A/N: This is my first GG story and I'm depending on French channels who
decided to stop airing GG even if the first season wasn't finished yet.
Anyway, this story is AU, first because I want it to be, second because I'm
so not aware of what happens later in the series that I can't possibly
write something right about it. Now, this story is ANGST. I've tried to
keep Lorelei, Rory and other weirdos of Star Hollow in character. Tristan
is totally OOC. Well, not in my mind, since it's a hidden side of what is
shown to the world, but well, I know I'll have some critic concerning OOC-
ness.
This story is about Tristan being abused by a totally lost, drunk and out-
of-control father. I don't give a damn if you think it's cliché, you go
read the first chapter, you don't like it, drop it, I wouldn't want to be
the cause of your waste of time, no need to flame. You like it, WELCOME to
my insane little world! Leave me LONG reviews and I'll love you, lol.
Also, this story is dedicated to Meg and Madz. Thank you dear twin sis for beta reading and insane rambling! I love you Meg. Thanks to you Madz cause your story made me post this one, you know what I mean *wink*.
Disclaimer: I own Ria, a box of cookies and a cup full of coffee. Now, if I owned GG, I would have had the pleasure to see more than the first season *pokes French TV people on a fork*, Tristan would still be on the show, Dean would be more interesting (makes me sleep this guy...) and... *sob* Why don't' I own GG?
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Chapter 1: Another day in Hell
The crowded halls of Chilton were filled with teenagers in uniforms hurrying to go home. As always, Rory passed in front of them without a look nor a thought directed to them. They did the same about her and it just seemed alright.
As usual, Rory started to struggle with her locker's lock, to abandon after three minutes and fifteen seconds, ending banging her head on the blasted metallic door.
"Mary, Mary, honestly, don't you know you lose neurons that way?" drawled lazily somebody next to her.
Tristan, as annoying as always. Leaning against the lockers, hands in his pockets, he was smirking, as usual. Rory sighed inwardly at his sight. Why, oh why, was he here? He was always here. As if annoying "Mary" was his only hobby.
"Why do you know that information? It's no use to you; you already don't have any neurons." Rory replied testily, not missing a beat
"Actually, I've still got two or three running around, so I try to spare them as much as I can." he answered with a shrug.
"That must explain the blank stare and the little naps in class."
"Well, if I want to save them to annoy little Mary, I must make choices."
"See, your skull is so empty that the remaining neurons can't even register a four letter name, two of which are actually the same letter..." she added, shaking her head.
Tristan leaned in and whispered in her ear, "What can I say? It's not my fault if they start to frantically waltz in my head when you're around."
And with that, he punched the locker open, smirked at her and turned on his heels to head to the door. *What a player. This guy is so shallow. Another spoiled rich brat to annoy the world, among the thousands that are already loose on Earth. They're like Oompa Loompas, they invade everything,* thought Rory, frowning and rubbing her forehead where it had hit the locker.
She had banged her head quite a few times during the day. Well, it was a typical Chilton day, so you couldn't exactly expect less. Homework, tests, encounters with Paris, books books books piling in her bag, scolding severe teachers, now, Evil One again annoying her, and she didn't know yet, but the gargoyles would be like mocking poor her waiting for the bus, soaked wet by the rain...
*I swear, this bus is late again because of the Coffee gods. They're angry at me because I've only had time to drink one cup this morning. So the bus is late, I won't have time to do all my homework tonight, so tomorrow I won't be able to see Lane and do all my Christmas shopping and- Gee, the bus is arriving!*
Indeed, the bus had arrived and the track of her thoughts had been interrupted. She stepped inside, collapsed in the nearest seat and opened a book, thinking that the rainy and foggy scenery wasn't worth her attention.
......................
First door she stepped through in Stars-Hollow was Luke's. She had decided that the Coffee gods had to be calmed down. Plus, she just needed some coffee after another day in Hell, so she launched herself in the tale, in order to have Luke make her some coffee.
"No," was answered in a firm tone.
"Come on, Luke, you know how my day can be when the Coffee gods are against me!" she said in a pleading tone.
"Well, a typical Chilton day. And when there's no Chilton, you're bound to thank the Coffee gods for it, so I'm supposed to give you coffee all the time, every day. I say no to that. I won't deliberately help you drown further in this addiction," he drawled lazily while handing a steamy cup of the elixir to another customer.
