Disclaimer : The plot is mine. It is, really. However, the characters
aren't and neither is Stars Hollow. Those belong to the magnificent ASP.
Feedback : Thanks for your comments, people. I appreciate it so much.
Wow, it's been a long time since I've updated this story. I was going through my stories last night to decide which to update next and realized I hadn't written anything for this since October. Pathetic, I say. So here's my lame offering of the next chapter..
Your Faith In Me
Chapter Eight
To be completely honest, Tristan didn't sleep one wink that night. His thoughts kept drifting from his newborn child to Rory, lying broken in her hospital bed. The images of Caitlin made him smile, the images of Rory made him cry. After tossing and turning for hours, he finally gave up and went to shower. The warm water heightened his senses and he stepped out much more alert and awake then he had been going in. Wrapping one of the large fluffy towels, complete with his name embroidered on it, around his taut waist, he padded back into the room he'd grown up in and collapsed back onto the bed. He laid there for awhile, staring at the ceiling, contemplating all of the events that led up to this moment. It was bizarre, the turns his life had taken recently. He was so lost in his thoughts, the shrill sounds of his alarm clock going off scared him half to death. Groaning, he hit the off button and got up to get dressed.
******
When Rory awoke that morning, she felt lost. The room was empty and for the life of her, she couldn't remember why she was here and why there was a large, intrusive cast secured around her arm. Yawning, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, wincing in pain when her hand came into contact with the large bruise that covered one side of her face. Reaching up to smooth her hair down, she was surprised to have met a thick wrapping of bandages around her head. Frowning, she came to the conclusion that she had been in some sort of accident, but it hurt her head too much to try and remember what the exact string of events were. Pushing herself into a sitting position, as best as she could with one arm, she let her gaze wander around the room. It was cool and sterile, machines beeping all around her. The lights were off, but a thin stream of sunlight was peaking through the small opening in the curtains. Off to the side was a large bouquet of flowers, all bright in color, and a sign proclaiming for her to get well soon. Squinting, she made out who it was from, the staff of the Hartford Chronicle, where she was currently employed and she smiled slightly. Of course it was from them, only the nut cases over there would send such a large and outrageous bunch of flowers. She was startled out of that thought when the door opened, revealing her mother standing there, with a styrofoam coffee cup in her hand. She smiled when she saw that she was awake.
"How you feeling, babe?" Lorelai asked as she entered the room.
Rory shrugged. "I'd feel better if I knew how I got here."
Lorelai seemed to tense up at that, debating with herself. On one hand, the doctor had said to inform Rory of anything she couldn't remember, but on the other, the mother part of her that wanted to keep her children away from any hurt and pain, didn't want to reveal the horrible thing that had brought them to this place. However, it would probably be better if she heard it from her and not the police, who would be in that afternoon to speak with her. "Yeah, about that..."
"What happened, Mom?" Rory asked firmly.
Sighing, Lorelai settled down on the bed next to her daughter, taking her hand into hers. "I'm not exactly sure how to tell you this.."
"Just tell me, please."
"I'm trying, sweetie. It's just hard for me to have to tell you these things."
Rory nodded her head, her face paling the slightest bit. "Just try."
Lorelai closed her eyes for a second, collecting her thoughts. "You were brought in yesterday. Your father, brother and I came over to talk to you but there was no answer. Adam saw some blood on the door and with what's happened in the past,"
"What's happened in the past?" Rory interrupted, confusion on her face.
"You don't remember." Lorelai sighed, more of a statement then a question.
"Remember what? Mom, please, tell me."
Fighting to hold her tears at bay, Lorelai squeezed her daughters hand for a moment. "Your.. husband," she started, spitting out the word husband with extreme hatred, "for the past seven or eight months.. he's been hurting you."
"Hurting me?" Rory asked, her voice almost inaudible.
Lorelai nodded, a few wet droplets escaping her eyes. "Physically.. hurting you. He has a drinking problem and you wouldn't go to the police.."
Rory's blue eyes looked empty, void of any type of emotion, her face seeming as if she were a million light years away. She was quiet for a second, wracking her mind for any recollection of what her mother had said. Dark images, as if she were seeing them through a haze, played through her head. Suddenly her gaze snapped back over to Lorelai, who was watching her worriedly. "I was going to leave him," she finally said softly. "His drinking had been getting worse, even though he promised to stop. So I was going to leave him while he was at work, but he came home early." She paused, choking back a sob. "I was packing my bags when he came into the bedroom and he wanted to know what I was doing. I told him I was leaving, that I couldn't take it anymore. He got really angry, saying that I was his wife, that I couldn't just leave him, we were married. He grabbed my arm," again Rory paused, glancing down at her broken arm, "and twisted it behind my back. I heard it break, it was this loud, sickening sound and it hurt so much and I remember trying to get away from him, I hit him, I know I did. But it just made him angrier and he threw me on the ground and I hit my head on the nightstand..."
