AN: this is a co-write between myself (banana flavored lemonade) and Ace5492. This is set when Rory is 4.
Disclaimer: neither I or Ace 5492 own Gilmore Girls or any characters there in. We only own this storyline and any characters that may be originally introduced into it.
Enjoy and don't forget to give us feedback. Links to both of our profiles with be accessible on the joint profile created for the means of publishing this story on mutual ground.
I watched in wonder as it continued. The volume increasing with each of my efforts. Kicking, screaming. Red, tear stained cheeks. How is it that so much can be understood by such a small mind? Amazing, yet troublesome breeding, that's how. It's all her fault but blame is not what today is about. My thoughts were threatening to engulf me and I couldn't let that happen. It'd get too dark. I shook away my internal mumblings and focused back on the task at hand.
My apartment was a mess. Clothes, toys and general clutter crowded the hardwood floors. And in the corner, where she had been for the last two hours was a little girl with bright, but clouded, blue eyes and long brown hair. My heart went out to her. I understood. All too well, about what she was experiencing. The heartache like no other, the retching pain of tears that you're too strong to let fall. Only that's where we're different. I don't cry. Men do not cry, no matter what, no matter how hard it may be to fight off the tears. Little girls, however, cried a lot. The strength to fight does not exist in them and all that is left is the pain.
"Please, Rory." I said as I slowly inched towards her frail form that was cowering away from me.
"NO!" She screamed and grabbed the dress out if my hand and threw it across the room. It landed somewhere near my bed, or now, our bed. Wow, I should get more organized.
"Please Rory, just for me." I begged again and tried to reach out to her. The volume picked up and she started hitting and kicking at my prying hands.
"NO!" She once again screamed. The fight continued. A power of wills that neither of us was willing to back down from. Her fight was to win, mine was to help. I made an executive decision and finally snapped. Didn't she understand that others were hurting? That others were being affected by her actions?
I eventually managed to fumble my way through the mess of flailing limbs and grasped her by her biceps. Enough was enough. Once I had a firm grip on her frame I brought her to my body and soon found that if I left my head stationary for too long I'd probably loose a tooth by the end of the day. On the way to the bed I grabbed the dress off of the ground.
The the white softness lay out before me I sat Rory on the bed and watched as she tried to crawl away. Ridiculous, really. A four year old trying to crawl away. I took the dress, undid the zipper and forced it over Rory's head. Brown curls bounced as the fabric came to rest on her small shoulders.
She looked up at me, tears still pouring down her cheeks and her bottom lip still quivering. She had given up. Admitted defeat and was now trying to pull at my heart strings. "Now that wasn't so bad, now, was it?" I asked as I tried to appease her.
"I don't like this dress." She cried.
"Well that's too bad because this is the only one you own." I said and walked over to the suitcase that was next to my bed and pulled out a pair of black Mary Jane's and a pair of long, white socks. When I turned back to the bed I saw Rory heartbreakingly looking down at her dress. The black was reflected in her eyes. Sadness, darkness.
"What's wrong Ror?" I sat down on the bed next to her and smiled slightly when she looked up at me.
"I don't like black." Her eyes were flickering between her dress and the photograph imbedded in her stuffed rooster's wing. Colonel cluckers. Her favorite possession so far.
"Why not?"
"I just don't." She was frowning now, her little eyebrows creased and lips pursed. "It isn't very happy, is it?" She queried. Curious as always.
"No, Rory, it isn't a happy color."
I looked down at her, eyes duller now that black covered her form. "Why do I have to wear black?" She asked as she continued to pick at a loose thread on the skirt of her dress.
"Because that's just what you have to wear today. It's just the rules." It's hard to understand, I assume, for a four year old to have a mom one day and then no have one the next.
"But I don't like it." She answered haughtily.
"Just put your shoes on and read or something while I get dressed. Behave." With that I was off to have a shower. The spray from the showerhead was warm. Calming.
Rory POV
These clothes were stupid and ugly. Mommy didn't like black. I don't like black.
This dress is uncomfortable and itchy. I don't like it.
Across the room I could see my clothes suitcase. Deciding to make myself and my mommy happy I jumped off of the bed and winced at the loud noise it made. He wouldn't be happy if he knew what I was doing. Creeping across the room I reached my suitcase and flipped the top opened. Inside was a mess of colors. Red, blue, pink, yellow and every other color under the sun. I stood there for a couple of minutes. Taking in all of my options.
It's hard dressing yourself. There are lots of things you have to think about, like is it hot or cold, is it a play day or a fancy day? I quickly came to the decision that it must be a fancy day because I am in a dress and it must be a cold day because I have long sleeves on my dress. Using all of the information I had gathered I pulled out a light blue, long sleeved shirt with pink butterflies littering the right sleeve and right side. Then I grabbed a pair of blue denim jeans and pulled my new outfit on. To top it all off I picked out my pink converse shoes and pulled the velcro strap across them.
I hear the shower stop running and once again bent down to my clothes suitcase and undid the zipper on the front pocket. In there was an array of hair accessories.
I thought back to when mommy had brought me this outfit. It was just after one of her big pays and she said that it was time for some girls shopping. We'd spent the whole day picking out outfits for the year. This particular one actually consisted of the blue top, a denim skirt, and pink sandals. To go with it we brought a pink headband with a bow on it.
As soon as I found the desired accessory I slipped it over my hair and ran over to the television where I used the reflective screen to smooth out the kinks. Deciding that I had completed the look I did as I was told, finally, and sat down to read. I just hope I don't get in too much trouble for being naughty. Mommy would like my clothes more.
Luke POV
I heard rustling and bustling over the noise of small water drops falling from the metal showerhead. Every small creak of the floorboards nearest to the bathroom echoed in the tiled area. I doubt she knew this. Tiring of the noises quicker than I care to say I spun around and turned the water off. The spray stopped and every noise became louder now that there was nothing to obstruct it. I wrapped a towel around my shoulders and inhaled the smell of freshly laundered linens. There was now only three towels left. I'd have to save them.
It was tough to remember. How she'd washed all of my linens every week. The same smell clung to my pillow cases just as it did hers. Comforting, I guess you'd call it, the fact that her every piece of her washing smelt as mine did.
Rory refused to shower unless she can be wrapped in a towel that smelt like 'home' afterwards. Home. It's what she called the smell that surrounded you as you slept or dried your body after a calming bath. Truthfully, the smell was something named pine forest, or summer fresh, who knows really. I've hunted and researched all types of washing powder, brought out Dooses and asked Mia for their supplier. My answer came only days ago. They're a bulk supplier; they only sell to inn's and hotel's. I can't get my hands on any of Rory's lullaby.
Quickly snapping myself out of it I dried myself off and wrapped my towel around my waist. Exiting the bathroom I smiled to myself at the sight of Rory sitting on the bed, reading from one of her Dr. Seuss books.
Dressed in colorful clothes she looked younger, more like herself and it made me think, how would Lorelai like us to spend the day? Not like this. Not in black. Not miserable.
"Hey, Ror?" I summoned her attention and gave a lopsided smile when her head snapped up to me.
"Yeah?" she answered uneasily and I could see the worry in her eyes. It was obvious that she knew what she'd done was wrong. At least it was when I got into the shower. Now, not so much.
"Wanna help me pick out some clothes that your mum would like?" her face lit up like stars in the night sky and I knew I'd made the right decision.
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