* * * * *
Something To Remember
by inmyeyes
Part 2
(A while later. Hartford Hospital.)
Tristan found that he couldn't sit still.
He had driven himself crazy with all sorts of horrible scenarios playing in his mind while he anxiously waited for the ambulance to arrive. What had happened? Would Rory be all right? He wanted desperately to hold her, somehow thinking that he could protect her if she was in his arms but he didn't dare to move her. So instead, he comforted himself by reaching out and lightly grasping her hand, trying to infuse his strength into her. The steady beat of her pulse underneath his fingertips reassured him that she was still alive and breathing.
It only took about 10 minutes for the ambulance to arrive, but in Tristan's mind, it took a lifetime that seemed to stretch on and on. He had heaved a loud audible sigh of relief and in his heart, he knew that everything would be okay. After lightly kissing Rory's pale cheek which was streaked with her blood, he said a silent prayer before following the ambulance to the hospital.
And there he was, still waiting.
With all the pacing he was doing, he wouldn't have been surprised if the carpet lining the floor of the waiting room had been worn out. His jaw clenched in worry, he ran his hand haphazardly through his already messy hair. 'Please, let her be all right,' he prayed.
He had just taken a seat in one of the hard, uncomfortable chairs in the austere room when he heard the sound of a throat being cleared. His head snapped up, and he hastily rose to his feet.
"Are you here for Lorelai Gilmore?" the doctor asked. When Tristan acknowledged this with a terse nod, he went on. "She's in a stable condition. No internal injuries, just a few bruises that will heal in time. Everything is okay." Tristan held his breath when he noticed the doctor's hesitation. "However," and Tristan's heart sunk at the word, "She hit her head hard and the concussion caused some short-term amnesia." The doctor was aware of the worried look in the young man's eyes, and hurried to reassure him. "Her memory will come back. It's just a matter of time."
Tristan swallowed hard, half-relieved that Rory was all right, half-worried over her loss of memory. "So she'll be all right?"
"She'll be good as new," the doctor smiled.
"Can I see her?"
"Of course."
Tristan followed meekly behind, as the doctor led the way to Rory's room. When they were standing a few feet from her bed, he stopped Tristan, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"She's sleeping right now, and she'll probably be sleeping until tomorrow morning. You can come back tomorrow to see her," the doctor advised. Almost as an afterthought, he asked, "Have you contacted her family yet?"
At the question, Tristan's eyes widened in alarm as he realized that he had forgotten to call the Gilmores.
"No, I haven't yet. Her mother's away and she's staying with her grandparents. I'll give them a call after this," he said. With that said, he took tentative steps towards Rory's bed, almost afraid to touch her. She lay seemingly motionless, her dark hair a stark contrast to the crisp white sheets of the hospital bed. On her forehead was a strip of white gauze. Her long eyelashes fanned her cheeks and Tristan thought that there was a surreal, ethereal kind of beauty in her, something akin to a fallen angel.
For those few seconds, the doctor stood from a distance away, watching. The one thought that crossed his mind was that the boy was definitely in love with her, or least close to it. 'Young love,' he mused, smiling slightly before leaving to give them privacy.
Tristan's hand slowly snaked over to Rory's which was lying limply at her side. Carefully, he clasped her hand with his, intertwining his long slender fingers with hers. The small touch gave me immeasurable relief. He sank down on the chair next to the bed, sighing in exhaustion. For a long while, he just sat there; his hand in hers, watching her and assuring himself that she really was all right.
Finally, he reluctantly stood up, remembering that he had yet to inform the Gilmores about what had happened. He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on her pale lips before disentangling his fingers from hers.
"Sweet dreams, Rory," he whispered.
* * * * *
(Later that night.)
A loud beeping noise pierced through her consciousness, and with an effort, Rory pried her eyes open, blinking to clear her blurry vision. All she saw was whiteness of the ceiling and when she looked around, she found that she was the only one in the pristine white room. Her brow furrowed in confusion which caused her to grimace as the throbbing in her head increased. She closed her eyes against the sharp pain, taking deep breaths to slow her heartbeat. When she opened her eyes again, she found that she was not alone in the room.
"How are you feeling, sweetie?" came the concerned voice as the nurse came up to her and started checking her IV.
Rory tried to smile, but she knew that it probably looked more like a wince. "My head hurts," she proclaimed, her voice scratchy.
The nurse merely smiled, patting her shoulder lightly in consolation. "There, there. It'll be fine. You just need to get more sleep."
Rory could do nothing but nod.
"A little while ago, your grandparents came in to check on you but you were still asleep. They'll be coming back tomorrow to see you, dear."
Grandparents? Rory forced her frazzled brain into operation but nothing came to mind. Before she could ask anything, the nurse had already went on.
"Oh, and that sweet boy, of course. He was here by your bed side, right until the end of visiting hours. Such an angel he was. He looked exhausted, the poor thing." She finally stopped talking, and noticed the perplexed look in the girl's eyes. She smiled and reached down to pull the blanket tighter around the young girl. "You just sleep."
And despite all the questions that were running through her mind, she fell asleep a few moments later.
* * * * *
(Friday morning. Hospital)
"Rory!"
The loud cry shook her out of her light nap, and before she even think, a pair of arms were strewn over her. Looking beyond the woman's shoulder, she noticed the elderly man standing behind her. Not knowing what to do, she gave a tentative smile and was rewarded with a bright smile from the man. In her mind, she put the pieces together.
Her grandparents.
She expected to feel some sort of recognition or relief or something... but all she felt was this big gaping hole.
