AN: Back again—with another installment. A bit longer, hope you all enjoy.
He smiled as he turned the corner, catching a glimpse of her. She stood in front of her open locker, switching out books for the next period. She pulled some lip gloss from it first, the only make-up she usually wore, and applied a fresh coat before grabbing the next books she'd need.
He came behind her, slipping his arms around her waist. She normally startled very easily, but she'd grown accustomed to his sneak attacks. She hadn't expected this particular visit; their post-lunch classes were on opposite ends of the campus. Normally, he walked her to her last class, but rarely did she see him at this time.
"Hey, where are your books?"
"Don't need 'em," he replied, taking hers from her hands and returning them to their places in her locker.
"Tristan, I kind of need those."
"No, you don't."
"Because I've become omniscient?"
"Because we're taking a field trip."
She narrowed her eyes at him. He knew getting her to agree would be the trick—she actually enjoyed school. He shuddered at the thought, and pressed on.
"Rory, it's after Spring Break in our senior year."
"Is this your argument? This is supposed to be convincing me to ditch?"
"Our high school education is complete. We've been accepted into Yale. You've missed ten whole minutes of school, ever. You literally could not show up for the next two months, and you'd still be at the top of our class."
She looked at him in amusement, but she was still not quite on board.
He saw this. Giving her his best puppy-dog look, he tried again. "Please?"
She sighed.
He nodded, holding up his hands. "Okay, I didn't want to have to resort to this. I was hoping my charm would be enough to convince you, but clearly, I'm going to have to use the big guns."
She rolled her eyes as he pulled her in closer to him, pressing her back into the row of lockers.
"We're in public," she warned.
"You owe me—going off to Europe all summer with Lorelai."
She bit the inside of her cheek, feeling the twinge of guilt well up inside her. She knew he hated the fact that she was going, all summer and without him, even though he'd taken the official news of their now-planned trip rather well. After all, they'd been planning on this since Rory was in diapers—just mother and daughter backpacking around Europe. It was their goal. And he'd been to Europe.
She still felt guilty.
"Where would we go?" she caved.
He smiled and grabbed her hand as the warning bell sounded. They headed for his car, him giving her no more information about their spur-of-the-moment ditch day.
The memory washed over him clearly as he cradled her body in his arms. They'd been so carefree then, him pulling her into the moment. Sometime after that it'd all changed, gloriously unbeknownst to them.
He had no concept of her level of exhaustion. She had passed out in his arms, having cried herself out. He continued to hold her, his mind wrapping around the whole of the situation. He knew what he had to do next. He looked down at the woman in his arms, and he ached for her. They might have had a child together, had the accident not happened. Or so he assumed. He couldn't imagine Rory not going through with the pregnancy. It's not like she would have been alone in the venture. She would have had him, her mom, his entire family—they would have been okay. He knew that much.
It was just surreal to try to think about.
He tried to slip down, pulling her with him so she would be lying down on the bed, and not sitting up against his chest. He needed to talk to his grandfather, and let her sleep. She stirred for a moment, but her sleep held and he covered her up, brushing his lips over her forehead before exiting the room.
Janlan looked up when he heard a solitary set of footsteps heading across the room.
"Tristan, good morning."
"Morning."
"How was Boston?"
Tristan shrugged. "Same as always."
Janlan cleared his throat. "She was upset, I couldn't send her home."
"I'm glad you didn't. We needed to talk."
"So she said."
"I'm going to need to go out for a bit. Will you ask her to wait for me, if she gets up again?" Tristan asked, picking up his jacket and rifling through the pockets for his keys.
"Slow down, sit."
Tristan did as his grandfather instructed, mainly out of habit. He dropped his jacket and sat across from the older man at the breakfast table.
"What happened?"
Tristan looked at him for a beat, then let out a breath. "She was pregnant."
Janlan's eyes widened in momentary surprise. He pulled his fingers down over his mouth, and then nodded. "Well, that makes more sense," he managed.
"Do not do that."
"Tristan, calm down. I know you're upset," he tried to soothe him.
"No, nothing makes what she did okay. Nothing. Do not justify that horrible woman's actions to me."
"I'm just saying that she had to be plenty spooked at the time, and that was what must have sent her over the edge, that's all."
