Title: Emotionless
Author: kait, kate or k8.
Chapter: 8.
Disclaimer: I own all the characters you don't recognize because they aren't on the show. Other than that i own the computer that i'm typing on, and the cd that's playing on it...but i don't own that band...or the song...or anything else for that matter.
Rating: R
Summary: If you haven't figured it out yet, you're in trouble.
Author's Notes: If you haven't checked out the update for Someday We'll Know and you like my writing style, i recommend checking it out!
Other than that, thanks for the reviews guys. You all rock.
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A harsh tone cut threw the air and Atticus rolled over and slammed his alarm clock. Finally, the beeping ceased, and slow but upbeat music filled the room. The four hours or so of sleep would have to do, because Rory would have his ass if he started skipping the first week of school - not that she was around.
He sat up in bed and rubbed sleep out of his eyes. He wasn't going to get used to this easily. And not just the daily grind of waking up and going to school. He had to get used to being around people that cared about him.
And that scared him just a little.
He walked out into the hall of the two-bedroom apartment and ventured into the bathroom. Turning on the shower he stripped off his clothes and stood exposed in front of the mirror that hung over the sink. His hair was a deep brown, nearly black, kept at a length of just over two inches. It was straight for the most part, but it curled at the ends, helping him achieve a negligent look, which suited him well. His body was toned from his traps to his calves and he noticed a hickey near his left hip. He cringed at the site but tried not to dwell on it.
Atticus leaned into the mirror to stare into the eyes of his sometimes unrecognizable self. His eyes belonged to him and only him, but they were so much like his father's people often didn't see the difference. Atticus did. Although for the most part his eyes looked brown, they weren't. They were a deep shade of hunter green.
The green set him apart. It was the only thing that had ever made him believe that he could live without his father. It gave him
strength on the days when he tried to convince others and himself that he could do without him, although there were days when not even the green could help.
He'd seen expensive psychiatrists, and they all said the same shit. You can live without a father', lots have done it before you'. Blah, fucking, blah. They knew crap. They were the same trust fund kids that had grown up going to schools like Chilton, where they fed everyone the same garbage about family values' and whatever the after-school special morality lesson of the week was.
They didn't know what it was like to be him. No one did.
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Jess hadn't slept all night. He spent an hour gathering his things and was preparing to leave at 8:00 am, which was now forty-seven minutes away. He wasn't sure he could leave though, the past 72 hours had taken all the strength he possesed within him, and he wasn't sure he had the willpower or was stubborn enough to leave after all he had accomplished. Which wasn't much when you looked at it from a different perspective.
He had come to a place where he lived as a teenager, and had a confrontation with an ex. That was it. That was all he had to justify this trip by. Big fucking deal. He hadn't even attempted to see the real reason he came.
The trip had never been about Rory. He still loved her, yes. But this trip being about her was more than he could ever have dreamed for. The thought of ever getting her back was more then he could even fathom. It was too unrealistic; he couldn't even pretend that it was a possibility.
This trip was about his son, and the more he thought about why he came, the more his decision to leave was swayed. He hadn't come here to accomplish nothing, and he wasn't going to leave that way either.
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When Atticus walked into the kitchen his first instinct told him that he was still asleep. His gut feeling however, told him that Rory had just come home early. But what on earth could possess a Gilmore to give up working in the middle of the night?
It was a statement, more than a question, but his tone reflected wonderment - his mother had never come home early before.
Hey Dodger. Normally she smiled when she saw him but this time she simply took a sip of the warm, mocha drink that was curled inside her hands.
Walking over to the counter, he poured himself a mug of the steaming liquid and then ventured back to the woman sitting at the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down across from her. What's up? his eyes shone with bewilderment and it was the first time Rory could remember him being this responsive towards her in a long time.
Something happened last night. For a moment Rory saw nothing but undiluted fear cross the face of her son. But after a short moment's pause she explained herself outright. Last night I got a call from Lorelai. Dodger,... she couldn't say it. She couldn't do it, it was too impossible to say this. It was four simple words but they would not leave her mouth. Your dad came home.'
It wasn't happening. His eyes followed her stare as it moved off into the distance, she was thinking.
Her eyes jumped up and she stared back at her son. I-I can't tell you. She was stuttering like a nervous teenager. She really just need to get it out.
he wanted to know what the hell was going on.
Rory had had enough, if you wanted to jump you had to do just that - jump. He was here. Rory's tone left no silent questions. He knew who she was talking about instantaneously, just from the way she spoke the words. Atticus' gaze was drawn downward and he stared at the table for a long time before moving.
When he finally moved he simply stood, and walked down the hall. The apartment was still; silent. In two opposite sides of the home two souls sat motionless, silent tears streaming down their cheeks.
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Half an hour after their discussion' Atticus heard the front door slam shut. Rory was gone, off to do god knows what. He looked at the clock, he was about to be late for his first period class. Rory would understand, but since he really didn't care to start falling behind on the second day of school.
Dressing in his uniform he got ready as quickly as he could for school. Maybe school would take his mind off the magnitude of what he had discovered. When Rory had finally gotten the words out she had stressed the word was', as in no longer. It was used in the past tense, which meant that his father was no longer in the tiny town where he was currently residing.
He would go to school until lunch, and then re-evaluate what he was going to do about this situation.
Atticus pulled into the school parking lot, he looked into the mirror and sighed once again. This was getting old fast.
Walking into the building where his locker was located. He approached his locker and tapped his best friend on the back. , he said it with a trademark smirk and after a few seconds of no reaction from his friend he began getting a little bit worried.
