Luke POV

Tristan arrived at the diner at 10 am, looking around for Rory. He looked a little confused when he didn't spot her, and walked over to me, "Where's Mary?"

"Upstairs, I'll go and get her in a moment," I told him, "Do you want coffee?"

He nodded, "Yes please."

I filled a mug and passed it to him, "See that table in the corner with the rocking chair? That's where she'll sit, so go and wait for her over there."

I then walked up the stairs to get Rory, finding her curled up on the couch with the TV on. She was awake, but not really with it. I sat down next to her and put my hand on her shoulder, startling her slightly.

"Tristan's downstairs, are you up for dealing with him?" I asked, and she nodded.

"Yeah, it'll do me some good," She told me, standing up and stretching. She turned the TV off, and headed for the door, before coming back for her blanket. It was old and worn from years of comforting her, but she had refused for me to replace it, telling me that it made her feel safe.

I returned to work and she joined Tristan in the corner, immediately beginning to compare notes to see what she had missed. They were talking quietly, their heads close in a comfortable way like they had known each other for years. I watched as she asked him to clarify something and he explained it to her, pointing to something on a previous face, and I watched as she understood it, her eyes lighting up.

I could tell that he cared about her just from how he was acting. He had moved his chair around so it was right next to her, and he was constantly touching her in little ways that she seemed to like but also made me want to kill him. He had instantly fixed her blanket when it slipped from around her shoulders, and he was constantly making sure she was okay because even though she was far from okay, he wanted her to be as okay as possible. More so than Dean, anyway.

And thinking of Dean, I noticed that he had walked past the window and spotted Rory with Tristan. He came in, stormed up to her and angrily asked her who he was.

The way he spoke made her shrink back in her seat, the fear written all over her face. Tristan initially looked at Rory, saw the look on his face, and stood up before I could get to them, "I'm Tristan, I've been helping Mary with her schoolwork. I assume that you're Dean?"

"Why you? You can't even get her name right, why couldn't she pick someone who actually likes her?"

The 'and preferably female' went unsaid, but I sensed it in there. I stepped in, not having the patience for this today, "Come on Dean, let's go."

I practically shoved him out the door and pulled it closed behind me, not wanting Rory to hear what I was going to say, "You know that Rory is having a rough time with her father right now; she doesn't need you piling on and criticizing the only person she's managed to make friends with."

"Oh please," He snapped, "He calls her Mary, and she told me what that generally means. He just wants to get in her pants as some sort of conquest!"

"Look at them," I told him, catching sight of her sobbing in Tristan's arms, "You scared her enough to put her in tears. That is how fragile she is right now. And he knows what she's going through; he's been there himself and he's trying to be helpful. His personal feelings on the matter don't seem to be coming into it."

"I'm done. I have no intention of being strung along when she's clearly interested in someone else."

I returned to the diner, walking over to the pair in the corner, "He's gone and won't be coming back."

A fresh wave of tears started, and Tristan held her closer, almost like he was protecting her. He was speaking to her so softly that I couldn't hear him, and I left them to it, feeling like I was intruding. I kept my eyes on them almost at all times, and even when she settled back in her chair, she continued holding his hand, refusing to let go.

Why do I trust this kid with her? I trusted him more than I trusted Dean and I couldn't put my finger on the why, like there was a missing piece to the puzzle. I knew he had been bugging her before the incident with her father and he had almost gone under a personality transplant (Lorelai's words, not mine), but I still trusted him, even though I really shouldn't.

At about 2 pm, Lorelai burst in, begging me for coffee. I narrowed my eyes at her, suspicious of her real intentions, and when she looked over at Rory and Tristan, who were in some deep conversation about books, I knew she was here to check out the pair.

"They seem good together," She said with a smile, but then she frowned, "Was Rory crying earlier?"

I nodded, "Dean came by, got angry and scared her. He won't be coming back."

"That lasted long," She said, and then sighed, "I need to get back to work, but I wanted to see how she was doing. She seems pretty good to me, and he seems to have relit that spark in her."

She left, and as I watched the pair in the corner, I knew she wasn't wrong. Even though her eyes were still red and puffy, they were brighter than they had been in weeks, and she seemed alive. While she has smiled when she's supposed to smile and been with it enough to be a person, she hasn't been alive. There was no fire, no happiness, no life.

But now, looking at her, she seemed alive. She was animatedly talking about her favourite books and arguing her choices with a passion I hadn't seen in almost a month. She was gesturing with her hands in a way that she does when she's passionate, and she... she seemed like my baby girl. And while I wanted to say that it was her strength, I knew that the blond boy sat next to her was part of the reason why.

Before Tristan left, he approached me, "I would like to take her to the Chilton dance next week, but I am unsure whether I could keep her safe, especially after yesterday. How do you feel about this?"

"I think we can work something out, but give me a few days to actually make a plan."

He smiled widely, "Thank you, sir."

He left just as Lorelai came in from work. She kissed me softly before walking over to Rory and helped her put her books away. I sorted myself out as they did that, and I joined them on the walk home since the diner was capable of coping without me for an evening.

When we arrived home, we found Emily sat on the porch steps. She looked absolutely distraught and had apparently decided to sit there until we came home. I wrapped my arm around Rory, the sudden urge to protect showing through and I planned on ignoring her as that's what Lorelai and I had decided last night.

She stood up on shaky legs as we walked past her, and I unlocked the door for Rory to go in, not wanting her to be a witness to this.

"I didn't mean to hurt her," She said, her voice breaking, "I thought that prison would be enough to change him, and he said he had. And if something happens to her because of my mistake, I will never forgive myself."

I looked at Lorelai, knowing that I needed to take my cues from her. Lorelai stared at her mother, her face almost completely emotionless, "Good."

From there, she walked into the house and I followed, shutting and locking the door behind me.

AN: I was obviously depressed when I wrote this chapter.