A/N: Alrighty, peeps (lol, what a funny word!). Here is chapter nine, this one's really long and I'm sure that after you read the ending, you'll all want to kill me (either that, or take away my writing utensils! Whatever floats your boat…)
Sorry to Jayde. Lol, I did thank you twice! Once of us is hyped on java and the other one desperately needs sleep! Sorry again!
I'm glad to see, as smile pointed out, that you guys really like certain sentences or lyrics. Thank you! It really motivates me to pay close attention to my writing and song selections.
And for my disclaimer: I don't own anything on Gilmore Girls (if I did, CMM would be in every single shot!) Nor do I own Buddha (lol!), Johnny English, or "Let Me In" by Save Ferris which are all featured in this chapter (good song btw!). Nothing. Zip. Nada.
Enjoy!
Chapter 9:
Broken
"Lorelai, there you are!" Lorelai cringed as her mother, Emily Gilmore, gave her a stern look. "You're late. Again."
"Sorry, Mom." Lorelai gave her an apologetic look and shrugged her shoulders. "Richard Simmons called me; he has this new workout that he wants me to try. It's called 'Buns of Platinum'. Catchy, eh?" Another firm look. "Then Godzilla decided to take the I95, too, so I was stuck behind his large, green, scaly butt the whole time. And, just to make things worse, this old guy in the car beside me kept giving me these gross looks so I was forced to stop at a costume store so I could travel here safely, in cognito."
"You stopped for coffee again, didn't you?" Emily didn't even bother listening to that manic explanation. She knew her daughter too well.
Damn, Loerlai thought in annoyance. "Now, whatever gave you that idea?" Ever since her parents had agreed to help pay for Rory's tuition at Yale, Lorelai had been forced into these Thursday night dinners. I could be at home right now, having a mud bath or watching oompa loompas dance across my television screen!
Emily resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Come into the dinning room, Lorelai. Dinner is served."
After greeting her father and suffering through the six-course meal, Lorelai was relieved to she the top-of-the-line danishes brought to the table.
"So who is this new boy that Rory's with?" Lorelai had been hoping that her mother had forgotten about that phone conversation. You just had to slip up and tell her didn't you, Gilmore? She berated herself. That's it, no more coffee for you! Lorelai's eyes widened at her inner-voice's harsh command. What am I saying? No more coffee?! I deserve the rights to every Second Cup in North America after dealing with my parents for my whole life.
"What's this about a boy?" Richard Gilmore's ears perked up as he surfaced from his paper to ask her that question. "I hope he comes from a respectable family."
"I'm sure he does, Dad." Lorelai replied as she forced a smile. After all, her father was much more harmless than her mother was. "They've only gone on one date, Mom. Although they've set up another one tomorrow."
Emily's eyes widened in shock and pleasure. "Well, what's he like?"
"He's fat, bald, and has a tattoo that says 'Rub My Belly For Good Luck'!" Lorelai saw her father's eyes bulge at her sarcastic remark. "Oh no, wait! That was Buddha."
Emily sighed. "Lorelai, this is a very serious matter."
Lorelai rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I'm not sure what he's like Mom. I haven't met him yet." Emily gave her a disapproving look. "From what Rory has said, I've gathered that he's a very handsome, very well-mannered guy."
"Well, that's delightful!" Richard exclaimed, then leaned forward and lowered his voice as if they were discussing a conspiracy theory. "But what is his family like?"
Resisting the urge to make a comparison between Tristan's family and the Osbournes, Lorelai replied. "I don't know dad, Rory hasn't met any of them yet."
"Oh, well then does he go to Yale? Because that would make him a fine young man."
"No, Dad," Lorelai spoke hesitantly. "Rory said that he never got the chance to go to University, although he's her age. He has a job instead and supports himself." Lorelai, prepared for the worst, silently counted down in her head. Three…two…one.
"Doesn't go to university?!" Emily squealed. "Well, that simply isn't acceptable. Why ever not?"
"I'm not sure, Mom." Lorelai struggled to reassure her crazy parents. From what she'd heard, Tristan was a really nice guy and she didn't want her parents to get in between Rory and her dream man. "Maybe his family couldn't afford to send him to University."
"That's absurd!" Emily continued. "If that were the case and he truly wanted to go he could have worked hard enough to get the scholarship!"
"This is nonsense!" Richard exclaimed and Lorelai sighed. "What is his name, Lorelai?"
Oh no, now he's going to research Tristan's family tree. "Tristan, Dad. Tristan Dugrey."
Instead of another onslaught of more cries of outrage, like Lorelai had expected, there was silence. Absolute, complete, utter silence. Lorelai glanced from one parent to the other as she listened to the grandfather clock's persistent tick-tock, tick-tock.
Then, Emily leaned closer to Lorelai and spoke in a low, grave voice. "What did you say?"
"Tristan DuGrey. Are you guys not hearing me? I told you that you should invest in earplugs because-" But here parents cut her off.
"Richard!"
"Emily!" They spoke in unison.
"It couldn't possibly, could it?"
"I think it very well may be."
"Okay, who are you guys and what have you done with my parents?"
Emily ignored the comment and, instead, asked with wild eyes, "Has Rory described what he looks like?"
