A/N: Wow!!!!! 197 Reviews!!!!!! WOO HOO!!!! Thanks so much to my reg-revs (lol!) and to everyone who reviews! If it weren't for you, my crazy thoughts would never have been posted on that amazing thing we call the Net!

Now, not too much goes on in this chapter and I know it's kinda short but because of that I'm gonna give you guys a bonus! Instead of there being just one more chapter, now I'm gonna do two more!!!! (and the crowd goes wild! Jks!)

Anyways, I still don't own anything having to do with Gilmore Girls * tear *! Enjoy and please……

Review when your through! (lmao)

Chapter 15:

Quietly

Soft rays of sunlight filtered in from between the blinds, casting faint bands of light around the dim room. Discarded pieces of clothing remained scattered around the room, where they had been dropped earlier that morning by the two figures who lay entangled on the bed. There was no sound in the apartment; no people moving about in that early-morning routine, no coffee machine whirring to life, to television talk show hosts' voices permeating the air. The sweet silence, quiet and still, was broken only by the sound of gentle, even breathing.

And Rory was in the midst of it all, contentedly laying still, watching.

He was beside her, on his stomach, his handsome, sleeping face turned towards her. His eyes were shut, his long lashes throwing shadows across his cheekbones, and his full lips parted slightly as he mumbled her name in his sleep and nestled a bit closer to her.

A soft smile graced her face as she pulled quietly away from the slumbering figure searching for her warmth and comfort. She was intent on studying him, on admiring the incredible man who lay stretched out next to her in bed.

Tristan.

His golden hair had already become that endearing, perpetual disarray and, as her eyes beheld the tousled mess, her fingers itched to reach out and touch it. The mounds of blankets that covered the two had fallen back, during some point of his shifting, to reveal the tanned, soft skin on his shoulders.

A frown crept, across Rory's face as she noticed the painful scratches and dark welts that marred the almost-perfection. Her mind flashed painfully back to the night before and she knew where they had come from.

Rory moved closer to the sores and her heart fluttered with guilt as she placed a soft kiss on his shoulder. She pulled the blanket further down, exposing a taunt, muscular back that tapered down to a narrow waist. Staring up at her from the small of Tristan's back was a harsh bruise the size of her closed fist. Already the spot was swollen and had become a multitude of colors. She traced her fingers lightly around it, wishing she could make it disappear.

Tristan whimpered and her eyes flew to his face in time to see him winced painfully in his sleep. Feeling instantly contrite, Rory covered the mark with the blankets and lay next to him, so close that she could feel his breath brush her face every time he exhaled. She reached up and gently stroked his cheek, feeling her heart race and her skin tingle just from that simple touch.

A faint blush spread across her cheeks as she thought back to last night, when Tristan had finally told her that he loved her and she had said the same words back to him.

They had left the park immediately afterwards and walked all the way here. Rory didn't know what time it was when the pair stumbled into Tristan's apartment but she recalled his pale, pale skin and his trembling body leaning against hers as she led him to his bed. Thoughts of getting him somewhere safe, of getting him to someplace where he could rest and heal, flitted through her mind although she never once considered the hospital, full of bright lights, overpowering noise, and multitudes of people.

Presently, Rory frowned at her negligence. Should she have called an ambulance? Should she have had him checked and x-rayed and gotten a professional opinion on his condition? But if she had, they would have badgered him for hours and Rory had seen the extreme exhaustion in his strained features. Hours of peaceful sleep and an absence of any worries was what Tristan needed, she had decided and she helped him peel off his wet clothing, leaving him clad only in a pair of boxers, and led him to the bed. Pushing thoughts of his handsome, muscular body from her head, she had lay him down, leaned over and pressed a gentle, comforting kiss to his forehead. After raiding his closet and covering him with six blankets, Rory had moved to the bathroom to prepare herself for the long night.

She knew then that she would be awake most of the night, watching him rest, protecting him as he slept.

Her reflection in the mirror was absolutely hideous. Her hair was tangled beyond repair, her clothes were soaked through and her eyes were bloodshot with fatigue, but a faint blush covered her cheeks at the thought of Tristan and she had never felt more alive.

Rory had stripped down to her underwear and, finding her outfit from their second date draped over the shower rod where she had left it, pulled on the dry shirt and headed into the bedroom. Shutting off all the lights on her way, Rory slid into bed next to Tristan and let his soft breathing reassure her into peaceful sleep.