Tristan nodded. "She knew, and she didn't see fit to tell me. She came to me when she knew Lorelai wouldn't be around, and scared me off. Then she let Rory believe that I knew and didn't care!"
Janlan watched his grandson explode, his nerves frayed. "And where exactly are you planning on going now?"
"You know where I'm going."
"That's not a smart idea. It's in the past, it's done."
"I don't care."
"You don't care that Rory tells you all this, then finds you gone again when she wakes up?"
"I won't be long. I don't plan on sticking around to listen to her side."
"Tristan," Janlan sighed, realizing he would be unable to talk his grandson out of this. "Fine. I'll have a tray brought up to her, and I'll sit with her."
"Don't let her leave," he instructed, his voice pleading.
Janlan nodded silently, watching as Tristan grabbed his jacket again and disappeared towards the garage.
xxxx
"I'll get it!" the refined voice rang out.
Richard opened the front door on the way from his study, surprised to see Tristan on the doorstep. He looked at him as if he were seeing a ghost.
"Tristan, this is a surprise."
"Is Emily here?" His jaw was set, no trace of good will on his face. This obviously was not a social call.
"Richard, who is it? Is it Rory?" she asked hopefully, stopping short when she saw the two men in the doorway. "My word, what are you doing here?"
Tristan stepped past Richard, advancing on Emily. He stopped just short of her and lowered his voice. "Do you realize what you did?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You know damn well what I'm talking about! She was pregnant, Emily, and you knew it. You knew it, and you lied to my face!"
"I will not have you talking to my wife like that! You'll be a man, and address your issues with me," Richard said, stepping between them.
"Funny, maybe if you'd been a man at the time, none of this would have happened. You knew Rory wanted me in there, and you still let her tell her lies!" Tristan turned on Richard.
"Have you spoken with Rory?" Emily asked, still trying for information.
"That's none of your concern," he shook his head, holding his hand up between himself and her. "None of this was your concern," he added.
"She is my concern, she's my granddaughter! You were going to ruin her life, her future—you would have gotten her pregnant again!"
"Our lives were ruined only because of what you did. Can you comprehend what these years apart have been like for us? Knowing every single minute of the last nine years that if just one second had been different," he paused, not wanting to break down in front of this woman. She didn't deserve the satisfaction.
"Is she going to talk to us again?"
"Not if she's smart," he said. "I know she's forgiving, but ask yourself this, do you really think she can forgive you for the last nine years? For every time you saw her and didn't tell her the truth?"
Emily was quiet, crossing her arms over her chest. Richard looked from Tristan to his wife, his face falling.
"I didn't think so," he huffed, turning to let himself out the door.
xxxx
She woke again, this time to an empty expanse of white linens. He was gone again, as if she'd only dreamed his presence earlier. She had gone to bed here alone, at peace just knowing he would return.
Peace wasn't what she was feeling now.
A knock came at the door, and she hoped it was him, just being polite. She should have known better, they were beyond polite. They were beyond everything.
"Come in," she called, pulling the sheet up over her.
Janlan entered, followed by a maid with a bed tray. "Thought you might like some food."
She nodded gratefully, and the maid set the tray down over Rory's lap. Janlan sat in an armchair in the corner of the room. She looked down at the wonderful spread that he'd had prepared for her, but didn't touch it.
"You're not hungry?"
"Not really."
"You should eat. He'll be back shortly."
She breathed a sigh of relief. "He will?"
"He wanted me to bar the door if you tried to leave," Janlan smiled. "He'll be back."
"Good," she breathed, picking up her fork and raking it over her eggs aimlessly. "Did he tell you?"
He looked at her anxious gaze, and nodded. "He did."
"I'm sorry."
"There's no need for that."
"It must have disappointed you."
He smiled at her kindly, with a wistful look on his face. "I have every faith that you two would have handled it. You wouldn't have been alone in the matter—and besides, I can't say that Tristan's father was all that planned, either."
Her eyes widened, as if the idea of someone from his generation would have been so scandalous. "What?"
"Accidents happen, even with the best of intentions."
"I suppose so," she nodded, "Where did he go?"
"I should let him tell you that."
She looked back up at Janlan, his tone spoke of trouble. She couldn't imagine where he'd have to run off to at a time like this—other than to think. He liked to drive to clear his head, with the music blaring to block out the rest of the world. And perhaps to warn unwilling victims to steer clear of his path.
