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AN: Before the Aussies all freak out, the Australian rebellion thing is an inside joke between my Sydneysider housemate and I. Unlikely to happen (verrrrry much so) so don't worry.
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Over the past few years, Jordan had apparently developed some common sense. And Rory recognized that at the top of her college roommate's list was keeping herself and Tristan away from each other.

"Uh, Tristan, would you take Andy for a walk while I help Rory settle in?"

Tristan opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced by his twin's glare. "Fine," he mumbled, taking Andy's hand in his and heading toward the road.

Rory watched Tristan and Andy in shock until they disappeared from view before turning to Jordan. "Why do I feel like I stepped into an intervention?"

Jordan laughed. "Not at all," she murmured, "Not at all."

Rory thought back to a few minutes previous, when Tristan had appeared in the doorway. She'd been too surprised to take it in then- the sallow skin, unshaven, almost gaunt face, and the unwashed hair. "Wait, am I in his intervention?" Her hand flew to her mouth as her brain worked overtime. "Wait! Is he sick?"

Jordan gazed down the road for a minute before shaking her head. "No. At least not physically."

"Huh?"

Jordan bit her lip before gesturing for Rory to enter the house. She busied herself for a few minutes by pouring Rory a cup of coffee and tidying up the kitchen before broaching the subject again. "Amelie left him," she said quietly. "Right after Christmas."

"I didn't know."

Jordan nodded. "I know. You don't really know much, Rory. You stopped communicating with everyone a couple years ago."

"I'm sorry. It was too hard, and talking to you just reminded me of him."

"I understand; you don't need to apologize." Jordan sighed. "Tris has been living with me since then. It was all a really quick downward spiral after- after..." She trailed off.

Rory frowned. "What?"

Jordan's jaw tensed and she shook her head. "Amelie got pregnant again about a year and a half ago. She miscarried early into the pregnancy. She was okay, but they never really recovered, you know?"

"Oh my God, I should've called-"

"You didn't know, Rory," Jordan soothed, setting a hand on Rory's forearm. "Anyway, things went downhill pretty quickly after that, and Max- do you remember Max? Allison's boyfriend? Anyway, Max helped Amelie through it, and this is where I get confused." Jordan shook her head. "You'll have to ask Tristan the rest, I guess."

"What- where's Jenny?" Rory asked; she'd met Tristan and Amelie's daughter when she was just a baby.

"She's with Amelie and she's three and a half . Anyway, Amelie got remarried- to Max." Jordan shook her head, an ironic smile playing on her face. "It's wild, isn't it?"

"Sad."

Jordan sobered. "Yeah."
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Tristan wasn't sure what he thought of Rory's reintroduction into his life. Jordan had told him Rory was returning to Connecticut, but for some reason, it hadn't hit home. Perhaps that was because he wasn't expecting her sister to bring her home.

'Like good old times,' he thought sardonically as he led Andy back into the house.

Rory and Jordan were sitting in the kitchen, which made them entirely unavoidable. Tristan passed through the room with his head down, resorting to the childish ideal 'if I can't see you, you can't see me.'

How had he been reduced to this?

He would've laughed if he wasn't so pathetic. You could take your pick, really.

There was Robbie's death. Amelie turning to Max. Or maybe you could skip right to Amelie's tearful proclamation that maybe they couldn't survive this, maybe they needed a divorce. Or, hell, throw in his grandfather's rage at his self-defeating attitude and it's impact on the company. The subsequent loss of his job. Losing custody of Jenny.

Take. Your. Freaking. Pick.

He was twenty-six years old, a divorced father who only got to see his daughter on weekends, unemployed, and working to get his bachelor's. He was a fucking failure, that's what he was.

He heard footsteps behind him and was barely able to withhold a groan. He knew he'd have to face her at some point, anyway.

"Hey."

Her voice was softer than he'd expected, but not nearly as pitying.

"Can we talk?" she asked.

He just shrugged. Like he had a choice?
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"It's been a while since we've done this," Rory murmured, sitting cross-legged on her bed across from Tristan.

"Yeah, I think that was our problem," Tristan acknowledged quietly. "Me, you. In the same room together."

Rory let out a small laugh. "That's not what I meant."

Tristan shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to meet Rory's gaze. It felt too familiar; it reminded him too much of the past. "Look, can we not do this? I've heard too many apologies, and quite frankly, they just piss me off."

Rory raised an eyebrow. "That's not what I was going to say, Tristan."

"Uh-huh." Tristan mirrored her expression.

Rory rolled her eyes and pulled her legs closer to her body. "Fine. I was going to apologize. It sucks, Tristan, and I can't imagine how it feels."

"You aren't seriously setting this up for a 'but,' are you?" Tristan asked, but found himself smirking anyway.

Rory sighed. "Jordan told me you've been like this for almost a year, Tristan. And you've been a walking zombie for longer."

"So? I think I'm allowed to grieve for my son and my marriage and my job."

"When the hell did you turn into a drama queen?" Rory muttered, before looking away. "Sorry. I... Actually, I did kind of mean it. You're allowed to grieve, Tristan. You lost more than that- you lost your old life. And I'm thinking that's hard to deal with."

"No shit, Sherlock."

He'd never spoken to her like this, and he could tell it caught her off guard. Rory bit her lip. "You need to start living again, Tristan."

"If the next words out of your mouth are 'live for Robbie,' I won't be responsible for what I do to-"

"They aren't," she interrupted quickly, shaking her head. "I'm not stupid enough to believe that's possible. You have to live for you. And Jordan, because it's not fair to her."

"When did you grow a backbone?" Tristan asked with all the ferocity he could muster, but still a smile twitched at the corner of his lips, the first in a long time.

Rory pretended to ponder the question. "Being escorted at gunpoint through Brisbane. Did you see the documentary?"
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She called Logan later that night. He wasn't surprised, really. She'd talked about Tristan in her sleep, and when he'd finally had the sense to Google the man, he realized how much he looked like him.

He should've been upset, but he was too happy for her. She was different from the Rory Gilmore he'd known in college, and on some level, he'd always known it wouldn't work.

He'd known there was someone else in her heart, and there was no way to compete with a ghost.

So instead, he had given her his best wishes and told her to keep the ring or auction it off for charity or something. He'd told her it was hers, that is was a gift, and she could do with it what she liked.

And then he had contacted the daughter of his dad's old business partner and told her it was all settled. He'd told her that it had all worked out just according to plan, and soon, Rory and Tristan would be happy and together.

And he could almost see Amelie's smile through the phone line.
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