Rory was snuggled up with Finny and G on the parlor couch, their feet tucked under a soft comforter, the babies doing their second nap of the day upstairs. Finny had been a little clingy all day, but quite happy to just toy around with a couple of his books without needing any serious entertainment.
They'd been watching Schitt's Creek, and G had been telling Rory everything good and otherwise observational, like the transportation strike, about her trip to France. She genuinely had enjoyed seeing her friends again. Rory knew the headlines of the rest, and she wasn't pushing it. She would tell her when she felt ready to do it. What mattered the most to Rory was that G was getting help, Celeste having already set her an appointment a week from now, and to where G had actually invited Rory to come along to. She wasn't going to let Rory in on everything, not straight away at least, but even inviting her along for support was already a fundamental change in their relationship.
After a while Rory could hear someone's steps come down the parlor stairs that connected the room to the dining room on the half-open second floor, and she cast a look over her shoulder catching sight of Logan. G was clueless to their issues at that point, somehow to Rory it still felt like she was too much of a child to involve G in her issues - which may or may not be an accurate estimation, but at the very least she was certain that G had enough on her plate right then.
"Can we talk?" Logan asked.
For a moment Rory froze, looking at him.
"G, do you mind keeping an eye on Finny for a bit?" Logan asked, before Rory had a chance to reply, sounding serious enough to also catch G's attention that something must've been up.
"Sure," G replied, pausing the TV show. "Hey, Finny, you want to head up and show me the new toys you got for Christmas?" she asked and took Finny's little hand. Naturally the boy was ecstatic to show off his things to a willing playmate.
"Lets go to the study," Rory suggested, gesturing towards Logan's study, knowing that Maya was probably just hanging out in her quarters or the kitchen, leaving her possibly in earshot if they were in the parlor. And she really didn't feel like discussing this in front of anyone. Rory was ashamed of having ended up there - barely talking, maybe even having broken something deep.
Logan followed her to the study, closing the door behind them.
Rory didn't know how to be - sit or stand, lean against a shelf, cross her hands or uncross them, struggling to pick just one. It was about the message she was giving off, should she appear defensive or apologetic - or something else?
Logan was used to negotiations and conflict resolutions, not letting hesitance show in his body language. Rory knew it didn't necessarily always reflect how he felt, having a pretty good poker face, but the confidence he radiated as he leaned to sit on the edge of his desk, legs stretched out, was a little intimidating in this case. Rory hated seeing him treating this like it was something he would do at work.
The silence was suffocating.
"If you're going to yell at me just go ahead," Rory exhaled, throwing her hands in the air defeatedly, deciding to sink down to the couch still unable to pick some other stance. She wasn't up for a word battle - who was more clever, witty and more intelligent in their word choice. She was off her game, their intense arguments, that they'd sometimes had in the past, sometimes even just for fun, were history.
Somehow it was not what Logan had expected. He'd expected maybe an apology or excuses, resistance or even begging - though he knew the latter was something he really didn't want to ever happen in their relationship.
"I don't want to yell at you," Logan said, calmly, letting his poker face drop. Rory could sense his body relaxing notably.
"Then what?" Rory said, almost huffed, a bit more strongly than she had intended.
"I just don't want to leave when we're like this," Logan exhaled truthfully. But the word choice wasn't ideal.
"Then maybe it'd just be better if we do leave it like this, so you wouldn't want to leave," Rory's lips spoke, the message having not gone through a filter.
"Is that what you think? That I can't wait to get away from here?! I told you I was willing to take some time off and be home more - I would've done it even without you interfering. All you had to do was talk to me, Rory!" Logan shouted.
"It's not just about being in this house, Logan - don't you get that?" Rory responded in a huff, rising from her seat and walking across the room, unable to stay still.
"What is it about then?" Logan rose too and yelled, not following.
"It's about being present, not just physically but really - here -," Rory said, gesturing at her temple.
That caught Logan off guard. He'd expected something about missing the kids growing up, about them not having enough quality time together - god, he felt embarrassed not having been out with her on a real date in months - about being tired or maybe even about having hidden the mugging. But frankly he'd just thought he'd hidden that better.
