Title: What Lies Within Us
Chp. 15 It All Comes Out
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, maybe like a year ahead, 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. Stuff is slightly diff, see rest of fic.
Rating: Pg-14. That's too be safe. Pg-13 movies nowadays have much worse. But slightly upped ratings due to discussion of violent content, adult situations, and a couple bad words.
Authors Note: I have good excuses for why it took so long, really I do, but you don't want to hear them, you just want me to get on with the fic. Don't worry, I didn't forget about it.
Note: I am not in the military, nor am I a world events expert. Any inconsistencies, I apologize.
For those of you who stopped because of age and/or delicate sensibilities: they slept together. That's the gist of it.
It was dark around her when Rory opened her eyes. The sun had yet to rise. As she awoke, the confusion at her surroundings was only momentary. It was impossible not to remember the night before. Not with Tristan's arms still around her, even in sleep. Losing her virginity to Dean hadn't felt half as life-altering as the past night had. With him still fast asleep she could enjoy the peaceful feeling of being in his arms.
The room was lit only by the moonlight coming in the window. They hadn't bothered to turn on any lights in their haste. Rory could see the snow falling gently outside, and the sight comforted her. She lay still for a moment, savouring Tristan's breath warm upon her neck as she lay in his arms. Idly, she traced her finger over the expanse of his arm, the only body part exposed to her without moving.
Their clothes were strewn rather haphazardly throughout the small apartment, starting with the pile they had left by the door. Rory couldn't stop smiling as she savoured the memories. Somehow she had always assumed she would be embarrassed by the type of things she had done with him, but she didn't feel any recriminations or doubts thinking back. This had been right. This had been real.
She wanted to lay there forever in his arms, wait until he woke and kiss him gently. Watch the awakening in his eyes as he remembered. But thoughts of the real world intruded, and as she glanced over at Luke's alarm clock, watching it turn to 4:12AM, she knew that was a dream that would have to wait for another day.
Carefully, she lifted his arm from around her, fairly surprised that he didn't awaken considering how tightly he had been around her. She allowed herself the luxury of watching him in sleep for a moment, wishing she were back in bed with him. He looked relaxed, soft in a way she had never seen him be. He wore a slight smile on his face, and she permitted herself the fantasy that it was all because of her. She fiddled with a stray part of his hair, but regretfully stepped away before she woke him.
It was then that she could hear the quiet ring of her cell phone. She knew it was hers; Tristan didn't have one. It was barely audible as she knew it was tucked in the pocket of her jacket. Quickly she went for it, nearly tripping over the debris they had left around in her haste to get to it before it woke Tristan. He would awake in a few hours as it was, he deserved his sleep.
"Hello?" her soft whisper was fairly breathless as she answered the phone without wasting time checking the call display.
She could hear hesitation on the other end, before. "Rory?"
"Hi mom," she was careful to keep her voice just below a whisper as she spoke into the phone. She didn't know what to say, how to explain, what excuse she could give for not being at home by dawn. "Sorry I didn't call." That sounded lame even out of her mouth, but it was too late to take it back.
"So," Lorelai began, her voice seemingly loud in contrast to the quiet in the apartment. "Imagine the surprise I had when not only was I without houseguests until 4 in the morning, but my daughters boyfriend shows up, sans daughter."
Rory shut her eyes, knowing that she hadn't even thought of Logan in all this. At least she hadn't thought of Logan in the immediate future. He didn't deserve to find out that way, simply by her not coming home. "Tell him I spent the night at Grandma and Grandpa's because the party ran so late." She didn't bother to add the part that it would be a blatant lie.
"I did," Lorelai replied quietly. "Presumptuous, I know, but I took the chance that there was some explanation besides you lying dead on the side of the road, and covered your tracks." She hesitated. "You didn't spend the night at the Gilmore mansion, did you Rory?" The question was almost rhetorical.
There was a long pause before Rory's answer. She considered lying, saying that she was sleeping in her room at her grandparents house, but that would only complicate the issue, and this was her mother who could see through her lies a mile away. "No, I didn't," she answered simply, her eyes straying to Tristan's still sleeping figure on the bed.
