For the Nights
Summary: Can what started as an act of rebellion turn into something more? Rogan AU.
Important Notice: This is a repost of Chapter One with modifications. Changes are mostly at the end. In order to comprehend what is happening in Chapter Two reread the ending to this chapter.
Chapter One
They all knew. Everyone knew. And no one bothered to be discreet about that fact. All eyes were locked on Rory Gilmore as she stepped through the halls that Monday morning. Heads turned to looked at her as the whispers started. "That's her, you know, the girl I was telling you about."
By the time she reached her locker Rory had already considered making a run for it three times. She should have known better than to be surprised that the big news had been leaked already. News such as this had a way of coming out especially when you didn't want it to. But, still, Rory remained surprised.
The school rarely paid any attention to her. She was a fly on the wall for the most part. She liked it that way, too. The only times she can remember any of her peers monitoring her movements had been when she was the New Girl starting school past the beginning of the semester in her sophomore year. The entire school had been in an uproar. It was expected and almost wanted that she would fail, the students could not understand why they had let her into the school in the first place. She was from Stars Hollow, Small Town USA, not exactly a member of the club. She was an outsider. Chilton Academy was anything but accepting of outsiders.
So, naturally, they watched her.
Quickly, however, the school realized she was anything but interesting. The only threat Rory Gilmore was capable was beating Paris Geller's top academic records. Rory had the privilege to watch Paris' face turn several shades of red when she beat her to answering a teacher's questions. An interesting side-affect that always brought the briefest of smiles to Rory's face.
By the end of her first month Rory was old news. Only Paris and her two best friends: Madeline, and Louise, remained interested in Rory. Paris seemed to live by the Godfather standard of "keep your friends close and your enemies closer". So, although it was Paris' goal to intimidate Rory into failing, or, when they were partnered together, to scare her into succeeding, she remained the closest semblance to a friend that Rory had at Chilton. For that fact alone Rory was almost grateful to Paris' paranoia. It guaranteed Rory at least several quasi-conversations a day, which filled her quota for human interaction.
With a lack of a social status at school Rory was left out of the spotlight. But now, with the revelation of the news, Rory was suddenly cast back into that spotlight now equipped with double the wattage.
This was Chilton Academy after all. The school lived and breathed gossip. A learned trait, Rory was positive, from their parents who found the practice especially useful at society functions when conversation was lacking. Gossip spread through the school like wildfire even when it was a mundane piece of information like Louise hooked up with the captain of the La Cross team, in the janitor's supply closet - again. So, it shouldn't have been that big of a surprise to Rory that such a juicy piece of gossip would already be all over the school, even before the first bell.
Every one was speaking abut it, although no one would come right out and ask Rory about it. It was as though they would rather use their small snippets of information to create elaborate stories that were far from the actual truth, and much more twisted. It was that, or they already knew everything - every last detail. She wasn't sure which she preferred. At least, she reasoned, the made up stories could later prove to be amusing.
No one spoke to her until lunch. Not that she tired to make conversation with anyone that day. Even the teachers avoided sending questions her way, not that she would have answered them. She'd been keeping her head down, staring at, but not seeing, her notes as she avoiding eye contact with her peers. She didn't want to attract any more attention to herself.
Then, as she sat, earphones plugged in, book in hand, picking at her lunch, the dreaded questions were posed. It came as track three skipped almost seamlessly into track four. Unluckily for Rory, but not wholly unexpected, the question came from one Paris Geller.
"So, is it true?"
Rory choked at the noise on what may have very well been her own spit, her fingers twitched enough for her book to fall to the floor, but she did not answer Paris' question, much to the dismay of Paris and her lackeys. Instead, she wiped her mouth with her sleeve, and slowly leaned over to pick up Brave New World as The Clash began to sing, "Should I Stay or Should I Go?". She flipped slowly to the right page in her book. She was about to feign reading when Paris cleared her throat and eyed her exasperatedly.
She had two options, deny it, or come right out and say, "Yes, its true." She was torn. She wanted, nay, she needed someone to share the burden, but she also wanted to keep it to herself and hope it would go away. Confirming the new would make it all the more real even more so than the small bruises on her arm where she had spent the weekend pinching herself. However, Paris, Louise and Madeline were some of the last people she would ever confide in. Her first choice would have been her mother, but talking to Lorelai was no longer an option.
Denying the fact was pointless. She knew everyone knew. She sighed and pulled out her earphones. Rory chose to respond to the girl's question with a combo of neither confirming, nor denying. "What have you heard?" Her voice cracked from disuse.