"Yeah…She said he was really good-looking. Tall, blonde hair, blue eyes." Her parents looked at her unbelievingly. "Okay, you guys are seriously wigging me out. Tell me what's going on!"
"Lorelai, do you remember Janlen DuGrey? You're father used to do business with him?"
Lorelai racked her brain until she recalled a memory of a caring old gentleman with dancing blue eyes. "Yes, I think so. He was a nice guy but his son was such a jerk!" Lorelai was saddened by her next memory. "Didn't he die a few years ago?"
"Yes," Emily answered solemnly. "The beginning of May in Rory's senior year. He was a charming man –"
"And an incredible business partner!" Her father cut in.
"Yes," Her mother continued. "But you're right Lorelai, his son, William, as well as his wife, are horrid people. Unfaithful, cruel, vain!" Her mother ranted on and Lorelai listened intently.
"William had two sons by two different marriages, they were half-brothers. The first was much older and was bred to be the perfect heir to the DuGrey corporate 'throne'. The second, Priscilla's son, wasn't expected or wanted but, of course, they couldn't abort – what a scandel that would have started! The poor boy was completely neglected, the whole family tried to cover it up but word gets around." Does it ever, Lorelai thought grumpily.
"He became quite reckless and developed a reputation at school, though I believe his behaviour was a cry for help – not that anyone ever listened. William and Priscilla fought constantly at home, insulting each other and their son. They often vacationed in different places and the boy was left completely alone. I would know, one of our servants used to work for the DuGreys and she told me everything.
"Two months before the boy turned eighteen and graduated from Chilton – you remember Chilton, don't you?" Lorelai groaned. Yes, she had suffered a couple years through that terrible school.
Emily continued with her gossip. "Well, two months before that Janlen took a turn for the worst and died. The boy was absolutely heartbroken; he tried to hide it but we could all see it. He was left with the funeral preparations since both his parents were in Morocco and that was the last place anyone ever saw him."
"What happened to him?"
"Well, when William and Priscilla returned they said that he had been sent to live with relatives in Switzerland but I always had the sneaking suspicion that he had run away. God knows many people would if they were in his position."
"Are you telling me that that boy is Tristan?" Lorelai's heart wept for the poor kid. Was that what he had been keeping from Rory? She could understand why he would be ashamed to talk about it but Rory had the right to know.
"Quite possibly, Lorelai. I'm almost certain it may be." Emily stopped there, proud of herself for having solved the mystery of Tristan DuGrey. But then she had a thought. "Oh, it turned out that his acceptance letters arrived after he was sent away and he was accepted to Harvard, Princeton, and," Emily paused. "Yale."
"Hmm." Richard mumbled in satisfaction and returned to his paper. Lorelai excused herself, walked out into the back gardens, and pulled out her cell phone. She knew she had heard that name before…
I have to tell Rory.
~~~~~~~~
"I loved that part!" Rory exclaimed after the movie, her laughter escaping as she walked leisurely along the street with Tristan, who was busy mimicking Johnny English.
They came to a street corner where an old lady was standing waiting to cross, and they waited patiently for the light to change. When it was safe, Tristan offered his arm to the old woman, who took it gratefully and slowly ambled across.
"Thank you, my boy. It's quite hard for an old bag like myself to get any help these days." She rasped as they reached the other side of the street.
Rory was busy watching Tristan and thinking about what a sweet guy he was when many things happened at once.
Tristan, being the comedian that he was, feigned an English accent and said, "The name's Johnny English, ma'am. Secret agent, only here to help the young and beautiful, such as yourself."
Rory watched, shocked, as the old lady scowled and swung her handbag at his head. It connected with much more force than Rory expected and the old lady shouted, "Why, you chauvinistic pig!"
Then the elderly lady turned towards Rory and spoke vehemently, still swinging that vicious handbag around, and Rory was afraid that she would get a hit, too. "You watch this one, young lady." She motioned toward Tristan, who was looking quite contrite while holding a hand to his head. "He's trouble."
Rory nodded obediently, desperately trying to keep her laughter in check. Luckily, the woman walked away and though Tristan shouted apologies after her, she wouldn't hear any of it.
Their eyes connected for a minute and silence followed until, finally, Rory burst into a seemingly endless round of giggles. Tears were actually streaming down her cheeks by the time she managed to speak.
"My gosh! That's it! That was the funniest thing I have ever seen! It just takes the cake!"
Tristan just stood there with his hand clamped to his hurting head. "I didn't mean to be rude…I really am sorry. I thought it would be funny." That only encouraged Rory and sent her into another bout of laughter.
"I'm sorry." Rory pushed out between breaths. "It's just that…" She had to pause to laugh. "You were beaten by an old granny!"
"What?!" Tristam exclaimed, fighting to defend himself while they resumed walking. "That was no old granny! That was like Bionic Woman with a senior citizen card! And she must have been caring bricks in her bag with all that superhuman strength because that really hurt!"
Rory stopped walking and put her hand on his arm, halting him in his steps. Turning him so that he was facing her, she gently pushed Tristan back until he was pressed against the brick wall of a building. She stood up on her tiptoes and placed her hands in his hair. "Let me see," she said while pretending to examine his head injury. "Aw, my poor baby was hurt by the mean wittle owld wady."
Rory teased playfully and Tristan pouted.
"Hey, it hurt a lot!"
"Oh, I'm sure it did."
