Title: What Lies Within Us
Chp.7 Never so vulnerable as when we trust
(from a quote I read)
Disclaimer: I don't own. Duh.
Introduction: I know I'm delusional….but Trory. Well, obviously not at first because that would be too easy, but I wanted to clarify. Basically set in the present, slightly altered to make things work. Oh, side note, and although this fic started before viewing of 'wedding bell blues', assume Rory and Logan got together in similar matter (they're just not having sex), and decided on some 'strings' eventually.
Rating: Pg-14 this chap. Maybe. Well, not really, but want to be safe so don't offend.
Author's note: I hate reviews (I'm also a really bad liar). Will update faster next time. I swear.
Ten more minutes.
Rory couldn't stop looking at the clock. She had finished her exam already, and since she couldn't leave until the allotted time was up, she had nothing to do but sit there and stare at the clock on the wall of the large Yale gymnasium where she was writing her final.
Nine more minutes.
Soon, she would be headed for home. Well, more accurately, Logan's parents on the way home. She had already pressed her short black dress to wear; any party thrown by the Huntsberger's wouldn't exactly be a jeans affair. She just prayed it wouldn't be too tedious; she had been enough to those kinds of parties at her grandparents. She could excel at the meaningless polite chatter with the best of them, she just didn't enjoy it. At least Tristan and Logan would be there.
Seven more minutes.
She just had to go home and pack some things, and then she would be ready to go. That was the problem with having two primary residences, you had to lug around half your stuff when you were going to be away any extended period of time. She had to admit, after the lack of sleep and stress of finals, she wasn't in the mood for any kind of social gathering, but this wasn't something she could just blow off.
Six more minutes.
She found herself wondering how it would be having Tristan home with her for Christmas. If she were honest, there were aspects of her invitation she hadn't considered before, she had just thought about how much she wanted him to come. Now that she had time to contemplate, she was nervous about bringing him home. Not just because she was scared he would hate it; and he might, he grew up in privilege, not the small town atmosphere. It wasn't just that, it was more that Lorelai would dislike him. Though there was no cause, she didn't want her mom to be dismissive of him the way she could be at times; she didn't just want tolerance. She had always been accepting of Lorelai's dislike of Logan, not that she could blame her mom, considering how they had met.
Three more minutes.
But it wouldn't be like that. Tristan, he wasn't Jess. He also hadn't met Lorelai while making out with her daughter, like Logan. And, he wasn't the boyfriend. Maybe that would be the difference. Of course letting friends meet her mom hadn't brought her this much anxiety. Lorelai wouldn't be purposefully hurtful, but she didn't think she would ever grow old enough she wouldn't look for Lorelai's approval on at least some level.
"Time's up," the proctor's voice cut into her thoughts. "Put down your pencils, and hand in your papers. Exam time is over."
She slid out of the desk she had been writing in, and took her paper up to the front. Smiling at the TA who had been administering the exam, she gave him her paper. After all that agony, that stress, she was done for the term. There could be really no words to describe the sense of relief that came when exams were done. Of course she'd be coming back in a short time to do it all over again next term, but it was best to put those thoughts from her mind.
Like she did often now, she decided to stop by Logan's yet again. She had promised she would be ready to leave soon after her final, but she wanted to finalize the plans for the day, and she wanted a moment to savour the end of exams before the rush to get ready to leave. The walk across campus was long and freezing despite the lack of snow, but at this point she couldn't care less about the cold. It only made her walk faster. But by the time she arrived, her nose was red from the weather, and she had her hands against her ears to ward off the chill. She met Finn in the hallway, who informed her that Logan was gone for lunch, but would be back soon. He tossed his keys to her so she could wait inside as he hurried by, forgetting she had her own set.
She let herself in, knowing she should probably just go home and start packing, but she figured he wouldn't be too long. Itwasn't like she wanted to get to his parents place too early. Right on time sounded just right to her. Fashionably late, even better. Besides, she was a fast packer. She could be ready to go quickly. Rory walked over to the couch, kicking aside the clothes strewn on the floor before she sat down.
It was as she was flipping through Finn (or Logan's, she wasn't sure), copy of Playboy that she had found tucked underneath the couch for some light entertainment, that she realized the shower was running. Funny how Finn had forgot to mention that little fact. It was only seconds later when the water stopped, and Tristan walked out of the washroom, clad in nothing but a towel. He stopped short as soon he saw her sitting there.
"Oh," was all he could say stupidly. Tristan was surprised to see her there, having no expectation she would be there this early before they left for Logan's parents.
