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, Jackie, bubz22, londonluver, LeytonTilEnd, veronicalogan, just hidden, JXB0208, nk-number1actress, Princess Mel, max.logan, peace love thc, Curely-Q, coffeeaddict1515, Meredith McDreamy, freelancer starbuck:D, corruptedchic, starshine34, darcy007 and darkvixen06.

Note: This is trorygirl posting for rory.huntzburger while she's away on holidays with a lack of computer and internet. She still wanted to keep the story going and finish it quickly. So she asked me as a favor to keep the updates coming with chapters she's already pre-typed. Thank you all for the reviews! rory.huntzburger loves them!

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ADDICTION

Chapter 10 – Adverse Reaction

Summer.

The whore.

Tristan would have never been interested in her. Ever. Period.

And Summer, like Paris, hated that. And also, like Paris, hated the girl who actually had him.

Rory.

I was with them when Summer first came into the picture. We were at some club in LA, and Rory had gone to the bathroom. The slut, finding Tristan alone, sauntered up to him.

"Hey baby," She said provocatively. "What's your name?"

"Fuck off, slut," He spat at her, his eyes careless. She wasn't Rory. That's all he cared about.

She looked taken aback. It was clear that no guy had ever turned her down before.

Rory, whose timing is always perfect, came back at that particular moment.

"Hey," She said, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a kiss that would make Madonna blush.

"Hey," He replied, his voice throaty, as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "You want to go back to the apartment now?"

Summer didn't make a move to leave. I can't figure out if she was stupid and didn't take the hint, or if she was in shock because Tristan didn't want to screw her pathetic ass.

"Who's that?" Rory asked, jerking her chin in the direction of the aforementioned slut.

Tristan just shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know, don't care," He said.

"Always so rude, Tristan," she said, kissing him again.

"Tristan?" Summer asked, interested. Okay, damn. You think I need therapy? You'd have a field day with this chic.

They left, like, right after that, but there was something in her eyes that told me it wasn't over. I remember talking to Rory about it.

"Please, that bimbo?" She said laughing. "She's just upset because Tristan didn't want to touch her pathetic ass.

She was so quick to cast it off as nothing. But it wasn't nothing. It was definitely something.

Not something between Summer and Tristan, at all. I mean, Tristan was Rory's. He belonged to her and she belonged to him. That was pretty obvious. But Summer was the something that shook up Rory's world, made her start questioning everything around her.

They saw her again a few days later, and this time Summer didn't wait until after Rory had left to hit on him. That pissed Rory off. No one messes with her like that.

"That bitch!" She hissed furiously when they got back to the apartment. "I can't believe her! It was like I wasn't even there!"

"Please," Tristan told her, rolling his blue eyes. "Like I would ever touch that."

Rory eventually calmed down, of course. She never could stay mad for very long. All she had to do was shoot up, and bam, she was calm.

That only lasted until the night Summer followed Tristan and Rory home.

"Are you going to invite her in?" Paris asked, taking her turn to stare through the peep-hole into the hallway where Summer stood waiting.

"Hell no!" Steph snapped, annoyed wanting the whole matter to be done with. "She looks … dirty."

Paris just shrugged and cocked her head to the side curiously. "Does she have any drugs?"

Steph paused a second before opening the door a little. "Hey." She said. "Do you have any drugs?"

Most people would have been a little weirded out at that question, but Summer just shrugged. "Not on me." She told them.

Steph promptly slammed the door in her face. "Nope. No drugs." She told Paris.

"How about cigs?" Paris said, turning from Steph to the door to yell through it. "Hey! Slut girl. Do you have any cigs?"

"Paris, don't make her think like she can stay here," Rory told her. "She's annoying enough already." Paris narrowed her golden eyes, and started to open her mouth, but decided against it. Tristan was home (and I use the word "home" in the loosest sense), and he hated it when anyone insulted his beloved Rory.

Deep down inside Tristan, I think he was flattered at the fact Summer was obsessing over him. And I think Rory knew that, and it made her insecure. Or at least, that's my theory. I could be wrong.

Insecurity and Angel Dust are a bad, bad thing.

Again, getting ahead of myself.

The next night, they ended up going out to a rave, and I ended up following them, seeing how Logan was spent from the wall-banging sex we'd had that day.

Rory had only done Fairy Dust in low, low, low amounts. It was too costly and she wanted the money for heroin.

She went off to find some, when out of nowhere comes the Supreme Slut herself. Summer.

She was obviously drunk. Or high. Or hell, maybe she was just being Summer. But she threw herself down on Tristan's lap and started doing … well … yeah.

It took Tristan a minute to realize what was going on, and being a guy (and high at that) he didn't push her away immediately until he realized what she was doing. And that she wasn't Rory.

Rory, unfortunately, saw it happen.

Her face. I will never forget her face. It just twisted into this grimace, like she was physically hurting. She ran out the door.

Tristan followed her, yelling at her, demanding to know what was wrong. All the way back to the apartment, they yelled, screaming at each other, while I followed a few paces behind.

"What the fuck did I do?" Tristan growled, walking quickly trying to keep up with Rory who was walking at warp speed.

Rory stopped incredulous and turned to face him angrily. "She was fucking down on you, you bastard!"

She started walking off again, while Tristan ran after her. "And I told her to get off!"

"To get you off, you mean! Don't touch me! You asshole!"

And they continued this until they busted into the apartment, slamming the door very loudly behind them.