Rory found herself struggling to breathe when she felt Tristan gently lay his hands on her waist. She became aware that she was leaning completely against Tristan and she could feel his taut, well built body against hers.
Her senses were on overdrive. She could feel his soft, feathery hair brushing against the palms of her hands, his strong, muscular body holding her up and his heart beating against hers. She cold smell the spicy, faint scent that clung to the air around him and gently tickled her nose. She could hear Tristan's soft breath drift off into the night air and could see his ethereal azure eyes searching her face, searching her soul.
Rory's own eyes ran over his questioning gaze and fell on his lips. She knew he was asking her, making sure she was ready and she felt an overwhelming urge to brush her lips against his.
Rory realized that she had to end this before her thoughts went any farther. Here they were on their second date yet they were standing in a very intimate position on a public sidewalk.
"We should go and get that coffee before the café closes." Rory suggested.
"Okay." Tristan mumbled, but his voice was soft and he made no effort to move.
Clearing her throat, Rory stepped out of his embrace. "Follow me!" She ordered playfully with a flourish of her arm, hoping that Tristan would follow with her act.
Tristan obeyed and resumed walking but his thoughts remained where they had just stood. They had been so close, so close that he could sense her heartbeat and feel her breath brushing against his skin. He had wanted to kiss her then, to throw his cares to the wind and simply be with her. And she had wanted it, too – or at least he thought she had. But just as his eyes drifted to her lips, just as his heart started to race, she had pulled away.
Now she was walking away as if nothing had happened and Tristan followed behind her, discouraged, unsure, and dejected.
Rory noticed how quiet he was being and stopped, waiting for him to catch up to her, so she could slip her hand in his. "Come on, slow poke! You're the only thing that stands between me and my elixir now! Hmm, which one should I pick?" She pretended to ponder but gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as she pulled him into the café.
Tristan couldn't help but smile.
~~~~~~~~
'Severe weather warnings for the areas in and around New Haven. Forecasts shows an approaching storm of fair intensity. Lightning, thunder, hail, and an extensive rainfall are all expected. Although it shouldn't be extremely harmful, citizens are asked to stay inside…"
The important weather forecast emitted by the radio went unheard by most of the customers in the café. Many people had departed, favouring their warm beds over the cool coffee shop but Rory and Tristan were having far too much fun to cut the evening short.
Tristan had insisted on paying for her coffee, as he had for the movie.
"You got the movie, so I'll pay for the coffee." Rory had offered, but Tristan shook his head.
"No, that's all right. I'll get the coffee."
"But that's not fair to you." Rory argued.
"Sure it is. I insist that I pay." Rory stomped her heel on the floor and glowered at him.
"What?" He had asked, wondering if she really was upset with him.
"Now I have to accept or else I'll be breaking Gilmore Rule Number 3: 'Never turn down coffee – especially if someone else is paying for it'!" They both laughed but the matter was settled, Tristan paid for the coffees.
"I guess chivalry isn't dead after all." Rory had joked as they sat down to enjoy their java.
After examining and imitating the film they had seen together, Rory had gone up to the counter to order one final cup of coffee, to go.
While she was waiting, Rory reviewed the night in her head and found that she was overjoyed by how well everything had turned out. Other than that awkward moment outside, she had had an amazing time with Tristan.
From her place at the counter, she glanced back at her date, who was sitting at their table waiting for her to return.
He really was something. Her first impression of Tristan was a handsome guy who was incredibly sweet, but to shy to talk. But after the time they had spent together, Tristan was becoming more extroverted and unreserved. That endearing blush still frequented his cheeks and she noticed how he tended to clam up around strangers, but with Rory he was witty, comical, and a blast to be with.
Rory studied him secretively as he sat in his chair gazing out the window and rubbing the back of his neck. She had seen the gesture many times and knew that it was something he did when he was tired or tense. When he was nervous, he tended to twirl his grandmother's ring around his finger or run his hand through his hair.
Rory loved knowing all those little things about him. She could tell that he looked a little drained but a light smile graced his face and she knew he was enjoying himself as much as she was.
The waitress handing her the coffee interrupted her thoughts and she thanked her for it and returned to the table.
Tristan looked up when he heard heels on tile and he watched, amazed, as Rory approached their table. She had dressed up a little in a knee length black skirt and a pink spaghetti strap shirt and was absolutely stunning. Although her shapely legs drove him crazy, Tristan found that his gaze usually drifted over to her gorgeous smile and those brilliant cerulean eyes.
She was a natural at making people feel welcomed and comfortable and she exuded a confidant, graceful air that made Tristan feel weak in the knees. Her bright, caring nature and her quirky customs made him feel relaxed and at ease. He could crack jokes and pull imitations knowing that she would never look down on him or judge him.
Ironically, by getting to know Rory, he was getting to know himself.
His musing ceased when she reached the table and he stood up grabbing her cardigan and his jacket.
"Ready to go?" He asked as he helped her slip on the garment.
"Yes, just lead the way."
He stepped out of the café and held the door open for her. He immediately sensed the slight change in the evening air. Any normal person could if they tried hard enough, the storm was still far away, but Tristan could feel it without any effort. It was coming in strong and it was definitely going to be big.
"Are you sure you want to go to the pond, Rory? I think there may be a storm coming in." Tristan glanced at her worriedly, he didn't want her to get caught in the rain and get sick.