She could almost hear Lorelai processing the information on the other end before her breath caught a little, and she asked, "This wouldn't have to do with a certain someone who's name begins with 'Tris' and ends in 'stan' would it?"
"It would have a lot to do with it," Rory replied cryptically, acknowledging her mothers perceptiveness. She waited for the recriminations that she was sure were forthcoming, just as they had been after Dean. She was in a committed relationship; she just had sex with someone she wasn't even dating. But this didn't feel wrong, or sordid. It felt so right, so amazing, and she waited for her mother to kill the moment.
"You're talking to Logan tomorrow?" was all Lorelai asked simply, surprising Rory.
"Yes, I am," she didn't even pretend to misunderstand what her mother was asking. She was breaking up with Logan tomorrow. She wouldn't be stringing him along while she got involved with someone else on the side. It would be painful, she didn't want to hurt him, but it was necessary.
"Ok then," Lorelai let the words out on a sigh. "You can give me all the details when you get home. Which, I recommend, will be as early as it can be and still maintain the illusion you're getting home from my parents."
Rory felt guilt then. Not for cheating on Logan, that was it's own separate emotion. It was guilt that she hadn't confided in her mother, shared what she was feeling. As much as she was her mother, and wanted the best for Rory, she was her best friend above all else. She hadn't given her mother enough credit, and kept all her turmoil from her. All Lorelai had known was what she had perceived in Rory's actions. This eventuality wasn't out of the blue, and she had kept all her conflicting feelings from her mother when she knew Lorelai would have been there for her. "We'll talk when I get home," she promised, knowing it was the truth. She wanted back what she used to have with her mother, discussing the details of their lives.
"I love you," was all Lorelai told her, before she hung up.
Rory snapped shut her cell phone and placed it back in the pocket of her jacket. As she straightened, she realized that she was still naked; she was more aware that she was standing there in nothing but the necklace that Logan had given her for Christmas as she felt it with her fingers. Fighting guilt, she fiddled with the clasp and removed it from her neck and dropped it too into the pocket of her jacket. Out of sight, out of mind.
She didn't regret for one moment being together with Tristan. But that didn't bring her peace with hurting Logan. He wasn't a bad guy. He cared for her in his own way. She might have even been happy with him if she had never discovered all it was that she was missing. It was easy to banish him from her mind, but it didn't change the fact that when she went home she would have to face him and end it, all with the knowledge that she had slept with someone else while they were together.
She knew she had a few hours before she had to be home, thanks to her mother covering for her, so she slipped back beneath the covers with Tristan, resting her head on his shoulder. Even in sleep, his arm came up to wrap around her, and she snuggled closer, absorbing his warmth in the cold room.
It seemed hours later before he woke, but in real time it had been only minutes. She knew he wasn't asleep when his breathing rhythm changed, and he began to stir beneath her. As he opened his eyes, she rolled over so that she faced him and rested her chin in her arms on his chest. She couldn't take her eyes off him. The feeling was almost giddy. She had never thought that she would ever be capable of these emotions.
Her face was the first thing that crossed Tristan's vision when he opened his eyes. As much as the feeling of happiness floored him, he should have been expecting it. Just as he should have been expecting the guilt and regret that came along with her being in his bed this morning. With him. But he could see the happiness on her face that she didn't have the desire or the guile to hide, and he felt his heart clench.
"Hey," Rory said softly with a smile as she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. She didn't see the hesitant look that crossed his face as they kissed. It didn't cross her mind that there was any reason he wasn't as happy as she was this morning.
Tristan gave what he hoped was a convincing smile. This was his worst nightmare and his favourite dream all rolled into one. He hadn't faked anything with her the previous night, and had opened himself up to her in a way he never had with anyone. He loved her, he knew it. But now it all came back to him, the reasons he had tried to avoid this eventuality.