She awoke a few hours later, the red numbers on the clock on the bedside table staring her in the face. 4:48. She had checked on Tristan, placing her cheek against his forehead like her mother had countless time to check for a fever. His cool skin brought assurance and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer and resting her head under his chin. In his sleep, his arms enfolded her gently and a quiet, steady heartbeat thrummed in Rory's ears. Hours later, as sunlight streamed into the room, Rory had moved back to watch him in the soft light.

Her thoughts danced from Dean, the …ghost who had tried to kill both Tristan and her, to the little angel, Mary, who had helped her save him, to her mother and what her reaction would be if and when Rory told her. She didn't linger on these thoughts for too long, for they gave rise to so many questions that Rory couldn't answer.

If Mary and Dean and everything she had seen last night was not an illusion, did that mean that angels and ghost did exist? That they were all around her and Rory hadn't noticed before? What had happened to Dean? Rory had fallen under the water after the images of his death bombarded her mind and had heard a scream and then she had resurfaced to find him gone.

Rory's mind wandered back to those images. Was that really how he died? Tears stung at her eyes as she thought of the accident. Of the cold night, the thick snow, the slick roads, and the figure standing in the lane…

The figure…blonde hair…

Rory's eyes flew to Tristan as she struggled to hold back the sobs that threatened to tear her apart. He had been there the night Dean had died, in fact, he had been the reason that Dean's life came to that sudden end. That was why Dean had hated Tristan so much; that was why his twisted spirit could think of nothing other than revenge.

That was one more secret that Tristan had kept from her.

Rory turned over, turning her back on Tristan as she sobbed into her pillow. She didn't know how she was supposed to feel. She had loved Dean with everything she was before he died; his death had been the most heartbreaking thing she had ever had to live through. But he was gone now, gone because Tristan had been there that night, had been the figure that Dean had swerved to avoid hitting, the one thing that had cause him to hit the black ice and slam into the oak tree, killing him before he ever reached the hospital.

But Dean was lost forever, and she could never have him back. And she had fallen again, more hesitantly this time, for the man who lay beside her now. He had kept two momentous, horrible secrets from her, and she realized that she knew nothing about who he was.

But at the same time, she did. She knew everything that she had seen in those images from their first kiss. She knew about that little boy, trapped in a world where everything was fake, empty, and meaningless. She knew that little boy who had tried so hard to please his parents, to make them love him, who had been crushed every time he was met with a dismissive hand or a wounding, degrading insult. She knew the little boy with a secret, a secret that he had lived with for the last fourteen years, a secret that had destroyed his every hope for happiness. She knew the young man he was now, quiet, hesitant, and afraid. Afraid of the man he had become, of the life he would have to live, of the fear and repulsion he would be met with if anyone were to uncover his secret; afraid of the loneliness that followed him no matter how far he ran, no matter how much he left behind.

She knew the man who had risked his life, who had almost died this morning, to save her.

Rory turned back to him, weighted with guilt for ever thinking that he was anything other than an angel. She studied his face through her silent tears; he looked so different in his sleep, as if all his worries had drifted away. He looked so young, so sweet, so innocent.

Without thinking, Rory pressed her lips against his, needing to feel his warmth, to savour his sweet taste, to reassure herself that he loved her. His soft lips were still at first, but he slowly responded as he stirred from his sleep.

Tristan felt sleep retreating as hungry lips fed on his. Instantly he knew who they belonged to and gently kissed back, trying to slowly calm the insistent, ravenous mouth. His fingers came up and lightly brushed her skin and it took a moment to realize that Rory's face was wet with tears and his eyes snapped open as he pulled back, immediately breaking the kiss.

"Rory? Rory what's wrong?" He took her beautiful face in his hands and stared into her troubled eyes, feeling fear creep into his stomach.

Rory could see the worry in his eyes and cursed herself inwardly for tormenting him. She murmured his name and hugged him tightly, too deep in her grief to hear his painful gasp as her arms squeezed his scratched, bruised back.

Tristan squeezed his eyes shut at the pain and eased away from her grip, taking her hands in his. "Rory, what is it? Why…why won't you tell me?"

The bewildered despair in his voice was evident and Rory forced herself to answer, to keep him from feeling anymore pain.

"T-Tristan, you know that I love you." It was more of a statement than an answer but Tristan found himself nodding his head as he stroked her hair.

"I love you, too, Rory."

Rory let a small smile slip across her lips. "I know, Tristan, I do."

"Than what's wrong?" He questioned gently.

Rory looked him in the eyes and let her pain shine through her eyes. "Tristan, I… I need you to tell me everything."

"Everything?" Rory heard his strength falter as a feeling of foreboding swept him.