He'd barely pulled his car to a stop before backing up quickly and squealing his tires on her road, his music pounding so hard that all the houses on her block resonated with the beat.
He hadn't been meant to see this.
If she'd known that either her ex-boyfriend would pick this afternoon to return the somehow large amount of stuff he'd managed to collect of hers in the past three months, or that Tristan would pick this day to surprise her with an after school visit, well, maybe this ugly scene could have been avoided.
"Was that who I think it was?" Dean asked, clearly not thrilled.
"Oh my God," she buried her face into her hands. "This isn't happening."
Of course, Tristan probably wouldn't have taken off so fast if only Dean hadn't been trying to hug her. He was sorry, for freaking out, and he wanted to give her another chance like she'd asked for the night they broke up. He'd been thinking about it, and he loved her enough to give her time.
She hadn't needed time; being with him just wasn't what she wanted. And she was in the process of telling him that, not to mention pushing him away, when Tristan's car pulled into her driveway.
"Why would you want to be with that jerk?"
"Dean, thanks for my stuff, but I have to go," she said, turning and running into the house to pick up the phone. She dialed his cell number, getting only his voicemail, time after time. He had his music up way too loud to hear anything else. She groaned.
"Mom!"
"Rory?"
Rory ran upstairs, to where the voice had answered her from. She found her mother in her bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet lid, while propping her foot up on the rim of the bathtub. Half her toenails were painted bright blue.
"What are you doing?"
"Working on the new fusion bomb."
"Forget it, look, I need quick advice. Emphasis on quick."
"Shoot."
"Tristan showed up to surprise me while Dean was trying to convince me to give it another shot."
Lorelai's head snapped up, her face visibly cringing. "Uh-huh. What was the body language like?"
"Whose?"
"You and Dean."
"He was hugging me, I was about to push him away."
She tsked. "And Tristan?"
"Was that spin out noise the entire four block radius probably just heard."
"So, that was Prodigy I was vibrating to!" she nodded in recognition. "Taylor will be screaming about that for weeks!"
"Mom, help. What do I do?"
"I'm assuming we want to make Tristan happier here, right?"
"Yes."
"So, you've been together less than a week, haven't really established a word for your 'relationship' and he finds you with ex-boyfriend in possibly a canoodling, compromising position upon arrival?"
"We were not canoodling. And yes."
"Drastic measures are in order, my dear. You have to go to him."
"Really?"
"Yes. Now, if only you had one of those cool moms that would let you take her car and go over to your uber-hot boyfriend's house to convince him that you like him and only him."
"Mom," she groaned. "Can I?"
"Go. Just be back before dark, or I'll come looking for him," she called, as Rory smiled at her and flew down the stairs.
Tristan came through the still open bedroom door a few moments later, causing Janlan to stand up. Janlan looked at the two of them, as their eyes locked on each other. He hoped they could move on from here, but one thing was for sure. They didn't need him in here for that.
"I'll be downstairs, if you need anything," he said, putting his hand on Tristan's shoulder on his way out the door.
He closed the door behind him, and Tristan stepped closer to the bed.
"Where did you have to go?"
He took a breath, silently willing her not to be mad. "I went to see your grandparents."
"Why?"
"Because she had to know that what she did, it was unconscionable; that she was going to burn in hell for that kind of thing."
"Tristan, that wasn't your place," she shook her head, her emotions in a flurry.
"Like hell it wasn't."
She looked up at him, his tone reminding her of something she'd forgotten long ago. She wasn't alone in this. She'd tried so hard to not need anyone. Not to need him.
He'd never taken himself off the table.
"So, what now?"
He stepped another stride closer. "You tell me."
"I need to get back to Stars Hollow. I have to go through Mom's will."
He nodded. He couldn't forget that this was not the only situation she was dealing with. Her mother's death was still looming over her, something she would be reeling from for quite some time.
"Is there anything I can do, to help?"
She continued to look at him, her expression hopeful. "You could be there for me."
When your heart breaks for the first time, the sound is deafening. The audible shatter so loud in your own ears, you're surprised the whole world doesn't stop and take notice. You rotate backwards on your own axis, as the world speeds ahead of you. After that, it happens effortlessly, instantly, and only takes your breath away.
He nodded, his promise to her.