Rory stood in her grandfather's study, behind the desk, facing the window. The setting sun coming through the glass cruelly reminded her that this wasn't a dream, that tomorrow she would wake up without him alive and well.
The wake held the previous day had been small, limited to family and close friends. She had moved through receiving line alone, stood before the casket willing herself to cry but it didn't happen. The tightness in her chest had been building up since the frantic and desperate call from her grandmother the week before, but the tears refused to fall.
Now she was hiding out from the crowds who were attending the memorial service at the Gilmore house, following the somber burial that morning. There were too many people, too many "I'm sorry"s and "How are you holding up?"s, so she had escaped into the one room that brought her comfort, the one room belonging to her grandfather alone, and therefore a room no one else would enter.
There was a quick rap on the door and she sighed, unwilling to turn and face the intruder. She closed her eyes, silently begging that the person would turn and walk away. Instead, she heard the door open softly, and the scent of cologne washed over her, holding her heart hostage as she tried to breathe. Only one person she knew, had ever known, wore that cologne.
"Hey …" said the voice behind her, gruff and comforting.
And suddenly, the tears fell rapidly, in big drops as she silently sobbed. It was the one voice she had wanted to hear, the one memory of scent she had needed to surround her. Familiar hands landed on her shoulders, turning her in against him, the arms she had dreamed of wrapping around her waist as he slowly rocked her back and forth.
"I'm so sorry, Rory, I'm so, so sorry this happened." He whispered in her ear, not caring that her wet face was staining the shoulder of his suit.
She circled her arms around his waist and held tightly, knowing somewhere in the back of her mind it may be her only chance to ever be this close to him again. After what seemed like both an eternity and just a moment, she took a deep, shaky breath, and pulled back slowly. He smiled at her sadly, wiping the tear stains from her cheeks as she lost herself in his eyes and the memories that came flooding in.
"Have you eaten anything?" He asked gently, holding her gaze, and she was powerless to lie, shaking her head no in reply.
"I know you're probably not hungry, but you should really eat something. How about I go make the food rounds, bring you back a plate? You can stay in here, and I'll come right back, promise."
He looked at her hopefully and again she was powerless in his presence, nodding her head yes, and allowing him to guide her to her grandfather's desk chair. She gratefully took a seat, and he walked towards the door, turning back to smile at her again before exiting the room.
And just like that, even with the horror of the past week, she felt alive again, really alive, for the first time in years. Everything she had been repressing bubbled now to the surface, and her mind spun, the scent of cologne clinging to her hair.
Logan was back.
**Author's Note: Title inspired by the song "Cologne" by Alexz Johnson**