"Oh, that's all right. A little rain never hurt anyone. And we'll only stay for a little while, okay?" Rory loved the rain, she had always wanted to be one of those people in the movies who get caught in a storm and start dancing. Plus, she didn't want the night to end just yet.
They had crossed the street and were headed toward the park when Rory wrapped her arm around Tristan's waist and leaned against him. He was warm and comfortable and Rory wanted the world to know that she was lucky enough to be with him.
Tristan felt her arm snake around his waist and he felt shock, joy, and excitement flow through him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held her close as she leaned her head on his chest. They walked at an unhurried pace, just enjoying being with each other.
My girlfriend, Tristan thought and the mix of emotions that bombarded him were too much to describe.
As he led them into the park his attention wasn't on the beautiful scenery, but instead it was focused on the angelic girl who was contentedly wrapped up in his arms. She was so much more than the stereotypical girlfriend, she was an elegant, radiant, extraordinary woman and he knew that he was blessed to be with her right now. He bent down and placed a soft kiss on the crown of her head and leaned his cheek against her hair as they continued on their way.
Rory's heart fluttered when she felt Tristan's affectionate gesture. She snuggled further into his embrace, loving being able to just hide in his arms where she could block out the rest of the world and stay in this fantasy. His warmth flooded her, his heart beat steadily under her hand, and she could've sworn that her feet never touched the ground. Rory was certain that only her boyfriend's tender hold on her kept her from floating away.
My boyfriend, Rory thought and the exhilarating bliss and rapture that soaked into every cell of her was almost too much to take. She hid her smile against Tristan's chest and, tossing her empty coffee cup in a bin they were passing, wrapped her other arm around him and held him tightly the rest of the way.
Before he knew it, they had arrived at the pond. While Tristan was worrying about disappointing her by asking to stay away from the water, Rory surprised him by pulling him over to a nearby tree and sitting down. He smiled gratefully at her, sat down against the tree, and pulled her to him.
Rory knew of his fear and wouldn't have dreamt of forcing him near the water, instead she led him to the tree and let him pull her back against him. Their legs became entangled and the warm material of his khakis protected her bare legs. She rested her head on his chest and stared out at the peaceful waters while Tristan's gazed was intently focused on the stars in the sky. Neither of them spoke a word, they didn't have to.
A heartbeat, steadfast and reassuring, drummed in Rory's ears and Tristan could hear nothing other than the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore and Rory's even breathing. He closed his eyes, leaning his head against hers, and let all his burdens and anxiety fade away.
For a while everything was calm, serene, and…perfect, but that perfection was destroyed by a loud, rumbling clamor. Rory jumped in Tristan's arms and they sat up straight, his arms wounding tighter and protectively around her.
"What was that?" Rory whispered, but before Tristan could answer a flash of bright light split across the sky, casting a fleeting, eerie glow on the tranquil pond and it's surroundings.
"Rory, lets–" Tristan was interrupted by the sudden downpour of rain. It was coming down heavy and fast and Tristan realized his mistake too late. He had forgotten about the approaching storm and had zoned out, ignoring the feelings that told him that it was about to get serious.
He stood up quickly and pulled Rory to her feet and they huddled under the tree, not sure if they should run out into the shower.
"We have to get out of here, Rory. We shouldn't be standing under tall trees in a storm like this." He shouted to be heard over the terrible storm.
"What do we do, then?" Rory yelled back.
Tristan was silent for a minute. He knew this area well, his apartment was closer to the park than Rory's dorm room was. "We're going to have to make a run for it!"
Rory shook her head and tightly clasped his hand, ready to follow him wherever he chose to take them. He paused, amazed by her trust at him, and stared deeply at her. A few tendrils of hair had fallen from her ponytail and the wind whipped them harshly around her face. Raindrops fell through the branches and trickled down her skin as her eyes blinked rapidly, struggling to keep the rain out of her eyes.
Without thinking, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead before pulling her to him. "Everything's going to be okay." He told her; she squeezed his hand tightly and gave him a small smile.
Turning, he pulled her out into the rain and broke into a run, taking them down the quickest route to his building. He was worried about her running on the slick path in her high-heeled shoes but she ran in them expertly, keeping up with him effortlessly.
Soon, they were out of the park and running down the street. Tristan briefly considered taking her into a building to wait it out but his senses were telling him that this was going to be a long storm. He glanced over at her and found that her cardigan and skirt were soaked through and stuck to her skin. Surely she was freezing and at least if they went to his place he could give her a change of warm clothes.
"It's right around the corner!" Tristan shouted, as they rounded the final stretch and pushed through the doors, stopping inside to catch their breath.
"Are you all right?" Tristan gazed at her anxiously as both of them heaved for breath. He pulled her into his arms, sighing in relief.
"MmmHmm." Rory mumbled against his chest, but he could feel her huddled figure trembling.
"You're shaking, you must be freezing." He led them down the hallway, never letting her out of his embrace. "Here, come inside."
Keeping one arm around her, he used his free hand to unlock the door and push it open. He ushered her inside and closed and locked the door after following her in, wondering if the goosebumps on her arms where indeed from the cold or the energy change in the room.
"I'm so sorry, Rory."