Louise and Madeline looked at Paris bewildered, they clearly thought she would deny it at all costs. Paris reached into her messenger bag and pulled out three newspapers: the Hartford Courant, New York Times, and the Boston Globe. All of which were folded over at the society pages, which Rory usually skipped over when she read the papers. Three articles were circled with red ink. Rory gasped, though she shouldn't have been surprised, as the uninspired headlines jumped out at her.
The news really was out.
"Heirs to Wed", "Sweethearts headed to the Altar", "Ready to say, 'I do". The articles were merely small announcements, but it seemed that the whole of the East Coast had seen them no matter their size.
It dawned, then, on Rory. This was real. It wasn't some twisted nightmare.
All she wanted to do was raise her head self-assuredly and look right into Paris Geller's eyes and tell her off - for being a bitch, for kicking her when she was down, and just because. When she did raise her head she saw Paris looking at her differently. The look was devoid of anger and harsh criticism. Instead, Paris' gaze was full of sympathy. In fact, they all looked at her the same. Madeline even leaned over and hugged her. Not knowing what to do, Rory just let the girl hug her. It was almost comforting.
Quietly, Louise's raspy voice announced with only the slightest hint of panic, "I think we need a change of venue." The four girls had attracted the attention of the other students in the cafeteria, obviously hoping to gain more insight into the ground shattering news.
Out in the corridor was better, quieter, and emptier. No one was looking at Rory here. Thanks to Paris' withering stare none of the students in the cafeteria had followed them. Rory couldn't help but be grateful to Paris' ability in inflicting fear in the bravest of people. She couldn't help but think there was an ulterior motive to the girls' helping her. They couldn't suddenly be compassionate, could they?
That was when she realized it wasn't just sympathy the girls held in their eyes, but pity as well.
Bitingly and uncharacteristically, she sneered, "Well, the secret is out. Confirmed, even. What are you going to do with this information, anyway?" She looked at Paris. "Put it in the Franklin?" To Madeline and Louise she added, "Perhaps you'll make an announcement over the loudspeaker. You know, to make sure the people who don't read the newspaper hear about this."
She was being childish. She knew that, but she couldn't bring herself to regret what she had said. Letting her anger get the better of her was oddly liberating. She felt calm.
The girls didn't even flinch during her tirade. Paris actually scoffed and Madeline just hugged her again. "It'll be all right," she promised.
"No," Rory sniffed, "it won't."
Her statement loomed in the air. No one contradicted her. None of them knew what was going to happen. Who knew if things would ever be all right again?
She had no where to go, no one to run to. Everyone and every odd were against her. She couldn't even depend on her father, wherever he was. Christopher hadn't even shown up to the funeral. His phone was disconnected as well; she couldn't even contact him.
The smallest of sobs escaped from her.
Paris looked around. "Lets get her outside before we get an audience."
With Madeline keeping Rory erect and moving, the girls began to lead her to the exits. Paris glared sharply at anyone who passed them in the halls. Rory felt numb. She couldn't even bring herself to care when Paris sent a scrawny freshmen boy scampering into a girls' bathroom.
They never made it outside.
As they turned the corner they were greeted by the sight a two figures. Even through her tears Rory could tell what it was.
Tristan Dugrey had a girl pushed up against a locker - her locker to be exact. Their mouths were working fervently against the other. Even from their distance it seemed to border on painful.
The boy was recently back from military school. Reasons for his return were still ambiguous. No one knew if he had been kicked out or let loose for good behaviour. He wasn't volunteering the information and no one sought to ask. Dugrey was definitely no the same boy who had been sent to military school for prankster disobedience. He was changed and not in the good way.
He was no longer the misguided youthful prankster from her sophomore year. No longer was Dugrey suspended every other week for a badly executed prank, instead the boy just cut school for days at a time. Military school had not reformed Tristan Dugrey. The only improvement Rory could see was he now carried a perfect posture. Since his shocking return, Rory had not once seen the boy slouch even when he sat in the few classes he attended. His back was always perfectly straight. The military education did nothing to improve his behaviour either. He was now cold, distant, and downright mean. Rory had heard whispers that he was turing into a carbon copy of his father, which Rory now having met Mr Dugrey thoroughly believed. He was his father's son.
Dugrey seemed to believe he was superior to everyone else in the school. Not in the annoying cocky teenage boy way. He seemed to believe he was God's gift to Hartford society. He had a certain disregard for any rules the school had. When he broke one, which was much too often, he didn't care. He disrespected the teachers by referring to them by only their last names. When they spoke to him, he put them down, or completely ignored them; he'd just walk away. His lack of respect for authority figures was caused, the school suspected, from the year of being controlled by military commanders. Now Dugrey was free to disregard the teachers with the only repercussion being a three-day suspension.