But Rory was gently stroking her hand up and down his hard stomach as she began to speak again. "I have to go soon," she looked back up at him even as her hand came to rest on his chest. Her smile was luminous. "You can't understand how much I want to stay here with you like this, but I have to get back home."
"Rory…." He began, but in his hesitancy the opportunity was lost as she slid from beneath the covers.
"Let's grab some breakfast before I head back," he watched as she stood in her nakedness as she got out of the bed. He could tell she was tempted to wrap a sheet around herself, but steeled herself to walk calmly to her dress lying on the floor, and slip it on. It was wrinkled from lying on the floor all night, a casualty of their haste. She continued with a smile. "I can't cook eggs like Luke's or anything, but he always has some pretty good donuts." She gave thanks that Luke wouldn't be there that morning as he stayed closed for New Year's Day.
He watched her, wanting to let himself slip into the bliss of the moment. He wanted to be with her, for good. He wanted to believe that last night could go farther than just being a momentary slip on his part. Tristan didn't want to go back to will power and self-denial. But as much as it may kill him to hurt her, she didn't deserve to be stuck in a relationship with him. Not with what he had essentially was now.
"Hey," her voice was gentle as she noticed the look on his face. She was oblivious in so many aspects of life, but Rory wasn't stupid. She could tell there was something more there than post-coital bliss. It maybe had something to do with the fact that he looked like he was about to break to pieces. "It's not as bad as all that. See? I'm not running away crying." It was a half joke, a reference to their rather disastrous kiss in high school, but she was concerned as she looked at him and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Why do you have to get home so fast?" His voice sounded scratchy, but he was trying to postpone the inevitable moment when he would wipe the smile from her face.
She gave him a look that suggested he was an idiot. "It's sort of been noticed that I didn't come home last night. By mom, and by Logan when he got back. Mom called."
Logan. Another reason for guilt he had conveniently forgot about until now. "Where does he think you are right now?" he asked quietly, noticing how little concern she was showing that her boyfriend had noticed she didn't come home last night.
"Mom told him I was staying at my grandparents," she took his hand even as she said it. "It wasn't that I am ashamed of being with you Tristan, that's so far from the truth. Last night was the best night of my life, you know that. It's just, Logan's not a bad guy, he doesn't deserve it to end like this for him, his girlfriend just not coming home one night to be with another guy. The only thing worse would be if he had walked in on us."
It sucked, this feeling in his chest. She was all worried about his sensibilities, scared he would think she was wanting to hide what was between them. All her concern was for him. He wasn't fragile, but she sought to protect him. He wanted nothing more to wrap his arms around her, and pull her down to him, but he desperately resisted.
She continued on, playing absent-mindedly with his hand, letting her fingers slip between his. "That's why I have to get home. I have to end it with Logan; I owe him a face to face explanation, as hard as it will be." She looked him at him with a half-smile. "So as much fun as that is going to be, I'm really hoping you'll be here for me afterwards."
And there it was, all out in the open. He don't know why he'd harboured the faint delusion that she would wake up this morning, go back to Logan, and put this behind her. She was going to break up with her boyfriend, to be with him. With her declarations last night, he had known it was coming. From the second he took her in his arms, he had known that she believed he was committing to be with her. And he had let himself get swept away in it all; hadn't thought past the night. Didn't consider the morning after. He had just wanted to be with her so bad he had let that override his common sense. It wasn't a lust for sex, it had been a desire to be with her in every way possible, and get as close as she would let him.
"Don't." The word came out scratchy, sounding like he was being strangled as he said it. He tried it again, more firmly, trying to mean it. "Don't."
Tristan could see from the look on her face that she didn't understand. How could she, she had no clue. But Rory tried to keep her words light as she looked at him funny. "I don't usually do this with every guy I meet."
He knew that, god he knew that, and that made this harder. "Don't break up with Logan." He forced the words out.
"Tristan," she tried to make her words firm, even though she wasn't exactly sure what was going on. "I'm going to break up with Logan. You didn't think this was going to be some torrid affair between us, did you? I mean, I have no objection to 'torrid', but I want more with you than an affair. I'm not that much of a bitch. I want to be with you, therefore I have to end it with him. He deserves that."
