Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls nor do I own the characters, I am just playing with them.
Summary: Tristan DuGrey reflects back on his life and his unlikely hero.
Author Note: Okay, so this is just a little OneShot to get over a little writer's block for my other story and it worked. yay. It is kind of sad and I hope it makes sense. I think it is probably out of character for Tristan, but he grew up so I think it is understandable. There isn't really a time frame, just sometime in the future.
-A Hero-
A hero is someone who saves somebody, right? People say I am a hero because I save lives. I'm a doctor and a damn good one at that. I make it a rule not to let people die. I know it is an unrealistic rule but it motivates me to try my hardest. People don't know this but I had a hero. She saved me without even knowing it. She was a very unlikely hero too.
She went to my high school. She was different from everybody else. Some would call her odd. I know I did. She wasn't worried about making friends or being popular, in fact I think she had more enemies than friends at the school. Her toughest question actually related to school, it wasn't what to wear to the next party. She was so innocent. Not that there weren't innocent girls at our school, there were, but just none like her. She also read everywhere she went. If you saw a girl with her nose in a book you knew it was Rory Gilmore.
I teased her. I'm not too sure why, I might of had a crush on her. I'm surprised she took all the crap I gave her. She did blow up at me once, maybe twice. She put me in my place, which needed to be done. I tried to steer clear from her for awhile but that wasn't really possible. She had something about her that just made you want to be next to her. Just to soak up her, well genuineness. Something I no longer had.
She had what seemed like the perfect life. She had a mother who actually cared for her, the perfect relationship with her boyfriend, and a town full of people that loved her. It was nauseating how perfect she actually was. I'll admit I was jealous. Who wouldn't be? My family cared more about their money than their own kids. I guess you could say I come from a prominent and wealthy family in Hartford. When people hear the name DuGrey they automatically think money and lots of it. Not being loved made me the person I was in high school. Sure I was popular, the girls thought I was a god and the guys wanted to be me. Before I met her I thought that is all I wanted and needed. I was wrong.
She opened my eyes to a world that was caring, not superficial like the one I knew. I started wanting what she had. I just couldn't get it. It's funny, I had everything money could buy but money couldn't buy the one thing I needed. What I needed was a family that loved me. Without love there is only emptiness. Emptiness causes you to search for something, anything to fill it but what you find only causes more feelings of worthlessness. I had no success in trying to fill that void. No matter how hard I tried to fill the emptiness it seemed as though nothing could quench what I needed, everything around me was like a dried up well.
I knew my parents wouldn't change. They learned their parenting skills from their parents. There was no love in our family. I wanted to be liberated so I acted the only way I knew how, I rebelled. I did random shit like taking apart a car and putting it back together in the school hallway. I thought it was funny but the headmaster did not. When I started getting suspended my dad and I had a little talk. He said something along the lines of I was dragging the DuGrey name in the dirt and I needed to stop or else. Hearing him say that only made me want to act out more.
I remember going to her town for a school project or something. She tried to talk sense into me. She was the only one who noticed there was something going on with me. She was the only one of my schoolmates who confronted me about it. Not even my close 'friends' asked me what was going on. That shocked me. She cared about everyone, even people she didn't particularly like, like me. She didn't know the reason I was rebelling was because of her. I wanted her life and I couldn't have it if I acted like everything was fine or if I acted like my old self. That would just make things worse.
Even with the talk she gave me I had already made up my mind. At the time I don't think I knew what I was doing would set me free but I sure felt free doing what I was doing. A rebel without a cause some people might say. But I had a reason. If it wasn't breaking into a safe it would have been something else. Why is it that people feel more alive when they are doing something illegal? I have always wondered that because it is true. You feel like nothing and no one can stop you. You are invincible. That all changes once you get caught though.
That last stunt with the safe got me sent to Military School. Best thing I ever did. I may not have thought that at the time, but I definitely believe it now. During my time in North Carolina I continued to reevaluate my life. I came to the realization that I didn't want shiny cars, big houses, and random girls. Those things didn't make me happy, they actually did quite the opposite. They made me depressed. They also reminded me of what I didn't have. I wanted a family who instead of just tolerated actually loved. Hell, I didn't want a Porsche I wanted to drive a Chevy.