Even Dugrey's behaviour with girls had changed dramatically. While he had been with many girls before his exile, his treatment of them had never been so bad. He used to, Rory learned from countless girls, take his time to woo and seduce the girl. Now he was with several girls a day without the pretense of buying them dinner before hand. When he was done with them he would cast them aside and pick up the next one. Rory couldn't believe girls still sought him out after what they all saw him to do to girl after girl. Rory had seen more than one girl sobbing once he was on to the next girl.
But here, once again, in plain sight, she was witnessing yet another girl - a girl who had been through his more than once with this boy - let herself be treated as some sort of toy for Dugrey to play with until a new and more attractive toy came into his possession.
"Maybe he doesn't know yet," Madeline naively suggested as she stared in awe . Rory merely raised an eyebrow at her. She had to work hard to contain the scoff that threatened to escape. Madeline was wrong. Tristan Dugrey was very well aware, after all, he was going to marry her the week after graduation.
She had learned of this news on the Friday at what Rory had assumed was just another stuffy dinner party at her grandparents' house. She'd been wrong - so very wrong. Though she should have known better.
A few hours before dinner her grandmother had approached her and demanded that Rory stayed on her best behaviour, and pointedly suggested Rory wear her dark blue dress - it would bring out her eyes. Right then Rory should have known; she should have been on her guard. It was only later that night that Rory recalled a scheming glint in her grandmother's eyes.
Dinner had been a quiet, awkward affair. The only conversations that took place had to do with the headlines from the three middle sections of the New York Times her grandmother's bible in these situations.
The announcement came immediately after dinner once the party moved into the living room for after dinner drinks. Rory and Dugrey were given cokes. Rory watched the condensation run down the side of the glass. Her grandfather and Mr Dugrey never took their seats. They stood near the fire place looking serious. Richard straightened his bow tie and assumed a stance that Rory recognized as his business posture. At several times during the deliverance of the speech Rory expected them to pull out charts and spreadsheets as proof that this was best.
"As I mentioned to you earlier, Tristan," Allen Dugrey began, "we have an important announcement to make tonight."
Sitting much too close to her for her liking, Dugrey's face had a mildly curious expression as he peered at his father. She knew he was barely listening, though, as a barely noticeable smirk appeared when his leg bumped against hers once more. He was obviously not troubled by the fact that he had just finished having dinner at a house that had never once mentioned his family before that night, not even in passing and were about to share news that involved them both.
"Your mother and i have thought long and hard about your future, boy. We were at a loss as to what to do with you, but now, with the help of Richard and Emily we have come up with a worthwhile plan," Mr Dugrey continued.
Richard cleared his throat quietly and spoke in the soft voice that he had adopted a month earlier when speaking to her. "Rory, my dear girl, understand that we aren't doing this to hurt you."
Weren't they?
"You'll understand one day, Rory. This is all for the best - to secure your future and Tristan's," Emily added.
Rory didn't believe them, but before she could ask Mr Dugrey began again. "Both of your pasts aren't particularly clean enough for this world. Things are expected of you, and Tristan you always fall short. You've been causing trouble for this family since you were a child, Tristan. You were always getting your hands dirty in one thing or another. You've crossed the line one too many times - a line, Tristan, that military school didn't make you see. There is only so much you can do that will be validated under the "boys will be boys" clause. Its time we face the fact that with your past behaviour it is very unlikely that you will be taken seriously as a lawyer unless changes are made now. Can you imagine a client ever trusting you, a delinquent, to represent them in a court of law? It's laughable even if you are a Dugrey."
Dugrey visibly cringed and Rory felt a small flicker of sympathy that was shortly lived.
"I thought military school was supposed to take care of that."
"It was meant to. But even the best laid plans backfire. A year down in North Carolina at the best military school money could buy and you come back no better than when you left. In fact, it appears your behaviour has worsened."
"Rory," Mr Dugrey continued, "is from a very respectable family. She will help restore your reputation and her family's. A good marriage will erase those unfortunate circumstances surrounding her birth."
Rory flinched this time. Those circumstances, Rory knew, meant her unwed teenage mother.
"This marriage is going to fix all this," Richard spoke softly, surely waiting for Rory to fly off the handle. "It's for the best. Now, Allen and I have pounded out a few things - property agreements, prenups - that sort of thing. We've come to a very fair agreement. I'm sure you both will be very pleased with the results."
Then Rory understood. She was being sold to erase her grandparents' shame.
Looking at Dugrey feel Summer up Rory knew she was seeing her future. Dugrey wasn't going to change into a monogamous man just because they were being forced to marry. Briefly she wondered if she would have affairs as well. Maybe she would keep seeing Dean after she was married. Or maybe she would become one of those women who hired those young and exotic pool boys only to take them as her lovers.
