Title: Fatherhood

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: I own nothing. ASP and the WB own Gilmore Girls and The Ataris own the song used at the bottom, "The Saddest Song".

A/N: This is a bit AU, sort of what I think would've happened if Chris hadn't stepped in and started acting a bit more like a father this season. It's sort of an AU where he kept treating her the way he was in Seasons 1-4 (was he even in Season Four?). I still think Rory's gonna need some serious therapy.

This was the best day of four-year-old Rory Gilmore's life: it was two days until her birthday, and her daddy had phoned to say that he was going to come down and spend the day with her and her mommy. They were going to spend the whole day together, the three of them, just like a real family. Like the families in books. Like the families in the books she took out of the library—the books with the smiling mommies and daddies who loved each other; the families where the daddy played with the daughter, taught her how to ride a bike and took her to buy a Barbie doll and to pick out a Hallowe'en pumpkin.

- - -

She skipped to school with a light heart that day, her hand clutched tightly by Lorelai's, the two of them sharing giggles and smiles and jokes.

"I love you, baby, have a great day," Lorelai kissed her daughter goodbye, and left, ignoring the usual curious whisperings from the other parents.

Rory went over to join Lane by the bookshelf, where Lane showed her a new book that the teacher had said they were going to read for story-time: Heather Has Two Mommies. Rory cocked her head, curious: How could someone have two mommies?

"It doesn't matter what a family looks like, just so long as they love each other," Ms. Rollins finished the story, smiling at her bright-eyed students. "Why don't we share our families with each other? Bobby, you first."

"I have a mommy and a daddy and a step-mommy. I live with my mommy. She says my daddy is a big--"

"What about you, Lane?" Ms. Rollins asked, hurriedly.

"I live with my mama, and my papa lives in South Korea."

"I live with my mommy and my daddy and our goldfish."

"I live with my step-mom and daddy and my baby sister."

"What about you, Rory?"

"I live with my mommy."

"What about your daddy?" asked a snub-nosed freckle-faced boy named Mark Finchter, "where does he live?"

Rory was baffled. She had no idea where her daddy lived. She'd overheard her mommy telling her daddy—in a very angry voice—that he lived in fantasy-land, but that couldn't be right. Something about Mommy's tone had sounded so wrong, and it had upset her very much to hear her parents fighting. "Daddy lives at…" she struggled to remember where Daddy lived, "university!" she finished triumphantly. She didn't think it was completely right, but she'd heard it mentioned that he was there or he was supposed to be there. She was going to go to university someday too; she would go to Harvard University. Maybe that's where Daddy was.

"My step-brother goes to university too!" chimed in Annie Reynolds, a blonde girl who Rory liked sometimes, "he's really old," she whispered in hushed, reverent tones, "He's 20."

"How old is your daddy?" asked Mark, curiously. All eyes turned to Rory, who squirmed uncomfortably, feeling like something was wrong with this picture.

"21," she said unsurely, "at least, that's what Mommy said. She's 21 too."

All of the kids stared at her with wide eyes. She began to feel unsure.

"He is 21," she insisted, "he turned 21 a few days ago. He phoned Mommy and he sounded all funny—he couldn't talk properly, he was slurring and saying silly things and Mommy got angry with him. I don't think Mommy likes him very much sometimes…" she trailed off, fighting back tears.

"All right class," the teacher said hurriedly, "So what we learned today is that all that matters is that families love each other, which I'm sure everyone's--"

"When was the last time you saw your daddy?" asked Megan Sanders, craning her neck to look at Rory.

Rory wracked her brain, trying to remember, "a few months ago…" she paused, trying to think of the month, "May?"

"I see my daddy everyday," bragged Janie Fertman.

"That's 'cuz you live with him," retorted Megan, whose parents were divorced, "but I see my daddy every weekend. That's weird that you don't see him very much."

Rory began to feel that something was very wrong with what was going on.

"I bet you don't even have a daddy," piped up Jeremy Stevens, who had a thick neck and a nasty expression on his face, "I bet you just invented him. I bet you don't even know your 'daddy''s name."