"What - I'm not allowed to think anymore? Have things on my mind?" Logan said with fury, not even sure why he was defensive.
"Of course you are allowed to think, Logan. Just I wouldn't mind if you let me in sometimes…," Rory replied more humbly. She hadn't felt like he'd truly let her in in months. "I miss you, Logan."
Logan sank down on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his forehead.
"I don't want you to hear the things that go on in my mind, okay?" he said with a groan, after a dozen seconds or so. "You'd hate me for them. You'd dismiss these thoughts as paranoia or just think I was being ridiculous. I don't like myself with these thoughts - they're not the thoughts of the man you married. I'm angry, ashamed…," Logan listed starting from yelling and ending up half-subdued.
Rory could see fear in his face and instead of keeping up the defensive stance she sat down next to him. And Rory also knew that suggesting Logan talk to someone - a therapist maybe - wasn't really an option. Logan really disliked them, and he'd gone a few times to help her, but she just knew that it wasn't the path he was willing to take. He was intelligent enough to analyze himself, often feeling like he already knew everything the therapist would say before he or she said it, he valued his time too much to waste hours talking about his feelings. The way Logan's mind worked was to figure things out by himself, or with his friends - sometimes that involved being off the radar for a few weeks - Rory knew these things from way back. Logan was pretty strongly against popping pills like her sister or mother had also done. But if he wouldn't talk to her, she truly didn't know what to suggest.
"Logan…," Rory attempted to touch him, but hesitated, unsure if that was what he felt like doing. He remained still, but allowed her to touch his shoulder, slowly adding the other hand to wrap him into something that resembled a hug.
While Rory couldn't see his face right at that moment, she could sense a light tremble in his chest. It had been years since she'd seen, felt or heard him cry.
"Please tell me - everything - I can handle it and I promise I won't go anywhere. We made a promise - in good and bad, right?" Rory pleaded. Somehow the topic of talking to Mitchum had been pushed so far in both their minds, it hardly seemed significant at all right now.
"Please," she repeated after a lengthy silence, filled with withheld sobs.
"I feel like we've both changed so much… I can just see us falling into those molds," Logan said almost in whisper. He hadn't really expected it to happen just with having kids - but their lives were completely different. "First it makes me unwilling to give up control, almost possessive, making every decision on a pretence of confidence while it's really just in shreds. I distance myself, I stay away - I make myself busy so I wouldn't get hurt as much when I lose you. And don't say you won't leave - that's not what I mean even. It is more about losing you from having my back, mine and no one else's," Logan said in a raised voice, Rory seeing tears swelling in his eyes.
The first part shocked her, and she really didn't know quite what to do with it, what to say. So she simply took the second part that she did have a response to.
"I'm sorry Logan - I never thought of it like that, I'm sorry," Rory replied, beginning to tear up herself from seeing him so broken. "I really thought I was just doing that - I only ever intended to have your back, Logan. I did it so you wouldn't have to ask. I realize I made a mistake in the way I did it, but I meant well, do you believe me?"
Rory's eyes were at her most blue like that - the light from the street shining back from the tears that were filling them. "Logan, please..," she begged.
"I'm so desperate for you to always have my back that I actually prefer you being at home like this - that you don't have your own agenda. And trust me how unlike me that sounds - I know how horrible that sounds and for that I'm sorry," Logan let out, the emotions flooding out as having been held up by a dam.
Rory hardly recognized the man saying those things. For the entire 15 years she'd known him, he'd always been supportive of her career and plans, he'd helped her achieve so much of them.
"Having my own things has never made a difference in how I feel about you or whether I have your back or not," Rory explained. "Having your back depends on what you do, what you think and say…," she added, wanting to add that in order to really do that she needed to understand him.
"And I know that - rationally. I just don't know why I feel like this..," Logan said, clearly frustrated with himself.
"And we make our own molds - you've got to stop comparing. You are never going to be your father, and I'm never going to be like… insert name here," she said, not even wanting to say it out loud. She refused to be like Shira, but she also refused to be like Emily Gilmore or her own mother.
"Have I got you?" Logan needed to ask again.
"You have got me - for better and for worse, remember?" Rory replied, feeling sad that he felt like he had to even ask that.
