Shelter
Flossie
Summary- Two years after leaving Chilton, Tristan comes back to find Rory. She's gone. And the soul reason for Tristan's whole life crumbles away from him
Spoilers- Nothing after Run Away Little Boy.
Rating- PG
Disclaimer- Hopefully once the papers come in, I will officially own Chad Michael Murray. But thanks to the slow postal service, I've been forced to wait. Also- the beginning is stolen from a song "Unwell" matchbox 20
Author's Note- I do realise this is a sickeningly short chapter. Don't harass me- this has taken a lot of energy saved for the s&e assignment due tomorrow morning. Be proud I chose this fic. I'm not giving anything away- but this fic *sigh* is coming to an end- only because I don't have the time anymore. Please- I know I say it every time- but I really need reviews this time- cos I'm not sure this'll ever get done if I don't have some feedback. Love you all!
*last chapter had major funny things going on- all the text was squ-wiff and I hope its worked the second time-if any of you know how to fix it- please tell, cos its hard to read.
*I posted this chapter without clicking on the "web" thing. It went all crazy- forgive me!
… ………… ………… ………………………………………… ………… ………… …
All night, hearing voices telling me that I should get some sleep...'cos tomorrow might be good for something…
Somehow Rory managed to sleep that night.
She could remember a time when she was afraid of sleeping, not because of death, and not because she felt so crappy that she felt she should be. But of life.
How she could look back and feel as though life wasn't worth living- and knowing that by the morning she would rather everything was gone- seemed so stupid. And selfish now.
The actual feeling to roll over in bed- and to feel your ribs against the bed-clothes. It scared her.
It scared her more than anything- because unlike the chemo, or the drugs, it was something she had never expected she would have to put herself through- it scared her more than the loss of her hair- or when the needle went in, and the nurses told her "It's only going to sting."
There was one thing Rory ever learnt about hospitals in her two years of practically living there.
It never only stings.
For the first time in almost two years, Rory realised, lying in bed that night, she was actually excited to wake up tomorrow. She giggled a little to herself, how can everything be so different?
She'd never forget the look on Lorelai's face when the phone actually began ringing.
"Rory", she whispered, "it's ringing!"
"Phones tend to do that mom."
Five minutes later Lorelai proudly reported she'd had a very productive and painless conversation with his answering machine, and that he'd ring if he couldn't make it to Hartford before tomorrow morning.
And somehow, Rory managed to sleep that night. She managed to look in the mirror that morning. And smile.
And she managed to get dressed, eat breakfast.
And smile.
Lorelai watched her from the door. She wished she had called him ages ago.
But it was no use dwelling on that sort of thing now. Because in a matter of hours, she would be facing the person that she wished she would never have to explain herself to. That was never in the plan. Luke never had to be part of the plan. Even when there wasn't a plan, no-one was supposed to get hurt.
And he did, and she didn't want to do that again.
Because even then, she knew she should never have put him through so much pain. And at the same time, herself.
… ………… ………… ………………………………………… ………… ………… …
Somehow Tristan managed to sleep that night.
And it wasn't because he had been drinking.
That night everything came into perspective.
What he had been doing, going around aimlessly, convincing himself he was doing something, convincing himself everything he thought he needed to hear.
And when he finally thinks he's actually got a life, she's ruining it for him again. He begins to want to hate her- to block her out of his mind so he can get on with his insignificant little life. But he knew, if he didn't do something, he was going to end up like he was now. Alone. He remembers thinking that before he came to Hartford to the funeral. He was so happy- he was going to get himself together. Nothings changed. That's what pisses him off the most. That he hasn't gotten anywhere in the last few months. He's exactly where he was before.
For some reason he works everything out that night.
He makes decisions he wished he never had to make.
And it wasn't because he had been drinking.
Well, I'm just a little unwell
How I used to be
How I used to be
I'm just a little unwell
… ………… ………… ………………………………………… ………… ………… …
Chapter 11
Something
