Disclaimer: I don't own the series Gilmore Girls or the original characters. All I own is my imagination and the plot.
A/N: Hey, lately I haven't had enough time to work on my stories, but I did find the time to write yet another one parter, it's some sort of faze I'm going through or something. I will devote all my free time on my stories, but until then I hope you'll enjoy reading this. :-)
Bye, smile :-)
-These tears on my face, are for you-
-And misery is what I feel-
Her finger was shaking as she reached for the bell. A modern piece of equipment that seemed so misplaced next to the thick wooden door in front of her. The door was higher than most, giving her the illusion that its length was hovering over her, intimidating her, and making her feel even smaller than she already did. She finally was able to find the right amount of concentration to stop her finger from shaking for a few seconds, long enough for her to ring the doorbell. Her finger felt cold, almost frozen, against the cheap, white plastic of the bell. She pulled her hand back, only for it to be embraced by the drops of rain, which had increased their speed and were stinging her with their coldness.
The drops rolled of off her as easily as they poured down from the raven black sky. She had already been soaked up to her bones a couple of minutes ago, back when she had gotten out of her car, which she had neatly parked at the beginning of the long driveway. Every step she had made had her shivering and her teeth clattering. The raindrops were dripping down her lashes onto her face, which was partially covered by her dark brown, almost black strands of hair. Her clothes clung to her body like a second skin and her hands were tingling up to the tips of her fingers, which were the only parts of her hands that weren't covered by the sleeves of her drenched hoodie.
When the sound of the bell's deep and somewhat old fashioned 'ding dong' reached her ears, she felt the weight of remorse lay upon her conscience and the pressure got heavier as she thought about how the ringing would reverberate within the walls of the probable hall that lay behind the door. It clouded her sight for several seconds before she blinked and realized that it was just the rain that had been blurring her vision and that the remorse had already faded into a corner of her mind, temporarily forgotten. She wiped the droplets of wetness from her face with the back of her hand, waiting for someone to answer the door, which opened to a crack almost immediately at the thought.
She couldn't really make up anything but a couple of lines and features which seemed rough, like the lines of a draft or a far from finished drawing. The rain was interfering with the images in front of her eyes and it made her feel even worse, but still she managed to shoot the person behind the door a watery smile.
''Good evening,'' she started politely, knowing that kindness was most likely to get her somewhere.
When the person, who seemed to be one of the female maids, didn't say anything she continued, her voice shaky and strained with pain. ''I don't mean to bother anyone and I know that it's late, but my name's Rory, Rory Gilmore.....''
''Gilmore?'' the woman asked.
Rory nodded. ''Yes. I go to school with Tristan and I......''
''Of course. Come in. It's pouring out there, you must be so cold,'' the woman affectionately said, while opening the door completely, inviting Rory to step into the hallway, which she did as soon as she got the chance.
The maid shut the door with a soft click, before looking over at Rory once more, her eyes taking in her wet clothes and face. ''Rory Gilmore, was it? Let me get Tristan for you, I'm sure he will be more than pleased.''
With one last smile, she turned around and headed for the stairs, only to disappear and leave Rory to do nothing but tremble in the large room with the white marble tiles, some of them now wet with drops of recent rain. When her eyes were drawn to the intricate staircase by one single pair of footsteps, she protectively wrapped both of her arms around her stomach, having something to hold on to when she met those sky-blue eyes. She could read the surprise in them. Surprise that quickly leaked and spread itself throughout his entire face, digging itself into his handsome features.
''Rory,'' he simply said, not referring to her with his usual nickname for her. He didn't think that it would have been appropriate if he had indeed greeted her with his standard 'Mary'. He hurried down the stairs and over to her when he noticed how heavy her clothes were with rain and how the harsh wind had tangled her locks together. It was a sight that caused him to worry - worry that was stimulated even more by the cut on her bottom lip.
''Rory,'' he said again. ''What are you doing here? Are you alright?''
Rory, who had held his for the entire time, finally lowered hers, bowing her head at the same time. The concern, something that had taken her by surprise, was evident in his voice; however, she recovered quickly, due to her developed lack of trust.
''I know that I probably should have called, but I.....'' She swallowed, trying to push the panic back down. ''I was on my way home, but it started to rain and I couldn't see anything, which for some reason lead me over here, cause I didn't know any other place to stop. And I apologize for bothering you, but I was wondering if I.... if I would be able to stay here for the night?'' Rory slowly lifted her head and brought her eyes up to meet his.
