Pairing: Dean/Rory
Note: In this story: Jess doesn't exist. Ah, how nice that sounds. Almost as nice as the sound of his character getting run over by a bus.
Distraught
Rory and Dean are walking back through the streets of Stars Hollow hand in hand. The summer night sky is approaching darkness.
"Do you have to be home?" Rory asks quietly.
"I don't think so."
"Okay. Good."
"Why?"
"Because I want you to walk me home."
"You know I would have anyway."
"Yeah, but this way it's not rushed."
"Point taken."
They reach Rory's front porch and just stare at one another for a few moments smiling until Loreai opens the door.
"Are you two done yet?"
"In a minute, Mom," Rory replies, not breaking the stare.
"Who's winning?"
"What?" Rory asks.
"The staring contest. Who's winning?"
"Mom, i'll be there in a few minutes, okay?"
"Going from one to a few minutes? I'm moving down the priority list in this girl's life," Lorelai mumbles to herself as she closes the door and leaves the two outside.
"So."
"So.."
"Goodnight."
"Yeah. Night," Rory replies moving closer.
Dean leans down and dips in for a sweet connection between their lips and pulls back after a few seconds.
"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" Rory asks.
"Right."
Dean walked the opposite way after Rory was safely inside. They don't say goodbye. They never say goodbye. They had engaged in a coinsidentally strange conversation over the phone and decided that whenever they say goodbye, it brings absolutely no happiness. And made a pact to never say goodbye to one another when departing. Rory never admitted that she was a girl who missed her boyfriend when she didn't see him for a few days or didn't talk to him on the phone that day, but they both knew that they thought about each other.
Dean arrived home that night and went directly upstairs. Only a few seconds after he heard the front door slam downstairs, he heard the inevitable shouting coming from his parents. He silently opened his bedroom door and went to stand at the top of the stairs, only to see Clara got to it before him. She was already listening to the conversation. Dean sat beside her as they listened quietly looking at the wooden stairs beneath them.
"I don't understand why you can't just hear yourself when you talk!" his father spoke, sounding frusterated.
"Do we really have to argue now?" she shot back sounding aggrivated with the discussion.
"Yes. We do. I want to know what's going wrong. What's so different with you--"
"With you and me," she finished for him.
"No. Nothing's wrong with us, it's just been different."
"It's been different. It's been different for a few years now. We havn't been..the same as we were so many years ago," Dean's mother replied, getting quieter.
"I know. But we can work on it. We can go to a...a family therapist," he stumbled with his words.
"No. I don't think we can work on this anymore. That's what we've been trying to do for a while now. We have nothing in common."
"Yes we do. We love each other," Dean's father was sounding more upset as he talked. He tried to hide it with anger but it came out in a sad tone. His mother didn't say a word. It was silence for a few moments until his father spoke again.
"We love each other," he said..and after a long pause, "don't we?"
"I....want a divorce."
Dean looked over at Clara who had tears in her eyes. She stood up and went to her room, closing the door silently. Dean stayed sitting where he was and looked back at the bottom of the stairs when his mother appeared there. Both being expressionless, Dean stood up and went to his own room, closing the door behind him.
Author's Note: I know ff.net's been weird lately and it's been operating funny, but I felt like putting up the start of my story anyway. Tell me how you like it.