"Hey, i-it's n-not y-y-your fault." Tristan smiled at her as she struggled to appear dignified. "L-last I c-checked, you d—don't c-control the w-weather."
"You're such a goof." He mumbled into her hair as a smile fluttered across his lips. Rory smiled but didn't answer.
Her skirt had ridden up a bit and clung to her legs and her shirt and cardigan stuck to her like a second skin. She was absolutely frozen, but would never admit it.
She stayed in Tristan's arms as she glanced around the tiny apartment. From what she could see from her place by the door, it was small, and a little old, but homey. It was fairly neat considering it was kept by a guy, there was a little clutter here and there that reminded her of her home back in Stars Hollow, and she could smell that scent that was purely Tristan. She liked it here.
"Come on. I'll get you a change of clothes." Tristan had to get her warmed up fast. Plus, he didn't know how much longer he could look at her while her clothes clung to her every curve and exposed her smooth, tanned skin. He pulled her into the bedroom and Rory surveyed the room. There was a large bed in the middle with a worn, navy blue spread; the closet was on one side with a dresser and on the opposite wall there was a small bathroom and end table.
Tristan walked through, pulling her into the closet. He clicked on the light and stepped away from her, searching through the somewhat organized shelves, and as he did Rory noticed the way his shirt stuck to his muscular frame outlining every ripple of muscle. He turned his back to her and continued sifting through his clothes and Rory could see the muscles in his back working. She resisted the intense urge to peel the garment off his skin and explore his body with her hands.
Her feverish thoughts were interrupted when Tristan finally fished out an old sleeveless shirt and a pair of sweats. "Here, I'm afraid they're the only thing that might come close to fitting you." He said as he glanced down at her petite frame.
"That's okay, they're fine." Better than fine, Rory thought as she examined the items of clothing, they were tattered and frayed but were also soft and warm.
She followed him back into the bedroom where Tristan squinted at the clock. "It's 12:30, Rory. I don't think that that storm is going to end anytime soon so you can stay here if you'd like." Rory watched, amused as he looked around nervously avoiding her gaze.
When she didn't answer he continued on apprehensively. "You can have the bed and I'll take the floor." When she still didn't say anything, he finally looked at her, afraid that he would see tears of despair streaming down her face.
"Rory? Are you -?"
"We can share." Rory said quietly, motioning towards the bed. She was about to lay down some ground rules when Tristan spoke. "Are you sure your okay with that? I mean, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. I –"
She cut him off by reaching for his hand. "I'm sure." He still looked uncertain so she smiled at him and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
"Okay." They stood quietly for a minute. "I'm just going to grab a change of clothes. You can take the bathroom."
They went there separate ways and Rory slowly peeled of the new outfit she had been so proud of and threw it over the shower rod, so it would dry. She freed herself of her painful heels and set them on the floor beside the counter. Leaving her underclothes on, she pulled the wifebeater over her head and tugged the sweatpants up, pulling the drawstring tightly to keep them secured. She pulled her wet hair out of the miserable ponytail, tried to run her fingers through it and eventually gave up. Tristan called out to her, letting her know that he was changed and it was safe to come out.
She exited the bathroom and found Tristan in a similar outfit already in bed. He was leaning back against the headboard, covers pulled up to his waist, and his slightly towel dried hair was already He had turned off the bedroom light but had left a dim lamp on the vacant side of the bed on. Suddenly, she was a bit nervous about sleeping beside him. She new he wouldn't try anything, Tristan was too shy to even kiss her but their relationship was so new and fragile.
Rory noticed how Tristan hovered to one side, giving her plenty of room, and twirled the ring around his finger. That feeling of nervousness left as quickly as it had come. This is Tristan, she told herself as a smile graced her face.
"You can turn the light off if you want…I wasn't sure if you…" Tristan trailed off, as his cheeks flushed. He had no idea how he was supposed to handle this. He was perfectly content with the thought of sleeping with her wrapped up in his arms, but would that be too much for her?
"No, it's fine." Rory strolled across the room and slid into the bed. Tristan lay back with his shoulder touching the imaginary centre line waiting to see how she'd act.
Rory shivered in the cool sheets and, pulling the covers up to her chin, and scooted over to Tristan, seeking his warmth. To say that Tristan was shocked when she lay her head on his shoulder would be the understatement of the year, but she curled up against him and Tristan could feel her damp hair and cold feet. He understood that she was still cold and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer and giving her as much warmth as she could.
Rory sighed contentedly as she shut her eyes to the world and let Tristan's gentle heartbeat lull her to sleep.
~~~~~~~
Rory awoke sometime later to the sound of rain beating the ground outside the window. She closed her eyes quickly against the sudden onslaught of light and disorientation flooded her as she struggled to remember where she was. Glancing at the clock that didn't belong to her, she read the glowing red digits.
1:56 AM.
Why wasn't she in her dorm by this time? Her sleep-fuddled mind had trouble gripping the memories that hung at the back if her mind. She turned around slowly and surveyed the room, trying desperately to remember.
Suddenly, something kicked against her leg and Rory turned, shocked, to see a mass wriggling under the blankets. She tentatively pulled back the cover to reveal a tuft of wild blonde hair sticking out in every direction.
Tristan.
