This Faulty Parachute
Isn't it strange,
The way things can change?
Life that you lead
Turned on its head.
She stood there at the door to their apartment and watched the elevator doors close. With that small, everyday movement, Logan was gone.
Tears streaked down Rory's face and she knew that the painful clenching she felt in her chest was her heart breaking. She'd had guys break up with her before; she remembered vividly what that felt like, and true, he hadn't broken up with her, something she was totally grateful for. But the feelings that weighed her entire body down now were nothing compared to that.
Damn Mitchum… He didn't have to send him away, away from his friends, away from her… His rationale made sense: I'm sending Logan away for one reason, because it is time. It is time for him to stop jumping out of planes in a gorilla mask, and crashing boats, and getting plastered every night, and ending up in the hospital. Its time for him to stop being a child and to start being a man. Its time for him to start focusing on his future, and the only way he's going to do that is to get him out of his environment, and away from those dopes, Colin and Finn, and the Life and Death Brigade, and get him on a path. She hadn't been able to disagree with anything that he said, at first. He'd talked about how talented Logan was, something else Rory couldn't disagree with, and how he needed to put that to good use. Mitchum was giving him a push.
But she and Logan hadn't talked about how they were going to get through this. Hell, they hadn't even talked about it, not even that much last night, knowing what this day would bring. She… she needed more time; they needed more time to talk, more time to figure out what they were going to do, how this was going to work. She needed a plan, some sort of logical, rational, orderly idea about how they were going to survive a year apart.
He couldn't really be gone. Rory waited, seeing the lit numbers above the elevator doors count down, carrying Logan down to the lobby. She could almost see him reach the lobby and walk past the doorman to the waiting car, climb inside and be whisked off to the airport. Logically, she knew that standing there, seeing the numbers change from 3 to 2 to 1 to L wasn't going to cause him to magically appear back in the apartment. She knew that nothing was going to bring him back up that elevator.
Swiping away more tears, she suddenly thought about what it must have felt like for Logan to be falling off that cliff in Costa Rica. But instead of hitting the ground, Rory was standing on top of that cliff, getting ready to leap off, not knowing if her parachute was going to work or not. She couldn't see the bottom, if there was one, didn't even know if one existed. All she could see was the huge, gaping chasm before her, could feel her hands sweating, and knew, somehow, that there was no one around to jump with her, that she was gonna hit the bottom or fall forever. And she was terrified.
Blinking, Rory saw that the elevator was moving again, going up to the fourth floor before heading back down. And she knew he was gone. Turning around in the doorframe, Rory looked at the expanse of the apartment before her, still baring the evidence of the London party last night.
Suddenly someone
Means more than you felt before.
House and its yard turns into home.
All Rory could think at that moment was how empty and huge this place felt without Logan in it. She pushed the door together behind her, closing herself in. Leaning back against the door, she stared at the furniture, at the pictures, the mementos from Life and Death Brigade events, parties, gifts given to each other, items bought together. But the warmth that had held it all together was absent.
Unthinkingly, Rory crossed to the closet, opening the end that held all the clothes he had left behind. She touched his tuxedo from the first LBD event that he'd taken her to. A hint of a smile touched her face, remembering his words to her about jumping off the scaffolding. It'll be fun, it'll be a thrill. Something stupid, something bad for you. Just something different. Isn't this the point of being young? It's your choice, Ace. People can live a hundred years without really living for a minute. You climb up there with me, it's one less minute you haven't lived. And she'd jumped. Any other person could have asked her to do that and she would have told them that they were crazy, that, no thank you, she would keep her feet on the ground. But Logan Huntzberger could look at her with those big, expressive, chocolate colored eyes and she was a gonner.
Another tear traced a path down her face as she moved past his nice, fancy dress clothes until she hit a shelf where he had a stack of t-shirts. Grabbing one, she held it to her face, breathing in the completely unique smell that she knew was only his. She glanced at the bed… No, she couldn't go back there yet.
Instead, she walked to the couch, dropping onto it, pulling her knees up to her chest and burying her face in Logan's shirt. If she closed her eyes and imagined real hard, she could almost believe that he had stepped out to get some take out, that she was just waiting on him to walk back through that door with pizza and Chinese and junk food for a movie night, his patent smirk in place, guaranteed to earn him at least one kiss before getting into the food. She could almost believe he wasn't on a plane to London. Almost…
Sorry but I meant to say
Many things along the way.