Rory started to bang her head on the counter while Luke was staring at her, eyebrows raised and fingers tapping on this same counter.
"What are you trying to do? Do enlighten me."
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm upset. And when I'm upset, I bang my head. And you have to give me coffee, or I'll continue and as I have already done this quite a few times today, I'll soon have an enormous bump and will tell Mom to blame it on you."
The mug landed as quickly as light in front of her. Whether it was the whole story or just the last comment about Lorelei the reason of his giving in, the girl didn't care at all: she had her coffee.
"A few times?" Luke said, going back to the conversation.
"Paris annoying me all day, homework, tests, conceited teachers, Tristan opening my locker for me and gargoyles mocking me," she replied really fast.
Luke scratched his head in wonder at that.
"How does Tristan doing something nice for once comes in between conceited teachers and gargoyles?"
"Because Tristan, teachers and gargoyles all belong to the Chilton pack, you know, the one that costs us our souls every Friday night, which means baaaad..." said a voice coming from the door.
"Hey Mom."
"Hey Mini-Me. So what has Spawn of Satan done today to be listed between gargoyles..." she raised an eyebrow, frowned and finally added "And gargoyles?"
"He opened her locker for her," said Luke with a dramatic sigh.
"No. He couldn't have! How dared he open your locker when you were at the point of punching it? He spoiled all your fun! I'm gonna phone his mom, it's absolutely-"
"Mom," said Rory sternly, a hint that Lorelei didn't seem to catch.
"Unbelievable. No education at all. I mean, who taught him manners. Opening a locker for someone in difficulty, that's downright low! And rude!"
"Thank you Mom, I think we've caught your point..." cut Rory, slightly embarrassed by the turn the talk was taking. If there was something she hated, it was certainly having her Mom defending Tristan.
She took her bag and headed for the door, waving goodbye to Luke and Lorelei, already in the middle of a heated argument about coffee.
When she finally arrived home, she took off her uniform, threw it in the bathroom, and changed in some jeans and a long-sleeved purple t-shirt. After having made another cup of coffee, she headed to the dining-room table and started to take out books and notes out of her bag. *two hours before Grand-Ma's dinner,* she thought. But in the middle of her history notes, something caught her attention. A sheet that wasn't covered in her writing but another script.
*Oh no. Tell me it's not what I think it is...*
Rory was perfectly remembering who was seated next to her during that class. The urge to again use the table to get a headache deepened: she had taken some of Tristan's notes with her.
*Damn, I'm going to have to phone him for that.* She growled out loud at it. This day was really improving.
....................
She looked up in the Chilton directory to find his name and phone number and dialled it hesitantly.
"Charles Dugrey," answered a cold voice at the other end.
"Good evening, Sir. I'm Rory Gilmore. May I speak to Tristan please?" said Rory, not very comforted by the voice.
"My son isn't home. Do you want to leave a message?"
"Huh, yes. Would you mind telling him that I have found some of his History notes in my things and that I can drop them tonight if he needs them."
"No, it will be alright. You can give them back on Monday. Have a nice evening."
Rory stared in bewilderment at the phone that had been hung up right in her face.
"Nice man, welcoming, warm. Could melt the snow," she sarcastically said to nobody... Who actually answered.
"Who was this gentleman?"
Rory jumped about three feet in the air before mentally slapping herself for having let Lane scare her that much.
"Mr Charles Dugrey, also known as Satan, Spawn of Satan's father" she finally replied, faking a snotty British accent.
"Would you be talking about your dear Tristan's father?
"Precisely."
"Like in Evil Tristan?"
"You couldn't be more right."
"Care to elaborate why you phoned him in the first place?" exclaimed Lane while jumping on the couch.
"Chilton business," scolded Rory, replaying the phone call in her head and sharing it with Lane. She couldn't believe somebody could be that conceited and snobbish. *Well, like son, like father,* she stated while collapsing on the couch next to Lane. *No, in fact, it doesn't work at all. As much of a jerk Tristan is, he's certainly not as icy as his father.* She was remembering the conceited tone, the way he didn't even seem to know where his son was and how it didn't really matter to him.
She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't even realised Lane was trying to get her attention by waving madly in front of her. After three minutes, Lane just poked her hard in the ribs.
"What?"
"Are we going Christmas shopping tomorrow, and is Dean coming too?"