"Everything," She answered as she gripped his hands tightly in hers. "Evrything about what happened the night Dean died, everything that happened last night. Everything."

Tristan closed his eyes painfully as the realization hit him that Rory knew he was there the night Dean died. The subject was beyond painful for him and he knew it would be even worse for her.

"Rory, I…" he pleaded hopefully.

"Tristan, please. I need to know what really happened." She begged him with her eyes and Tristan sighed painfully as his thoughts turned back to that night.

He told her about his grandfather's death, the ghost he had been trying to help, the one whose only intention was to kill him. He told her how he had run through the forest on that cold April night; winter that year had come late and it had been unimaginably cold that evening. The snow was so thick that he had barely been able to see ten feet in front of him but he never stopped running, intent on evading the cruel spirit that hunted him. He told her about running out on the road and standing, shocked, as Dean's truck swerved and hit a tree; he told her about running over and checking on him and waiting in the shadows until someone came to help. He told her about hiding in the forest for hours, mourning over his grandfather's death and the life he had just taken. He told her everything she already knew.

"So it was an accident," Rory whispered softly as Tristan tried shifting onto his aching back.

"No," he answered right away. "It was my fault."

"Tristan, -" Rory began gently.

"No, Rory," he insisted, his stormy blue eyes trained on the cracks in the ceiling, too ashamed to meet her gaze. "I'm not cutting any corners here and I'm not going to lie to myself or you. I was my fault."

Rory sighed, knowing full well that he would never see it any other way. She lay her head on his muscled chest and placed her hand over his heart, giving him what comfort she could.

Tristan's eyes filled with tears that he refused to shed as he glanced down at her head pillowed on his chest and returned his gaze to the ceiling, blinking rapidly.

"I was you wasn't it?" Rory asked suddenly, twisting to stare up at his tormented face. "Last night? You grabbed my ankle and sent those…images, like when we kissed."

Tristan nodded hesitantly, afraid of how she would handle their connection. "I…I wasn't sure if it would work. But I hoped that, that if I wanted to badly enough I could manipulate our connection and reach Dean…through you."

Rory nodded in understanding as a chill rushed up her spine. "But why those images? What did they do?"

Tristan was quite for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "You heard Dean last night…when he said that he remembered driving and then everything went black. He couldn't remember how he had died. He knew it was on a road at night and he knew that I had something to do with it, but he couldn't actually remember swerving and hitting the tree, he couldn't remember the pain and the fear. His soul carried over hatred for me because in the deepest recesses of his mind he knew I was there that night." Tristan swallowed deeply, biding his time. "It's fatal for a ghost to remember how they died, to actually see it played out before their eyes, like a movie. I'm not sure why exactly, maybe it reminds them that they're not human anymore, that they actually don't have any claim left on this world."

Whatever it is, I thought that it might work. I could see him trying to drown you from where I was so…so I did my best to swim to you and I hoped to God that I could save you."

Rory propped herself up on her elbow and stared at him for a long while. She could see the dark circles under his eyes and the ashen, wan blush that had begun to steal across his cheeks again. He had saved her and she loved him with every inch of her being.

Rory leaned over, stroking his cheek for a moment as she stared down into his hauntingly beautiful eyes. Slowly, she bent her head and kissed him. It was soft and gentle at first, but the caress soon intensified as they searched desperately for comfort in each other. Rory allowed him entrance and put every bit of her feeling into that kiss.

Moments passed in this way until she broke the kiss, both of their chests heaving as they struggled for breath. Rory lay back down beside him and pulled her to him. He needed rest.

Tristan let her guide him down and he rested his head on her chest as her arms enfolded him in their loving embrace. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Tristan was overcome with a feeling of complete and utter security as Rory whispered her love to him, and let the foreign sense of refuge, protection, and solace soothe him into sleep.

~~~~~~~

There ya go! I know, I know: a little two short, not enough action but I had to explain the whole Dean-bursting-into-smithereens-that-blew-away-on-the-wind thingy and stuff!

Anyways, this week is gonna be really busy for me, which is why this chapter is sooo short! I've got two tests and piano and guitar lessons on Monday, a religion retreat on Tuesday(which means I'm gonna have a ton of work from my other three classes), literacy testing on Wednesday and Thursday, and an Essay and the Initial Proposal for my English ISU due Friday!!!!! UGH! DOESN'T THAT JUST SOUND UGLY?!?!?!

So the other chapters will finish everything up and maybe I'll tell you guys about my idea for my next story at the end of chapter 16!!!!

Review and lemme know if you're curious!!!

All my love,

Madz!