Pairing: Established relationships for L/L and P/J; R/T…eventually

Rating: R

Spoilers: May reference anything from seasons 1 & 2

Summary: Seven years after graduating Chilton, Rory and Paris are business partners. What happens when they strike up a joint venture with Tristan DuGrey?

Disclaimer: The characters depicted here were created by Amy Sherman-Palladino, and are the property of Hofflund-Polone and Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions. They are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made from their use.

Author's Note: Mwahahahaha! Just when I have y'all really and truly believing that this story is dead, I resurrect it once again. As always, no promises on when the next update with be, but I do think that you will at least be pleased with the direction the story is finally taking.

Ash, this one's for you…because B called.

Finally, this chapter's title quote is from, fittingly enough, Sleeping Beauty.

Unholy Alliance

By Grace

Part Thirty-five: "There she will be awakened by True Love's first kiss…"

Even at three o'clock in the morning, the hospital wasn't completely quiet. Assorted machinery in every room whirred, clicked, and beeped. Doctors and nurses carried on conversations; their hushed tones somehow carrying clearly down the corridors. Through it all, Tristan slept. He barely moved when the nurses came in every hour to check Rory's vitals. Exhaustion had well and truly claimed him.

Rory had been in a coma for nearly two weeks, and while the doctors were optimistic that she would come out of it, they simply couldn't predict when it would happen. For the people that loved her, life had regained an odd sense of normalcy. The routine was new, but the repetition unchanged.

Paris and Jess had gone back to work, their hearts heavy but their hands incapable of remaining idle. Luke was back at the diner, although his thoughts were never far from the woman he considered his oldest daughter. Chris had returned to Boston, work and other responsibilities making it impossible for him to remain at his first-born's side. Ryan was in New York, upon Tristan's insistence that ILRG not be allowed to flounder. In truth, it hadn't taken much convincing. When Ryan protested that Tristan should go as well, he was reminded of his now-former partner's resignation on New Year's Day.

And so it was Tristan and Lorelai who kept the daily vigil at Rory's side. Each night, Luke would drive to Hartford, and drag Lorelai from the hospital. Her other children still needed her, and he insisted she sleep in her own bed.

But there was no one to impose similar demands on Tristan, no one waiting for him at home. And so he stayed at the hospital day and night, several days' growth of stubble on his face, the bags under his eyes an ever-darkening purple.

He had stopped counting the hours he had sat there staring at her. His very own Sleeping Beauty. Once, when no one was watching, he had stolen a quick kiss in the hope she would awaken. Predictably, nothing had happened.

When Lorelai was there with him, they would sometimes talk quietly, and even play cards on occasion. But mostly they just sat, silently watching and waiting.

When Tristan was alone with Rory, he would read to her from the Hartford Courant and New York Times until he was hoarse. He played CDs by artists that he knew she liked. He had fresh flowers delivered to her hospital room every day. And in the dead of night, when sleep refused to grant him peace, he spoke to her. He talked of everything and nothing—his opinions on world events, the latest player the Chicago Cubs had acquired, stories from his childhood, tales of his grandfather. And when he ran out of words, he always said, "I love you, Rory," before lapsing into silence.

His devotion became the hot topic of conversation among the nurses on the wing, and they sort of adopted him. There was always a hot meal for him when he was there alone, and although he rarely noticed it, the nurses frequently dropped by with soda or candy or other snacks to share. They grew concerned as he lost weight and didn't sleep, but there was nothing else they could do.

And finally, that night, he slept. Ashley, a young nurse with a ready smile and a kind heart, was pleased to see him slumbering deeply when she came in for her 3:30 am rounds. She set her pen and clipboard down on the bedside tray, and pulled the thin hospital-issue blanket higher up onto his weary body. He didn't react at all and, satisfied, she turned back toward her patient—and promptly knocked her clipboard on the floor.

She winced when he jolted awake at the clatter, his eyes wide and confused. "Rory?' he mumbled.

"Sorry, it was just me," Ashley whispered. "I'm such a klutz."

"'s okay," he muttered.

"I'll be out of here in just a minute, and you can go back to sleep."

He nodded and then pushed himself up and out of the chair, heading for the bathroom.