This one's for you…
Rory should have told him not to go. She should have told him that she needed him to stay with her, that she had no idea how badly she needed him near. Even in the middle of the party that she'd planned last night, he'd been somber, not his usual Logan sense of humor and enthusiasm.
When he'd first spoken, she thought she was hearing her own thoughts aloud. Tell me not to go. His voice was low and sad and there was a hopeless tone in it that she'd never heard before. She'd blinked at him, owlishly, before he kept going. Tell me not to go. Tell me not to get on that plane. Tell me to blow off my father, the paper, the whole Huntzberger destiny. Just tell me I can figure something else out. Just tell me not to go. For a second, she couldn't breathe. The only thing that she wanted to do was to do exactly what he asked, to beg him not to leave her.
But she couldn't do that, couldn't ask him to give up his family, everything that could give him a future that was perfect for him, where so many doors were already opened and waiting for him to walk through. As much as it hurt, she didn't want him to give anything up for her. So she had told him that she couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear.
But, now, hours later, Logan was gone and she knew… she knew she should have told him not to go.
Have I told you I ache? Have I told you I ache?
Have I told you I ache for you?
And that thought alone made her break out in uncontrollable sobs again.
Have I told you I ache? Have I told you I ache?
Have I told you I ache for you?
She wiped her tears on her sleeve, sitting up from where she curled up in a ball on the couch. Pulling herself to her feet, Rory carefully folded Logan's t-shirt and sat it almost reverently on the cushion next to her.
Mechanically, she began to clean the room up from where they'd left the disaster from the party. She emptied cups, tossing them into a garbage can, collecting anything that needed to be thrown away, moving back and forth to the can, filling the bag up. If she kept moving, maybe she wouldn't have to think about the fact that he wasn't here. That he wasn't coming back for a year. She wouldn't have to think about the giant pain where her heart used to be.
Instead, she thought about the ultimatum she'd given him. She hadn't meant it to be an ultimatum, but she just couldn't do the casual thing anymore, the "no strings" thing that she'd offered him to begin with. But when she'd told him, he'd surprised her. I'll be your boyfriend. If I say I can, then I can. And he had never questioned it again.
True, Rory wasn't honestly sure that she was completely over the bridesmaids' incident. She didn't know how long it would take to move past that. But she could say with certainty that the moment she'd heard Logan was in the hospital, all the anger that she'd been holding against him had flown out the window.
All that she'd been able to think was that Logan was hurt; she didn't know how badly, she didn't know anything else. And nothing else mattered. Hell, he hadn't even had time to heal completely before he had to… Rory was back where she'd started again.
The apartment was mostly put to rights and she was back to remembering that Logan was gone, that he was on his way to London, that he was going to be 5000 miles away from her for a year.
The time that it took
Writing words for my book
Seems to have broken off.
The gate that I shut
Last time I got hurt
Seems to have opened itself.
The apartment was quiet, practically silent. Rory picked the t-shirt back up again, returning it to the closet. She hadn't wanted to fall in love with Logan Huntzberger. That had never been the plan.
And she couldn't definitively say when it had happened. Maybe it was when he'd first started arguing with her. Maybe it was the first time he'd called her Ace. She had no idea why she'd volunteered to fork over her research for him to write his article with. Maybe she fell in love with him when he blindfolded her and talked her into jumping off that scaffolding with him. Maybe it was when he took care of her after Dean broke up with her in front of all those people at the Male Yale party.
Whenever it had happened, it had never been the plan; she had never expected it. It had sideswiped her, knocking her for a loop. But regardless of when it had happened, it was truer at this moment than it had ever been.
Swallowing, she entered the kitchen, filling a large glass up with water and taking a couple aspirin from the cabinet to try to sooth her aching head from the tears that continually threatened to overwhelm her. Rory leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath. When she'd told him she loved him, he'd been honest. Look, I've told a lot of girls that I love them before and I didn't mean it. So, I'm not going to do that to you. And she'd been okay with that.
But somewhere along the way, something had changed. She had felt the change and she knew that he had and that it probably freaked him out. He didn't do relationships. Especially after she had shown up at the hospital, she could see in his eyes that their relationship had moved further than he knew how to deal with.
