Summary: Tristan finds himself in Colorado where he finds her. Rory Gilmore – she isn't the same, she is lost and broken. Can he help bring her back and lead her home? [Tristan and Rory]

Disclaimer – I don't own them.

Caution Rated M for subject matter: May trigger memories for some readers. Descriptions are not graphic but deeply emotional. If you have been abused you may not want to read this.

Fallen Angel

Chapter 1 – She Weeps in her Sleep

Tristan was walking down an endless street in a redneck town. How the Hell had he wound up in Denver, Colorado. Oh yeah, he went drinking with his Air Force buddies from Colorado Springs and they swore the Denver bars were 'friendlier'. He was way to sober for this shit. His wanderings brought him to a long white stucco building where he was brought out of his musings by a fracus. He looked up noting the flashing neon sign that read 'White Horse', curious he walked in to see a smokin' hot brunette going all Coyote Ugly and pouring headshots on the bar. He walked over found an empty stool and tossed a 20 on the bar then laid out for his drink. He watched her as she dipped and swirled pouring the drinks into waiting mouths and grinding her lovely hips. She came towards him preparing his shot and they shared a brief look of recognition. She shook her head pour the tequila and lime mix into his mouth then proceeded back up the line to retrieve salted limes plopping them in awaiting mouths opened like birds awaiting feeding. She arrived at him and kick flipped off the bar and steadied herself in front of him pulling him forward and running the lime over his lips then purposefully holding it for him to bite. She watched him carefully swallow and then leaned in and kissed him ignoring the shouts and groans as well as the catcalls. He was mildly stunned at her action and he pulled her roughly to him assaulting her mouth with the intensity of tequila and lime. She pulled away from him and grabbed his hand heading out of the bar and waved to the bartender as means of goodbye. She led him to her car and beeped it open, slid into the driver's seat and waited for him to buckle up. Once he was situated she left the parking lot, at what he could only guess was an unsafe speed and shot down the street. They made a few quick turns and parked on a steep incline in front of a 2 story modernized Victorian and she exited the vehicle. She waved at him and he followed her up the stairs to her door. She led him in and locked it behind them then proceeded upstairs to what he presumed was her room. He followed her and she stopped in front of her bed and pulled him into another mind blowing kiss.

"Hello Tristan, long time no see." She said well undressing both himself and her. "What brings you to town, business or pleasure? I hope it's pleasure because that is my intent with you."

He was awestruck at her forwardness. Her whispery seductive voice had him quivering in anticipation. He didn't know why but he felt like something was wrong. His body screamed 'YES' but his mind was begging him to slow things down.

"Ror, I can't believe I am saying this," he took a deep breath and grabbed her hands stilling them."we need to slow down, talk maybe. It's been what 8-9 years and you just want to ravage me. Not that I usually complain about being ravaged, it just doesn't seem like you."

She pulled her hands from his and let out a frustrated growl, "What is me Tristan, you haven't known me for 9 years and this is it. I flirt in bars, pick up men that appeal to me take what I want and let them on their merry way. Heck if it hadn't been you someone else would be here now and trust me he wouldn't be talking. You saw me when you walked in, I don't work there if that's your question, I do that to blow off steam and find playmates. You looked a likely playmate so I brought you home. If I was wrong there's the door; don't let it hit you in the ass on the way out!"

"Woah, there, I will happily be ravaged by you but after can we talk? Catch up, maybe grab a coffee?" He leaned in and began to undress her and she let him. He stroked her face and traced her face carefully his hands memorizing the softness. He stroked her shoulders and brought her in kissing her with intensity but not ferocity. He played with her collar and peppered it with kisses, he was kind and gentle and it made her feel things she hadn't in a very long time. He worshiped her with caresses and tender kisses, whispered how beautiful she was and how he wanted to make slow deliberate love to her. She froze.

"You can't make love to me, you don't know me. I don't have soft sweet encounters, it's ravenous and hard and empty. You can't be sweet and caring," Tears began to fall and he pulled her to his chest. "I'm nothing! Don't you understand, that girl you knew the one who was sweet and soft – She's dead – I am what's left and I am NOTHING! I have no one! No family! No Friends! I am NOTHING – nothing – just go.." her voice went from rageful to dejected.

"Ah Mar, I don't know how you got so broken, so bitter and hard, but I can and will make love to you, one day, you may not be sweet 16 anymore but that is the image I have of you and I have only ever wanted to make sweet gentle love to you." He pulled her to him.