After high school I went to UCLA. I was pre-med. My father thought I did this to spite him. That wasn't it though. I wanted the opportunity to save lives. To give people second chances at life like she gave me. I wouldn't let my father pay for my school. I had saved my money and wanted to pay for my own education. I didn't want to rely on something that wasn't real. I liked the feeling of being independent. Working hard for what I wanted, not just having it handed to me. I had officially separated myself from my family and all they stood for. It's harsh, but true, I didn't want to go back to living like a king. Most people would die to be in my position, heir to the DuGrey fortune. And here I was giving it all up because I got a glimpse of a better life.
When I went to medical school I met my wife. She didn't come from a rich family like mine. She was just your average girl. I have two kids now. Madison is four and Ali is two. They grow up so fast. I can't imagine my life without them. I am back at Hartford working at Saint Francis hospital. We live in a nice neighborhood. My house has four bedrooms, not ten. I don't drive a fancy car, I drive a hybrid. I have managed to have good relations with my parents. Still not perfect, but in their own way I think my parents learned to love. Even with the semi-good relations with my parents I don't let myself get sucked back into their way of life. I don't go to all their high society parties or go to the country club. I don't want my children to have the type of life I had. I guess you could say I want them to live a normal life.
Right now I am scrubbing-in to go into the OR. There was a woman who was hit by a car when she was crossing the street. Damn drunk drivers. And I refuse to let them take another innocent life. The nurse lets me know the situation. The woman's name is Lorelai Leigh Gilmore. She has internal bleeding, broken ribs, broken leg, and the list goes on. I curse the driver again. When I go in there I will do everything I can to save her. I can't let her die.
We are in the OR for three hours. It seemed longer. It always seems longer when you are trying desperately to save someone's life. Especially when you are trying to save the person who saved you. I tried so hard to not let her die her but there was no hope. As much as I wanted to I couldn't play God. Lorelai Leigh Gilmore, time of death 11:43 PM. It's ironic, I tried my hardest to save her but couldn't while she didn't even know she was saving me. The worst part is I never got the chance to thank her. To tell her how I am a better person because of her. To thank her for seeing through all my crap and to thank her for showing me what a family should be like, but most of all thank her for saving me from a life that would not have been a life but a desolate tract.
The part about my job that I hate is informing the family. It's never easy letting someone know their loved one is no longer living and it is even harder when you knew the deceased. In the waiting room I see a huddle of people. There is a woman who looks just like Rory, it must be her mother. They see me make my way toward them and a man jumps up from his seat. His blonde hair is tousled, his eyes are bloodshot and filled with fear and hope. He introduces himself, the husband. I let him know that his wife is now dead. Hope disappears from his eyes and pain takes its place. There is no way of gently putting it. You tell them what was wrong and that you tried everything in your power to save her. Then you give them your condolences. But all the 'I'm so sorrys' in the world don't stop the hurt they now feel though.
I watch as they all break down. I am not sure why I didn't turn away. It was like a train-wreck, you know you shouldn't look but you just can't help it. I feel like I need to say something but I don't really know what. Her mom comes over to me and thanks me for trying. I didn't know what to say to her. She starts telling me about Rory. How she was when she was a little girl and what type of woman she grew up to be. I guess it made her feel better. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea or not to let her know that I went to school with Rory but I told her anyway. I also told her how she saved me. When I finished she gave me a weak smile then she hugged me and thanked me again.
When I go home I will hug my wife and my daughters and tell them I love them. My job makes me feel more and more blessed to have them. I don't take them for granted like my parents did to each other and me. I am thankful for knowing Rory Gilmore. If I never met her who knows what my life would have been like. I just know it wouldn't be like it is now. I would probably be in a loveless marriage, have numerous affairs, and work for my fathers company. It is actually pretty scary thinking about how my life could have been.
Why is it when someone dies you get all philosophical? Maybe it is because death makes you want to look back on your own life and see if this is the path you want to be headed and that when you die you know that you lived a good life and that you didn't waste it. Death also makes you want to see what and who made you the person you are today. I know it made me. It didn't help that the person who died was probably the main person who influenced my life. I'm not saying that she was the only person who influenced me. There are more of course, but she was what made me think about changing. She got me wanting more than just pecuniary things. She was, if you will, the first stepping stone in my path to a new life. So thank you Rory Gilmore, for being my hero.
In case you all were wondering, Rory's husband was Logan.