She didn't get it, and there was no way that they would escape from this simply. "I can't be with you, Rory." He couldn't bring himself to lie and say that he didn't want to, so he simply chose 'can't' as a cop out.
He felt her drop his hand that she had held in hers, and he closed his eyes at the deprivation of contact. Tristan opened his eyes to see her pale face with a haunted expression. "You did a pretty good job of being with me last night," her words were clipped, and it was unclear whether it was mostly anger or hurt that infiltrated her speech. "You're not that good an actor Tristan, it wasn't cheap sex for you either."
It was far from cheap sex, but it wasn't that simple. "I know," the words came out on a sigh, "But we can't be together."
As Rory tried to process what was going on, she just stared at him dumbly. It made little sense. She knew he had been a player in his day, with lots of girls, but even he couldn't fake what had passed between them last night. It hadn't just been sex, although that had been amazing, they had connected. "Excuse me?" those were the only words she could think of to say.
He knew this wasn't going to be easy, not when her stricken look made him feel like he was punched in the gut, but he never knew that it would be this hard. He wanted to pretend to be cavalier, like it meant nothing, but he couldn't do that, not with her. It wasn't who he was anymore. It would take more than that. "Rory," he tried to keep his voice calm and steady. "Last night was amazing for me, but I can't have a relationship with you."
"Ok," her voice was closer to wavering as she asked, "So that crap last night, about the kiss 'meaning something' to you, about caring for me, it was just one fat lie. All you were really looking for was to get in my pants?"
It killed him to hear what they had shared put in such crass terms, but he forced himself to nod, avoiding her eyes.
"Bull shit."
His head snapped up, almost shocked to hear the words come out of Rory Gilmore's mouth. That wasn't her. "Excuse me?" he asked, his tone shocked.
"Bull shit," she spit out again. He could see she was furious. He had expected hurt, and tears, but not this fury that seemed to spill out of her. "That is the biggest load of unadulterated crap I have ever heard in my life. Want to know what I heard last night before I fell asleep Tristan? You telling me you thought you loved me. I know you were waiting until I fell asleep, but I heard you. You don't contemplate love one minute, and refuse to be with someone the next. I understand that love and emotions may freak you out, but you don't run away scared."
"I'm not scared," he was emphatic in his words.
"Then what is this?" her tone was still clipped. "I'm not going to just slink away Tristan. I may be deluded in some things, but I know you care for me. I'm not going to let you deceive me into thinking otherwise. I won't be that girl. I'm going to force the issue. Don't try and deny it."
"It's not about whether or not I care," he let the frustrated words come out, even though he knew that it was not the best steps in getting her to think there was really nothing between them.
"Then what is it about?" Rory wanted to throw something at him. "Don't try and make me believe it's guilt for sleeping with your friends girlfriend, and you're trying to assuage your conscience by getting me to go back to him. Regardless of what happens between you can me her today, I'm ending it with him. It's not fair to either Logan or I to force the issue when I know there's something missing."
"I just can't be with you," he tried to be forceful, wanting her to leave it at that.
"Then why did you kiss me? Why did you sleep with me? Why did you talk about love?" her voice was almost at shouting level. Rory was barely aware of the volume of her voice, not thinking herself capable of it. But she had never found herself in this situation before, with someone she cared about so deeply. And anger helped drown out the hurt.
Tristan didn't say anything, just stared at her wordlessly. His jaw was clenched so tightly she couldn't believe that it didn't hurt. He wouldn't look her directly in the eyes.
"So let me get this straight," she continued on, on a roll, "You think you love me, you have feelings for me, we had some of the best sex ever, and that means we can't be together?"
"Essentially," he knew the word sounded 'bitchy' for lack of a better adjective, but he didn't know what to say to her without blurting it all out.