She pulled back, "No, just take me with hard kisses and rough hands, paw me without skill or care and then leave, that's how it works. That's what I get." She shuddered into his chest wetting it as she cried.

"Oh baby, that's not how it works. You get to be worshiped and adored and made to feel the earth crumble beneath you. You get pleasure like you won't believe and it is all about you." He led her gently to the bed and supplied her with tissues he found there. "What happened, tell me."

She couldn't do it, she couldn't tell him what drove her here, to this, living off her trust and hiding from the world. She wiped her tears and tossed the tissue then turned and kissed him softly.

"OK, do it your way." She scooted up onto the bed and laid her head upon her pillow.

"You are so beautiful", he crawled over to her and gently stroked her cheek and pulled her half dressed form to him. "No, not tonight, tonight you look like you just really need to be held. Why don't you put on some pajamas, I can sleep in my boxers and I will hold you, OK. Then tomorrow we can talk."

She extracted herself from his arms and went to her dresser to pull out some pajama pants and a t-shirt. She changed in front of him, no modesty in sight, and then walked to the small ensuite to wash her face and brush her teeth, it was all so mechanical. He watched her carefully as she climbed in next to him. He slid out of his pants and shoes and pulled the blankets over them then wrapped his arms around her and kissed the back of her head. It wasn't too long until he heard soft troubled breathing signaling her sleep and soon he followed suit.

Morning came and Tristan found he still had her in his arms, she wasn't a mirage, and she didn't disappear. She was here in his embrace and he had turned her down for sex because it felt wrong. He looked around the room, it was modest, almost bare, there wasn't much color and he didn't see any photos or personal items. Maybe this was a spare room she used for her encounters, but no she had retrieved pajamas. He was puzzled, what could have happened that she would leave her family, her friends and come here of all places. This backwoods, hippie and redneck festival in denim. Her head was on his chest arm flung over him. Her hair was tickling his nose and his arms encircled her. He looked at her face now in the light of day she looked older than her 25 years. She boasted dark circles betraying her lack of sleep, her lips were tightly closed against any words she may slip, and even in sleep it seemed she had no rest. He glanced at the t-shirt she was wearing but couldn't tell anything from its blank nondescript back.

She made a small whimpering sound and he notices tears in her eyes, "Rory, sweetheart, wake up – you are dreaming, it's OK?" He gently rubbed her back trying to rouse her.

She froze, then shuddered awake looking around to see where she was. Her eyes were clouded and there was real fear in them. She lifted her head to look at him.

"You're here, you stayed. Why did you stay, you didn't get laid last night there was no reason for you to stay for an encore." She looked at him as his eyes grew huge at the implication.

"Of course I stayed; you needed a friend not to get laid. We were friends once, kind of. Let me be your friend you look like you really need one. What happened, I recall you were super close to your mom and that nutty town you lived in. Tell me." He implored desperate to help her find the light she used to possess. If he hadn't known her before he would have thought she was just another socialite out to blow daddy's money in spite. If she had been any other socialite he would have screwed her and left, but this was her, his sweet Mary and he had to know.

She looked into the depth of his blue eyes and started, "Tell you what, let's get dressed, get breakfast and I can tell you my tale of woe. Then you can be on your merry way and forget this ever happened."

She rose from the bed and entered the ensuite shutting the door before awaiting his answer. A short while later she emerged obviously fresh from the shower and wrapped in a bath sheet, opened a cabinet and handed him a towel, washcloth and toothbrush. She then went to her dresser and retrieved a clean t-shirt, jeans as well as undergarments. When he emerged from the room she was dressed and pulling on a pair of red ankle high cowboy boots. He grinned.

"Hey don't mock the boots, they are practical, comfortable and come in handy if I don't want to play." She scolded pulling on the second boot and pulling her hair into a ponytail affixing a barrette.

He raised his hands in mock surrender and proceeded to redress in the clothes he had worn the night before.

"While I cleaned up I got to thinking, I have nothing but time. I'll take you to breakfast, hear your story and we can check out some sights. I have to call a buddy to get my stuff but I can stay here if you want. Like I said looks like you need a friend and I happen to be a good one. Trust me."

"I don't usually take in strays, but since you seem earnest." she paused," If after we talk you still want to stay I say - OK, but just for a week, getting attached is dangerous." She said as she walked down the stairs, him close behind arriving at the door where she grabbed her keys and let him out then locked the door to get into the car. He took the keys signaling to her that he would drive; he didn't think she should in the emotional state she was in. She agreed and they drove towards a local café.