Disclaimer: I don't own GG

Background: takes place in the episode where Lorelai is gone for the weekend and Rory eats in her house with Jess and Paris, which is when Dean comes, Jess leaves and they start fighting.

WARNING: contains mentions/ possibly graphic explanation of rape

Chapter 1

"And the world keeps spinning madly on…"

There are those times in life where everything seems to be going wrong, and the only thing that keeps us going is the hope. The hope that tomorrow comes another day and things will eventually fall into place and become better.

Then there are those times where everything is perfect, so perfect than in some sick, perverted part of your mind you expect something to go wrong. Lately, everything in Rory's life had been going great. Her mom was her best friend. So far, they almost never had a fight, not one that lasted more than an hour anyway. Then there was Lane, and Dean, who was the perfect boyfriend. Her father had been around more often than before, and where he wasn't, Luke had been there for her. Stars Hollow was a small town, but she loved the silence, the comfort in everything being so predictable. She loved all the crazy little characters of the people in the town with their peculiarities, and they loved her. Even the absence of any sort of privacy did not seem to bother her. After all, she had lived like that her whole life. Chillton was her jump-start towards Harvard, and though it seemed impossible at first, she started doing great there too. Everything was fine.

Until tonight.

I should've anticipated this, Rory thought. I should have known. It had been building for a while. The small quarrels she and Dean had with Jess, the obvious irritation of Dean towards Jess…she should've been more careful.

But then, Dean had always been the perfect, gentle, understanding boyfriend.

And Jess, despite of the few really great conversations they had, hadn't seemed too interested in her. Though, he did seem amused by Dean's irritation. Again, she couldn't have predicted in a 100 years, how this whole night would turn out.

She just wanted a quiet night to herself in the absence of her mom. Dean seemed irritated, but he understood, and she thought that was the end of it.

There was no way she could have predicted how quickly things could turn around. But later, hours and days and weeks later, she would think back, rewind back every second of that evening, searching for something, some indicator of the scene that was about to play out, something that she could've done differently, some way that she could have stopped this, and she would repeat again the one thought, that could've been a lie, but it still kept replaying over and over in her mind.

I should've known.

"Stop yelling!" Rory's mind was racing. Sure, over time they have had their differences and their fights. They had yelled before. But this time, she didn't know what she could do that would make her look innocent. "I know how it looks like but…"

"But what Rory? You didn't know he was coming?"

"I didn't!"

"You didn't invite him, you didn't want him to come…" he insisted, as if he didn't hear her.

"I didn't. I swear, Dean, you have to trust me!" She felt the warmth reached her cheeks and surfaced her skin in ugly red spots, when she realized the amazed expression on Paris' face. Nice. There's a nice little show we are making for her. She didn't want to fight with Dean, but that part was already far out of her control. But even more than that, if she couldn't avoid fighting, she didn't exactly want Paris, or anyone else for that matter, to witness her fight.

"Why? Why should I trust you?" He was looking at her, suddenly silent, and she felt the anger coming out of him in waves while he glared at her. There was something in his look she never saw before, and she couldn't understand it yet.

"Because, I love you! When have I given you a reason to doubt me?" she yelled back, exhausted to keep doing this.

He breathed heavily and his fists were clenched tightly as if he was trying to contain himself. Finally, she though, I am exhausted, so exhausted. She saw the noticeable way in which his body trembled, and felt his voice like it was foreign for a first time since she had known him. This time, he didn't yell. He spat the words from in between his clenched teeth, as if pronouncing them cost him more that she realized.

"Yeah, my mom said she loved my dad too, before she cheated on him and left tonight. The guy, it was some guy from her office. They were just friends for a long time. The same way you and Jess are just friends."

"Dean…" she finally gasped what had pushed him so far tonight, or at least she thought she started to understand. He valued his family above all. He was never the perfect student that looked forward to university or getting out of this city, the way she was. His family was his safe harbor, the one thing in his life that hasn't changed over time. And his jealousy combined with that…

He kept glaring at her.