Rory felt her cheeks flush crimson, all of the blood rushing to her face, her little hands clenched into fists, "I do so have a daddy! His name is Christopher Haden and he's real!"

Ms. Rollins—who was, it should be noted, very young and this was her first teaching job—clearly sensed danger and tried to chivvy the children over to the arts and crafts centre, but failed.

"Are your parents divorced?" asked Lindsay Lister, who Rory sometimes played on the swings with.

"No," Rory was confused—she didn't know this word. "They aren't married."

"How can you have a baby if you're not married?" asked Annie.

Before her question could be hastily shot down by Ms. Rollins, Mark leapt into the conversation. "I bet your daddy doesn't even like you. He's never around. Your daddy doesn't love you, probably. He probably just feels ob-ob-oblib--igated to visit you."

Rory felt the hot prickling of tears at the corners of her eyes, and her lip began to quiver. A strange feeling of shame washed over her.

"Just leave her alone!" shrieked Lane, putting her arm around her best friend's shoulders, "It doesn't matter about her daddy, because she has the best mommy in the world. Just leave her alone!"

- - -

But it did matter about her daddy, she reflected later as she walked home with her hand encased in Mommy's. She'd show Mark Finchter. Daddy did love her, and he was coming to visit them soon. They'd be just like a real family—and maybe, one day, they would be a real family and Mommy and Daddy would live together and be married and they would all love each other, just like in the Heather book.

She felt the tears well up again, and she blinked them away. Daddy did love her. But if Daddy did, then why did he never visit? Why didn't Daddy want to live with them? Why didn't Daddy call? She ignored these questions. She would ask Mommy. Mommy would answer the questions. Mommy could answer anything. Mommy could fix anything and make anything better. Mommy was amazing.

"Hey, babe, why so quiet?" her mom jiggled her hand.

"Mommy, does Daddy like me?"

"Sweetheart, Daddy loves you! Whatever gave you the idea that he doesn't?"

"Then why doesn't he live with us?"

"Sweetie, your dad isn't ready for us full-time. We're a lot to handle."

"But one day, right?"

"Maybe, one day," she smiled sadly.

Rory was quiet for a while, but soon piped up again, "Mommy, Megan sees her daddy every weekend! How come I haven't seen Daddy in almost 6 months?"

Lorelai was quiet. "You'll have to ask your Daddy when he comes."

- - -

Rory had been up since 4:03 am. Her mommy always woke her up then, for their usual birthday morning ritual. She was wearing a dollar-store tiara and in her hand was clutched a brand-new copy of Anne of Green Gables and they had eaten cupcakes for breakfast, thanks to the Inn's new chef, Sookie. Mia had said that she looked very old and had given her a blue winter hat. It was now 9:00 am, and Daddy was going to be here any minute. Mommy said they would go and explore town in the morning, have a picnic lunch, and then they could do whatever she wanted in the afternoon. She was giddy with excitement, and could hardly sit still. The minutes ticked by, and still, no Daddy. An hour passed. Two, three, four more. They had their picnic lunch by themselves, laughing and rolling down the hill, feeding the swans and singing Happy Birthday.

- - -

"Make a wish!"

Rory closed her eyes, feeling the heat of the candles on her face. She wished with all of her heart that Daddy would show up for cake. She wished that Mommy and Daddy would love each other. She wished that she could see Daddy every weekend.

Rory blew out the candles on her chocolate cake. She really liked the new chef, Sookie. She was so nice and bubbly and called her kittycat.

She watched as Sookie cut up the cake and passed her a slice. It was tasteless to her—it would've tasted 1000 times better if Daddy had been there beside her, tickling her and joking around. She felt a tear trickle down her cheek, and quickly brushed it away in case someone saw. Surely Daddy would come.

- - -

"Alright, kiddo, time for bed."

"But, Mommy, what if Daddy comes and I'm asleep?"

"Then I promise to wake you up, but it's 10:00, sweetpea, and you can barely keep your eyes open."