Instantly, everything came rushing back to her. Memories of their second date, the storm, how caring Tristan had been, and how she had ended up in his bed. Thank God they were fully clothed. At least, she hoped they were…
Her thoughts were interrupted when another limb reached out and hit her again and she was in the middle of grumbling about his bad sleeping habits when Tristan restlessly rolled over.
I've been watching you and all you do for quite some time…
She froze to study him. His face held a pained, fearful expression and he tossed and turned uneasily. He must be having a bad dream. Not knowing what to do, Rory was about to try to get back to sleep when Tristan moved again.
Knowing all the ins and outs of you,
I should have known what was on your mind…
This time he cuddled up close to her, burying his face in her neck. He mumbled and whimpered in his sleep and Rory could feel his lips moving gently across her skin.
But all the world is spinning round and round,
Inside my head tonight,
The sensation was incredible, but Rory's mind was on other things. She didn't understand what was going on; she didn't know how to stop his soft cries and give him comfort.
He shifted again in his sleep and another inaudible whimper escaped. Rory's heart broke at the sound and she gently placed a soft kiss on his forehead and caressed his cheek.
"Everything's going to be okay, Tristan." She repeated his earlier word of solace, hoping that they would ease his weary mind.
I will fall into the darkness
And I fear I will never see the light…
Tristan could hear someone whispering in his ears, pulling him out of the terrible dream he had become trapped in. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting in the bright light. He cautiously looked up…and saw an angle. Her dark hair flowed around her shoulders and her troubled, breathtaking blue eyes stared down on him. The bright light came from behind her casting a soft halo around her.
Rory.
I've been watching you and all you do for quite some time…
Rory watched as Tristan struggled up from sleep, his beautiful blue eye glancing around, bewildered, and finally coming to rest on her. His golden crown of hair stuck out in a disarrayed, perpetual mess and his face contorted into a mask of confusion.
"Rory?" He mumbled softly, sounding like a little boy, and Rory couldn't help but smile down on him in his sleepy daze.
"I'm right here Tristan."
Knowing all the ins and outs of you,
I should have known what was on your mind…
"Did you have a bad dream?" Rory asked quietly, stroking his jaw.
He nodded slowly. "I can't remember it." He knew he had, but the details where lost as the cloud of sleep retreated, taking them with it.
"That's okay. It's better that way." She lay beside him again and stared into his scared eyes. "You're safe now."
But all the world is spinning round and round,
Inside my head tonight,
The fear fled his eyes and was replaced by a devoted, loving gaze. Rory felt herself come alive under that gaze and her eyes fell to his lips as his fell to hers. Without thinking, Rory found herself leaning in; her eyes drifted shut as she closed the distance between them.
Tristan watched, stunned, as Rory began to lean towards him, but he felt himself respond as his own eyes drifted shut and he too, moved to close the gap that separated him from the only thing he had ever wanted.
Rory could feel Tristan's breath tickle her chin and she felt her heart race as the last of the distance was shut. His soft lips brushed hers ever so gently, leaving her wanting more. She pressed her mouth to his harder, and her tongue flicked across his lips, seeking entrance, wanting, demanding…
I will fall into the darkness
The kiss grew in intensity until Rory's world was filled with nothing other than the most heavenly sensations. His soft lips moved against hers and she could savor his gentle, sweet taste. Her hands rushed through his velvety hair, down his taut chest and well-muscled stomach. His fingertips lightly caressed her cheek and trailed down through her silky hair. They came up under her shirt to rest on the soft, smooth, warm skin of her stomach.
And I fear I will never see the light…
The kiss had become too heated, too passionate and it was then that something terribly wrong happened. A flash of light blinked across Rory's eyes and they refused to open, bound shut by some strange outside force. The light played on her eyelids like an old movie on a screen. Slowly, that light condensed, it tediously took shape and gradually formed images. Pictures flashed before Rory's eyes, pictures from a past that didn't belong to her…
** There in the middle of the immense, lavish room sat a small boy of about six or seven. He sat alone, clutching an old, worn teddy bear to his little chest, and stared out at the sea of gifts that surrounded him. But he never reached for them, never moved. He had risen early that morning and dressed himself in his holiday suit. He wanted to look good for them, wanted to please them. Wanted them to be proud.
He ran down the stairs and waited by the piles of impeccably wrapped presents. But they didn't come. They didn't come when it was time for breakfast, nor did they appear when the servants prepared lunch. The boy had refused the meals, staying instead in the vast, empty room, waiting patiently. He sat rocking slowly, waiting for a couple to walk through the door, waiting for that couple to kiss him on the cheek and hold him tight.
They had been gone for the whole week, but they promised him that they'd be here today. The boy continued waiting, all through the evening, fighting to keep his eyes from drooping shut, telling himself that they'd arrive, any minute now.
But they didn't. Finally, a maid entered, bent on ordering him to eat something before he went to bed. She found the boy fast asleep on the floor in front of the majestic, roaring fireplace surrounded by a myriad of unopened gifts with that same worn, old teddy bear wrapped up in his arms. Picking the slender child up, she carried him into his extravagant bedroom and placed the tiny body under the covers.
Brushing the golden hair from his sleeping eyes, she whispered, "Merry Christmas, Tristan." **
** That same boy again, but this time a bright smile covered his face and his eyes twinkled as he splashed around unsupervised in the water, his happy giggles filled the cool, still air. The pond was big and deep and the boy was happily pretending that he and his loving family had been washed up on a uninhabited island, where they could always live together and would never be separated. He stood with the water up to his tiny waist and watched the little waves lap up against his tummy.