"Hey! Dugrey!" Paris hissed vehemently. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Paris had effectively startled the couple out of lusted bliss, if only for the moment. Summer sent Rory a look of gloating before gluing her lips back to Dugrey's. She pulled away with a wink and sauntered off down the hall evidently pleased with herself.
Dugrey just smirked, completely unaffected. "Did you enjoy the show?"
On a normal day her response would simply have been to roll her eyes at him and walk away. But things were different now. The smug air about him at that moment irritated however irritated Rory much more than his recent activities. She felt an intense desire to hit him. She had never hit anyone before, but something about this moment was making that act seem highly appealing. But she was on school property. Hitting her future husband would have to wait until later, so she settled for angrily hissing, "You're such an ass."
The venom in her voice didn't seem to daunt Dugrey. His smirk never left his face as he let out a wryly chuckle. "I expect that will be many people's conclusion once this little event gets out – just look at how everyone reacted to our impending marriage, darling. Imagine its only days after the announcement and the groom is already being unfaithful. The gossip mills will be working overtime today."
The smirk on his face said so many things. Above all, it said he wanted this news out. He wanted to hurt her. Rory couldn't help but wonder if he had been the leak to the papers.
She gasped and gave into her temptation. Dugrey caught her arm before she could reach his face. "Do not do that. Ever."
Something in his voice - it might have been the sudden coldness and anger or the authority he commanded - that had Rory struggling against his grip on her. She didn't trust him not to hurt her.
"I'm going to say this once, Mary. So listen up." He backed her into the metal of the lockers.
"Get your paws off her, Dugrey!" Paris hissed.
Slowly Dugrey turned his head to look at the girl. Rory couldn't see his face but whatever his expression was it scared Paris. "Stay out of this Geller."
The usually brave Paris Geller took a step back and said no more.
Realizing Rory was on her own with this confrontation she tried her hardest to conceal her fear as she looked from her captured wrist to her captor. "You can't touch me like this."
She knew it was a fruitless attempt at bravery. He could do what he waned; after all, there was no one in the hallway besides the three girls who seemed too frightened to come to her aid.
"No?" He seemed to ponder her words for a moment before a leer appeared on his face. "How would you prefer I touch you? Like this?"
Rory couldn't even make a sound of protest. She was too in shock. Tristan's hand released her wrist and within seconds he had both his hands on her. One hand moved to her thigh that was thankfully covered with a layer of nylon. The other hand went to rest directly under her breast.
"Is this better?"
It wasn't. She much preferred the pain that came from him crushing her wrist. This, what he was doing now, was making her feel dirty and used. She was just a toy to him and that's all she would ever be. This though, oddly didn't make her feel sad or unworthy as it may have coming from someone else, but angry.
"I'd prefer it if you didn't touch me at all. Ever."
"Impossible, babe, we're going to be married," he smiled sinisterly. "I almost can't wait for the big night, can you? I'll finally be able to stake my claim in you. I'll be able to take the Mary in any way, shape, or form and nothing will ever stop me. All this power I will have over you once you say 'I do'."
Rory felt uneasy. She didn't like the sound of that at all. In fact it sounded like he was going to rape her on their wedding night as well as any other time he ever wanted to sleep with her.
She didn't voice her concern. However, she did roll her eyes. "How romantic. Are those your vows?"
"You joke, Mary, but just know that your life and body now are mine. They belong to me."
Affronted, Rory cried out vehemently, "No they don't! I do not and will not ever belong to you as long as I live!"
He laughed again.
"That prenup you signed says otherwise."
Rory's eyes widened. She felt the same sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach as she had felt when she had been forced, crying, to sign on the dotted line. She had signed her life away to the devil incarnate.
He leaned back into her. "I can't wait to collect my prize: I will de-Mary the Mary. And I'll savour every moment of it."
His fingers traced the opening of her shirt.
"You'll never touch me Tristan Dugrey let alone be the first!"
Paris seemed to come back to life, then. She grabbed Rory by the shoulders and steered her down the hall, not before giving Dugrey a look that could kill.
Rory felt panic. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't do much of anything. She kept mumbling. "Never. I won't let him. He can't be the first. Never."
Louise knelt next to her, and in a move Rory didn't know her aloof character could allow, hugged her. "I'll think of something," she promised.
Tuesday morning started ominously. Louise was waiting for her at her locker.
"This is all I can come up with." Louise handed her a crumpled piece a paper and assured her it was self-explanatory.
She waited all day, until she was alone in her room before she opened it.
Hell no.