Tristan had already made up his mind before she had even asked him if she could stay. After all, this was Rory, someone he couldn't refuse, especially not when she looked so helpless and small. So, he nodded. ''Yes, of course you can stay here. Even if you hadn't asked, I wouldn't have let you get back in your car anyway. With this weather.....'' He paused, as he moved his eyes in the direction of the door, before bringing them back to the girl in front of him. ''.... it's too dangerous.''
''Are you sure? I mean, will it be okay with your parents?''
Tristan snorted. ''My parents aren't home.''
''Oh,'' was all that escaped her lips, before she dropped her eyes to his worn sneakers.
His eyes studied her carefully while she was in this vulnerable position, looking for something, a secret or lie maybe that was lurking not so deep underneath the surface, but his eyes could find nothing and he decided to ask no more questions and believe her story. He wanted to reach for her hand, but he decided against it when he saw how tightly she had her arms pressed against her stomach. With one last look at the cut on her lip, he placed his hands in his pockets and took a step back.
''Come on,'' he said, before turning around.
''Where are we going?'' she asked, although she had already started to follow him to the stairs.
Tristan glanced at her over his shoulder. ''We are going to get you warmed up and out of those wet clothes.'' He wanted to add something else, but chose to bite his tongue instead. She didn't look like she needed that right now.
Once they reached the top of the impressive staircase, Tristan led her through a hallway, the Persian rug dulling her footsteps as she followed him to one of the many doors, which he opened so they could both enter. While Tristan crossed the room to open yet another door and disappear into a smaller room, Rory stood in the doorframe and silently took in her surroundings. Everything in the room was white or some shade of it. From the bed sheets to the ivory colored dresser. Rory found herself in awe as she admired every single piece of furniture. After she had done that, she finally entered the room, becoming aware of the water she could hear streaming in the other room. With a few strides she had reached it and came across Tristan, who was kneeled in front of the largest tub she had ever seen.
''Tristan,'' she softly said, feeling as if she was interrupting him, by the way he had his gaze intensely fixed on the water. ''What are you doing?''
He looked up. ''Preparing a bath for you.''
''A bath?'' she asked, while she watched him turn off the water and stand up straight again, wiping his hands on his jeans as he did this.
''Yeah, I figured that you must be cold and.....''
''I can't,'' Rory said, cutting him off.
''Look, Rory, you're practically shivering and the water will warm you up. Of course you can be stubborn and catch a cold instead, you're allowed to do that, but.....''
A smile graced Tristan's features, one she wanted to return, but couldn't because her muscles didn't have the courage to muster up one. Instead her eyes locked with his before they wandered off to the tub filled with water, which did look inviting.
''So, I'll go get you some clothes and give you some privacy. There's a towel besides the tub.''
Rory nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on the clear water. Tristan took that as a sign and left her alone, closing the door behind him. Rory immediately locked the door before she started to peel her clothes off of her body and getting into the water. Her arms being the last parts of her body she lowered into the water, slowly, letting it engulf her completely. But it didn't help. Although the water did warm her blood to its usual temperature, it didn't get rid of the aching she felt within. The aching that existed partly out of sadness and partly out of disbelief.
She spontaneously burst out into tears, tears that ripped through her body, causing her grief to ripple up to the surface, together with even more tears. Her body shook with every tear she shed and soon she had her knees pulled up to her chin, with her arms wrapped around them and with her nose touching her knees. She just sat there and openly cried, not even bothering to muffle her sobs, which caused Tristan to freeze in front of the bathroom door. He listened to Rory's cries for a few minutes, before he reached out to open the door, which he found was locked. He cursed under his breath and started to knock on the door, hoping to get her attention.
''Rory?..... Rory?!..... Rory, are you okay? Open the door.''
When she didn't respond to his actions, he pulled a small pocket knife out of his back pocket one he had gotten for his birthday once, although he had never discovered the reason behind it. But right now he was glad that he had it. He flipped it open and forced open the lock, ruining it in the process, but at the moment he didn't care. He pushed the door open while quickly putting the knife back into his pocket. He dropped the clothes he had gotten for her on the toilet seat and headed over to the tub where she sat, still crying.