He spotted the dock that reached out to the center of the pond and wondered what it would be like to jump off it. He made his way to the dock, making sure that no one was watching him. No one ever did anyway. He walked to the edge and let his small toes hang off. Should he do it? Would they be mad? He stopped to think, they never worried about him, why would they care if he got hurt?
Taking a deep breath, the child leapt off letting his little body drop deep into the waters, confidant that he would float back up to safety. But something went wrong. Something grabbed his arm, something cold and terrible. The boy hated cold. The cold hand pulled him down into the black depths as he tried to kick his way back to the surface.
He was pulled and turned in a mass of swirling bubbles and came face to face with frigid, dead eyes. The man's rotted skin was cold and clammy and he spoke to the boy, calling his name and shaking him roughly. The boy tried to scream for help but water rushed into his mouth and down his throat. He started to cough and his chest burned; he was choking. The boy's tears were lost in the deep water and the terrible man let go. But it was too late; the world turned back.
The villa staff found him a moment later, saw his little body floating face down in the water. Without hesitation the man dove in, grabbed the child and pulled and lifted him to the safety of the dock. He performed the techniques he had practiced so often, but never had to use before this. The boy spat up water and the man held the shaking child as he began to cry, not because of his near death experience, but because of his first experience with death.
His life was never the same. **
** The boy was older now and had entered that terrifying stage of adolescence. His golden hair was a bit longer, his body was taller, stronger, and his features had hardened to become breathtakingly handsome. But something dark was brewing beneath the beautiful exterior, the secret he had kept since that day in the pond.
He was huddled in the corner of his room, eyes squeezed shut, hands pressed to his ears. He couldn't look at her, the ghost standing in the middle of his bedroom screaming a mad, shrieking howl. He couldn't get past her to the door, couldn't go to anyone for help. No one else could see her.
"What do you want from me?!" The young man whispered in despair as beautiful tears streamed down his beautiful face. The spirit stopped her screaming and turned, her dead eyes searing into his soul. She moved with the swift speed of the dead and suddenly, she was in front of him. She knelt before the frightened boy and reached out a hand, holding it just inches away from his trembling face as if hesitating to caress his soft skin.
Without warning her cold hand was harshly wrapped around his throat, her fingers choking him and her skin bombarding him with terrible images of how she had been attacked, molested, and killed.
The boy bit hard on his lip till it bled, trying desperately to keep himself from screaming as all the pain she had suffered tore through his body, mentally bruising him to the core. He couldn't let the staff hear; he had to suffer through this alone.
The boy understood what she wanted and sobbed in defeat. She backed away, her bloody feet leaving crimson impression that evaporated immediately from the glossy floorboards as she herself disappeared.
He would have to find a way to perform the task this spirit demanded of him, he would have to find a way to cover up the welts and bruises on his throat, he would have to find a way to keep up the charade of his perfect life. But for now, he hugged his knees to his chest, curled up into a little ball and cried himself to sleep. **
The light…
Rory's eyes snapped open and she frantically pushed away from Tristan. Her eyes flitted everywhere, wild with fear.
What had just happened? How had a simple kiss escalated into that? What were those images, those pictures… those memories?
So let me in,
Tristan knew why she had ended the kiss. He had seen it too; his terrible memories that he wished to forget replayed so vividly. He had no idea how it had happened, the intensity of the kiss must have opened something, linked them somehow; never before had he had a physic connection with anyone.
All that I wanted from you
Was something you'd never do,
He reached for her and Rory saw his hand just inches from her skin. She couldn't let him touch her; she didn't want him coming near her.
"Stay away from me!" Rory shouted as she jumped off the bed.
So let me in,
Oh please tonight,
Tristan just stared at her, shocked and hurt beyond belief. No, he told himself, Rory wouldn't say that. The thought was comforting but the look on her face broke his heart. He tried again, this time getting up from the bed and trying to wrap his arms around her.
Don't let this end,
Tonight,
"Don't touch me!" She was shrieking now, desperately searching for a way to get past him to the door. Those images, those spirits…
I'll fall…
She shuddered. "What are you?!"
Tristan could see the raw fear in her eyes. "Rory, it's just me. Tristan."
"I don't know who you are." She uttered, her voice quiet and grave.
Through the light the darkness seems to be
So very strong,
Rory saw the crushed look on his face and she hated putting it there. She hated thinking about that sweet, shy Tristan hurting because of her but this person before her wasn't that guy.
"I'm just…different, Rory. I…" Tristan was trying to put all of his love and hope into his voice, tried to comfort her and make her see that he was still the same Tristan.
"You what?" Rory demanded and her voice was tight with anger and fear.
"I…you wouldn't understand…I…" Tristan felt his hope slipping away with every second that passed.
How does one alone against the world
Find the strength to carry on?
"What?!" Rory was practically screaming at him, she didn't know what he was but she sure as hell wasn't going to stay with him.
"I see…" Tristan found that he was having trouble breathing. "I see…the dead."
She didn't scream, she didn't throw anything, she didn't run. She just stood there, not sure if she should believe him. She thought back to all times when she same him staring at thin air, she thought back to his weary, tired appearance, and those terrible creatures in those images.
