Title: And So It Is
Author: luv2sk8er, aka Sophia
Summary: One-shot songfic, inspired by the season 2 finale and season 3 beginning. What it's like for Christopher to settle for someone that's not Lorelai.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my CD player and an overactive imagination.
A/N: Though I am a passionate Java Junkie, I rewatched The Haunted Leg and I Can't Get Started, and Lauren Graham's performance in both had such an emotional impact on me that I just had to get this out...at 3 AM. Written in about half an hour, so I'll probably regret this in the morning. Review and I'll love you forever.
Song used is "The Blower's Daughter" by Damien Rice.
And so it is
Just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me
Most of the time
It was Rory's birthday.
Christopher had wanted to drive to Stars Hollow and surprise her, but Sherri had shot that down, saying that she needed for him to be there at Gigi's baptism. He couldn't give a damn about what religion their child was, as long as it didn't involve cults or living sacrifices, but it seemed important to her. It made him a bit suspicious that it happened to fall on the exact date of Rory's nineteenth, but he didn't say anything.
He never did.
And so it is
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her skies
But now, after the oohs and ahhs from Sherri's friends, after the awkward Biblical jokes with the priest, after the uncomfortable suit and tie, after the party his wife insisted on throwing, he sat on the couch at 3 AM with a beer and an old photo album.
He wondered what the hell he was doing. Any sensible person would have closed this chapter in their lives long ago, much less keeping secret momentos.
He'd kept the album hidden well, underneath old sweatshirts and yearbooks from high school. The date on the gilded maroon cover was 1984, but the pictures were fairly recent. A 3 by 5 of Rory and Dean at her first dance. Her seventeenth, eighteenth birthday parties. Her graduation ceremony. Posing in front of a multitude of ivy-covered brick buildings: the Yale admissions office, the dining hall, her dorm.
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off of youI can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...
He smiled through a haze of alcohol-induced fog. He couldn't remember how many times he'd told Rory how proud he was. She'd given him a small, shy smile that he'd latched onto, savored in his mind. Just like before, he told himself, knowing it was a lie.
And so it is
Just like you said it should be
We'll both forget the breeze
Most of the time
Ever since Sookie's wedding, where he'd received the news–by cell phone, no less–that he was going to be a father again, things hadn't been the same with Rory. The initial thrill of maybe having the chance to do it right this time was quickly replaced by the mind-numbing realization that it wasn't with the right person. And when he showed up at the Friday night dinner, Rory, shy, bookish, sweet Rory, had turned on him. She let go of her fantasy father and closed herself, stayed guarded. She was polite out of instinct, but she didn't let herself be vulnerable. She wouldn't let Christopher hurt her again.
Smart girl, he thought bitterly, turning the page.
His heart would've stopped beating if he hadn't already died.
And so it is
The colder water
The blower's daughter
The pupil in denial
God, she was beautiful. She was in a blue tank top and dirty jeans, leaning against a brand-new porch post, her arms crossed in front of her chest. He could tell she thought it was stupid, like some Sears portrait studio–the sparkle in her eye, the slight upturn of her lips gave it away–but she was going along with it anyway. He stared at the cheap color print, mesmerized by her perfectly red lips, the black bra strap peeking out from beneath the sleeve hole, her intense brown eyes that could be seductive, innocent, intelligent, coy, vulnerable, and about a million other things at once.
Was it unfair that he still thought of her as his Lorelai, after all these years?
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...
It unfair to Gigi or Sherri to treat them like a consolation prize, certainly. Like winning a tennis match because the other guy never showed. They deserved better, dammit. Especially Gigi, who had nothing to do with her father's mistakes.
He was bad at loving people. He'd never understood when to let go and settle. Accept. Move on. He still believed in his white picket fence, minivan, golden retriever dream. And now he had it. He was lucky, really, to have a woman who loved him though he was a crappy husband and an even crappier father.
Did I say that I loathe you?
Did I say that I want to
Leave it all behind?
With a sigh, he slid the binder into the cardboard box and shoved it into the hall closet. After chugging the last of his beer, he turned off the light and went upstairs. To sleep next to his wife, who he never loved, and to play doting parent to a child he never wanted.
He wondered idly if you could die from lonliness when you were surrounded by people.
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind...
My mind...my mind...
"Just give it time." Lorelai had said to him that night. He had nodded, throat too tight to speak, before riding off on his motorcycle.
She was in a momentous amount of pain. She should've hated him for screwing it up just when things seemed right for them. For Rory. She wanted it as much as he did, maybe even more.
But she understood.
She always did.