and that he could never keep her.

Only then did he finally move towards her, only then did she rest her head on his chest as he
embraced her, and cried into him; her tears quickly soaking the front of his sweater.

"I'm sorry Dean… so, so sorry…"

Rory's voice is muffled by his chest, but Dean hears and simply holds her to him tighter; soothing
noises issuing from his lips. Minutes pass as they stand there, locked together in mutual grief for
what had gone on before. Finally, as her tears slow to a trickle, she looks up into his eyes again
and sees something familiar; if lost for years. She is sure the same look is reflected in her own gaze.

Their kiss surprises neither her nor him, and for a moment, history jumps its track; jumps to a
place where she had kept on loving him while Tristan, Jess and Logan were simply blips on her
radar screen. They celebrate their wedding day with that kiss and in the rising heat of her room,
they celebrate their wedding night and years of nights that follow.

For hours, the house regained its warmth and personality. Little feet can be heard coming
up and down the stairs, while cries of "Mommy" and "Daddy" echo the halls. Holiday dinners
are eaten, presents enjoyed; 3 generations walk through the kitchen, sometimes arguing,
sometimes laughing, and a little girl who has her mother's bright blue eyes and her father's
smile looks up and laughs in a pilgrim costume while dancing to music only she can hear.

But the hours pass, and the warmth fades as history resettles on its former path; and a little
girl named Lorelei slowly disappears from view. Soon all that is left are two bodies entwined
on a dusty single bed with only their coats to cover them and the last rays of a setting sun
to warm them.

Her head lays tucked below his chin with his arms embracing her; his fingers tracing
languid circles on her back. Ever so slowly her lips begin to move and words tumble
out softly.

"Who can take a sunrise, and sprinkle it with dew, and cover it in chocolate
and a miracle or two, the candy man… oh the candy man can…"

He smiles down at her and gives her a squeeze.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm so(rry that I didn't love you, I'm sorry that I hurt you, I'm sorry that it
couldn't work, I wish it could have, I'm so)rry."

"It's ok Rory, it's forgiven."

She snuggles deeper into his embrace, her breath cooling his skin as she sings softly again.

"Who can take tomorrow and dip it in a dream? Separate the sorrow and collect
up all the cream… the candy man… oh the candy… man… can…"

The words trail off, and soon only the sounds of their breathing flutter through the night.

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Leaves crunched underfoot; her heels click on concrete, as she walked away from the
house of her childhood. Grey morning light filters down and an early cold November
wind blew its way through the trees, silencing even the hardiest bird.

She reviewed her plans for the day. She would visit with her mother, Luke and her
half-siblings for the week and walk the streets of the never changing town, visiting with
old friends. Seeing Sookie and Lane, Miss Patty and Babette, even meeting Taylor
and Kirk would be enjoyable. Then she would leave again.

Rory reached her car before she turned back and faced the house. They both knew that
they would never be together, that this chapter of their history was finally closed. She had
offered him her sorrow and, for a few hours, everything that could be shared. In return,
he had offered her absolution and she had accepted it.

Dean was met by the quiet sound of a Hydrogen Fuel Cell car start up as he exited the house
and saw her tail lights moving away from him slowly; she did not glance back.

Yesterday is a wrinkle on your forehead
Yesterday is a promise that you've broken
Don't close your eyes, don't close your eyes
This is your life and today is all you've got now
Yeah, and today is all you'll ever have
Don't close your eyes
Don't close your eyes

This is your life, are you who you want to be
This is your life, are you who you want to be
This is your life, is it everything you dreamed that it would be
When the world was younger and you had everything to lose.

- Switchfoot: This Is Your Life

Fini.

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Author's Notes: Like I said, this was not a love story and if you ignored my warning and came in here looking for one, I hope you were still pleasantly surprised. What can I say? Writers love feedback, ;) The inspiration for this story hit me after I had finished shot-gunning the series up to the end of Season 5 in less than 3 months.

Story Stats: Started - August 17, 2005, 1:59:01 AM

Finished - August 18, 2005, 3:37:05 AM

Pre-read – August 22, 2005, 1:02:46 AM

Final copy – August 22, 2005, 11:04:37 PM

Bloopers Finished: August 22, 2005, 11:30:25 PM

Which makes it the story that has taken me the shortest amount of time to complete EVER. Sure it was only 5 pages and around 1700 words, but dragging motivation out of my unruly head is a time consuming and painful process so give me a break:p If you want the bloopers, simply e-mail me. If I get enough responses, I'll just add them on to the end of the story.

Edit: Wow... the editing of this would make a sane man cry.