Silently chastising herself, Ashley turned back to the bed—and watched Rory Gilmore's eyes flutter open. Shocked, she managed a gentle smile, and said, "Welcome back, Ms. Gilmore. How do you feel?"

"Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital. You were in a car accident, and you've been in a coma."

"How long?"

"Nearly two weeks. You gave everyone quite a scare."

A note of panic crept into Rory's voice. "Where's my mom? Where's Ryan?"

The nurse hid her surprise that the young woman made no mention of the man who had stayed so patiently beside her.

Hidden by the shadows of the partly open bathroom door, Tristan heard Rory's question and slipped unnoticed from the room. He went outside, the bitter cold of Hartford in January driving the final vestiges of sleep from him. Pulling out his cell phone, he quickly called Stars Hollow. "Luke? It's Tristan. She's awake."

"We'll be right there," the older man said gruffly, and hung up.

Bracing himself, Tristan dialed another familiar number. "RJ, it's Tristan…"

Three minutes later, his duties as a friend fulfilled, Tristan DuGrey drove off into the night.

Thirty minutes later, Lorelai burst into Rory's hospital room, with Luke following at a more sedate pace. Lorelai immediately swept her daughter into a hug, tears streaming down her face. "I was so afraid I'd lost you. Don't ever do that to me again."

Rory smiled weakly. "I'll do my best, mom."

Lorelai drew back slightly, as if suddenly remembering something. "Where's Tristan?"

Rory stared at her in confusion. "I don't know. Why would Tristan be here?" Her voice grew bitter. "He left for Italy, remember?"

Ever so gently, Lorelai stroked her daughter's hair. "Sweetie, he came back as soon as he heard about the accident. He's hardly left your side since."

"Maybe…maybe he's with Ryan," Rory suggested.

Luke chuckled mirthlessly. "I doubt that."

That only added to Rory's puzzlement. "Why? What's going on?"

"Ryan is in New York, honey," Lorelai replied. "He went back to work a couple days after the accident."

"Oh…well, I'm sure they needed him there, since Tristan left the company."

Lorelai exchanged a pointed glance with Luke, but decided not to argue with her recently comatose daughter. "I'm sure Ryan will be here as soon as he can," she soothed.

Rory nodded, and leaned back against her pillows. "Wake me up when he gets here," she mumbled. Moments later, she was fast asleep.

Lorelai looked up at Luke, her concern evident. "My cell phone is in my purse. I need you to find Tristan. He deserves to be here."

Nodding, Luke fished the phone from her bag and exited the room.

Tristan stood in the darkness, staring up at Chilton's imposing edifice. The gates had been locked, but if there was one thing military school had taught him, it was how to scale a fence.

He hadn't meant to come here, but as he drove aimlessly through the quiet streets of Hartford, something seemed to draw him in this direction. When he realized, somewhat to his surprise, that he was near the school he once ruled with a golden touch, he had felt compelled to stop.

Snow crunched beneath his feet as he continued his wanderings. Nothing, it appeared, had changed since the last time he had trod these paths, so many years earlier. He often wondered how his life might have turned out if he hadn't broken into that damn safe. Where might he be now if he had actually studied junior year, instead of raising hell with Duncan and Bowman? Could he and Rory have cultivated a friendship then, instead of wasting so many years?

He supposed it didn't really matter. The past was the past. The important thing was that Rory had woken up—and asked for Ryan. Different day, same story. He paused as he came upon a bench along the pathway, and a memory came rushing back. The first time he and Rory had a "real" conversation…the first time his foolish sixteen-year-old self thought she might be more than just a conquest.

And then another memory—"I might kiss you goodbye, but, uh, your boyfriend's watching." He had been noble then. He should be noble now.

But the stakes were higher. He loved her. Really, honestly loved her. And this noble thing was bullshit. It wasn't him. He was sneaky and underhanded and he played dirty.

It was time to fight for Rory Gilmore.

A new determination in his step, he headed back to his car. As he walked, his cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hi Luke. Yeah, I'm actually on my way."

Rory Gilmore was having a lovely dream. She had finally found a man who loved her the way she wanted to be loved. He kept telling her how much he needed her, and that he couldn't live without her. It was all so perfect—but she couldn't see his face. All she could hear were the words, echoing over and over. "I love you, Rory."