And then she realized something. "What did you call me? What's my name? Why can't I remember my name?" Her tone had steadily increased in panic and urgency as she fought to make sense of what was happening. In her state, she barely noticed the worry that creased her grandmother's forehead.
The man put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, a gesture that calmed her somewhat. "You're just got a case of temporary amnesia. It'll all come back in time."
"What's my name?" she repeated, feeling an overwhelming urge to know who she was... and her name was the first step to that.
"Your name's Rory Gilmore, dear," the woman supplied, smiling gently as she pushed an errant strand of hair behind Rory's ear. "I'm your grandmother, Emily Gilmore." She gestured to the man beside her. "And that's Richard, your grandfather."
Rory Gilmore. In her head, she replayed the name over and over before she finally spoke it out loud, testing how it sounded. The big black gaping hole in her mind remained, but the sense of hopelessness that had consumed her earlier was gone.
"Tell me everything you know about me."
* * * * *
(Later that day. Hospital)
Tristan opened the door as noiselessly as he could, not wanting to wake Rory if she was asleep.
His hunch had been right; she was asleep but this time, the sight of her lying on that bed did not scare him as much as it did the day before. Her face had regained some of its colour, making her look more like the Rory he knew. He sighed in relief, but he felt the exhaustion catch up with him.
After leaving Rory the night before, he had barely gotten any sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, his mind thinking of nothing but her. A few times, he had gotten out of bed to get dressed and sneak his way back into her room, but each time, he talked himself out of it. And when he had finally fallen asleep, it seemed like only minutes before he was awoken by his alarm, signalling the start of the new school day.
School hadn't been any good either. He felt restless and thoughts of Rory forever bogged down his mind. When last period was finally over, he shot out of his chair, ran to the parking lot and sped to the hospital.
And now, standing at the foot of her bed, he felt the tension ebb out of him. Slowly, he plopped himself in the empty chair, reaching instinctively for her hand. He lightly kissed her palm, his free hand resting on her cheek and slowly caressing it. After a few moments, he leaned his head on her stomach. Before he knew it, he was asleep, his mind finally free from worry.
* * * * *
When Rory was roused from her sleep, she felt a heavy, yet comfortable weight on her torso. Puzzled, she tilted her head down but all she could see was a halo of messy blonde hair. She slowly scooted up a little bit, careful not to wake the sleeping boy. She was strangely soothed by the sight of the boy whose head was lying on her stomach. Sure, she had no idea who the hell he was, but something at the back of her mind told her that he was special. Special to her.
Carefully, she took her hand from his, only to lightly touch his cheek with the back of her hand. The feeling of his smooth, warm skin overcame her and a wave of emotion, which she could not classify, washed over her. Smiling slightly, her hand made its way to the back of his neck, then she proceeded to bury her fingers in his unbelievably soft hair.
Her eyes drank in the sight of him; taking note of the aristocratic arch of his nose, the eyelashes lying softly on his cheek and lips that looked so soft and inviting. She also noticed the expanse of tanned skin that was exposed by the top two undone buttons of blue shirt he was wearing and the muscular forearm that was lying on the side of the bed.
'He certainly looks like an angel,' she mused, remembering the nurse's words from the night before.
Tristan was slowly dragged from his restful sleep by the feeling of soft fingers raking through his hair. He sighed, a low throaty sigh of contentment before slowly opening his eyes, taking a moment to adjust to the bright light. And when he realized that it was Rory who was running her fingers through his hair, he almost jumped in surprise.
The surprise increased tenfold when his eyes met hers. She was looking at him in a way she never had before; a look that was part wonder, part fascination and a whole lot of interest. And she was smiling at him too, smiling in that sweet and yet heart-wrenching way she had. He felt a large pang of hope start to rise in his chest as he lazily smiled back at her, his own hand coming up to lightly stroke her cheek.
Then he remembered; Rory had amnesia.
Hope died.
He struggled to keep the smile on his face, but after a while, he realized that it was easy... because she made it so easy for him to smile.
Rory bit her lip, a contemplative look in her eyes. "Who are you?" she finally asked.
"Tristan DuGrey."
She just sat there for a few minutes, looking him right in the eye... or was it looking straight through him and into his soul? Tristan couldn't be sure. He kept his gaze levelled with hers, hoping that whatever it was she was searching for in his eyes, she would find. His hand found hers and he squeezed it reassuringly.
She was trying to listen to her instinct, that's what she was doing. There was something about Tristan which struck a deep chord in her, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out exactly what it was he evoked in her. Love? Concern? Passion? Dislike? Indifference? Hatred? She didn't know, so she figured that the best thing to do was to follow her instinct.
"There's something going on between us." It was a statement, not a question. Rory realized that the loss of her memory had made her more candid and blunt. Whatever was going on in her mind, she voiced it.
Tristan licked his lips in nervousness, his brain working over-time to process her loaded question. "Yes," he answered uncertainly, "I guess you could say so." There was something going on with Rory and him. Granted, that something was more on his side than on Rory's but it wasn't a complete lie. There surely was something between them, a kind of fire that got out of control fast.
Rory's eyes narrowed slightly in wonderment as her gaze never faltered from his. "You're special."
Tristan chuckled lightly, brushing her hair back. "I'd say the same about you," he admitted.
"This thing between us... it's more than just a something, isn't it?" she asked quietly, her heart clenching as something in her wished that it was more than just a something.
He was so caught up in the sparkling blue of her eyes and the feeling of her hand in his that he didn't think at all before speaking, verbalizing his heart's wish. "Yes, we're dating."
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A.N : Sooooo... does all this new information help? See where this story is going? Heeheee. Much more fun to come!