''Rory,'' he carefully said, letting her know that he was here, although she probably already knew by the way she flinched when he placed his hand on her shoulder. Her bare shoulder. He was indeed aware that she was entirely naked, that was why he forced himself to keep his eyes focused on her head.
''Please leave,'' was her faint request, one that sounded so pleading, he obeyed. He removed his hand and got up from his kneeling position. He threw her one more concerned glance before heading back out the door, giving her the time she wanted.
It wasn't until she heard the door close that she lifted her head up slightly and peered at the door, not understanding why he had listened to her. She hadn't trusted him enough to think that he would just leave. Her eyes found the clothes he had left for her and for the first time that night, she smiled.
When she finally departed from the bathroom, her hair was still wet, but not from the rain this time. She was wearing his clothes, which made her feel more comfortable than she did earlier by the way they hung so loosely around her body. The shirt didn't cling to her body like the wet one had done and the pants were baggy and were so long that she had to be careful not to step on them when she walked. She combed her hair with her fingers while she came to a halt in front of the mirror that hung above the dresser. Her eyes went from her wrists up to her face, where they came to a rest upon her lower lip. She brought up her hand and reached for it with her thumb, lightly brushing it, but losing interest when she spotted the tray that had been neatly placed on the bed.
Rory turned around, lowering her hand, while she walked over to the bed and cautiously sat down, pulling up her knees beside her. A smile lighted up her face briefly and clouded the painful images in her mind for a short while. She ran her fingers over the edge of the bowl of soup which stood in the middle of the tray. It was still hot.
After Rory had consumed the soup and drank the freshly squeezed orange juice, she placed the tray with its contents on top of the dresser and left her room to look for Tristan. When she stepped into the hallway she thought that she would never find his room, but it ended up being easier than she had thought. His room was the only one with its door open, giving her a perfect view of him as he sat in an armchair with his headphones on and his fingers tapping to the beat only he could hear. She stood in his doorframe silently until he finally sensed someone else's presence and looked up straight at her. His hands instantly went to his headphones, pulling them off.
''Hey,'' she said, still not moving.
From her expression he could tell that she wanted to say something, so he patiently waited for her to find the words or the courage. While he waited he just looked at her, not caring that he was doing this so openly and freely and neither did she, for she just kept her gaze lowered while he did this, her hair hiding her flushed cheeks. She gave him the opportunity to follow the road down her strands of hair, which hung straight down, to her chest and down to her thighs, following the curve of her stomach and hips. In his wildest dreams he had already circled her belly button with his tongue before trailing down it, ready to explore new depths.....
And he had placed his hands upon her hips so many times, in his imagination, of course; he couldn't even remember all of them or count them. In reality he had never even come close to place a hand upon her cheek; that was all he wanted- to touch her, one time. He had had more than enough occasions to do just that, but he only wanted to touch her if she wanted to. Otherwise it wouldn't count, nor would it give him the satisfaction he was looking for. He brought his eyes back up to her face, surprised to find her looking at him with those light blue eyes, which reflected both her personality and her beauty, a beauty she never seemed to be aware of.
''Am I bothering you? Cause I.....''
Tristan shook his head. ''No, you could never bother me, Mary.''
A flicker of recognition appeared in Rory's eyes, although she didn't say anything about it. Instead she clasped both of her hands together in front of her. ''I..... I uhm, well, I just wanted to thank you for the food.''
He shrugged. ''Everyone's gotta eat sometime; I just chose a time, that's all.''
Rory tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, hesitating , before taking a few steps in to his room and towards where he was sitting. ''And..... thanks for letting me stay here tonight. And for giving me my space back there, in the bathroom; appreciated that. Thank you.''
Tristan watched her as she took another step towards him. ''No problem. And I'm sorry for just coming in there like that. I was just worried, because I heard you crying.'' He paused to look at her, holding her gaze as he continued. ''Are you okay?''
''Yeah,'' Rory said, too quickly in Tristan's eyes.
''Are you sure? I don't mean to pry and all, but.....''
''Well, you are,'' she said sharply, causing Tristan to avert his eyes from her, letting her know that he was taken back by the sudden sharpness of her words.
''Tristan,'' she started, while taking yet another step towards him, standing almost completely in front of him by now. ''I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just.....''
''No, I should have just minded my own business.''