"Yes to both." Rory grinned at the thought. It would be nice. Walking in Hartford, hands full of bags, laughing, people joyously walking around. They would drink a lot of coffee, maybe they would even have time to go to the movies or something. Dean had dumped her a few weeks ago, but they were now like best friends. Rory couldn't exactly hold a grudge for a long time, and she really had wished to stay friends with him. So they had tried, and were now known as a very close trio, with Lane.
"Twister?" asked Rory, raising an eyebrow.
"You bet!" shouted Lane while retrieving the game box from under the couch and preparing the board.
"So you had lost your History notes?" said Charles Dugrey dryly.
"Yes," was all Tristan could get out. He knew it wasn't any use to lie or to seek excuses, the man would just not listen.
"You should care about your things boy. They could have been really lost and you could have had a test on Monday about this. I don't accept failure, you know that. Once again, you're disappointing me. You're supposed to be responsible, and this proves me the contrary. I suggest you get out of my sight before I lose my self-control. I trust you have homework to do."
The "discussion" was over, and the elder man left the room. Tristan headed to his room, under the roof. He could have had any big room anywhere else in the house, but he had taken this one. It was just an attic he had fixed quite by himself, but it was warm and cosy, unlike the rest of the house. It was his shelter. Nobody ever came here, except for Ria, his six year-old sister.
Tristan sat at his messy desk and started to work. He was too glad to have escaped his father's tantrum to complain about the mountain of homework the teachers had given.
..................
A few hours later, he was still working. He had skipped dinner, he knew better than facing his father. Actually, he hadn't even bothered to move at all: he was aware that the man would have sent him back there without dinner.
The door opened slowly to let appear Ria, who was carrying a plate. She smiled at him and put it on the desk. She then climbed in his lap to look at what he was doing.
"What's that?" she asked in a disgusted tone.
"Biology," answered Tristan, really bored by the topic of study he was looking at.
"How do they know what's in the frog?"
"They've opened it."
Ria turned around to see if her brother was joking, but she could tell he wasn't.
"Erk."
"Yep, very erk..."
Tristan closed the book and leaned back in his chair, letting the little girl snuggle against him. He could hear her breathe as she was slowly falling asleep, and it was bringing peace to him. He stayed like that a long time, stroking Ria's curly hair while listening at the rain on the roof. When he finally decided to go to sleep, he couldn't resolve himself to go down and put Ria in her bed, so he just placed her under his covers and lied next to her. Sleep came quickly, rain was the lullaby.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :: Ok, you know what you have to do now, huh? I guess you're intelligent enough to figure it out by yourself, except if you have banged your head too many times in your life... I leave you to it! *points madly in the direction of the review button* *innocent smirk*
Also, this story is dedicated to Meg and Madz. Thank you dear twin sis for beta reading and insane rambling! I love you Meg. Thanks to you Madz cause your story made me post this one, you know what I mean *wink*.
Disclaimer: I own Ria, a box of cookies and a cup full of coffee. Now, if I owned GG, I would have had the pleasure to see more than the first season *pokes French TV people on a fork*, Tristan would still be on the show, Dean would be more interesting (makes me sleep this guy...) and... *sob* Why don't' I own GG?
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Chapter 1: Another day in Hell
The crowded halls of Chilton were filled with teenagers in uniforms hurrying to go home. As always, Rory passed in front of them without a look nor a thought directed to them. They did the same about her and it just seemed alright.
As usual, Rory started to struggle with her locker's lock, to abandon after three minutes and fifteen seconds, ending banging her head on the blasted metallic door.
"Mary, Mary, honestly, don't you know you lose neurons that way?" drawled lazily somebody next to her.
Tristan, as annoying as always. Leaning against the lockers, hands in his pockets, he was smirking, as usual. Rory sighed inwardly at his sight. Why, oh why, was he here? He was always here. As if annoying "Mary" was his only hobby.
"Why do you know that information? It's no use to you; you already don't have any neurons." Rory replied testily, not missing a beat
"Actually, I've still got two or three running around, so I try to spare them as much as I can." he answered with a shrug.
"That must explain the blank stare and the little naps in class."
"Well, if I want to save them to annoy little Mary, I must make choices."
"See, your skull is so empty that the remaining neurons can't even register a four letter name, two of which are actually the same letter..." she added, shaking her head.
Tristan leaned in and whispered in her ear, "What can I say? It's not my fault if they start to frantically waltz in my head when you're around."