Lorelai wrapped her arm around her daughter, wiping the tears that had begun to escape her eyes a few seconds into her story. Rory, pausing in her retelling of the events that had landed her here, scooted down, resting her bandaged head in her mothers lap. Lorelai lovingly stroked her back, urging her to go on.
"He kept hitting me, shaking my shoulders, yelling that he wasn't going to let me leave, that the only way I was getting out of that house was in a casket. I was so scared that he was going to kill me, his fists kept hitting my head, my body. When I tried to get up to run, he hit me in the head with the lamp... that's all I remember." Rory finished, looking up to see her mothers face dissolved in tears.
Lorelai didn't respond right away, just hugged her daughter closer to her, murmuring words of comfort and love as she rocked the two of them back and forth. And that's just how Christopher found them, when he arrived ten minutes later.
******
Tristan came jogging down the stairs later that day, intent on heading to the hospital. This plan came to a screeching halt as he ran right into his father, who was, it seemed, waiting for him in the foyer of the large estate.
"Tristan, my office, now."
Sighing, he followed his father, as requested, into the large room that served as his fathers home office. The decor was dark wood, outlined with a dark green. His father sat proudly at his desk, motioning for his son to sit. Tristan did so, surpressing the need to roll his eyes.
"I understand that Madeline gave birth to a daughter yesterday."
"Glad you noticed." Tristan muttered.
"What was that?" Andrew DuGrey asked, raising an eyebrow in question.
"Nothing."
"Now, I would like to speak about the proper way to go about raising this child."
Tristan almost laughed out loud. His father was going to explain to him how to raise a kid? "What, leave it at home with a nanny while you go out and sleep with your secretary?"
Andrew narrowed his eyes. "Tristan, I do not appreciate your sarcasm."
Rolling his eyes, Tristan shifted in the chair. "Well, excuse me, Father . I just find it rather amusing that you, of all people, are going to give me tips on how to raise my daughter. Who, by the way has a name. Stop calling her 'that child'."
"What are you trying to say?" Andrew demanded, rising to his full height.
Tristan stood as well, leaning over his fathers desk, glaring at him. "I think you know what I mean. Even if I'm not the best father the world has ever seen, I'll still better then you ever were." He shot at him, before straightening up. "Excuse me, I have to get to the hospital." And with that, he turned on his heel and stalked out the door, leaving his father fuming.
******
"Bye," Rory echoed as she watched the two detectives who had just finished questioning her exited the room. Her head was beginning to throb again and she really wanted the doctor to appear to give her some more painkillers. Laying back on the pillow, she let her mind wander.. she remembered what had put her in the hospital, the horrifying fight she and Michael had had.. but anything more then that was fuzzy. She knew, from her mother and the man who she didn't remember, but had been introduced to her as her father, that she had been married for just about two years to a man she had met while attending Harvard. Apparently this wasn't the first time it had happened, far from it. She halfheartedly wondered why she had stayed with a man who drank and had abusive tendencies towards her, but couldn't remember for the life of her. Her thoughts were pushed aside when the door opened to a blonde woman, peering in at her.
"Good, you're up," the woman said, slipping inside the room.
Rory stared at her quizzically. "Um, hi."
The woman's face softened as she sat down in the chair next to the bed. "Your mom said you might not remember me. I'm a friend of yours. Paris."
Taking a moment to roll the somewhat familiar name around in her head, an image of the two, much younger, bickering back and forth while wearing what she remembered as her high school uniform, appeared. A smile formed on her lips and her blue eyes flickered with recognition. "Paris," she reaffirmed. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you think," Paris scoffed, picking at an imaginary piece of lint on her pants. "I'm here to see you."
"Lucky me."
"Watch it, I could just leave and go visit Madeline."
"Madeline?" Rory questioned, a part of her beginning to feel extremely aggravated. Obviously, with the familiar way Paris had mentioned her, she knew this person, but she was starting to feel dumb, not being able to remember people she should.
"She went to high school with us. She had a baby last night."
"Oh," Rory mumbled, a vague male voice saying something about Madeline in her head. What the hell did that mean?
******
Tristan gazed down at the sleeping infant in his arms, a goofy grin on his face. This was amazing. It was scary as hell, he'd be the first to admit that, but it was so incredible. He had created this, this tiny, perfect being. The feeling was indescribable.
