Unbreakable Heart

by Angel Grace

When Rory learns that Tristan needs a tutor, will she volunteer for the job? R/T and P/J (eventually, I think)

4. The Bobbsey Twins in the Hospital of Hor...

Pairing: R/T, of course

Rating: PG-13 at the most

Spoilers: May reference anything and everything from Season 1

Disclaimer: The characters referenced here are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino, Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and Warner Brother Television. No copyright infringement is intended. The characters are being used solely for entertainment purposes, and no profit is being made from them.

Author's Note: It really bothers me when TV shows completely disregard the fact that most hospitals do not allow you to use cellular phones inside, as it can disrupt the monitors. Just thought I'd mention that. Oh, and thanks to all the FanForum Trory thread posters for their encouragement and patience!

Unbreakable Heart

by Grace

Part 4: The Bobbsey Twins in the Hospital of Horrors

The bleeding had slowed considerably by the time Tristan and Rory finally reached Hartford Hospital. Nonetheless, he still refused to allow Rory to walk in on her own. Once inside the emergency room, Tristan managed to secure a wheelchair, since she was still protesting his carrying her, and they set about getting her checked in.

Fortunately, it was a pretty slow night in the ER, and Rory only had to wait twenty minutes before seeing a doctor. While she was getting stitched up, Tristan went outside and used his cell phone to call Lorelai. He figured she would have a heart attack if she got home from work and discovered her daughter missing and bloodstains on the floor.

By the time he finished talking to Lorelai and returned to Rory's side, the doctor was done putting in her stitches.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

Rory shrugged. "Okay, I guess. It's nice to not to be bleeding anymore. The doctor says I have a mild concussion, and he wants me to stay a few hours for observation. What did my mom say?"

"She's on her way. I kept telling her that you're going to be fine, but I don't think she believed me. She'll probably break the land speed record getting here. So does she always talk so fast?"

Laughing, Rory replied, "Always. Well, except when she's drinking her coffee, and that only takes a few seconds."

"You two really seem to get along."

"She's my best friend. I know a lot of people think I have it rough because my dad's not around, and we don't have a lot of money, but I wouldn't trade my mom for anything." Realizing the intensely personal turn the conversation had just taken Rory began to feel uncomfortable. "You know, Tris, my mom will be here soon. You really don't have to stick around if you don't feel like it."

He shot her a wounded-puppy-dog look. "Trying to get rid of me?"

Maybe it was the head injury, but for some reason she didn't catch the sarcasm. "No! I just though, you know, that you would have something better to do than sitting here, watching me be concussed."

He raised his eyebrows. "Is that even a word?"

"Yes!" she cried defensively. "At least, I think it is. Things are kind of fuzzy right now."

He looked concerned. "Do you want me to get the doctor?"

"No, I'll be fine."

Somewhat mollified, Tristan took a seat in one of the standard-issue uncomfortable hospital chairs, and pulled out A Tale of Two Cities.

"What are you doing?"

"Wow, you really did hit your head. I would think you of all people would recognize reading."

She huffed in exasperation. "I know you're reading. But why here? Why now? Why that?"

"You're the one who thinks I shouldn't just sit here and watch you be concussed. You're also the one who told me to read five chapters tonight."

"I don't know whether to be proud that you're making an effort or insulted that you'd rather read a book you hate than entertain me. Besides, when I said I thought you had something better to do, I meant like a date, not homework."

He looked at her questioningly. "It's Monday night, Rory. That's not exactly prime dating time."

"I know, but you're…" She trailed off, realizing he would be insulted by her words.

"I'm what? A player? You can say it, Rory. But let me ask you, when was the last time you actually saw me with a girl?"

She opened her mouth to fire off a retort, and then stopped. She had been so busy noticing that he was avoiding her; it hadn't even dawned on her that his hallway make-out sessions had also ceased. "I can't remember," she said softly. "I'm sorry, Tristan. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Don't worry about it. Now, how about a compromise? I'll read to you—then you can be entertained and I'll learn something."

She smiled shyly, happy that the awkward moment had passed. "I'd like that." She settled back against the stiff, itchy hospital pillows, and Tristan began to read.

That was how Lorelai found them a little while later. Tristan's blonde hair gleamed under the unflattering fluorescent lights, and Rory's face wore a content, sleepy smile. She waited until Tristan paused to turn a page before speaking.

"Hey babe. How are you doing?"

Slightly startled, Rory and Tristan looked up at Lorelai. "Oh, hi, mom. I'm okay. I needed eight stitches, and I can go home in a couple hours."