And with that, he punched the locker open, smirked at her and turned on his heels to head to the door. *What a player. This guy is so shallow. Another spoiled rich brat to annoy the world, among the thousands that are already loose on Earth. They're like Oompa Loompas, they invade everything,* thought Rory, frowning and rubbing her forehead where it had hit the locker.
She had banged her head quite a few times during the day. Well, it was a typical Chilton day, so you couldn't exactly expect less. Homework, tests, encounters with Paris, books books books piling in her bag, scolding severe teachers, now, Evil One again annoying her, and she didn't know yet, but the gargoyles would be like mocking poor her waiting for the bus, soaked wet by the rain...
*I swear, this bus is late again because of the Coffee gods. They're angry at me because I've only had time to drink one cup this morning. So the bus is late, I won't have time to do all my homework tonight, so tomorrow I won't be able to see Lane and do all my Christmas shopping and- Gee, the bus is arriving!*
Indeed, the bus had arrived and the track of her thoughts had been interrupted. She stepped inside, collapsed in the nearest seat and opened a book, thinking that the rainy and foggy scenery wasn't worth her attention.
......................
First door she stepped through in Stars-Hollow was Luke's. She had decided that the Coffee gods had to be calmed down. Plus, she just needed some coffee after another day in Hell, so she launched herself in the tale, in order to have Luke make her some coffee.
"No," was answered in a firm tone.
"Come on, Luke, you know how my day can be when the Coffee gods are against me!" she said in a pleading tone.
"Well, a typical Chilton day. And when there's no Chilton, you're bound to thank the Coffee gods for it, so I'm supposed to give you coffee all the time, every day. I say no to that. I won't deliberately help you drown further in this addiction," he drawled lazily while handing a steamy cup of the elixir to another customer.
Rory started to bang her head on the counter while Luke was staring at her, eyebrows raised and fingers tapping on this same counter.
"What are you trying to do? Do enlighten me."
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm upset. And when I'm upset, I bang my head. And you have to give me coffee, or I'll continue and as I have already done this quite a few times today, I'll soon have an enormous bump and will tell Mom to blame it on you."
The mug landed as quickly as light in front of her. Whether it was the whole story or just the last comment about Lorelei the reason of his giving in, the girl didn't care at all: she had her coffee.
"A few times?" Luke said, going back to the conversation.
"Paris annoying me all day, homework, tests, conceited teachers, Tristan opening my locker for me and gargoyles mocking me," she replied really fast.
Luke scratched his head in wonder at that.
"How does Tristan doing something nice for once comes in between conceited teachers and gargoyles?"
"Because Tristan, teachers and gargoyles all belong to the Chilton pack, you know, the one that costs us our souls every Friday night, which means baaaad..." said a voice coming from the door.
"Hey Mom."
"Hey Mini-Me. So what has Spawn of Satan done today to be listed between gargoyles..." she raised an eyebrow, frowned and finally added "And gargoyles?"
"He opened her locker for her," said Luke with a dramatic sigh.
"No. He couldn't have! How dared he open your locker when you were at the point of punching it? He spoiled all your fun! I'm gonna phone his mom, it's absolutely-"
"Mom," said Rory sternly, a hint that Lorelei didn't seem to catch.
"Unbelievable. No education at all. I mean, who taught him manners. Opening a locker for someone in difficulty, that's downright low! And rude!"
"Thank you Mom, I think we've caught your point..." cut Rory, slightly embarrassed by the turn the talk was taking. If there was something she hated, it was certainly having her Mom defending Tristan.
She took her bag and headed for the door, waving goodbye to Luke and Lorelei, already in the middle of a heated argument about coffee.
When she finally arrived home, she took off her uniform, threw it in the bathroom, and changed in some jeans and a long-sleeved purple t-shirt. After having made another cup of coffee, she headed to the dining-room table and started to take out books and notes out of her bag. *two hours before Grand-Ma's dinner,* she thought. But in the middle of her history notes, something caught her attention. A sheet that wasn't covered in her writing but another script.
*Oh no. Tell me it's not what I think it is...*
Rory was perfectly remembering who was seated next to her during that class. The urge to again use the table to get a headache deepened: she had taken some of Tristan's notes with her.
*Damn, I'm going to have to phone him for that.* She growled out loud at it. This day was really improving.
....................
She looked up in the Chilton directory to find his name and phone number and dialled it hesitantly.