She could feel tears gathering, but she held them back, wrapping herself in anger. She crossed her arms and settled back. "You're going to have to do better than that Tristan," she told him bluntly. "This means too much to me to just walk away. The only way I'm leaving here is if you can tell me that I mean nothing to you, that last night meant nothing to you, and mean it. See, I'm willing to risk my pride for you." Her voice lowered, and the tears that she had been fighting threatened. "See at this point, I don't think I love you, I pretty much know."
In a way that declaration cost her more than sleeping with him had. Love wasn't something she tossed about lightly. She didn't know what to make of it, when he let out a loud, "Goddammit!" and swung his legs over the other side of the bed, away from her. She caught a glimpse of his naked form before he pulled on his pants and zipped them up. He turned violently to face her. "You want to know why I can't be with you? Why I've been fighting this from the moment I laid eyes on you? Why even all the love in the world won't make this work?"
His questions seemed rhetorical, but she answered, "Yes," anyway, refusing to blanch at his harsh tone.
"See Rory," his voice was loud even as he struggled into his shirt from the night before. "The easiest explanation is that I'm damaged goods. Really badly damaged it you want the truth. I'm not really fit for a relationship with someone like you. That's why it all just doesn't matter. If I really love you, I'll let you go."
"That's the biggest load…." She began to speak, but he cut her off.
"Don't say that, not when you don't understand," He stood with his hands on his hips. "It's not problems that can just go away. You don't get it."
"Then make me understand," her words were soft, but firm, challenging him.
He gave a humourless laugh. "Being in the military isn't GI Joe and saving the world; it's hell on earth, at least it was for me. I wouldn't do it again for anything in the world. Not even independence from my father was worth it all. If I had known ahead of time what I was getting into, I never would have signed up. Military school was nothing. When I went overseas I was still somewhat the cocky SOB that I was at Chilton. It changed me, and I came back a completely different person."
"It's that person I fell in love with," Rory moved on her knees across the bed, and held out her hand to him, but let it fall when he didn't respond.
"No," he was abrupt. "I'm not what you seem to think I am. I'm not a fit boyfriend for someone like you. I would make your life fucking miserable."
"What are you talking about 'someone like me'?" her tone was fairly furious.
He finally looked at her then, and took her hand. "Rory, you're the same person you always were. You're smart, you're intelligent, and you're so damn innocent I can't believe it. For lack of a better word, you're pure. I would take all that, and stomp on it, and make you into a bitter person. I would taint you. I refuse to be the one who does that to you. You deserve better."
"Fuck that," she swore for the second time, shocking him even as she pulled her hand back from him and poked him in the chest. "I'm not some pure white dove that you have to worry about. In case you didn't notice Tristan, I grew up."
"You got older," was all he said in a tired tone, oblivious to her fury. "Innocence isn't a bad thing Rory. Most would kill for it."
"I'm not that person anymore," her tone was insistent, tired of being classified as that by the world. "I won't deny that I was. I was the perpetual good girl. Don't condescend to me Tristan, I deserve more than that. Don't put me up on some pedestal."
"It's not about being 'good'," Tristan told her, not sure how to make her see the truth. "It's not that simple. You don't get it, you can't, and hopefully you never will."
"You want to know exactly how worldly I am now?" her voice was hollow, even as some tears slipped down her cheek. This wasn't how she pictured telling him about her past, had never really planned on bringing it up at all. "You remember when you asked me about Dean when we saw him at Luke's? As you probably noticed, I'm not a virgin, and I've never slept with Logan. I had sex with a married man Tristan, while his wife was at home waiting for him. My ex-boyfriend, Dean. Imagine that, I lose a lot of my innocence that night, not only literally, but sobbing on my front lawn while I alienated my mother too."
He was taken aback, he wouldn't deny it. He could tell how it was eating her up inside, and he wanted to reassure her, but that wasn't the primary goal in his mind. But if that was the most nightmarish thing she could come up with, she had no idea. "Sex with one guy, married or not, is irrelevant here Rory. If you want to play 'show me yours', I'd had sex with quite a few girls before I left Chilton, including some married society friends of my parents. But that's not what I'm talking about. Sex, despite the popular belief among teens, does not make you worldly. I was still innocent and clueless when I entered the military."
