THINGS YOU NEVER KNEW.

CHAPTER 1

Dean sat on his bed. All kinds of dangerous thoughts were running through his head. Rory was leaving him. He could feel it in his chest every time he closed his eyes and opened his mind to the reality of her behaviour. He'd been shutting it out, ignoring it, because the truth was he'd never felt so lucky as he had being with Rory and the guilt of not being good enough for her had begun to convince him that he was lucky enough just to have had her attention for at least a little while. It wasn't just Rory. His mom and dad had been arguing a lot lately and he'd been having trouble shielding Clara from it and finding time to see Rory. He knew he should talk to her about it, but with his latest realisations he'd felt too guilty to say anything.

This is how it always was. Whenever something went wrong, he knew it was his fault. He even felt like it was his fault his parents were having such a hard time. If he'd been a better son – was doing better at school, wasn't spending so much time away from home... His mind was full of one guilty thought after another, and he wasn't sure how he was going to handle them. Clara didn't know that they were only half sister and brother, that his mother had re-married to his step-father before she was born. Dean didn't really want her to find out either, because then she might be curious about his real father, and he didn't ever want to think about him again.

'You'd only end up being jealous and treating her like Dad treated Mom... it's better off this way...'

He'd tried his best to be nothing like his real father. He hadn't seen him since he was six years old, but he could still remember the way he treated his mother. He'd tried to make sure he was never like him with Rory. He'd never felt the urge to hurt her, but even sex, which his friends often joked with him about, had become an issue. It wasn't that it was an issue because he wanted it, but that he didn't want it. He knew he loved Rory and yet he just couldn't imagine being with her in that intimate way. This was also playing with his already sensitive mind and he realised that this was how it was always going to be. Whenever anything bad happened to him, he'd react with guilty sensitivity and that awful pain just above his stomach that wouldn't go away for days at a time. 'Maybe' he thought, 'I should see a therapist'.

Clara was staying at a friend's house for the weekend and Dean was watching television in the living room. His mother stood at the doorway and had been watching him for a little while.

It was a Friday night and Rory was working on her application essay for Harvard. He was thinking about what was going to happen when Rory went off to Harvard and how much he'd miss her. 'You better get used to life without Rory now...' he told himself and turned the volume up on the episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S that was already blaring out from the TV.

"You used to love this show"

He turned his head, startled by his mothers seemingly sudden presence and gave her a weak smile.

"Sometimes I think it would be nice if life were as simple and obvious" he sighs.

"I guess when you're a kid they are..."

"I suppose" he mumbles and turns back to the TV.

"I've noticed you... you've not quite, well you've not been yourself for a while now. Care to tell me what's troubling you?" she ventured, sitting beside him and tucking a strand of his limp brown hair behind an ear.

He stood and moved towards the kitchen. "It's nothing.".

He finds himself automatically taking out two glasses and a bottle of beer. "Do you want one?" he asks, glancing over to make sure she knows what he means.

"Yeah sweetie, you know me all too well... "

"So, where's Dad tonight?"

"Oh, he's out with some friends. He's under a lot of pressure at work lately... actually i am too... How's your job at Dosey's going?"

"Mom, I quit a few months ago... I'm working at a book store now... trying to keep up with Rory" he smiled. "I thought I told you?"

The smile faded as he thought about how pathetically desperate he sounded. But it didn't feel like that... it felt like, with every book he read, he felt more important, more confident, more intelligent, but most of all more like he deserved Rory.

"Oh yes, she is quite the bookworm isn't she..." she kind of shouted back at him.

He could tell she was already a little tipsy. Not the kind of tipsy anyone else would notice, but the kind of tipsy only he would. Right now he'd do anything to take her mind off of the subjects she so obviously wanted to bring up.

"You know, giving me a drink won't shut me up... I still wanna know what's up with my baby boy" his mother states as he sits beside her again.

"Mum, you don't want to know okay..."

"Don't tell me what I do and don't want to know Dean.. I know perfectly well I don't like it when you act all superior and controlling" she took on a more serious facial expression as she spoke.

Dean opened his mouth to say something in his defence, but just closed his lips together again.

"I'm sorry. It's the drink... one day I'll stop... one day, when I'm good and ready..." she trailed off as she took a sip of the beer.

Dean shook his head at the irony of his mother's actions and sighed again "I know Mom..."

"So is it Rory?" She began again, drinking from her glass rapidly.

