A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Hope you enjoy the story.

Ch. 2: We Were Children

            Time passed quickly. Soon the DuGreys were celebrating Rory's first birthday, then fifth, and then tenth. In what seemed like the time it takes for a clock to chime twice, twelve years had passed…

            A boy sat silently on a stool, his hand moving swiftly over the propped easel. The only noise is the scratching of charcoal over the white page. The only person in the room was the boy whose face was set in concentration. Sunlight drenched the windows laying gentle waves over the floor. The light was the golden color of the boy's tousled hair. The scene was serene.

            Suddenly, the serenity of the scene was shattered by light but sure footsteps dancing down the hall. A face peered in from the doorway, a face with petite features and framed by chocolate tresses. The large, starry sapphire eyes gazed at the boy, and the girl entered the room, her hands tucked behind her. She looked about twelve.

            As she approached him, she slowly untucked her hands and brought out a lovingly wrapped package, giving it shyly to the boy. He looked at it for a while, then, with contempt on his face, threw it into the nearby garbage bin. After staring sternly at the girl for another moment and gathering his portfolio, he stormed out of the room. And all the while the girl's eyes followed him.

            After standing where she stood for a few seconds, the girl noticed a pair of voices in the outside hallway. After another while, a pair of girls quietly came into the room.

            "Did you give it to him? What was his reaction? What did he say?" the pair urgently asked, words pouring out of their mouths at the speed of light. The girl looked at them with an uneasy light, and slowly lifted her outstretched finger, pointing it at the trash bin. The girls' eyes followed her finger, looking into the bin at their tenderly wrapped package. Then, with a flurry of tears and a heart-wrenching sob, the two girls ran out of the room.

            The girl left in the room quickly sprinted out and to the front door of the building. She cast open the doors, soaking in the bright sunlight.

            "Brother!" she cried out at the boy who had stormed out earlier, "wait for me!" Then, she darted to the bike rack nearby in a hurried motion, and hopped on her bike. The boy was still pedaling hard on his bike, putting much distance between him and the girl. Angrily, the girl started pedaling hard, but unlike the boy, her bike staggered a few drunken steps and fell.

            "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" she yelled as she landed on the pavement. The boy, hearing this noise, stopped, turned his head, and looked in horror. He paled and swiftly abandoned his bike and made his way to his sister.

            "Rory, are you alright? Where are you hurt?" he asked panicked, as he crouched down to examine the girl.

            "Here, on my knee," the girl replied, pointing at the dusty scratch on her kneecap.

            After investigating this cut, the boy said, "Aw, that's only a little scratch, no more than a paper cut. You can still get up on your bike and ride home."

            "No! It's more than a paper cut. See, it's a centimeter longer than a normal paper cut," the girl named Rory explained as she pouted her lips. "Besides, is that how you treat your sister on her birthday, Tristan? I want to sit on your bike home. I'm bound to fall off of mine again."

            The boy called Tristan shook his head slowly, and sighed to the Rory, "Oh, all right. It's your birthday after all. We can pick up the bike tomorrow." With that, he picked up Rory and put her on the back seat of his bike. Then, he pedaled slowly along the road home.

            On the bike, they passed the dipping brooks and emerald meadows of their South Carolina countryside neighborhood. They passed the collection of broken down houses and businesses in the poverty stricken part of town. They passed the glittering ocean and beach, and made their way to the peaceful cottage-like house at the top of a hill. This was their house, the one they had lived in for eleven years.

            "Mom! Dad!" Tristan and Rory yelled as the entered the house, "we're home!"

            Their parents were nowhere to be seen. Tristan told Rory to go up to her room while he looked for their parents. He went looking in every room with no sign of his parents anywhere. Then, he heard murmurs coming from his father's study. He peered into the room, seeing his parents speaking with a woman. His father's face was stern, and his mother was in tears.

            "I will not give my daughter to you!" his mother cried.

What are they talking about? Rory is my only sister. What could this woman want with her? Tristan's face contorted with confusion as his thoughts perplexed him.

"You have to! It is my right as her biological mother!" the strange woman yelled back.

            "No!" His mother gave a grief-stricken reply and sunk into the couch. His father enclosed her in his arms and told her quietly,

            "We must, love. It was stated in the legal papers."

            "No! We have influence in society, we can convince lawyers to argue for us, for our daughter!"

            "No, even our influence cannot help us now."

            "If you are giving up so easily on Rory, then you do not deserve to be her father!"

            "I know. I know," his father said with sadness in his eyes, "but it is the law." Then, speaking to the strange woman, "If you would give us a little time with Rory, we'll give her to you, Lorelei Gilmore."

            The woman nodded and Tristan bolted from the door. He had finally grasped the situation. Rory was to be given away. Rory was going to leave. His little sister Rory…