"Good. I was afraid I was going to have to spend the night in one of those nasty chairs." She shifted her attention to Tristan. "Now, do I have you to blame for landing my daughter in the hospital, or to thank for taking care of her?"

"It wasn't his fault," Rory interjected. "I slipped on the floor."

"See, now this is why housekeeping is overrated. It's all dusting and waxing until someone gets hurt."

The three of them laughed, and Lorelai extended her hand to Tristan. "You must be the infamous Evil One. I'll bet you never thought being tutored could be so strenuous."

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Gilmore," he said, taking the offered hand. He cocked a questioning eye at Rory. "The Evil One?"

Rory shrugged and struggled not to blush. "Hey, you didn't exactly make an effort to endear yourself to me at first."

"And yet you still offered to tutor me," he remarked with semi-feigned amazement.

Before Rory had a chance to respond, there was a sound of a throat being cleared. Three heads turned towards the door. Standing there, clutching a bouquet of flowers, was Dean.

"Dean! What are you doing here?" asked Rory.

He fought down his irritation that she seemed more stunned than happy to see him. "I heard you were hurt, and I wanted to see for myself that you were okay."

"Where did you hear about Rory?" inquired Lorelai, her voice tinged with something more than simple curiosity.

Dean looked uncomfortable. "I don't know. I just heard it around. You know how Stars Hollow is."

"Mm-hmm." Lorelai still looked skeptical, but didn't question him further.

Tentatively, Dean approached the bed and held out the bouquet. "Anyway, I, uh, got these for you."

Rory beamed. "They're beautiful. It was so sweet of you to come all the way out here."

It was all Tristan could do to keep from gagging. Was this all it took to win Rory's heart? A bunch of scraggly carnations from that…that dolt? Apparently, sweet-and-harmless-as-a-Disney-movie was more appealing to her than crackling chemistry and witty banter. Shaking his head, he returned his attention to the precious couple's conversation.

"It's the least I could do. You're my girlfriend, and you're hurt. I couldn't just sit around in Stars Hollow. Besides, I wanted to…" Mid-sentence, he seemed to remember that he and Rory weren't alone in the room. Turning to face Lorelai, he asked, "Would it be okay if I talked to Rory for a few minutes? Alone?" he added, sending a pointed glare in Tristan's direction.

Much to her daughter's amazement, Lorelai leapt from her chair, exclaimed "Sure!" while grabbing Tristan by the hand, and exited the room without so much as a single teasing remark.

"Well, that was weird," commented Rory.

"What, your mom? I thought she was always weird."

"Yeah, she is, but in a predictably unpredictable way. This was different."

His brow furrowed as he tried to muddle out exactly what she had just said. "Uh, whatever. Anyway, I just wanted to say I'm sorry for how I acted this afternoon with Tristan. I don't want us to fight about someone as meaningless as he obviously is."

"I don't know if I'd say 'meaningless,' exactly," Rory murmured. "But I don't want us to fight, either."

Dean sighed in relief. "Good. So how'd you get hurt, anyway?"

She laughed, and launched into the tale of her pillow fight with Tristan. Caught up in the story, Rory didn't notice the anger in his eyes as he realized that her time spent with Tristan hadn't consisted solely of studying.

* * *

Out in the hallway, Lorelai dragged Tristan ten feet down the hall before releasing him.

Utterly confused, Tristan asked, "Ms. Gilmore, what's going on?"

"First off, call me Lorelai. Second, there's something wrong with Dean."

"You mean aside from the deformed mushroom haircut?" he sniped dryly.

"Hey, that's my daughter's boyfriend you're insulting."

"Contradict yourself much?"

"Ugghhh! You really are the Evil One!"

"So I've heard. Seriously, what's the problem with Dean?"

Lorelai sighed, suddenly uncertain whether she should be involving Tristan. But she had to talk to someone… "It just doesn't make sense that he's here."

"How so? As you pointed out, he's her boyfriend."

"I know, but the only person I told about Rory being hurt was Luke. There's no way he would have spread it around town."

Tristan looked puzzled. "Then how did he know to come here?"

Lorelai's face was grim. "That's what I intend to find out."

"Any suggestions on how we should go about doing that?"

"Ooh, ooh! We can be two of the Bobbsey Twins! I'll be Nan and you can be Freddie!"

"Um, okay. Now that we have names, what do we do?"

"Hmph. Fine, make me do all the work. I guess we could start by calling Luke, huh?"

"That sounds like a good start. Do you need to use my phone?"

"No, I have one. You go back and chaperone the happy couple while I go outside and make some calls."

Tristan snapped off a mock salute. "Sure thing, Nan."

Lorelai grinned. "At ease, Freddie."