"And all this …. Doesn't it disgust you? Everything I said," Logan hesitated.
"I choose to ignore some of them," Rory said, a weak smile on her lips. He was allowed his concerns and those concerns could lead to more and less irrational thoughts - if he just talked to her and explained - she was sure they'd be okay.
Logan lifted the corner of his mouth. It hadn't really answered his question.
"I always want to hear it all. I'm your person, Logan. I'm here for you to unwind, always. I promise, I'll always come to you first. She hadn't realized how much it sounded like begging, and even if she necessarily hadn't needed to do it, it was what Logan at that point required, feeding his low confidence. Rory wasn't sure whether she'd done it on purpose or not - she just wanted to fix the vulnerable man in front of her.
"But I need you to tell me everything that's going on - like right now yes, I understand that this Mitchum thing upset you - but even from before - you've been so distant. There but not really there. It goes both ways. I can have your back if I don't know what you are up to, what you are thinking," Rory explained.
"I've always felt like.. Untouchable almost, like I cannot be bullied or damaged. But it's not like that anymore - I feel like every single tiny thing could cause my life to vanish. Something could happen in London making it impossible for me not to come home when I plan, something could happen to the kids, or to this...," he said, gesturing at the house around him. Part of wanting Rory to be at home was about not really trusting anyone else with them. "...that all this could just be robbed of me, that my reputation is just a scandal away from being torn to pieces," Logan said. He wanted to add that Rory could just leave, but as she'd assured already, he desperately needed to believe in that, not ask her to keep repeating it. He felt like if he did that he would really stop being the person she'd married.
To Rory the cause was crystal clear - it was still the mugging that was causing this. An odd event that showed him how quickly and how randomly things could change. It had happened at a fragile point in his life when he'd been in charge of everything - he'd been the caretaker while everyone else was depending on him. And if he could be damaged, stolen from and threatened in that moment, what stopped bad things from happening when things were normal?
Rory wrapped herself around him tighter. "You're conscious of the frailty of life - and if anything that speaks of how much you love the kids," Rory said, feeling like she needed to point out the good in these thoughts.
"And you," he said, sensing she had not said it because of hesitance.
"Whatever happens - we'll survive, you'll survival - even if that means living in Celeste and Jess' guest house or dealing with some publicity scandal that has been sucked up from thin air. I knew what I was getting myself into when I married you. I promise, we won't fall into those molds - not if you keep talking to me," Rory assured.
Rory couldn't even imagine how she could survive if anything happened to the kids or him, but at that moment she just needed to say that they would. She needed to be the stronger person in this, assure him, be his rock when he needed her.
"Rory, I'm sorry, Finny keeps asking for you," Rory suddenly heard a knock and voice from behind the door. She wasn't sure how much time had passed or how much of the conversation G had heard, but she quickly wiped up her eyes in her sleeves, cast an apologetic glance to Logan, stroking his shoulder as she pulled apart, heading out the door. She didn't know if this was enough, or whether things had been solved. She could only hope.
"I'm sorry," G added as she handed Finny over to Rory. The boy was a little cranky, and if she was right, he felt kind of hot.
"It's fine," Rory replied, feeling his forehead with her cheek. "Do you have a fever, little guy?" she asked her son in a baby talk.
"Everything okay?" G asked her.
"Yeah, just some… communication issues," Rory replied, pulling in a deep breath of air through her nose., really not feeling like she was ready nor certain enough to say anything else. But she did appreciate her asking. Maybe her sister did understand these things better than she was giving her credit for.
"Let's go find the thermometer, shall we," Rory said, taking the elevator up to the third floor where the bedrooms were.
Paris was back home and as usual Saturday night and Sunday were usually just about her and her kids. Thankfully eight-year-olds were fairly easy to deal with, having their own games and activities they liked to do, and didn't really need to watch them every second. Right now the kids were both reading in the library while Paris headed for her bedroom, knowing she might just as well attempt to get this thing with Vikki over with. She chose the cowardly route of not calling but texting.
Texting seemed to be their thing, sexting that is - and Paris felt a little rusty in it, but thankfully it was coming back fast, the internet being her best friend this time.