"She's beautiful," a female voice commented from behind.
He turned to see Paris approaching, stopping when she was standing next to him. He smirked at her. "Did you expect any less? I mean, she is my daughter."
Paris rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Some things never change."
"Aw, c'mon, admit it Gellar, you love it."
"Keep telling yourself that, DuGrey." Paris rebuked, though her expression was anything but harsh as she gently touched the newborns fine baby hair.
"She is beautiful though, isn't she?"
"She is," Paris agreed, stepping back so he could place baby Caitlin in the nursery bed.
Tristan, as if by natural instinct, bent down and placed a kiss his daughters forehead before leading Paris out of the room. The two old friends walked in silence, heading downstairs to the cafeteria. After purchasing drinks, they sat comfortably across from each other at a table. Taking a sip of his water, he glanced over at her. "So, how's Rory doing?" He asked, trying his hardest to sound nonchalant about it. But as she always had, she saw right through it.
"She's awake.. there's a lot she has problems remembering, but I think she'll be okay."
"Good, I'm glad."
Paris paused, a thoughtful expression on her face. "You know, I bet she wouldn't object to getting a visit from you. Especially now, since she can't remember what a jerk you were to her in high school."
Tristan scowled at her. "I wasn't that bad."
"Oh, please."
"Okay, maybe I was an asshole," he conceded. "But I liked her and she didn't like me. I didn't know how to deal with that."
"You liked her? Give me some credit, DuGrey. I know you're still pining for her. Pathetic."
"I'm not pining for anyone," Tristan protested half heartedly.
"Then why are you so worried about how she's doing?" Paris asked knowingly.
"Because I'm a sympathetic being."
Paris laughed out loud at that. "Right."
Tristan sighed and shook his head. "Fine, so maybe I still have feelings for her. But I am not and have never been pining for her."
"Whatever you say," Paris said, getting up. "I promised her I'd drop by again before I left. You coming?"
It wasn't even a full second before Tristan was on his feet and dragging her out of the cafeteria, heading towards the elevators.
******
Seemed like an okay place to stop for now. It won't everrr be that long before I update again. I don't know what the hell took me so long. Sorry!
-- Shay
ooh, and before I forget, everyone go join the GG fanfic fanlisting! www.after-tonight.net/hope ! Pleeease? :)
Feedback : Thanks for your comments, people. I appreciate it so much.
Wow, it's been a long time since I've updated this story. I was going through my stories last night to decide which to update next and realized I hadn't written anything for this since October. Pathetic, I say. So here's my lame offering of the next chapter..
Chapter Eight
To be completely honest, Tristan didn't sleep one wink that night. His thoughts kept drifting from his newborn child to Rory, lying broken in her hospital bed. The images of Caitlin made him smile, the images of Rory made him cry. After tossing and turning for hours, he finally gave up and went to shower. The warm water heightened his senses and he stepped out much more alert and awake then he had been going in. Wrapping one of the large fluffy towels, complete with his name embroidered on it, around his taut waist, he padded back into the room he'd grown up in and collapsed back onto the bed. He laid there for awhile, staring at the ceiling, contemplating all of the events that led up to this moment. It was bizarre, the turns his life had taken recently. He was so lost in his thoughts, the shrill sounds of his alarm clock going off scared him half to death. Groaning, he hit the off button and got up to get dressed.
******
When Rory awoke that morning, she felt lost. The room was empty and for the life of her, she couldn't remember why she was here and why there was a large, intrusive cast secured around her arm. Yawning, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, wincing in pain when her hand came into contact with the large bruise that covered one side of her face. Reaching up to smooth her hair down, she was surprised to have met a thick wrapping of bandages around her head. Frowning, she came to the conclusion that she had been in some sort of accident, but it hurt her head too much to try and remember what the exact string of events were. Pushing herself into a sitting position, as best as she could with one arm, she let her gaze wander around the room. It was cool and sterile, machines beeping all around her. The lights were off, but a thin stream of sunlight was peaking through the small opening in the curtains. Off to the side was a large bouquet of flowers, all bright in color, and a sign proclaiming for her to get well soon. Squinting, she made out who it was from, the staff of the Hartford Chronicle, where she was currently employed and she smiled slightly. Of course it was from them, only the nut cases over there would send such a large and outrageous bunch of flowers. She was startled out of that thought when the door opened, revealing her mother standing there, with a styrofoam coffee cup in her hand. She smiled when she saw that she was awake.
"How you feeling, babe?" Lorelai asked as she entered the room.