Lorelai Gilmore lead her protesting daughter into bed, and tucked her in. "You're the best, coolest, sweetest daughter a girl could wish for and I love you so much," she kissed her forehead and paused, "and so does Daddy."

- - -

"Christopher Haden?" Lorelai spoke angrily into the payphone, but was greeted by an answering machine message, inviting her to speak at the beep.

"Christopher Haden, you had better have a damn good reason for not being here today, after you told your daughter you would be. She hasn't seen you in 6 months. You mean everything to her. She was practically walking on air for the past two days, she's been so excited. You've crushed her. I saw her crying when she was eating her cake. Today is her birthday, Chris, and you ruined it for her. I cannot believe you would do this. I'm too angry to even speak to you right now, but you better phone me back and give me a damn good reason why you weren't here. Try: I had a concussion; I was in outer space---you'd better have a damn good reason. I'm disgusted with you. She asked me yesterday if you loved her. She shouldn't even be asking that Chris. I actually thought Princeton might've changed you, but I guess I was wrong. You're a jerk for doing this to her."

- - -

25-year-old Rory Gilmore picked up the phone nervously. She and her therapist had both agreed that she was ready, but she really didn't think that she was. But it had to be done. Dean sent her a sympathetic look from across the table and squeezed her hand.

"You need to do this," he said softly.

"I know," she choked out. Taking a deep breath, she dialed the number and listened to it ring, the mechanical sound echoing in her head, mocking her. He was keeping her waiting now, just as he'd always done.

"Dad?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"Rory, hey! Listen, can I call you back…"

"No!" she choked furiously, "No! I talk, okay?"

"Alright…" he sounded taken aback.

"Why did Megan Sanders see her dad every weekend and I saw you a few times a year?"

"What? Who's Megan Sanders?"

"Megan Sanders from kindergarten. What was wrong with me, Dad? Why were you only ever interested in me and Mom in spurts? Why weren't you there?"

"Rory," he sighed, "Please try to understand…"

"No! I always understand," she stopped fighting her tears, letting them spill down her cheeks, leaving hot, salty trails on her pale skin. "I always understand, and I can't anymore! I don't understand—what was going on in your life that was so major that you couldn't even visit us once a month?"

She didn't wait for him to reply.

"Were you really so busy partying with your buddies that you couldn't even call? What about my fifth birthday, Dad? Or Christmas in 1994? Or my junior high graduation? Or, hell, my high school graduation? I was the goddamn valedictorian, Dad! And you weren't there. You've never been there, no matter how many times you promised you would be, you've never been there."

She broke down into full-out sobbing, then, just letting it all out.

"You weren't there for my college graduation, either. And where were you when I was all messed up? Where were you when I stole a boat and dropped out of Yale and didn't speak to Mom for 6 months? Why weren't you there? I needed you then Dad."

She paused, gulping for breath.

"And then you'd always come back, trying to act like everything was in the past, and everything would be forgotten and then after a few days you'd just leave again and ruin everything. Why, Dad? Were you ashamed of me? Did you not like me?"

"Rory, darling, it's never been that—I love you--"

"You love me, but you don't care."

"Rory, how could you think that?"

"I think it because it's what I've seen. You don't care, Dad, you've never cared."

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and at first, she thought he'd hung up.

"Rory, I'm so sorry."

"I wish that were enough, Dad, I really do."

- - -

Only two more days until your birthday
Yesterday was mine
You'll be turning five
I know what it's like
Growing up without your father in your life


So I pretend I'm doing all I can
And hope someday you'll find it in your heart
To understand why I'm not around
And forgive me for not being in your life


I remember waiting for you to come
Remember waiting for you to call
Remember waiting there to find nothing at all


Maybe someday you'll really get to know me
Not just from letters read to you
I pray I get the chance to make it up to you
We've got a lot of catching up to do

A/N: what thinketh you? Sorry that there've been no updates of Bringing Up Baby. I've been working on a bunch of other stories. I'll re-focus on BuB, but I think I'm going to try to finish the story before I post anymore chapters. Review!

A/N: also sorry if that story was too melodramatic, but The Ataris' The Saddest Song just makes me like that.