* * *

Quietly, Tristan approached Rory's hospital room. Peering around the doorframe, he saw that Dean had set up camp in the chair previously occupied by Lorelai, and was gazing adoringly at Rory. Even from across the room, Tristan could see the fatigue on her face, and he noticed her glance wearily at the clock.

What is wrong with this guy? Can't he see that she needs her rest? Suddenly, Rory met his gaze, and he could have sworn he saw her face brighten.

Stepping fully into the doorway, he asked, "How are you feeling?"

She smiled weakly. "Tired. Have you seen the doctor recently? I'd really like to go home soon."

"I can go look for him. Do you need anything else?"

"No, but do you know where my mom is?"

"She's just making a few phone calls. I'm sure she'll be back soon."

Her smile widened, and Tristan felt blessed to be on the receiving end of it.

Stepping back into the hallway, he was almost knocked over by a flushed and panting Lorelai. In an almost exact replay of the earlier scene, she grabbed his hand and began dragging him down the hall once again. When she decided they had gone far enough, she stopped abruptly, and Tristan slammed into her back. Once they managed to disentangle themselves, he cocked his head expectantly.

"So what did you learn, Bobbsey Lady?"

"Well, Dean definitely didn't hear about Rory from Luke. In his infinite wisdom, though, Luke suggested that I call Miss Patty, the town gossip queen."

"And what did she have to say?"

"Apparently, she had just gotten off the phone with Babette, who lives next door to us. Babette wanted to know why Rory had been carried out of the house by, and I quote, 'a handsome, blonde young man.'" Lorelai smirked—evidently Tristan wasn't the only one to master that particular facial expression. "Presumably she meant you."

Tristan reddened slightly, and attempted to steer the conversation back towards matters of importance. "How exactly does that help us answer the Dean question?"

Lorelai smirked even more. "Patience, dear Freddie. Babette also mentioned to Miss Patty that, while Rory was being swept off her feet, a certain lanky, dark-haired stock boy was, and I quote again, 'lurking beside the Gilmore house.'"

She could practically see the light bulb go on above his head. "He followed us here," Tristan breathed. "Then he must have waited around until you got here, so that his story would be more plausible."

"Ding ding ding! You, my darling Evil One, may now advance to the bonus round!"

"Just out of curiosity, has Dean displayed any other stalker-like behavior?"

Lorelai's face clouded. "Not that I know of, no."

"What do we do now? Do we tell Rory?"

Her face darkened further. "I didn't think that far ahead. What if we're making too much of this? There could be a perfectly good reason why Dean was outside our house."

He frowned. "If he had a good reason, why didn't he say anything to us? Why did he lie about knowing to come here?"

"Good point. Still, I don't want to upset Rory until we know for sure."

"I think she has a right to know what we're doing, Lorelai. She wouldn't like us investigating him behind her back."

Lorelai looked at him intently. "You know my daughter pretty well, don't you?"

He looked up defiantly. "I know her better than she thinks."

She reached out and touched his shoulder, then said softly, "And I have a feeling she doesn't really know you at all."

Grateful that someone finally understood, he smiled at her. "I'm hoping that changes soon."

"Oh, I think it might. Now come on, we…"

She was interrupted by the doctor approaching them. "Ms. Gilmore? If you'll just come with me and sign some papers, you'll be free to take Rory home."

"Oh, thank you, doctor. Tristan, would you go give Rory the good news?"

"Sure thing."

Returning to her hospital room, he was greeted with the sight of Dean animatedly telling a story, while Rory was clearly struggling to keep her eyes open. This guy is definitely an idiot, he thought.

When Tristan cleared his throat, she looked up at him, and this time he was positive she looked relieved.

"Tristan, hi. Did you find the doctor?"

"Yeah, actually, I did. He's with your mom right now, having her sign your release papers."

She perked up considerably. "I get to go home? Now? Really?"

He chuckled, and perched on the edge of Rory's bed, trying his best to ignore Dean. "Yes. Now. Really. Would I lie to you?"

Dean snorted. "Saint Tristan? Oh no, you'd never lie."

Rory glared at her boyfriend in frustration. "Why can't you be civil to him?"

Groaning, Dean replied, "I don't want to get into this again. Just forget I said anything, okay?"

Lorelai entered the room, towing an orderly with a wheelchair, before Rory could reply. "You're free, sweetie! Free at last!"

"It's only been a couple hours, mom."

"I know that, but do you have any idea how awful the coffee in this place is?"

"The truth comes out! This has nothing to do with wanting to take your beloved daughter home."

Lorelai attempted to look contrite and failed miserably. "Okay, you caught me. To make it up to you, I'll let you have all of the Chunky Monkey when we get home."