Rory shrugged. "I'd feel better if I knew how I got here."
Lorelai seemed to tense up at that, debating with herself. On one hand, the doctor had said to inform Rory of anything she couldn't remember, but on the other, the mother part of her that wanted to keep her children away from any hurt and pain, didn't want to reveal the horrible thing that had brought them to this place. However, it would probably be better if she heard it from her and not the police, who would be in that afternoon to speak with her. "Yeah, about that..."
"What happened, Mom?" Rory asked firmly.
Sighing, Lorelai settled down on the bed next to her daughter, taking her hand into hers. "I'm not exactly sure how to tell you this.."
"Just tell me, please."
"I'm trying, sweetie. It's just hard for me to have to tell you these things."
Rory nodded her head, her face paling the slightest bit. "Just try."
Lorelai closed her eyes for a second, collecting her thoughts. "You were brought in yesterday. Your father, brother and I came over to talk to you but there was no answer. Adam saw some blood on the door and with what's happened in the past,"
"What's happened in the past?" Rory interrupted, confusion on her face.
"You don't remember." Lorelai sighed, more of a statement then a question.
"Remember what? Mom, please, tell me."
Fighting to hold her tears at bay, Lorelai squeezed her daughters hand for a moment. "Your.. husband," she started, spitting out the word husband with extreme hatred, "for the past seven or eight months.. he's been hurting you."
"Hurting me?" Rory asked, her voice almost inaudible.
Lorelai nodded, a few wet droplets escaping her eyes. "Physically.. hurting you. He has a drinking problem and you wouldn't go to the police.."
Rory's blue eyes looked empty, void of any type of emotion, her face seeming as if she were a million light years away. She was quiet for a second, wracking her mind for any recollection of what her mother had said. Dark images, as if she were seeing them through a haze, played through her head. Suddenly her gaze snapped back over to Lorelai, who was watching her worriedly. "I was going to leave him," she finally said softly. "His drinking had been getting worse, even though he promised to stop. So I was going to leave him while he was at work, but he came home early." She paused, choking back a sob. "I was packing my bags when he came into the bedroom and he wanted to know what I was doing. I told him I was leaving, that I couldn't take it anymore. He got really angry, saying that I was his wife, that I couldn't just leave him, we were married. He grabbed my arm," again Rory paused, glancing down at her broken arm, "and twisted it behind my back. I heard it break, it was this loud, sickening sound and it hurt so much and I remember trying to get away from him, I hit him, I know I did. But it just made him angrier and he threw me on the ground and I hit my head on the nightstand..."
Lorelai wrapped her arm around her daughter, wiping the tears that had begun to escape her eyes a few seconds into her story. Rory, pausing in her retelling of the events that had landed her here, scooted down, resting her bandaged head in her mothers lap. Lorelai lovingly stroked her back, urging her to go on.
"He kept hitting me, shaking my shoulders, yelling that he wasn't going to let me leave, that the only way I was getting out of that house was in a casket. I was so scared that he was going to kill me, his fists kept hitting my head, my body. When I tried to get up to run, he hit me in the head with the lamp... that's all I remember." Rory finished, looking up to see her mothers face dissolved in tears.
Lorelai didn't respond right away, just hugged her daughter closer to her, murmuring words of comfort and love as she rocked the two of them back and forth. And that's just how Christopher found them, when he arrived ten minutes later.
******
Tristan came jogging down the stairs later that day, intent on heading to the hospital. This plan came to a screeching halt as he ran right into his father, who was, it seemed, waiting for him in the foyer of the large estate.
"Tristan, my office, now."
Sighing, he followed his father, as requested, into the large room that served as his fathers home office. The decor was dark wood, outlined with a dark green. His father sat proudly at his desk, motioning for his son to sit. Tristan did so, surpressing the need to roll his eyes.
"I understand that Madeline gave birth to a daughter yesterday."
"Glad you noticed." Tristan muttered.
"What was that?" Andrew DuGrey asked, raising an eyebrow in question.
"Nothing."
"Now, I would like to speak about the proper way to go about raising this child."
Tristan almost laughed out loud. His father was going to explain to him how to raise a kid? "What, leave it at home with a nanny while you go out and sleep with your secretary?"
Andrew narrowed his eyes. "Tristan, I do not appreciate your sarcasm."
Rolling his eyes, Tristan shifted in the chair. "Well, excuse me, Father . I just find it rather amusing that you, of all people, are going to give me tips on how to raise my daughter. Who, by the way has a name. Stop calling her 'that child'."
"What are you trying to say?" Andrew demanded, rising to his full height.