"Dean, I'm sorry…" she repeated, and this time the pity was obvious in her voice, or so he thought. He had just lost everything he cared about in the world; he didn't need pity from his cheating girlfriend. The perfect beautiful Rory with the perfect grades and the big plans that refused to acknowledge there were bad things in the world. His perfect Rory, that had suddenly become a stranger, a twisted reflection of his own cheating mother, that he hadn't had chance to confront yet.

"I don't need you to be sorry. I need you to be mine." He spat back, suddenly full of anger again, anger that bubbled in his blood and threatened to consume him. For once this night he stopped feeling the bitter exhaustion that filled him while he tried to figure out what the life of his family will be from now on. The anger filled him with energy, it felt good. And she, she was looking at him so innocently, the same way her mother did few hours ago when she said, it was no one's fault, and then had betrayed them by leaving.

"I am yours. I love you Dean, I wanna be with you. I never felt anything more for Jess than friendship."

Dean visibly shook at the mention of Jess' name. Paris uncomfortably moved, unsure how to leave without saying goodbye, but feeling like an intruder in a scene she wasn't supposed to witness. The chair squeaked, and Rory jumped, suddenly remembering they had audience.

Paris flushed, losing her usual cold and unforgiving temper.

"I should go. Rory, thanks for your help, I'll call you tomorrow, okay, and we'll discuss the rest of the chemistry, right?"

"Sure, no problem" Rory muttered in a low voice, both embarrassed and relieved. She knew Paris would ask questions tomorrow, but in a way she felt glad. She didn't exactly want to discuss the fight with Lane or her mom, because they would be caring and concerned and they would ask her questions she did not yet had an answer to. Paris had never really been a friend and it would be refreshing to talk to someone about this, without having to tell the whole story from the beginning.

Once Paris left, Rory's attention jumped back to Dean.

"Rory!" he yelled again, this time at loss of words. She saw he was hurt and frustrated, and thought she would give everything to turn the clock back, to tell Jess to leave, to comfort Dean in his pain instead of upset him more.

"Let's not yell, please! This was an accident; I didn't plan on him being here. I love you! Trust that!"

He nodded, but a part of him thought but you weren't exactly in a hurry to get rid of him either. No yelling. Ok. He took few rigid gulps of air, trying to control the emotions bubbling inside of him. The thought of losing Rory pained him more than the idea of losing his mom if that was possible. No yelling. He tried again, and the emotions bubbled inside him and spilled over.

He took a rapid step towards her and forced his lips on hers. "I love you Rory" His words were heavy, full of implications, tears, and anger. His kiss wasn't gentle or passionate like always. It was greedy and cold, demanding, wanting what was rightfully his, and what now he took without asking.

She squeaked in shock from the rough contact, but she knew he was still angry and she didn't break the kiss, instead she tried to accept it and put no resistance, hoping this would help him cal down. "I can't lose you too, I can't…"

She felt him kissing her hair, muttering in her ear, and for a second time tonight felt she didn't know the person against her. She hugged him back. "It's alright, it's alright, you're not losing me, I love you too…"

He kept kissing her, her neck, her face, her lips, covering her with furious kisses as if her voice didn't quite reach him. His fingers greedily slid down her back, pushing, pulling her clothes, reaching for the skin underneath.

"Dean" her voice was reaching him as if through water, distant and foreign. He just wanted her back, she wanted his sweet known Rory back and she was slipping through his fingers and the closer he was the further she seemed, and so he pushed and kissed her and thought there was only one way to overwrite tonight, to overwrite whatever it was she had for Jess.

"Dean we can't" she cried out when she felt him trapping her, pushing her until they were in her room and she felt the surface of the bed cutting her knees and suddenly she was lying on her back.