She was pulled from her dream by the sound of voices nearby. Opening her eyes, she saw her mom and Tristan sitting beside her bed, talking quietly. Luke had just entered the room, holding a tray filled with four carryout coffee cups.

Conversation halted when they noticed she was awake. "Hi, honey," Lorelai said softly. "Did you have a nice nap?"

Sleepily, Rory nodded. "How long was I asleep?"

Lorelai glanced at her watch. "A little over two hours. How do you feel?"

"Kind of out of it. I don't really remember much. I mean, I know we were at the launch party, and you," she turned to Tristan, "announced you were leaving for Italy. But after that…nothing." She glanced down for a moment, her brows furrowing. "Have I really been here two weeks?"

"Just about," her mother replied.

"God, I can't believe—all that time is just gone. How…what happened? With the accident, I mean?"

This time, Luke responded. "You left the launch party. As you pulled out of the parking lot, you were hit by a semi."

"Was I by myself?"

They nodded.

"But…why was I leaving?"

"You were coming after me," Tristan replied quietly.

Rory turned to face him, her gaze steady, blue eyes no longer cloudy with sleep. "But why?"

Blue met blue as he stared determinedly back at her. "We argued. And I told you…"

Before he could finish, the hospital room door flew open. "Lorelai!" Ryan cried. "Thank God you're awake! I got here as fast as I could."

Rory looked up at him and smiled. A flash of her dream had come back to her. Ryan had to be the man saying he loved her. "I'm glad you're here."

Rushing to her side, Ryan wrapped his arms around her, and held her tight. "I love you so much, Lorelai," he whispered.

At his words, Rory's eyes dimmed slightly. Something was wrong, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.

The five of them had been sitting and talking for nearly an hour when Nurse Ashley entered the room. "I know that you're all very excited to see Rory awake, but our patient does need her rest. I've been bending the rules as it is by letting you all stay this long."

Lorelai flashed a tired smile. "We really do appreciate it, Ashley. Thank you for taking such good care of my baby."

"It was my pleasure." She turned to Tristan. "Mr. DuGrey, I put your pillows and blanket in the closet if you need them. And will you want breakfast in the morning, as usual?"

An awkward silence descended on the group. Finally, it was broken by RJ, who asked tensely, "Tristan will be staying the night?"

Ashley looked stricken, as she belatedly realized she had said something wrong. "I'm…uh, I just assumed," she stammered. "I mean, he's been here practically every night…"

Which was also not the right thing to say…

Ryan turned to face his former partner. "You've been here practically every night," he repeated slowly. "You want to tell me what the hell that's all about?"

Tristan met his gaze without flinching. "Rory is my friend, RJ. I care about her, very much."

"Her friend? Paris and Jess are her friends. Where are they?"

"Paris is pregnant, remember?" Tristan spat out. "She can't spend all her time in a hospital. At any rate, she's been here plenty."

"Right," Ryan was openly skeptical.

Tristan was getting angry now. "Exactly what are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that you're not acting like just a friend."

"How am I acting?"

"Like more than a friend!" RJ shouted.

"If being by her side day and night is something 'more than a friend' would do," Tristan said carefully, "then where the hell have you been?"

Ryan's face flushed an angry shade of scarlet. "Where do you get off…"

"Enough!" roared Luke. "We are in a hospital! If you want to have a pissing contest, take it outside."

"I'm not leaving," Ryan announced.

Rory's voice was just above a whisper, but it carried weight. "Ryan, please, just go. We'll talk about this later."

Obviously incensed, he bit out, "Fine," and strode from the room.

Lorelai leaned over and gave Rory a kiss, murmuring, "Get some rest, kiddo. We'll be back when it's daylight."

Luke squeezed her shoulder. "Sleep well."

"Thanks Luke. I'll see you guys later."

While Luke and Lorelai said their goodbyes, Tristan put on his coat and prepared to slip from the room. Before he could make his escape, Rory said, "Tristan, wait."

It was Luke and Lorelai's turn to make an unheeded exit, which they quickly did, leaving Rory and Tristan alone.

"Have a seat," she said softly. "We need to talk."

To be continued…