Rory wanted to hit him with something, make him see reason. She didn't even pay attention to his casual acceptance of her story about Dean. "Nothing you can tell me will scare me off; make me not want to be with you. I want to be in this with you for the long haul." She kissed him quickly, not giving him a chance to stop her, but he pulled away just as firmly.
She could almost see him snap as he continued on. "Nothing, huh? Don't make promises you can't keep."
"Nothing," she affirmed, only able to watch as he paced in front of her.
"If you think some ill-advised sex is the worst there is," he began to speak again, "You don't have a clue. Want to hear about the first time I had to kill someone Rory? That's a great heart-warming story. Oh, in military terms it was justified. He was about to shoot me with a rifle he had hidden in his car. But that doesn't change the fact that I took a human life. That I left a wife without her husband, a family without their father. I had to do it, but that didn't stop me from wanting to throw up as I saw his body lying there, blood pooling from his chest."
She started to say something, but he continued on. "Or how about I tell you about the wonderful times we had to raid civilian homes? That was a fun experience, let me tell you. Terrified families, scared we were going to kill them. I mean, any tip, valid or not, and we went in. Can't take any chances after all. Never felt so proud to be a soldier in my life."
"Ever been confronted with your own mortality Rory? It made for a nice Christmas last year when some insurgents tossed a grenade in the place where we were staying. If it hadn't miraculously turned out to be a dud, they would still be picking my body parts up."
Tristan was breathing heavily by that point, reliving all the memories that were haunting him. She reached out to rest her hand on his shoulder, wanting nothing more than to comfort him and take away some of the pain he was feeling, but he just took a step back, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt again, letting it slip off. She couldn't understand what he was doing.
"You wanted to know where I got these," his voice was back to being soft again as he indicated the scars that were on his chest and stretching around to his back. "I mean, who wouldn't be curious? Gruesome things. Great souvenir to bring home with me. Cause the memories weren't enough, I have to have constant physical reminders."
She wanted to say something, but knew he didn't want to hear it, not now. So she just sat in rapt attention as he continued. It was as if he was talking to himself as he ran a finger along the one scar on his chest. "We were dealing with an unruly crowd in Iraq," the words were soft, and almost didn't seem directed at her. "Happened occasionally. It was me and nearly my whole unit there, who'd I'd been with since basic training. The people were protesting, well I still don't know what they were protesting, but it usually had to do with us being there. I was a bit removed from the rest of them, dealing with a hysterical woman who was trying to hit me with her fists. That's was why I wasn't as close to the action as the rest of them."
He seemed short of breath as he went on. "I turned around, and that's when I saw the child standing in the center of the crowd. It took a moment to register what was happening, it didn't happen that often anymore, but the child was a suicide bomber. No better place than a large crowd, full of Americans. I had a clear shot, could have taken her down, but I hesitated. She was just a child. And that hesitation cost many people their lives that day. It would have cost me mine, but I was far enough away. I was just hit by a lot of shrapnel, but barely felt it. I went among the wounded, frustrated that I could do nothing to help them. I passed out on top of my friend Isaac who had been at military school with me."
Rory didn't even realize she was crying as she listened to him, not sure she wanted to hear anymore, but knew it was necessary for the both of them, him primarily. "I woke up in a military hospital 3 days later. They informed me I was lucky to live. See, three large parts of a building had hit me in the chest. One had even gone all the way through to the other side. Hence, the massive scars I have now. Lucky to live," he gave a derisive laugh. "I remembered immediately what had happened, no blocking it out for me. I didn't feel lucky to live at that point. I wanted to die like nearly everyone in my squad had. It was all my fault, because I hesitated. Soldiers, civilians, they all died because of me."