He put his hand on Tobey's shoulder and after a small tremor Tobey turned around smiling. Hey dude, how's it going?
Atticus was surprised by his sudden up-beatness, but refrained from commenting. You okay?
Tobey gave him a strange look and smiled, Of course I'm okay, well aside from nearly passing out at the lame function my mother had last night, but don't worry I found my own way of dealing with it. Another trademark smile came from the son of a business mogul and it put Atticus' mind at ease. Even though Tobey had always been unlike every typical Chiltonite, he still had the charm of good breeding. It was probably why he was so good with women.
The best friends shared their goodbyes and as Tobey headed off to class Atticus wondered why he hadn't been in the last one. He shrugged it off and walked towards Writer's Craft. It was the least difficult of his subjects, and also his favourite.
He was nearly there when for some reason he stopped walking. Glancing around him there was a whirlwind of uniformed teenagers. Out of the corner of his eyes he faintly registered Oliver Terra flirting, arm against a locker, smile playing upon his lips.
Suddenly, he realized what his eyes had been searching for. His gaze locked upon one person. She was slowly walking towards him, in a manner that screamed ignorance towards his position. He cringed and turned towards a wall. He wasn't ready to see her yet. God, and he had thought seeing Dominique would be bad. This was worse. This was all his worse fears ever coming true. Because Dominique had been infatuation; lust. Never anything too scary. She was intoxicating, yes. But this was scary in the way that he wasn't ever supposed to have feelings for a girl., because he'd end up hurt. It sounds pretty cheesy for the bad boy to be thinking, but unforunately it was true.
He took another deep breath and prayed that she had passed him. God, for someone with so much sexual experience, some girls really shook him. Well, two girls. There had only ever been two. He turned and for a moment their eyes sliced through each other.
Her eyes were as strong as she was, and they were a hardened steel colour. Grey was not a strong enough word to describe them. You could see the power in her eyes, and it had always drawn him to her. They blazed in such a way that they could make her seem superior, or just mystifying. Either way, she had always held intrigue.
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She was pacing. She hated pacing. Mostly because it made her look as vulnerable and as frantic as she felt, and that just didn't quite seem fair. It wasn't her turn to look helpless. She wasn't supposed to get a turn at this. It was just supposed to happen, and be over with.
But for whatever reason she kept dragging it on. Standing outside the inn. For some reason last night had just happened in a blur. She had just dealt with what she'd been given. Of course, it did take her more than twenty minutes to reach his room.
There was a point in her life when she thought the difficult parts between them were over. The day she and Dean finally broke up. The day they were sitting in the hospital room staring down at their son. There had been a few moments there that she thought that everything would turn out okay. And then everything shattered again. A few years ago she had thought that the hard part was over, between them at least. He was never coming back, he had made that obvious, so she was firm in her belief that she would never have to worry about him again.
Of course, she never did knock on wood.
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Jess took a look out the window behind the bed and sighed. He had to do this. He had already come this far, he just had to go a little bit further. He had to meet his son, and if staying in a town where everyone hated him, so be it. He was sick of being his father.
He hated every fibre of his father's being since the day he walked out the door of their apartment. And although Jess left before his son could ever even pretend to grow attached, he still knew the same gnawing feeling that came from being left behind.
He wondered if Rory ever got that feeling.
Descending the stairs to the lobby of the inn he became aware of how significant a role he had played in the lives of many. If he had never entered Stars Hollow, maybe Rory would be living on a large estate somewhere in New York, with her playboy husband who was making millions and 2.5 kids. That of course is leaving behind the white, picket-fencing that is Stars Hollow. So maybe he did impact the people in this town, but maybe it wasn't totally for the worse. Trials sculpt character, and compared to him as a teenager, Rory had no clue what heartache felt like.
Jess furrowed his brow, that wasn't completely true. After all, she grew up with her mother, living in a garden shed behind an inn just so they could make enough money to get by. And then she had Chilton to deal with, and she worked really hard at that. Hard enough to get into every Ivy League in the country.
She had been through her share of difficulties, and she was still standing 18 years later. Without him. Maybe that's why he always felt bitter towards the pure and charismatic girl. She didn't need him the way he needed her.
He opened one of the large, french doors at the entrance of the inn and was surprised to see the entity of his thoughts standing before him. He was so taken aback that he nearly entirely forgot his agitated state.
She was startled to see him and shook her head at his near-forwardness,
His previous disposition returned and he suddenly was at a loss for what to say.
You were leaving this morning. she stated it quickly and painfully and it almost made him revert back to the plan he had foretold her last night.
Change in ...uh..the plan. I'm staying.
She looked pained when she asked him, and the look on her face begged him to take her out of her misery.
I came here to see my...o..your son. I came to see Atticus. That's it. I don't expect anything from you or anyone else. I just want to see him.
And what makes you think he would want to see you? she snapped the sentence and it sent a searing pain through his chest. If he was over forty he would have thought that he was have a heart attack, but he could tell that the words just stung.
How did he know? He didn't. He was guessing. But from anything he had ever heard - which was nothing with the exception of the letter - he was screwed up, and Jess was partially if not fully responsible for that.
It's my fault, okay? It's always been my fault Rory. Everytime, and for a while there you stuck up for me and saved my ass but you know what? I'm grown up now. I need to start taking responsibility for my actions.
And you're just going to start now and think that it makes up for eighteen years of not being there? It doesn't.
I don't expect it to. But I thought that at least coming back here would do some good.
Rory sighed and Jess exhaled. It seemed that they couldn't do this without both of them getting their backs raised up. One day - he hoped - they would work it out. But there were way too many left over feelings for that to be an option right now.