They had been talking, thinking about being together for a while. They had planned to decide on a date and make something special. Rory didn't necessarily need dates and glamor. She knew enough to know despite everything her first time wouldn't be the best experience. But of all possible moments, this seemed like the most inappropriate one. It wasn't supposed to be like that with both of them hurt, upset, disappointed and angry.

It wasn't supposed to be like that…

She felt his weight over her and his fingers unbuttoning her shirt. The warmth was coming out of him in waves. She tried to look at him but his eyes looked distant, and she felt a small part of her panic, and she laughed at herself. This was Dean, why would she….

Her thoughts were cut off by his fingers, digging furiously the flesh of her back, hastily trying to unbutton her jeans.

"Dean stop, I'm not ready. You're angry, I understand, let's just calm down…" her voice was weak, even in her own ears. She found herself out of breath while he was kissing her neck and feeling her.

The red velvet shroud before his eyes filled him to the extend. The anger erupted. She didn't want him, she never wanted him, she lied to him all this time, she wanted to be with Jess, and she would sleep with Jess, why wouldn't she sleep with him? He needed her, he needed to be with her and she was so further, he couldn't feel her.

He could kiss her and be with her and it wouldn't be enough, nothing could overwrite her betrayal and the worst part was it didn't matter what he was doing, she was slipping away, and there was nothing he could do that would make things different. He just needed her….the thoughts were racing in his mind. His. She was his. She was never going to belong to Jess, not for as long as he had anything to say about it.

"Dean" she cried out for a last time, and let the tears of desperation slide over her red face. He was stronger than he looked. His muscles didn't look that big but he was holding her in a steel frame while he was unbuttoning his own jeans and he pushed himself inside of her.

"Mine" he repeated through the red should of pain around him, while he moved intact with his rapid heartbeat. "Mine, mine, mine, you're mine."

Somewhere in the distance, far from him, someone was crying.

A while later, minutes or hours, somewhere deep inside of him something clicked and the shroud broke, and she saw Rory under him, her clothes ripped, her cheeks covered with tears, her eyes closed as she kept whimpering and praying silently.

"Rory" he pushed her wet hair out of her eyes and stroked her gently. She tensed under his fingers and her eyes fluttered open, two big sapphires, swimming in tears, terrified. The tears spilled over and she gave a little incomprehensible cry. Possibly she meant to say something, but the sound that came out of her lips was small and desperate, and his throat tightened when he understood that he was the one that cost her that expression.

"Rory, please I'm sorry, I love you, please"

She kept crying as he kept caressing her hair. "Please Rory. Tell me we're okay, I'm sorry, it was a moment of weakness, I'm sorry, tell me we're okay."

She took a deep desperate gulp of air, broken by the sobs, and she tried to move her lips, but no sound seemed to come out. Suddenly she felt small and unreal. Say something insisted the voice inside of her. Say something. He is too strong and he won't leave unless you say everything is okay. She tried again, and her voice failed her.

"Say something, Rory, please" he cried out, and she felt all sympathy she had felt for him disappear. What did he have to cry about?, insisted a cold, unforgiving part inside of her. She tried again, and this time, she managed to form the words she needed to say.

Her voice was harsh, raspy and low, but it worked. She tried to make it sound as even as possible.

"We're okay, I understand." The only thing she understood was the big red sign in her mind, screaming, you have to break up with him. But she didn't have any power now. She needed him out of her house, that very second, and the rest she would deal with later. "Can you please leave now; I need to get some sleep."

"Okay. Okay. I'll see you tomorrow. I'm sorry. I love you Rory." He muttered finally and moved off of her.

"I love you too, Dean." She managed, broken, lying, betraying herself again only by pronouncing these words. But she knew she had to say them, to assure herself she would leave. She waited a while after she heard the door slam behind him. She stared the ceiling in hope that this would muddle the pain, that it would prevent her from thinking, but it didn't.

