ADDICTION

Disclaimer – Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season. But if this Gilmore Girls Telemovie comes to pass, depending on how it goes I may forgive the shows creators for leaving it in the hands of David Rosenthal which ruined it all.

Summary - Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.

WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.

Necessary Background Information - Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)

Reviews – Thank you to: trorygirl, just hidden, Princess Mel, distorted realities, Nicole Katherine, GG Fan, londonluver, JustLikeAGilmore, skate4cancer, LeytonTilEnd, Curley-Q, starshine34, Meredith McDreamy, darcy007, darkvixen06, curlyk03, bubz22 & :D.

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ADDICTION

Chapter 5 - Rulers

Colin started coming over to the apartment more, and more. He had been a tough, inner city kid. Drug addict galore.

And baby, did he have connections.

Not only could he score us some good weed and rare pills (some even Tristan had never tried), but also he got us some hard stuff.

More specifically, coke.

It's scary. Making the transition, you know? I mean, you always think to yourself "yeah, I'll just do this, but it's not that bad because it's not crack, or acid, or anything like that," But when the option lays out before you, like a field of knives where you have to select the rubber one, then slit your throat with it.

So, I'm a little bit of a masochist. Sue me.

I remember when Colin pulled it out of his coat pocket and dropped it on the table, the precious powder carefully tucked away in a zip lock sandwich bag.

"Is that what I think it is?" Paris asked him, her eyebrows raised.

"Trust me, it's golden," Colin replied, taking out a small, rolled tube-like thing and snorting.

See, it probably sounds disgusting to you. Funny, it just makes me miss it.

It's much, much, much, much better than grass. Sure, it'll kill you much quicker, but damn, can it make you see.

We all had to try, of course.

Unfortunately, we all loved it.

After that, all our weed and pill money was spent on buying crack, as quickly as possible. And as awesome as it was, it wasn't cheap. Colin was respected and could get it reasonably priced, through some guy in New Haven. He told us he liked us, so he'd help us out.

Personally, I think the fact that Steph was fucking his brains out had a lot to do with it.

But still, he helped us out. I owe that much to him.

I think.

Well … it's complicated. See … he set us free to fly around in a world that him (and people like him) controlled. A world that you had to fight to succeed in. That can be hard.

It also didn't help that our new addiction was one that wasn't cheap.

We started to pawn things. Most of our trust funds were locked until we turned 21. None of us could hold down jobs longer than a month. Steph suggested we work at strip joints. Of course, Finn took that opportunity to point out the fact that Tristan would probably beat any man who even dared to look at Rory.

Yeah, that killed any enthusiasm in that field.

I guess that may have been when the stealing started. Not too much, just enough to get by. We had loaded parents. It seemed only fair at the time.

Parents with money are a very good thing. A very good thing.

I felt a little guilty at first, but the drugs helped take care of that. I guess I felt justified after a little while—they were the parents that had brought me into this world…the world that was constantly trying to break me. They owed me.

It sounds messed up. But it made perfect sense at the time.

Nothing major. Just some twenties from my mom's purse occasionally, over an extended period of time. Nothing so large she'd miss it.

The others worked on their parents too.

So that's how we got by. Stealing from our parents. My parents were very busy people. Business trips. Charity functions. They thought I was a good girl. I told them my grades dropping was because I wasn't feeling well. I snuck out of the house at night. They never missed me.

That's not the greatest feeling in the world. Being gone half the time, over-going a huge transformation in terms of appearance, and have an attitude adjustment…and your parents still don't care.

Yeah, I know, right? 'They care … they were just busy.' Save it. I've heard it already, and I'm pretty sure I'll go psycho on the next asshole who tells me that.

God, I would sell my own mother for a hit of something right about now.

The disgusting part is? We were naïve … even then. We were the most hard-care drug addicts in all of Hartford.

I walked in this club, one time, and the reaction was beautiful.

"Shhh," This one slut was whispering. "Here they come!"

The way she said they … it was so cool. It was like "Get out of the way! They'll kick your ass!"

Everyone in the room tried to look at us without us noticing anything.

Yeah … okay. You kind of notice when everyone in the room looks at you. Especially when they're trying to not look at you.

Did that even make sense?

Oh screw it.

Paris sauntered over to the bar stool and plopped down, sending the girls next to her a dangerous look, making them pale slightly and dash off to the other side of the room. "Jello shots. Lots of them," she ordered in her holier-than-thou way.

Steph plopped down on the other side of her. "Wait! She called to the bartender who had started to move off. "What color jello? I don't eat green. Are they green?"

Finn laughed and wrapped his arms around both Steph and Paris. "She likes red though," he chimed in, much to the dismay of the slightly nervous bartender.

"Louise likes red too," Logan chimed in, placing a hot kiss against my cheek. What? Was it a new trend to talk about the jello preference of your girls?

Steph giggled slightly as Colin came up beside her and started to trail kisses down her neck.

"Hey sexy," he muttered. Paris rolled her golden eyes at them, and turned back to look at Tristan.

Tristan, who was sending a death glare to a guy that had dared, laid eyes on Rory.

"Do you need something?" he snapped at the guy in his cool, low deadly tone. It sends chills up my arm thinking about it. Imagine seeing a person hanging on a tree, completely gutted. That's what his voice was implying right about then.

The guy, who wasn't small, smirked at him. "Nice looking piece of ass you got there, DuGrey," he said lazily, letting his greedy brown eyes roll over Rory, surveying her short black skirt. Tristan's grip on her waist visibly tightened and Rory sent a cold glance over in the jerk's direction.

Gasps were heard on all sides of the room.

"What the fuck do you want Dean?" Rory snapped at him, stepping away from Tristan slightly, much to his displeasure.

"I think you know what I want, Hayden … ," the bastard, hereafter known as Dean, smirked again.

God, this guy was annoying.

"Her name's Rory," Tristan said, his dark blue eyes absolutely glittering with craze and anger.

He was so possessive of her. She used to think it was the sweetest thing in the world, but I thought it was just sick.

"I'll call her whatever the fuck— " Dean began.

He never got to finish.

Tristan was on him in an instant, knocking him to the floor, punching him, drawing blood. The guy didn't even have a chance to fight back.

Punch, after punch, after punch.

The guy was down, but Tristan didn't stop.

Just punch after …

So much blood.

Can't think about it.

The guy lived. I think. Tristan narrowly missed getting arrested.

It only took that one time. We became a legend.

We were the bad mother fuckers. The ones you didn't mess with.

We ruled.

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