And it took about that much time for the dust to kick in.

"Why are you being such a bitch? I have no interest in that slut!" Tristan yelled at Rory in frustration.

"You sure seemed interested!"

Tristan rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his golden locks tiredly. "Will you PLEASE shut the fuck up?"

Rory's eyes suddenly snapped, like something in side of her had just been broken. Tears welled up in her doe blue eyes and threatened to spill over.

It had kicked in.

"Yes," she whispered finally. She gained voice, and reached over to throw whatever she could find at him while he ducked behind the couch. "Yes!" She screamed her voice full of rage and hostility. "I'll shut the fuck up! I'll just get the fuck out of your life so that way you can go around and fuck whatever ten cent store whore you want!"

She threw herself into the bathroom dramatically, and locked the door.

Steph came up behind me as I stared dazedly at the bathroom door. "What did she have?" She whispered into my ear, concerned.

Paris sidled up beside Tristan, trying not to be too smug. "Trouble in paradise?"

I scrunched my eyes tight, trying to remember what she had taken. I couldn't remember. Then it hit me.

"Dust." I whispered to her in stunned realization. Steph's eyes widened in horror.

"Fuck." She muttered under her breath, and attacked the door with her fists. "Rory!" She screeched, banging against the door. "Rory, baby, listen, don't do anything! I know you want to die. But please, don't cut yourself."

We heard the sound of a glass breaking, and huge sobs coming from the inside of the door. Steph pounded the door, and then turned back to Tristan.

"She took dust, she's probably going suicidal!" She snapped. That registered something in Tristan's eyes.

"Rory, open the fucking door!" Tristan said, sounding almost panicked. His eyes didn't look so pissed off now. They looked worried.

Steph looked equally as worried as she pleaded desperately. "Rory, please. Don't cut yourself! Don't go for the wrist or the throat, okay? You don't want to do it!"

Paris, who was pleased by the initial confrontation, looked thoroughly put out. "Let the fucking bitch bleed to death," she snarled, turning away from the concerned group.

Big mistake.

Tristan stopped mid-pound and turned around, his face full of malice and hate. "You fucking bitch!" He hissed, the venom dripping from his voice. I don't think he had ever hit a girl before.

He did it so well.

He backhanded Paris and sent her flying across the couch. She let out a startled cry.

"What the hell did you just do?" Steph gasped shocked and terrified, for the first time in her life scared of her step brother.

Tristan picked Paris up by the shoulders and flung her against the door furiously. "I don't care if you are like my sister," he hissed at her, his blue eyes blazing in anger. "You ever say anything like that again, and I'll break your neck, got it?"

Paris nodded her face deathly pale; her eyes squeezed shut, tears of pain seeping through them.

When I say pain, I don't mean the physical kind.

Tristan killed Paris. He didn't choke her, he didn't break her neck, he just gave her a reason to stop living.

"Tristan!" Steph snapped, breaking everyone out of their shocked trance. "Help me get this fucking door open!"

He sent a final glare to Paris, and brushed past me. I was scared shitless— of everything. Of him … of losing Rory.

Everything.

He used every ounce of rage he had, and he slammed into the door, banging it open.

There sat Rory, in the midst of broken glass, with long, deep gashes all over her once-smooth porcelain skin. She looked up at him, her frame suddenly too thin, with the most pitiful expression on her face. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she had blood all matted in her long brown hair.

I gasped in horror, and reached towards her, but Steph's hand reached out grabbing my wrist to stop me.

Tristan entered the small dingy bathroom, bending down and scooping her up in his broad arms. He slammed the door shut, and I could here the trickle of the shower starting up.

He was going to take care of her.

I could hear murmured soothing loving whispers coming from the other side. "Don't you ever do that to me again. I love you. Hang on baby, let me take care of you." Etc.

"Is that what I have to do?" Steph and I both turned towards Paris. Her golden brown eyes were still closed, protecting the unshed tears from falling to their death.

"What?" Steph answered carefully, her tone gentle. She could recognize pain when she saw it.

"Cut myself all over. Cut myself until I bleed. Or would that even be enough still? I could be on the ground right in front of him, bleeding, and he still wouldn't love me."

"Par," Steph said, slowly walking towards the girl's shrunken silhouette on the couch. "He didn't mean it. He was just upset. Don't let it get to you."

"He hit me!" Paris spit out at her, shooting daggers at Steph. "He hit me!"

I looked over at Steph, and it kind of hit us too. Tristan was capable of hurting. Hell, he'd kill us if we'd provoked him. He was dangerous.

But what the hell could we do? I mean, doctor, tell me what I could have done! Just leave? I wasn't going to leave the apartment. We had no real source of money! Sure, I could take what little money we had left and leave, but what about Rory? She was my best friend. My sister. I was the one who had gotten into this whole mess in the first place. I couldn't leave her. And she, she would never leave Tristan. She loved him too much.

And I can tell by this shocked look on your face doctor that you think my situation was bad. Well, let me tell you something. You don't even know half of it. It got worse, if at all possible.

See, what they don't tell you, can kill you. Drugs take away your happiness.

And now, I'm not saying it like "You're on drugs, you're unhappy." That's total bullshit, we all know that. I'm saying it exactly like it sounds. Drugs take away your ability to be happy. That's why all you med types prescribe me anti-depressants. Nothing makes me happy anymore. The three years of drug use were finally catching up to us. And they were finally taking their effects.

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