So she pushed herself in a standing position and examined herself in the mirror. She didn't look as bad as she felt. Her clothes were messy and ripped in places, her skin- red at places where he had hold her just a bit too strong, and her face was wet and red from the crying.

Her hair, her shiny brown hair was messy and standing in all directions as if she walked through a forest. Her eyes were the most startling to her. She expected herself to look terrified or hurt, but in her own wide open eyes she didn't see anything, just blank indifference and a wall of nothingness.

The pitch ringing sound of the phone broke the silence and she jumped, trying to contain herself, still staring the mirror.

She strolled down the hallway, feeling her whole body sore. She tried not to put too much thought into it. She checked her voice and then took the phone.

"Hello?"

It was her mom, who took a whole 20 min explaining the horrible day she had with her mother in the spa. Rory muttered agreeable sounds, completely aware she have to say something more, but she couldn't think of anything.

"Rory are you okay?" her mom asked finally, suddenly worried.

"Yeah, mom I'm fine. Just tired" Please please please stop talking I can't think about this I can't think….

Lorelai noticed her voice sounded weak and decided it was probably just a bad day, so she tried to cheer her up "Anything to do with the bikes and lowlifes I ordered?"

"Something to do with the lowlifes probably, yeah" That was sort of true, Rory thought bitterly.

"Good. Glad you decided to act on it!" Lorelai laughed in a low voice and Rory found herself absorbing the sound with gratitude. It sounded so happy, so normal, and so usual, so out of place now. Rory sighed, thinking she would never hear herself laugh like that again. Lorelai thought Rory probably made some party after all and was just tired, so she said goodbye, and they both closed the phone.

Rory slowly moved back to her room and stared the board on the wall blankly, the board that she and her mom filled with pictured and articles about Harvard since she was little. She stared bitterly until she couldn't take it anymore.

Her life, her glossy colorful dreams about foreign countries and books, about university and having a perfect guy beside her, it all seemed so ordinary, so further, so foreign right now. She was out of this world now, out of the perfect world in which having a boyfriend and going to college were completely natural things to do…

And she, she was out of this world, and she was never going to be this person again, so innocent and naïve. She longed for this her whole life, but now it seemed like the most foreign concept to her. The irony seemed bitter and cruel.

She stared silently, with the disarrayed halo of messy brown hair and blank sapphire eyes.

Suddenly she felt herself pulling the board out of the wall and throwing it on the ground, while her small body shook from the sobs and she slid on the floor. How could anyone live in so cruel unfair world? How could you keep breathing after something like that? It's not fair, it's not fair…

When there were no more tears inside her, she pushed herself off the floor and looked around, feeling empty. The events of the evening seemed distant and unreal. Her mind felt trapped. She forcefully tried to avoid imagining the night, and so she concentrated on what she was good at: organizing.

She picked the board from the ground with numb fingers, straightened the pictures, and put it back on the wall- there had to be no trace that could lead anyone to questions. No one could know that she was tainted, poisoned, ruined now. She couldn't imagine how she would keep living if anyone knew.

What next, what is next? She panicked, and felt the sweat on her face. Fix this I have to fix this. What do I do now? Her mind was spinning and turning at one place, unable to connect a single thought. What is next? Then her eyes fell on the sheets and she remembered her clothes.

Sheets. I need to change the sheets.

She did that, and then picked simple cotton pajamas for herself and made herself go in the bathroom. The hot water cut the tension in her shoulders like hundreds of tiny knifes, but she didn't mind. She slid down the white plastic wall and broke down again, crying shaking as if the world was ending. When the water stopped, she regained her frame and stopped crying, as if it was unfair of her to break down, as if she had no right to.

She took deep breath, feeling surreal, and went into her bed. She was sure she's not going to sleep at all, but surprisingly to her, she felt dizzy as if she had drank the whole night, and five minutes later, she was sound asleep. There was no more pain, just a blissful cloud of nothingness.