"Since you put it that way, I suppose I'll forgive you."

Turning her attention to Dean, Lorelai said, "Thank you for coming all the way out here. I know Rory appreciated it, but now she needs to get some rest. Why don't you stop by tomorrow after school?"

He looked disappointed, but merely nodded. "Okay. I'll just walk you guys out to the car."

Lorelai smiled and turned to Tristan. "It was nice to finally meet you, Oh-Not-So-Evil One. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon. Thank you for taking care of Rory."

"It was my pleasure, really. Would it be all right if I came back to the house for a few minutes? I need to pick up my schoolbooks and things."

"How convenient," sneered Dean.

Ignoring the comment, Lorelai immediately agreed to Tristan's request. "Of course. I wouldn't want El Duque caning you for not having your books."

He grinned. "I appreciate that."

When the trio turned their attention back to Rory, they discovered she was fast asleep.

"Aw, poor kid. This whole ordeal really wore her out." Leaning over the bed, Lorelai gently shook her daughter's shoulder. "Sweetie, wake up. It's time to take you home."

Slowly, Rory opened her eyes. "Sorry," she said, yawning. "I guess I kind of drifting off for a minute."

"That's okay. Can you get into the wheelchair?"

"Yeah, I can manage, mom."

When Rory was comfortably ensconced in the wheelchair, they formed an impromptu procession and headed for the exit. Once outside, Lorelai went to pull the car around, and an awkward silence fell over the three teens. Mercifully, Lorelai was parked nearby, and a few minutes later Rory gave Dean a kiss on the cheek, told Tristan she'd see him back at the house, and settled herself into the Jeep.

Once they were alone, Dean turned to Tristan, pointing an accusing finger at the other boy. "You better watch yourself, DuGrey…"

"Oh spare me. Cut the crap. Why should I watch myself when you're doing it for me?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Lorelai knows, Dean. She knows you were outside the house this afternoon, spying on me and Rory."

Dean began to look panicked. "How?"

"Babette saw you, and told Miss Patty, who told Lorelai."

The other boy's face twisted into a sneer. "I suppose you're going to run right out and tell Rory, try to turn her against me."

"No, actually, I'm not. Lorelai might, though, so I suggest you confess to Rory before that happens."

"Like I'm going to take advice from you," Dean scoffed.

Tristan shrugged. "Do whatever you want, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Yeah, whatever," he said, but Tristan noticed signs of worry on his face.

Tristan stood and watched Dean stalk off in the direction of his truck. Running a hand wearily through his tousled hair, he sighed and headed towards his 'Vette.

* * *

During the drive back to Stars Hollow, Rory had fallen asleep once more. As they pulled up to the house, Lorelai was reluctant to awaken her. Before she had found the willpower to tap her daughter on the shoulder, she noticed headlights pulling up behind her. Sliding out of the Jeep, Lorelai walked back to Tristan's car.

"Wow, you made good time. I didn't think you left the hospital right away."

He grimaced. "I didn't, but I guess I had motivation to make up the time."

"Dean?"

"Yeah. I confronted him about the 'stalking.' I even advised him to tell Rory the truth."

"That was awfully big of you."

"Not really. He didn't believe me anyway."

"But you tried, and that's what will be important to Rory."

He looked stricken. "You're not going to tell her, are you?"

"Sure, why not? I'd think you'd do anything to win points with her."

"That's not why I'm doing this."

Lorelai smiled gently. "I know, Tristan, and that's why she'll appreciate it even more. Now come on, help me get her into the house."

"Sure." The pair approached the Jeep, and when Lorelai opened the door, Tristan scooped her into his arms. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to revel in the feel of her.

She stirred sleepily, then nestled her head deeper into the curve of his chest, exhaling a small, contented puff of air. He felt his heart flutter within his chest, and when he glanced up, saw a small smile tugging at the corners of Lorelai''s mouth. Tristan felt heat rising in his cheeks, and he unconsciously held Rory tighter as he attempted to overcome his embarrassment.

By the time they were inside the house, he had managed to regain his composure. You can do this, he told himself. You're calm; you're cool; you're collected. Well, he was calm, cool, collected…until Rory's eyelids fluttered, and she smiled up at him, her gorgeous blue eyes hazy with sleep. Tristan became so flustered that he almost dropped her onto her bed.

He somehow managed to set her down unharmed, and quickly retreated from the room before she could wake up enough to speak.

Lorelai was sitting on the couch in the living room, obviously waiting for him. She patted the cushion next to her, and he tentatively crossed the room and sat down.

"Don't look so scared, I don't bite. At least, I don't if there's no full moon. There isn't a full moon tonight, is there?"