Rory initially didn't say anything in reply. As soon as she had seen him, her attention had been drawn to his body. She refused to feel guilty over it. She was a normal, healthy, heterosexual female, and he had been in the military. A little ogling was expected. But in the end, that wasn't what kept and drew her attention. Running both down his right side, and one zigzagged across his chest, were 2 long and severe wounds, only partially scarred and obviously fairly recent. Before she knew what she was doing, she had stood up and gone over to touch him. "What happened?" she asked softly, resting her hand on the scar on his chest. She hated the thought of him in pain, and those wounds had to have caused him some severe degree of suffering. They were angry wounds, really the only word she could think of at that point to adequately describe them.
She was a little surprised when he pulled away from her abruptly and turned his back to her; it was then she noticed the third scar running along his back. He reached quickly for the closest shirt he could find sitting in the room, even though she recognized it as one of Logan's, and pulled it on quickly.
"Nothing," he replied firmly, yanking the shirt down and stepping as far away from her as he could and still be in the same room.
She frowned at the ridiculousness of his answer. Those scars, they were about as far from 'nothing' as one could get. "Tristan…" she began firmly.
"Listen," he cut her off, in a hard tone, "I don't want to talk about it okay? It's really none of your business."
Rory wanted to pretend that she wasn't hurt by his tone, or his words, but it was hard. She wanted to respect his privacy, but at the same time it wasn't that simple. She knew he had been withholding a lot from her, and it was hard to respect that. She had thought it the past couple weeks they had really become at least friends; she wanted him to be at least partially her 'business', and that had to include the stuff that really mattered. "If you ever want to talk about it….." she began hesitantly, not sure what else to say.
"I won't," he interrupted her, firmly, again.
She tried to squelch a feeling of hurt at his words as she backed away, and sat back down on the couch. He had never talked in such a dismissive tone to her, and it was hard to take. She tried to be accepting because she knew obviously whatever had given him those scars was a sensitive subject, but it didn't stop her from feeling hurt.
She watched him hesitate, and run a hand through his hair. He didn't look angry now, like he had when she had asked him. He just looked resigned, and a little sad. It was hard not to confront him. Tristan looked like he was about to say something, but thought the better of it and grabbed some clothes to go change in the washroom.
Rory knew she should let him go, just let him escape. He wasn't her boyfriend. Hell, they'd only really known each other a couple of weeks. But she found she just couldn't do it. "Tristan?" she said a little hesitantly, as he was about to shut the door.
She watched his shoulders slump, but he turned around. "Yes?"
Rory struggled for a moment with what she wanted to say. It was hard to bring this up without being confrontational, and she knew that would solve nothing. "I want to be clear on something here, are you and I friends?"
She watched him hesitate on that one, and not knowing why, couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt, but he quickly covered it by saying, "Yes." He looked scared at the admittance, scared that she was going to use it to try and force him to talk about what he obviously wanted left alone.
She chose her next words carefully, not sure how to play it. "You know I'm not going to make you talk about anything you don't want to talk about; I won't force confidences. It's your life, your choice, and I'll try to respect that. But know this Tristan; if we are really friends, and I'd like to think that we are, we can talk to each other about the stuff that really matters. Favourite book, favourite movie…that's something you can talk about with strangers. Friends get the down and dirty stuff. Just believe you can trust me enough to talk to me about anything."
He fiddled with his towel for moment before saying. "It's not about trust Rory."
The hurt was still there as she wasn't so sure. Stuff like this, it was all about trust. And, even as she opened her mouth to say something else, she suddenly stopped. It was all about trust, and it would be hypocritical of her to call him on it. It wasn't like she had been completely forthcoming about her past. Especially the stuff with Dean. And she wasn't sure she ever wanted to. All she had from her past were emotional scars, brought about by her own actions. He had the real live kind, and had a right to protect himself from reliving the past. So she didn't say anything else, just stared at him wordlessly.
"It happened on my tour of duty," his voice was abrupt as he said it. Her eyes shot up, surprised he was offering any kind of explanation after being so adamant about not talking about it. But that was as far as he went. No details. She accepted it, even though it wasn't near the truth. That general explanation was nothing, and something she could have inferred on her own. But even if it was all she was going to get, she would work to accept it. She didn't have the right to feel hurt.