Rory didn't know what to say, just wanted to hug him, but he wasn't even looking at her, he was still looking transfixed at the scars on his chest. "I was transferred to a hospital stateside. Not far from here actually. Not that it made my parents visit me; I suppose that's one thing I can't really blame them for. It was too messy for them to deal with, beyond their capacities. But it didn't all end there. Every night I woke up sweating and panicked, haunted by dreams of that day. Those brilliant shrinks at the hospital recognized it for what it was. Post-traumatic stress disorder. Sort of a permanent condition. I still wake up with the nightmares."
And there it was, finally all out in the open. He had never told anyone about all his baggage before. He had tried with his parents, but they didn't want to hear it. He sounded defeated when he looked at her. "Still think there's nothing that could make you not want to be with me." He could see the tears on her cheeks.
"No, there isn't," Rory told him, aching. Aching for him. But her words were soft.
He took that as weakness, as a lie. "Want to hear about how I contemplated killing myself a couple times?" he was brutal in his honestly, wanting her to see, to understand why he wasn't fit to be with her, to be with anyone. "Those first months back were the worst of my life. And I dealt with it all by my goddamn self; just me and the doctors. When your sole support system is a bunch of quacks, you know you're fucked."
"Tristan," that was all she said, all she could say. She stood up slowly, scared. Not of him, never of him, but scared of how he would react to her. She walked up to him, and put her arms around him, refusing to let go even when he tried to back away.
"I don't want your pity," his tone was harsh. "That's not what this was about. I wanted you to see why this, you and I, won't work. I'm fucked-up Rory, majorly. Just go, go back to Logan, and be grateful I'm sparing you the disappointment that would come with me. I can't be the man you deserve."
"This isn't pity," she whispered the words as she kissed his shoulder. "This is love Tristan. I'm not that shallow. I love you for who you are. Scars, emotional or otherwise."
This wasn't how she was supposed to be reacting. She was supposed to be repulsed by the idea that he had killed people, that he was responsible for numerous deaths because he hadn't done what needed to be done. She was supposed to see that he was incapable of being the steady man that she needed, that we was simply broken. He tried to be gentle, but he could see the hurt on her face as he pried himself loose from her arms.
"What Tristan?" she wouldn't just let him retreat into his shell away from her. "Is that what you've convinced yourself of? That just because you've experienced more horror than most people should have to face in a lifetime, that makes you damaged for life? That because of all that you're not worthy of love? You're too intelligent to believe that."
"What are you going to do when I go through one of my depression cycles again? How about when the simple sound of a car backfiring sends me into panic mode cause it triggers the flashbacks? Nobody deserves to have to deal with that. I think of myself as a murderer more often than not. I need a shrink more than I need a girlfriend, I won't condemn you to that role."
"I think I get to make that choice," she told him quietly. "Don't tell me what I can or cannot handle. What am I supposed to do? Slink away just because you tell me too? I love you, and that isn't going away. Depression, nightmares, PTSD, it doesn't matter. You're the only one who can make me happy."
He shook his head, "I'll make you miserable more. Trust me, I know what I am."
"What you are? You're the best man I've ever met, and nothing you tell me will ever change that."
"I'll hurt you," he reiterated it again, then let out his selfish fear for not wanting to get involved, for letting himself be with her. "And I don't think I'll be able to survive it when you want to leave."
Tristan could see she wanted to protest, to reassure him, but he wouldn't let her. He was doing the right thing for both of them, even if she couldn't see it right now. He turned his back to her even as he said, "I'm going for a run. If you care for me at all, please, be gone when I get back." And with that he grabbed his runners, exiting the apartment, not caring that people would think him crazy if they saw him running in his formal clothes from the night before. He had caught the stricken look on Rory's face, and had to get away before he weakened.
As he shut the door behind him, he felt something on his face he hadn't felt since those first days in the hospital. Tears. He angrily brushed them away, telling himself he was doing the right thing. It was right for her, even if most of it was his own fear. He couldn't bear if he fell deeper in love with her, only to have her come to despise him. She should never have to see the darkness that threatened to overcome him on a daily basis.
He never heard her crying on the other side as he walked away.