Dean looked away from his alcoholic of a mother in an attempt to shield the emotion in his glazed over eyes.

"So, it is. It's Rory."

He suddenly felt a hand wrap around his chin and turn his face back to hers. She stared at him for a long time, before she spoke.

"What did you do this time?" she asked

The tear dropped from the rim of his left eye and he caught it with his sleeve. "Why do you always make everything my fault..."

"Dean... I just don't want you to end up like him..." she grabbed what was left of the bottle of beer and put it to her lips, taking a gulp.

"Mom, I'm nothing like him!" Dean cried, unable to help the frustration that was evident in his now cracking voice. "I don't think I'm good enough for her okay! I enjoy spending time with her, I feel a little smarter every time we have a conversation, but it's just... it's just"

"It's just what? You've been having bad thoughts haven't you...involving Rory..."

"No!" he states, "Never..." but the upset look in his eyes was quickly mistaken by his drunk mother for guilt.

"Do you want to hurt her like he hurt me...?!" she screamed suddenly, causing Dean to jump back and fall to the floor.

He stood quickly and faced her in-front of the TV. "Why do you always have to make everything about you!" he shouted back.

They stare at each-other for a long time. Dean can tell his mother is angry. She does this when she'd really angry. She stops talking for a long time and just stares at him. It's always made him rather uncomfortable really.

"Is anyone here? I left my Wallet on the kitchen..." Dean's Step-Dad, Jim enters the room. "What's going on here? Am I missing something?" He asks looking from Dean to his mother in suspicious confusion.

Dean rolls his eyes. "No. Everything is fine. We just..."

"It's not fine." His mother interrupted, "Dean's been having problems with his girlfriend"

"Mom!" he shot back. "I swear to God..."

"Don't talk to your mother in that tone Dean"

"Yeah well, she's the one with the drinking problem, not me..."

"Have you been drinking?" Jim turns to her.

"No... she's been pouring that down my throat" Dean said sarcastically while nodding his head towards the beer bottle still lying in her hand.

"You said you'd..." her husband begins.

"Look" she interrupts him as well, "...the reason I've been drinking... I well, I think Dean is becoming like his father.. I think he's been hurting Rory... and I'm scared of him... I'm scared he'll turn..." she began to cry.

Deans step-father looks up at him, unsure of who to believe. "Is this true Dean?"

"I, I can't believe this. I can't believe my own family!" he states in disbelief.

"Dean, is what your mother saying true?!" he says, raising his voice a little more.

"You don't even love me..." his wife mumbled between sobs. "You don't believe in me anymore... you don't even believe what I say..."

His step-father put a hand to his head and rubs his forehead with his fingers. "Why tonight Dean? I just wanted one night...I think you better leave for a while, just until she's sobered up..."

"Leave? This is my house... I've got nowhere to go..." Dean pleaded with his already swelling up eyes.

"What about Rory?" his father suggested

"Don't you care about what he's doing to her..." his mother still sat sobbing.

Dean rolled his eyes again and left the room, grabbing his jacket from a chair near the door. "She needs some serious help." He shouted back as he left. If anyone needed therapy most in his family, it certainly wasn't him.

He walked the cool streets of Stars Hollow wondering how long he should wait before he returned home. He scorned himself for not noticing how under the influence his mother had actually been and went over all of the ways he could have possibly prevented the night's events from unfolding the way they did.

He rubbed his back where he'd hit the side of the coffee table as he fallen off the living-room couch. He hadn't been that scared of his mother in a very long time. It was almost like being a kid again. He wouldn't go back to that time in his life again for all the riches in the world, but he did really miss his Grandma Caroline. Though he felt safe enough with Jim, his step-father, and he'd had moments of clarity between his mother and him, none of the authoritative figures in his life had quite provided him with the love he felt from Grandma Caroline. The woman had been practically radiating with it and Dean still felt that little black hole in his chest which had opened up the day she had died. Maybe that was the feeling he got when he was upset... a longing for someone to help him through whatever it was he was going through.

He guessed it couldn't hurt to try. It couldn't hurt to tell Rory the truth, seeing as he was already going to lose her. He turned in the direction of the Gilmore residence and ran a shaky hand through his hair.

So there is the result of a rush of fanfiction passion and two hours of late night/early morning typing. I guess, you could review the story if you liked it. Tell me what you think could be improved...? maybe suggest something? All that kind of Jazz would very much be appreciated. Thanks for reading.

Regards,

~Lorelai Poulain