They were interrupted by Logan walking in, and she felt a flash of annoyance that she realized was illogical as soon as she thought about it. "Hello," she forced a smile to her face, as she stood up to greet him. "I decided to stop by before I went to go pack; just finished my last final." She completely missed the look that crossed his face at the sight of Tristan in a towel, even though he at least had a shirt on now.
Logan just forced a smile as well as she stood up to kiss him. He didn't want these feelings of jealousy whenever he saw the two of them together. He didn't want to feel suspicion at her talking with Tristan in a towel. And he wouldn't have in the past, not just because Tristan was a friend, but because there had been no girl worth getting jealous over to this point. But now he couldn't stop the uneasiness he felt every time he saw them together. He gave in to his rather immature urge to deepen the kiss she gave him, even though Tristan was standing right there, and probably due to the fact that Tristan was there. He let his hands drift down below her waist because he was the one who had the right to do that. It made her pull away, as he should have known it would.
"What time are you going?" she asked, taking a step back from him, not having noticed exactly when Tristan had slipped into the washroom as Logan had kissed her.
Tristan splashed cold water on his face before he pulled on his underwear and pants. She shouldn't have been there when he came out. She wasn't supposed to see him with his shirt off. It was why he avoided the pool, why he wore a full shirt to the gym. It was why he had only been with one girl since he had been injured. The sight of his scars brought questions he didn't want to answer, topics he wanted to avoid. And, as he had learned with the one girl he tried to be with, a form of revulsion at the sight of them. She had been almost scared to touch him the whole time they were in bed together.
He had seen the hurt in Rory's eyes when he had snapped at her, and when he refused to talk about it. But as much as he hated it, he couldn't renege. He should be happy that she cared about him that much, but in it's own way it made it harder. He knew he had hesitated when she had asked if they were friends, and she had noticed, but it wasn't for any of the reasons she probably thought, or ones he could explain to her. It was just her direct question had brought back his dilemma of the other night. True friends didn't lust after friends. She was the closest friend he had, but it would never be complete. Not only because of the longing he felt every time he looked at her. It was because he probably would never confide in her fully, as she had pointed out tonight.
As he pulled off Logan's shirt to put on his own, he saw the scars in the mirror himself. He had been told they would fade over time, but never to oblivion. Injuries that deep just never went away. In the beginning he had almost been happy over that news. They would be his constant reminder, so he would never forget. But then as his dreams came, and his thoughts continued to haunt him, he realized he wouldn't need them as a reminder. Injuries that deep didn't go away emotionally either.
He was still lost in his own thoughts when the yelling broke into his consciousness. "I'm not letting someone else drive my car just so you can have your ego stroked," Rory's voice was angry and elevated.
"Hi, remember me? Your boyfriend? The one you should want to spend time with?" Logan was angry as well.
"Of all the idiotic…..listen, it's not about spending time with you, you know that. Tell me by now that you know that. Let me spell it out for you in case you're dense enough you couldn't have picked it up over the past months. I. Enjoy. Spending. Time. With. You. I blow off stuff and people just to be with you. What, you had to spend a couple nights without me when I was studying? My wanting to take my own car to your parents has nothing to do with that, it has to do with convenience. You want to make that big a deal out of spending time together, ride with me!"
Tristan couldn't hear what Logan said next, but it was low and furious. He planned on hiding out in the bathroom for the next couple hours until this blew over. But, he could hear Rory's incensed reply, even though she had dialled down the volume a little. "Logan, don't be such a hypocrite. It wasn't until a month ago I was even allowed to call you my boyfriend, before we could even define this as a relationship. You and I both know this has nothing to do with spending time together, it has to do with you proving something to Tristan, like how much under your spell your girlfriend is!"
He could ascertain from their argument that it was about driving to Logan's parents that afternoon. He had known Logan wanted Rory to ride with him, and let Tristan drive her car after she had refused to stay at his place. He also knew Rory didn't want anyone else to drive her car. He just hadn't expected it to erupt into this. Probably hadn't helped that Logan had come home to see the two them together with him in a towel. And, if it weren't him involved, it would almost be funny how she could be so close to the truth without even coming close on the most basic part of it. Logan did want to prove to Tristan that Rory was 'under his spell' as she put it, it just had nothing to do with his ego, it had to do with jealousy. Plain and simple.
Their words had softened since Rory's last outburst, and it took him a minute to realize that he was right next to the door, trying to listen to every word. But as he heard Rory's low laugh, and the sound of them kissing, he flushed and backed quickly away from the door. They had obviously smoothed things over fast. The fight may be over, but the making up obviously wasn't. And he didn't want to witness either.