Feeling more at ease, he smiled. "No, I don't think there is."

She wiped imaginary sweat from her brow. "Phew! That's a relief. First of all, I want to thank you again for taking such good care of her tonight. So many people would have panicked—including me—but you really handled yourself well."

"It was no big deal," he demurred.

"It was to me. Since you took care of her, it's my turn to take care of you. It's late, and I don't want to worry about you driving all the way back to Hartford. You're staying here tonight." Her tone implied that it was neither a request nor a suggestion—it was a command.

"Really, I don't want to impose…"

"Impose? Hah! Imposing is showing up announced only to complain that I don't have a seven-course meal prepared. Driving my daughter around the greater Hartford area in an attempt to prevent her from bleeding to death is not imposing."

"Well, when you put it that way…"

"I do. Now, I'll go get you some pillows and blankets. Do you need to call your parents and let them know you'll be staying?"

He shook his head grimly. "No. That house is so damn big it'll take them hours to even notice I'm gone."

Immediately sympathizing with what his home life must be like, Lorelai pulled him into an impulsive hug. Startled by the affectionate gesture, it took Tristan a moment to relax and return the embrace. He couldn't remember the last time one of his own parents had hugged him. It felt…nice.

Eventually, Lorelai released him. "I know you and Rory aren't exactly best friends, but I honestly don't think she would talk about you so much if she didn't at least care a little. I want you to think of this as your second home. You'll always be welcomed here, if not by Rory then by me, any time of the day or night. I know what it's like to grow up in a cold, huge house that's more museum than home, to have parents that are never satisfied, no matter what you say or do. That's how I ended up with Rory."

"Ms…Lorelai, I know you probably didn't expect your life to take the path it did, but I have to tell you that having Rory in my life means so much to me. So I guess I'm saying thank you for disappointing your parents."

Lorelai felt tears welling up, and soon she found herself laughing and crying simultaneously. "Tristan, I think that's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me." Then she hugged him again, and suddenly he found himself on the verge of tears.

Clearing his throat to disguise the unwanted emotion, he asked gruffly, "Would it be all right if I used your shower?"

"Sure. The towels are in the closet next to the bathroom, which is right down the hall. Oh, do you need me to scrounge up some sweats for you to sleep in?"

"No, I always keep a bag in my car. I, uh, usually jump at the chance to get out of the house."

She raised her eyebrows. "You know first aid and you're prepared? Are you secretly a Boy Scout masquerading as the Evil One?"

He chuckled wryly. "Not quite. It was just easier to learn how to fend for myself than to 'inconvenience' my parents."

"Ah, yes, I learned that lesson well."

With that, they parted ways. As Lorelai pulled pillowcases onto pillows, she reflected that there was much more to Tristan DuGrey than met the eye.

* * *

Lorelai had disappeared, presumably into her bedroom, by the time Tristan returned from his car. After the somewhat emotional exchange they had shared, he had taken a few moments to compose himself.

Shutting himself in the bathroom—but leaving a crack in the door to let the steam out—he turned the shower on full blast. While he waited for the water to heat up, he stripped off his clothes, his muscles protesting his every movement. The stress of the day—his worry over Rory's injury, the confrontations with Dean—had left his back and shoulders in knots. He groaned in relief as he stepped into the tub and allowed the water and steam to envelop him.

Bowing his head, he allowed the needle-like spray to pound into his neck. His eyes drifted shut, and all he could think was, what a day. Who ever would have guessed he would bond with Rory Gilmore's mother?

Wearily, he reached for the soap, and began working it into a rich lather. Absentmindedly, he went through his entire shower routine, then stepped out and toweled off. As he wrapped the towel around his waist, he was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear the door begin to open…

Rory had woken up with a pounding headache and a severe case of disorientation. Once she figured out that she was in her bedroom, she set off in the direction of the bathroom, desperately seeking Advil. In her groggy, addled state, with her eyelids at half-mast, she failed to notice that the light was on…

Her eyes snapped wide open when she pushed in the door and caught sight of Tristan…clad only in a towel. Rivulets of water traced paths down his muscular back, and she gasped at the sight.

At her sharp intake of breath, he spun to face her, and she was treated to even more of an eyeful. The Chilton blazer had never given any indication of a set of washboard abs and clearly defined biceps. Unconsciously, she allowed her eyes to roam up and down his body, drinking in the sight of him. At long last, her eyes met his, and she was shocked back to reality by his bemused expression.

"Do you like what you see?" he murmured huskily.

"I…" Before she could complete her sentence, her eyes glazed over, and she crumpled to the floor…