AN: Sorry for such a long wait. I got caught up with school and finals, and whatnot. Again, so sorry.
Pt.6-- She had the heart of a liar...
Rory Gilmore is four years old again. Pigtails and all, she skips happily along the streets of Stars Hollow. Everywhere on the street, she runs into people she knows, has known for as far back as she can remember, greeting her cheerily. Patty reminds her that she is to be the star of the ballet show next week, Taylor informs her that she is to sit on a float at the parade for the something or other festival. She nods pleasantly at them and continues along her way.
She bursts into the Independence Inn, grinning magnificently. She spots her mother at the front desk, her back turned away from the door, speaking on the phone. Rory runs towards her, screaming the word 'mommy' repeatedly. Lorelai slowly puts the phone down and spins around slowly to face her daughter. A smile spreads across her face, and she holds her arms out expectantly, Rory running into them readily.
Held in her mother's tight embrace, Rory still feels an emptiness welling up in her chest. It's growing larger now, and she can hardly breathe. She breaks free and runs back out the door, sprinting down the streets. Her mother is calling her name, but she can hardly hear her. All she knows is she has to find him, and she has to run fast.
She comes to a halting stop at Luke's diner, flinging the door open and skidding along the floor. She's making a spectacle, but that doesn't matter, really.
"Luke!" She screams, trailing him around the diner. He dodges her, trying not to drop the plates he holds in his hands. "Where's Jess? I need to find Jess!" She's panting and frantic now, but nobody seems to take notice.
"Jess who?" Luke replies distractedly, and Rory feels as if she may cry. Her heart is breaking now, and she's growing older by the minute; it's all too much for her to handle. Luke doesn't notice, because he's busy, too busy, and that's when she knows she has to get out.
So she does, out of Luke's and into the streets. Stars Hollow is empty now, yet laden with shadows, and she's fully grown but frightened like a small child. Where is he? Where could he be? She keeps on running, because that's all that she can think to do. The steady pounding of her feet hitting the pavement is a strange comfort to her, and it's all that keeps her from bursting into tears.
She hits the bridge and stops. There he is. She walks toward him slowly, strangely in no hurry now that she can see his face, trying to catch her breath, which is coming out ragged and unevenly. She reaches out to touch him, but he stops her, taking her hand and gently placing it back down by her side. And then he speaks.
"Take me or leave me, Rory. I can't keep doing this." His voice is unnervingly calm.
She looks down at her shoes, confused. She opens her mouth to ask what he means, but she doesn't get the chance.
He is gone.
All that's left is a memory and the feeling that he is embedded in her very skin and soul.
ooo
Rory wakes suddenly, her eyes snapping open. She feels something sliding down her cheek. She reaches her hand out to graze the skin and finds that it is wet. She licks the tips of her fingers, a salty taste flooding her mouth. Again, she has been crying, this time in her sleep.
This does not surprise her, but she is a little alarmed. She never used to cry, only in special circumstances. It seems like every event since her senior year has been a special circumstance.
She's broken and tainted now. She's in the fragile process of a breakdown, and she can feel her pieces crashing down to the floor. (Slowly, they fall, and she thinks that maybe it hurts more this way.)
She can't pinpoint the moment she knew she was falling apart. Maybe when he said he'd call, and she knew he wouldn't. (What was a promise, anyhow?) Maybe the moment she knew she may have loved him, and her heart sank down so far, because she knew then that love wasn't all candy and roses. Maybe it was when she realized he was gone, or maybe when she knew it was impossible for him to leave for good.
It doesn't really matter when it happened. All that matters is that her innocence is gone, and Jess is to blame. (Isn't he always? Everyone knew he was trouble, except naïve little Rory.)
She has the hardest time blaming him when he's lying next to her like this. He's naked and beautiful; raw and exposed. She can see all his scars; they cut much deeper than her own. She rather likes him like this, loving and ready for her. (Though at times, it breaks her heart.) He's comfort now, but not a safety net like Dean was, only there to fall back on.
She moves closer to him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. His skin is smooth and cool and perfect. She lets her eyes flutter shut gently, and an involuntary sigh escapes her lips, while she silently wishes for a hundred moments like this. It's so uncomplicated, a moment where they can just be and be left alone.
She knows it's unrealistic, wanting to be constantly left alone, only sitting blissfully in that far away concept of forever.
She moves her hand to gently grab his, feeling his fingers encompass her own. He does not wake, and it is so silent she can hear him breathe.
This is what she wants, this moment, always.
She knows it's not possible. The sun will come up, a new day will begin, and something will happen that forces them to make a choice. That's how it always goes.
She just wishes that when the time comes, they can choose each other. (She knows this isn't possible either, but she likes to think that the past doesn't have a say in the future.)
She opens her eyes again slowly, and places a soft kiss on his shoulder. Quietly, so as not to disturb him, she slides out of the bed, glancing back at him as she stands up.
He almost looks peaceful, or as peaceful as Jess gets. When she first came here, she used to wake in the middle of the night and just stare at him, trying to comprehend that she was really lying next to him. He had looked so guarded, even in his sleep, and she wondered how he got that way.
But now, he looks almost content. She smiles sadly and thinks that she has never seen him more beautiful.
Soundlessly, she exits the bedroom, wandering around the apartment. She grabs at his old t-shirt she's wearing, trying to smooth out the rumples. It's much too big for her, but she likes it all the same. It smells like him, like cigarettes and soft leather.
She pauses in front of kitchen window, the only one with a decent view of the city. It's so big, so big. And the ground is so far below, she's getting dizzy looking down.
She turns away, hugging herself tightly. She doesn't belong here.
She takes a deep breath and moves toward the phone. She needs to talk to someone, and Lorelai, no matter how strained their relationship has been as of late, has always been the constant source of comfort.
The phone rings a few times, and Rory's almost ready to give up when a groggy voice comes on the line.
"H'llo?"
"Mommy?" she says, and it barely comes out as a whisper.
"Rory? Rory, honey, what's wrong? It's so late." Rory glances at the clock and realizes it's three in the morning.
"Nothing's wrong, I just…I…I had a bad dream." There's a pause, so she continues. "I just needed to talk to you."
"Oh, Rory." Rory frowns. "Babe, you're grown up now. As much as I hate to admit it, you're an adult."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"You're an adult, you have to make your own decisions for your own problems. You can't come running to me every time you have a nightmare."
"Mom…" Her voice cracks, and she thinks she may start crying again.
"No, Rory. You left. You ran off to the city with Jess and cut off all contact with me for weeks. You made a choice, Rory. You have to figure things out from here."
"Mom," she starts again, but pauses. It stings, but she knows her mother's right. "I don't know what I want."
"You have to figure that out on your own." Lorelai's voice was soft and sympathetic. "You have to decide what it's worth. I can't help you, Rory."
"I know," she whispers back. "Mom, I have to…I think I need to go." She doesn't give Lorelai time to reply, but hangs up quickly. She covers her mouth as she sobs, holding back gasps. She leans against the wall and collapses in a slump.
She has to make a choice. She's always been bad at deciding the things that count the most.
She catches her breath and wipes away a few tears. Shaking still, she makes her way back to bed.
She slips in beside him as quietly as she left. He stirs slightly, moving his arm around her. She smiles weakly, sadly.
Take him or leave him.
She didn't know which would break her worse.