"Charles Dugrey," answered a cold voice at the other end.
"Good evening, Sir. I'm Rory Gilmore. May I speak to Tristan please?" said Rory, not very comforted by the voice.
"My son isn't home. Do you want to leave a message?"
"Huh, yes. Would you mind telling him that I have found some of his History notes in my things and that I can drop them tonight if he needs them."
"No, it will be alright. You can give them back on Monday. Have a nice evening."
Rory stared in bewilderment at the phone that had been hung up right in her face.
"Nice man, welcoming, warm. Could melt the snow," she sarcastically said to nobody... Who actually answered.
"Who was this gentleman?"
Rory jumped about three feet in the air before mentally slapping herself for having let Lane scare her that much.
"Mr Charles Dugrey, also known as Satan, Spawn of Satan's father" she finally replied, faking a snotty British accent.
"Would you be talking about your dear Tristan's father?
"Precisely."
"Like in Evil Tristan?"
"You couldn't be more right."
"Care to elaborate why you phoned him in the first place?" exclaimed Lane while jumping on the couch.
"Chilton business," scolded Rory, replaying the phone call in her head and sharing it with Lane. She couldn't believe somebody could be that conceited and snobbish. *Well, like son, like father,* she stated while collapsing on the couch next to Lane. *No, in fact, it doesn't work at all. As much of a jerk Tristan is, he's certainly not as icy as his father.* She was remembering the conceited tone, the way he didn't even seem to know where his son was and how it didn't really matter to him.
She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't even realised Lane was trying to get her attention by waving madly in front of her. After three minutes, Lane just poked her hard in the ribs.
"What?"
"Are we going Christmas shopping tomorrow, and is Dean coming too?"
"Yes to both." Rory grinned at the thought. It would be nice. Walking in Hartford, hands full of bags, laughing, people joyously walking around. They would drink a lot of coffee, maybe they would even have time to go to the movies or something. Dean had dumped her a few weeks ago, but they were now like best friends. Rory couldn't exactly hold a grudge for a long time, and she really had wished to stay friends with him. So they had tried, and were now known as a very close trio, with Lane.
"Twister?" asked Rory, raising an eyebrow.
"You bet!" shouted Lane while retrieving the game box from under the couch and preparing the board.
"So you had lost your History notes?" said Charles Dugrey dryly.
"Yes," was all Tristan could get out. He knew it wasn't any use to lie or to seek excuses, the man would just not listen.
"You should care about your things boy. They could have been really lost and you could have had a test on Monday about this. I don't accept failure, you know that. Once again, you're disappointing me. You're supposed to be responsible, and this proves me the contrary. I suggest you get out of my sight before I lose my self-control. I trust you have homework to do."
The "discussion" was over, and the elder man left the room. Tristan headed to his room, under the roof. He could have had any big room anywhere else in the house, but he had taken this one. It was just an attic he had fixed quite by himself, but it was warm and cosy, unlike the rest of the house. It was his shelter. Nobody ever came here, except for Ria, his six year-old sister.
Tristan sat at his messy desk and started to work. He was too glad to have escaped his father's tantrum to complain about the mountain of homework the teachers had given.
..................
A few hours later, he was still working. He had skipped dinner, he knew better than facing his father. Actually, he hadn't even bothered to move at all: he was aware that the man would have sent him back there without dinner.
The door opened slowly to let appear Ria, who was carrying a plate. She smiled at him and put it on the desk. She then climbed in his lap to look at what he was doing.
"What's that?" she asked in a disgusted tone.
"Biology," answered Tristan, really bored by the topic of study he was looking at.
"How do they know what's in the frog?"
"They've opened it."
Ria turned around to see if her brother was joking, but she could tell he wasn't.
"Erk."
"Yep, very erk..."
Tristan closed the book and leaned back in his chair, letting the little girl snuggle against him. He could hear her breathe as she was slowly falling asleep, and it was bringing peace to him. He stayed like that a long time, stroking Ria's curly hair while listening at the rain on the roof. When he finally decided to go to sleep, he couldn't resolve himself to go down and put Ria in her bed, so he just placed her under his covers and lied next to her. Sleep came quickly, rain was the lullaby.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :: Ok, you know what you have to do now, huh? I guess you're intelligent enough to figure it out by yourself, except if you have banged your head too many times in your life... I leave you to it! *points madly in the direction of the review button* *innocent smirk*