"Stop lying to me."
What happened to the way we used to love?
It seemed as though life had just begun,
"I'm not lying, Rory, I swear!" His voice was high and desperate but now it sunk to just above a whisper and he lowered his gaze to the floor. "When we kissed…those things that you saw…" He raised his head, looking her in the eye hoping to make her understand. "Those are my memories."
It made sense, that was the most terrifying part, everything he said made sense. Every cell in her body told her that what he was saying was true. But if it was then he was a monster.
But now that love has come and gone to fade away
Like the setting sun,
She couldn't think of Tristan as a monster, she had to reject his explanation. "I don't –"
Before she could finish the bathroom door slammed shut. Rory screamed and jumped back as it was torn open again and the light began flicking on and off. Tristan could see Mary there glowering at Rory, standing ramrod straight with her hand on the switch, turning the light on and off. On and off. Tristan knew that she was trying to help him, that she was trying to make Rory understand that he was telling the truth but he could see the wild look of fear in her eyes.
'Cause you won't let me in,
"Mary, stop that!" He ordered harshly, reaching once again for Rory.
But she recoiled. "I said, don't touch me!" The lights continued to flickered and Rory felt tremendous fear rushing through her. She had heard Tristan yelling towards the bathroom, but there was no one there. No one visible. Rory paled and backed away further.
All that I wanted from you
Was something you'd never do,
"Mary, stop!" Tristan thundered and just like that the lights went out. "Rory, you have to under-"
"I said stay away from me." Her voice was low and her angry eyes burned into his with an overpowering look of fear and disgust. "I don't want you to try to speak to me, I don't want you to try to come near my dorm, and I don't want you to ever touch me again."
So let me in,
Oh please tonight,
With that she calmly walked past him and out of the room. On the outside she looked cool and collected, but on the inside she was angry and scared and trying desperately not to cry.
Dont let this end tonight,
'Cause I'm starting to fall…
Tristan stood there completely shocked as a single tear rolled down his cheek. He had seen it again, that look of hatred, disgust, …and fear. And it hurt so much to hear it from the girl who he cared for, the girl who he thought cared for him.
But she did care, she had. He had to make her see that he was that same person that she had laughed with, went out with, and smiled at.
He tore through the apartment, rushing to catch up with her, see was already down the hall, approaching the exit doors. He followed her out into the rain, the cold, angry rain. He hated the cold.
So let me in…
She was just a few feet ahead of him. "Rory, please wait!" He called desperately. She stopped. "Rory, you were the only one I thought I could trust! I'm sorry I didn't tell you before but I didn't want you to hate me…I didn't want you to be afraid of me." Tristan shouted out to the night as the rain continued to soak through their clothes. She was standing with her back to him and could see the harsh rain dripping off her beautiful figure.
He spoke bravely, for the first time in his life struggling to show someone how much he cherished them.
Rory could here the complete anguish in his voice and she arduously shrugged it of.
"I care for you, Rory…I really do. And I thought you cared for me."
She turned slowly and the eyes that looked upon him weren't those beautiful sapphire eyes that he loved more than anything. Her eyes were cold and hard, filled with revulsion, abhorrence, and fear. Tristan could feel that terrible cold leaking into him, permeating to his heart and soul.
It was all that I wanted from you,
"I've already told you, I don't want to see you ever again." She turned to walk away.
"But Rory, I lo-"
She cut of his confession, walking briskly bare foot down the street. "Stay away from me you, you freak."
It was something you never knew,
And that was all it took to destroy him, to completely crush his last tiny tendril of hope, to utterly break his faith. To kill him.
Rory waited to she rounded the corner, until she was out of his sight to let the tears fall. The anger, fear, and pain came rushing out in a mad torrent of sobs but they gave her the determination to run home, to crawl into her bed where she could try and erase this night from her memories.
To let me in,
Tristan stood in the rain, exactly where she had left him, head hung in despair. Never in his life, through all the terrible things he had suffered, all the death and pain, had he ever imagined that he could hurt this much. He let the cold rain run off him, letting it take his tears, letting it carry away his hopes for happiness and all his pathetic dreams about having someone to love him. No one ever would, he was a freak, he had known that all along but had fought to forget it, hoping that he could become a better person for her. But she knew, she saw what he was, and she had flinched and shrank back from his touch as if he were a monster.
But not tonight,
Tristan couldn't make himself move, couldn't turn around and enter the safety of his apartment, his refuge where he could hide from the world. His tears intensified and grew to tearing, racking sobs that shook his body until he could no longer stand. He let his legs buckle, dropping slowly to the ground and wrapped his arms around his legs, curling up into a ball.
For this is the end,
Tonight,
He let the rain and his tears cleanse him, and they receded hours later, leaving only a raw, broken shell of a man in their path.
I fall…
~~~~~~~~
Voila, I know that that was long and intense and in took me forever to write. I'm talking hours here, people. J Anyways, I hoped it was okay, and I promise you that within the next chapter you'll find out where Tristan saw Dean and the events that followed thereafter.
Please review, cuz, although I've got the whole story figured out, I between working, baby sitting, and preparing for a month-long trip I'm kinda losing my inspiration to post…
Love,
Madzinski