Tristan stood as well, leaning over his fathers desk, glaring at him. "I think you know what I mean. Even if I'm not the best father the world has ever seen, I'll still better then you ever were." He shot at him, before straightening up. "Excuse me, I have to get to the hospital." And with that, he turned on his heel and stalked out the door, leaving his father fuming.
******
"Bye," Rory echoed as she watched the two detectives who had just finished questioning her exited the room. Her head was beginning to throb again and she really wanted the doctor to appear to give her some more painkillers. Laying back on the pillow, she let her mind wander.. she remembered what had put her in the hospital, the horrifying fight she and Michael had had.. but anything more then that was fuzzy. She knew, from her mother and the man who she didn't remember, but had been introduced to her as her father, that she had been married for just about two years to a man she had met while attending Harvard. Apparently this wasn't the first time it had happened, far from it. She halfheartedly wondered why she had stayed with a man who drank and had abusive tendencies towards her, but couldn't remember for the life of her. Her thoughts were pushed aside when the door opened to a blonde woman, peering in at her.
"Good, you're up," the woman said, slipping inside the room.
Rory stared at her quizzically. "Um, hi."
The woman's face softened as she sat down in the chair next to the bed. "Your mom said you might not remember me. I'm a friend of yours. Paris."
Taking a moment to roll the somewhat familiar name around in her head, an image of the two, much younger, bickering back and forth while wearing what she remembered as her high school uniform, appeared. A smile formed on her lips and her blue eyes flickered with recognition. "Paris," she reaffirmed. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you think," Paris scoffed, picking at an imaginary piece of lint on her pants. "I'm here to see you."
"Lucky me."
"Watch it, I could just leave and go visit Madeline."
"Madeline?" Rory questioned, a part of her beginning to feel extremely aggravated. Obviously, with the familiar way Paris had mentioned her, she knew this person, but she was starting to feel dumb, not being able to remember people she should.
"She went to high school with us. She had a baby last night."
"Oh," Rory mumbled, a vague male voice saying something about Madeline in her head. What the hell did that mean?
******
Tristan gazed down at the sleeping infant in his arms, a goofy grin on his face. This was amazing. It was scary as hell, he'd be the first to admit that, but it was so incredible. He had created this, this tiny, perfect being. The feeling was indescribable.
"She's beautiful," a female voice commented from behind.
He turned to see Paris approaching, stopping when she was standing next to him. He smirked at her. "Did you expect any less? I mean, she is my daughter."
Paris rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Some things never change."
"Aw, c'mon, admit it Gellar, you love it."
"Keep telling yourself that, DuGrey." Paris rebuked, though her expression was anything but harsh as she gently touched the newborns fine baby hair.
"She is beautiful though, isn't she?"
"She is," Paris agreed, stepping back so he could place baby Caitlin in the nursery bed.
Tristan, as if by natural instinct, bent down and placed a kiss his daughters forehead before leading Paris out of the room. The two old friends walked in silence, heading downstairs to the cafeteria. After purchasing drinks, they sat comfortably across from each other at a table. Taking a sip of his water, he glanced over at her. "So, how's Rory doing?" He asked, trying his hardest to sound nonchalant about it. But as she always had, she saw right through it.
"She's awake.. there's a lot she has problems remembering, but I think she'll be okay."
"Good, I'm glad."
Paris paused, a thoughtful expression on her face. "You know, I bet she wouldn't object to getting a visit from you. Especially now, since she can't remember what a jerk you were to her in high school."
Tristan scowled at her. "I wasn't that bad."
"Oh, please."
"Okay, maybe I was an asshole," he conceded. "But I liked her and she didn't like me. I didn't know how to deal with that."
"You liked her? Give me some credit, DuGrey. I know you're still pining for her. Pathetic."
"I'm not pining for anyone," Tristan protested half heartedly.
"Then why are you so worried about how she's doing?" Paris asked knowingly.
"Because I'm a sympathetic being."
Paris laughed out loud at that. "Right."
Tristan sighed and shook his head. "Fine, so maybe I still have feelings for her. But I am not and have never been pining for her."
"Whatever you say," Paris said, getting up. "I promised her I'd drop by again before I left. You coming?"
It wasn't even a full second before Tristan was on his feet and dragging her out of the cafeteria, heading towards the elevators.
******
Seemed like an okay place to stop for now. It won't everrr be that long before I update again. I don't know what the hell took me so long. Sorry!
-- Shay
ooh, and before I forget, everyone go join the GG fanfic fanlisting! www.after-tonight.net/hope ! Pleeease? :)