Oh the world its spinnin' now,
Trying to catch me up.
Tell me to appreciate the here and now.
Then he'd woken her up this morning, just by saying her name. Not Ace, just a quiet, Rory.
She knew she'd said his name, had tried to climb over the bed, rambling something about trying to get shoes and a coat to take him to the airport. She'd heard him say something about his bag being in the car, but she'd brushed it off, still scrambling to her feet. His next statement, murmured almost painfully, had stopped her dead in her tracks. Rory, no.
She'd tried to convince him to let her come, saying something about she had to see him off. He'd countered with a comment about not being able to get past security, and she'd tried one more time, telling him she'd see him off from the metal detectors. He'd looked into her eyes, his chocolate ones filled with pain and sorrow and, from somewhere, a gentle kind of strength or at least determination. If you come with me, I won't get on the plane. And she'd known it was true. Maybe that was what had brought tears to her eyes. Once they started, Rory couldn't stop them from turning into full out crying.
He'd told her things about the apartment, about the car service, things that sounded very much like things that she would ramble to him about. Blinking back the memories for a moment, Rory squared her shoulders and turned around, looking at the big bed in the corner. One last deep breath later, she crossed back over to it, pulling back the comforter and crawling in.
I'm sorry but I meant to say
Many things along the way.
This one's for you…
Breathing in, she grabbed Logan's pillow, holding it to her. Only from the comfort of this spot could she think about their last few moments together. He'd asked her what, although she wasn't sure what he was asking about. I keep trying to think of fabulous things to say, but all I can think is, "Say hi to William and Harry for me." Quite possibly one of the most dumb things that could have come out of her mouth at that moment. Certainly not her brightest statements or the most appropriate. But it had made Logan smile. I love you, Ace.
Hearing him say that had made her heart leap. And managed to almost render her completely speechless at the same time. She'd even tried to smile back at him while tears continued to stream down her face. That's so much better than, "Say hi to William and Harry for me." He'd kissed her again. She knew that they'd both tasted her tears in a kiss that felt too much like goodbye.
He'd held her close, touching her, and she'd tried to be completely in the moment, soaking up enough of him to last until they saw each other again. She memorized his mouth, how his face felt beneath her hands, the touch of his hands on her skin. Then he pulled away. I have to go. And he left.
She'd followed him to the door and watched him walk away, leaning on the cane, climbing onto the elevator. Face flushed from crying, she'd waved weakly as the doors had closed. But the look on his face had pained her, the hopelessness, the sadness, the… he looked so lost. Rory held the pillow tighter to her, trying to keep herself from starting to cry again.
Have I told you I ache? Have I told you I ache?
Have I told you I ache for you?
Why couldn't she come up with anything better to say to him, to the man she was in love with, than "Say hi to William and Harry for me"? What kind of goodbye is that? He told her he loved her and she told him that. Taking a deep breath, Rory reminded herself that he knew how she felt, he knew how much she loved him. A smile crept onto her face. They loved each other. They could make it through this. It would be okay. They would be okay.
Have I told you I ache? Have I told you I ache?
Have I told you I ache for you?
Cuddling up to Logan's pillow, Rory snuggled further down into the bed. She would be okay. One year. 52 weeks. 365 days. 525, 600 minutes. Plus or minus. She loved Logan. Logan loved her. True, they didn't have a plan, but they had each other.
And she was back on the cliff in Costa Rica again. The chute on her back still made her completely uncertain about this leap. The chasm in front of her was still dark, deep, and terrifying. But a hand slipped into hers, curling around it, fingers lacing threw hers. Rory's turned to look at the man who stood beside her. A perfect smirk graced Logan's face, lighting up his expressive brown eyes. He looked confident, composed, and excited. Smiling back at him, she took a deep breath. You jump, I jump, Jack. His smirk transformed into a full out smile, his hand gave hers a tight squeeze, lifting it to his lips to brush them across her knuckles before dropping it back to their sides. Ready, Ace?
She glanced around the apartment. It didn't matter that she wasn't sure if there was a bottom to the darkness they were going to jump into. It didn't matter that she wasn't sure if her chute was going to open. She believed in Logan, she trusted him, and she knew that, even if everything about the next year would be uncertain, she had Logan. They had love. And, parachute or no parachute, they would make it through this… together.
FIN