But right now she had other things to bring up.
"I think I've been bad," Paris typed. She knew it almost sounded sexual, but she let it slide.
"I Googled you," she added before Vikki had a chance to reply, almost going by the script.
"Anything good?" Vikki texted back with a winking emoji.
God, how Paris loved how she could put positive spins on things like this.
"DuGray was your married name, right?" Paris asked.
"Correct," Vikki replied.
"His first name wouldn't be Tristian, would it?" Paris asked. Vikki had also mentioned his workplace, that his parents lived in Hartford which all could've made it click for her.
"It is, why?" she asked.
Right now Paris was regretting not having done this in person, as she couldn't really see her impressions or sense her tonality. Was she freaking out?
"I think I went to high school with him," Paris confessed.
Vikki added a ROLF emoji.
"Small world," Vikki added, taking this surprisingly lightly.
"I've actually been on a date with him even," Paris admitted. "Is it too weird?" she typed quickly.
"Is it?" Vikki shot back. "Maybe for him… but who cares," she added.
"Not for me," Paris replied, sighing audibly with relief.
"I have been with him for 7, almost 8 years now - I really don't care what he has done or does these days. His opinion on who I see is not a factor," Vikki specified.
"Good," Paris commented, adding a humble smiley, feeling relieved. That was perhaps what the difference was - Vikki had properly distanced herself, but if Paris were to think about Doyle the remnants of the wounds were more fresh for her - it had just really been 3 years since they last slept together, being then already separated. If Vikki had been Doyle's ex from the past, it might have been more weird, but for the fact that it wasn't, she was very grateful for.
"But more importantly, when can I see you again?" Vikki typed, adding some sweat droplets as an emoji.
Paris could feel herself blushing, and glad for not being in the same room as her kids. She was feeling like a teenager.
"What do you think?" Logan asked as she followed Rory upstairs some minutes later, seeing her having just checked Finny's temperature. The boy's cheeks looked a little flushed and his eyes glistened. Logan was beginning to worry, having overheard Rory suggest he might have a fever downstairs.
Rory was glad to see Logan having regained himself, and at least that tension was gone from between them. Opening up, even if not getting everything out had helped. She could see he was worried - it was just like one of the scenarios he'd spoken of - kids could get sick or something could happen to them. Rory had a gut feeling this was nothing serious though, probably just a cold - this time of the year it was easy to pick something up in a playgroup or at the playground, the kid having the tendency to hug all of his playmates.
"99.8, I'll give him Tylenol and we'll see. He's been a little clingy today, so I'll just have to keep an eye on him," Rory said, and filled the measuring spoon with medicine, which Finny ate without hesitation. He actually kind of liked the taste of this.
Having a sick kid at home with the two others, who could also catch whatever this was, wasn't an ideal situation, but Rory knew she'd have to manage. Her relief being the possibility to get someone else to help out or even having the doctor come to them instead of taking anybody anywhere. Food would come to her and the rooms would get cleaned even if she herself needed to catch up on her sleep during daytime - these luxuries she had, hence she couldn't really complain and didn't.
Rory leaned against the headboard of the bed, Finny on her lap and Logan began to read him a story. It was really quite early for bedtime, but there was no denying that he looked ready to sleep. There was no use fighting it tonight.
Logan read the "Time for bed, Miyuki," and both Finny and Rory listened. Rory thought about Logan, while not really hearing the story, rather his voice, and glanced at him caringly. And on occasion as he looked up, their eyes met, speaking without words.
It felt good to feel like a team again, even if it was about something small like this, and even when the boy had dozed off, Logan continued to read the story, and Rory let him continue, feeling the little boy breathing steadily on her chest.
After he finished the book, they set the boy down carefully, Rory attaching the fever sticker on his hand to make it easier during nighttime to monitor him. They emerged from the room quietly, and washed their hands.
"Are we good?" Rory asked hesitantly.
Logan didn't reply, but wrapped his arms around her for a hug instead.
"We have to be..," Logan whispered. It wasn't that they had to be for the kids or for the pretence. It was because he needed them to be okay just as much as she did.
Rory hugged him back and they simply held each-other for a long minute.