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: Curley-Q, JXB0208, JustLikeAGilmore, peace love thc, Nicole Katherine, finnlover, nk-number1actress, loganzahotie707, veronicalogan, darcy007, Meredith McDreamy, Jackie, starshine34, max.logan, bubz22, trorygirl, londonluver, avidtroryfan, darkvixen06 & sara.

Posted by trorygirl on behalf of roryhuntzburger.

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ADDICTION

Chapter 12 – Fall Apart

Prostitution isn't all that hard.

You just have to keep up mental blocks. You have to pretend you're just getting off on some drug. Or you pretend you're with your boyfriend. You just- …

You know what? I'm not getting into that.

Just know that I did it. Just know that I tried to give back to them what I had taken away from them.

Tristan and Rory— Oh God, it breaks my heart to even think about it.

Rory was just skin and bones. God, she just looked so sickly and pale. She was forgetting to eat, and I think she was lying to Tristan about it. Her usually bright blue bubbly eyes were sunken in, and her eyes looked huge in contrast to her head.

Tristan's blonde hair had grown out significantly, almost touching his shoulders and his face took on this sharpness from the heavy drug use. They were both disgusting and in need of a shower, but I don't think they noticed. Tristan pulled away from all of us after the confrontation with Steph. I think he realized what a monster he had become, that he was anything remotely like his father William, the fact he could be consider worse ... I think it terrified him.

Whatever the reason, he clung to Rory. More than ever before. Which was rather convenient because Rory clung to him, too. They had to be within touching distance of each other, or they'd both get paranoid. Logan claimed that they were addicted to each other.

No one argued.

I cannot tell you how often I tried to talk to Rory, but it was no use. I only ever saw her when she tiptoed out of their bedroom, with Tristan behind her, her face looking so pale and young.

Paris noticed that. She noticed everything about Tristan, and whether she liked it or not, Rory was a part of Tristan. She observed everything from Finn's old corner of the room, her eyes pained. She had loved Tristan. Tristan hit her. What else was there to do?

She didn't smile. She didn't eat. She didn't even get high. She just sat in the corner of the room, her eyes never faltering, staring at the door leading into Tristan and Rory's room.

"I sometimes dream it had been me." She whispered one day into the air. I don't even think she knew anyone else was in the room, but I was. "That he'd hold me like that. That he'd whisper in my ear like that. But I know it won't. He hates me. He hates every one of us except for her." Quick tears spilled down her pale cheeks and she didn't even try to wipe them away. "I should have loved Finn," She whispered, her golden fire eyes shutting closed slowly as silent tears continued to trek down her face. "I should have loved Finn."

I wish I had been nicer to her, now that I think about it. I never really tried talking to her. I mean … she was Paris. The Ice Bitch. What was I supposed to do, extend my hand and give her a bullshit smile saying "Let's start all over again, Par."

I never was her friend. So it makes no sense that I'd be the one to find her.

I had just gotten home from "work" as Steph called it. She had needed some more drugs, so she told me she was going to meet me at home later.

I had to pee. It sounds ridiculous, but I had to pee.

I opened the door, and there she was, Paris's pale flesh and long blond hair swimming in a sea of blood, upon the cracked tiles of the bathroom floor.

Paris's blood.

She had set it all up for Tristan to find her. The note was for Tristan resting on the bathroom table top. I think a part of her was hoping he'd find it, and suddenly have this realization that he was really in love with Paris all this time and not Rory, kill himself, and they'd burn in hell together.

Truthfully, he would have stepped over her body and gone to the bathroom.

Oh my God. That was awful. I didn't mean that.

I didn't mean that.

I just … I need to view Tristan as this selfish bastard. This issue I have. Ask Doctor Number 1 why.

I think I let out a shocked scream and fell down onto my knees, desperately trying to find a pulse. I just got my shaking hands covered in blood.

Never try to find a pulse in the wrist on a person who has slashed their wrists. It'll give you a feeling that will haunt your dreams for the rest of your life.

It was useless, anyway. She was dead a long time before I came in.

I freaked out, crying hysterically kneeling on the bathroom floor as I tried to shake Paris awake. I mean … the corpse of a girl I had known forever was sitting in the bathroom of our apartment. What was I supposed to do?

Thankfully, Steph walked in a few minutes later before I got too crazy. I managed to stop my shaking and turned to face Steph.

I'll always remember her reaction. She walked to the bathroom door, clamped her hand over her mouth, and let the shocked tears spill from her blue eyes down her face. Then, avoiding getting in the blood, she bent over and gave the blond girl a soft kiss on the forehead.

"Sweet dreams, Par." She whispered, her voice wavering slightly. She turned to me, slowly, her eyes filled with pain. "Get Logan." She told me. "We can't call the coronary. They'll just call the police. He has some friends that will clean up this mess."

To this day I don't know if she meant "mess" as in Paris's body or as in all the blood. I guess it doesn't really matter.

Rory felt awful. She blamed herself. Which was highly coincidental considering Tristan considered it to be his fault. He just held Rory close and buried his face in her brown mangy hair.

Logan was devastated. Paris had been his sister, after all. I mean … why wouldn't he be devastated?

Some shady looking characters came in to clean up the blood and take her away, and stuff. I couldn't watch, so I just left the apartment and went to a club. I came back a day later, after I was sure everything was all gone.

Things were getting worse by the day. And then came the day we discovered how much of our cash was missing.

And then things just fell apart.

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