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:D, nk-number1actress, Nicole Katherine, Curley-Q, just hidden, JXB0208, enviedxl0ve, trorygirl, darkvixen06, bubz22, max.logan, Meredith McDreamy, Jackie, starshine34, londonluver, corruptedchic, avidtroryfan, veronicalogan, darcy007 & sara.

Hi I'm back! & a special thank you to trorygirl for continuing the posts! Please update AOS soon! I love that story so much!

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ADDICTION

Chapter 13 – Hating Life

Paris's death affected everyone more than Finn's did. Finn's death was more of a "Welcome to how much the world sucks" kind of thing. Paris's death was more of a "finding that there's no way out" kind of thing. There was no turning back. We couldn't suddenly transform our lives around. We were stuck.

So we existed. Steph, Logan, Tristan, Rory, and myself. The dingy apartment was not empty, by any means, but considering Tristan and Rory were shells of living people, they barely counted.

Tristan was going through this very bizarre state in his life where we had no idea how the drugs were going to affect him. He went through a period where he would not eat, sleep, or talk. Then he went through a brief period where he bashed the hell out of anyone who dared come within five feet of him and Rory. He was dangerous, and we kept away from him.

That was the way they wanted it.

I sat on the train, this one day, and there was this couple that looked exactly like Tristan and Rory. I think I may have been a tiny bit delusional, considering I hadn't eaten in two days, but they were so sweet. They were from the nicer part of town, and the girl had on a beautiful denim jacket with a light pink Rory sweater on underneath, and the guy was sweetly holding her hand. The guy's blonde hair was all nice and spiked, the way Tristan's used to be before he grew it out. They looked so happy.

And I hated them.

How the hell can be they happy?!? Don't they know the second they stepped off the train; the entire world was going to screw them over? But there they were, just sitting there, like a bunch of happy idiots. It wasn't even a drug induced euphoria.

They were in love.

Maybe that's why Tristan and Rory survived as long as they did. They were in love.

So, Tristan was crazy. Rory was in love. Paris and Finn were both dead, Logan was completely out of it.

That left Steph and I.

The whores. The prostitutes.

The bread-winners.

Shows what kind of people we are, huh?

I remember the day she came home after a long shift, and went to go put away all our money in the jar she had hidden.

It was empty.

"FUCK!" She cried, looking thoroughly panicked. "Logan!" She yelled, upset. "Get in here!"

He came out of the bathroom shuffling his feet looking hung over. "What?"

"Did you take any of this money?" Her voice was scared, like she was about to cry. She didn't want to face it— she didn't want to think about what she would have to do if he said no.

Logan's face paled noticeably. "Tristan and Rory." He whispered softly. "They went out on hour ago, right after I got home. I heard them moving around in here …"

Steph closed her blue eyes painfully and whispered an inaudible word.

The door handled jingled. They were home.

She opened her eyes and spun around to greet them as they walked through the door, Tristan's arm wrapped securely around Rory's waist, their empty, desperate eyes focused on the floor, walking quickly.

"Stop right there assholes!" Steph muttered through clenched teeth. Tristan tried to keep walking, but Logan blocked his path. Logan pushed me in front of the other door, so they couldn't leave.

"What are you talking about, Steph?" Tristan muttered, exhausted. He had a large scratch going down the side of his face. He had been in a fight.

"Where's my money. Where's my cut of the drugs? I know you took it!" She waved the empty jar in front of his face, her arm shaking with barely constrained hysteria.

"Leave him alone, Steph!" Rory snapped, glaring pointedly at her through weary blue eyes. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about, so leave him alone!"

"You!" hissed Steph. "You can shut the hell up! They're your drugs too, so I'm asking you the same question!"

"We don't have anything!" Tristan growled, his face getting angry, red splotches forming along his cheeks. He tried to push Logan away, but Logan was too quick. He quickly reached into Tristan's jacket pockets and produced a large bag filled with heroin.

Fucking pounds of the stuff.

He sent a quick pissed off look at Tristan, who, at this point, was enraged.

"Give it back to me." He hissed in a dangerously low tone, like a ticking time bomb, just waiting to explode.

"Give it back?" Steph shrieked, beyond angry, curbing the strong urge to hit him. "Give it BACK?!? Why the hell should I? It's all mine, bastard! Louise and I are the ones out on the streets, selling our bodies, trying to feed you ungrateful bastard while you're here fucking Rory!" Her pale blue eyes were getting the same look to them as they had gotten when she had seen Paris for the last time. "I'm your sister!" she choked out, trying to control the tears spilling over. "I'm your sister!" she repeated again, before collapsing to the ground in sobs.

Tristan just ignored her. "Logan," He said, his teeth clenched. "I'm giving you one last chance. Give me my stash."

Logan raised his eyebrows and shot him a defiant look. "Or what?" He snapped. "You'll kill me?"

Rory pulled a gun out of the back of her jeans and levelled it at Logan's head. "No." She said, her voice dead calm. "I'll kill you." Her baby blue eyes were deeply pained. She hated what she was doing, she hated it. But she had no choice. Logan was threatening the man she loved. They needed the drugs. Logan didn't.

Or, I think that's what she was thinking.

I paled and remained frozen in horror standing in my spot guarding the door. All I can remember thinking is "If she shoots Logan, she'll shoot me too." My best friend. My sister. My girl. Rory. She was holding a gun levelled at my boyfriend's head, fully prepared to pull the trigger.

God, I hated my life.

Logan stared at the duo stunned before unceremoniously tossing the drugs at Tristan, and raised his hands above his head in defeat. Rory closed her eyes and allowed a few tears to slip down, the gun still pointed at Logan's head.

She hated her life too.

Tristan gently encircled her waist with his arm and kissed her tears away. Then, casting one more undiscernible look at his sobbing sister upon the floor, he pulled Rory inside their bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

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