Rory remained silent, leaving herself in an awkward position, as she wondered what she should do now. Tristan, meanwhile, looked at her again, although he didn't bother to level his eyes with hers this time. Instead he was left to look at her arms, flawless, except for the bruises on both of them, close to her wrists. He scanned for small holes, the size of a needle, and cuts; but except for the bruises there was nothing to see, which gave him some sort of relief. Without a warning he reached out his hand and grabbed one of Rory's arms, causing her to gasp in surprise.
''How did you get these?'' he asked, leveling his eyes with hers.
Rory shrugged and pulled back her arm. ''Not important.''
''I should go back to my room, it's late.''
And he didn't stop her. He let her walk out of his room and back to her own. He didn't think that the bruises were big enough to fuss about, but perhaps he hadn't looked close enough, for the inner damage was big enough to worry about, maybe even too big for her to deal with all by herself.
Rory carefully listened to the silence around her, hoping for some sign of movement or some small, irrelevant sound that would let her know that he was heading for her room, but, no matter how hard she listened, there was nothing to be heard but plain silence. She sighed and rolled onto her side so her gaze would automatically be aimed at the door that led towards the hallway. She didn't seem to be able to fall asleep and get lost in the intricate forest of her dreams. But maybe that was for her own good because every time she would close her eyes, she would see the vivid images of her room and his face.
Laying here alone with no daylight creeping through a single crack, she felt afraid - afraid that ''he'' might walk through the door the moment she would drift off into slumber, afraid that ''he'' would hurt her again, afraid that ''he'' would take her for a trip into her worst nightmare once more. Rory stifled a sob before it got the chance to escape her throat. She had cried enough. She had already broken down and given into her tears today and she had already proved how weak she was to both herself and Tristan. Tristan, who hadn't asked all the questions that he should have. And, before she knew it, she was out the door, heading over to his room, because she was afraid of being alone, afraid that the images in her head would become real once more.
But when she reached his room, it was just as dark as hers had been and the figure underneath the covers lay still, too still to be awake, which came as somewhat of a disappointment to her, although she didn't know why. She wouldn't be able to tell him anything anyway. She couldn't tell anyone anything. She was too embarrassed. But at the same time she felt like she needed to tell someone, knowing that she would eventually collapse underneath the weight of the burden she was carrying. And for some reason she wanted to tell Tristan, even though she knew that she couldn't tell him. So, she turned back around, grateful that the choice had already been made for her. But when she had her back completely turned, she heard the light rustling of sheets and clenched her hands into fists in anticipation.
''Watching me sleep, Mary?''
At the sound of his voice, she turned around to look at him, searching for his eyes in the shadows. ''Sorry, I didn't mean to, I just..... I couldn't sleep.''
''Me neither,'' Tristan said, sitting up slightly, so he could see her better standing in the doorway. ''So, are you going to stand there all night or.....''
''Or what?'' she asked curiously.
Tristan grabbed the covers on the empty side of his bed and threw them aside, giving Rory an obvious hint, one that made her sick because it reminded her too much of what had happened earlier that night. She took a step back into the hallway.
''Can't we just go downstairs and get a glass of warm milk, I hear that helps?'' she tried.
Tristan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. ''Mary, I swear I won't do or try anything. I just figured that we could both use the company and that it would be more comfortable than a chair or something.''
''No, I think I should go back into the other room.''
Tristan locked eyes with her and nodded. ''I'll get you a glass of. what was it, warm milk?''
Rory couldn't help but smile at his kind words, realizing that she might be able to trust him, if she only gave him a chance. So she did. She took a giant leap and slowly started to walk over to the bed, holding his gaze all the while.
''You swear you won't do anything?'' she asked, when she reached the edge of the bed.
Tristan smiled. ''You think a lot of yourself, you know?''
Rory returned his smile and slid underneath the covers, pulling them as far up as she could without making it look awkward. She lay on her side and looked over at Tristan's figure, barely making it out in the dark. He, on the other hand, lay on his back, wanting to make her feel as comfortable as he could. A silence kept her from feeling so, but when Tristan opened his mouth, he only made it worse in her eyes. He started to pull at one of the many thin strings from her web.
''So, what's the real reason you're here?''
''I told you, I couldn't sleep,'' she softly answered, hoping that he would drop the subject.
''You know what I meant,'' Tristan said. ''Why did you come here, asking if you could stay the night?''
''Because of the rain. I couldn't see anything through my windshield.''
''You and I both know that's bull,'' he said, while turning a little, so he was now facing her.
''You think it's bull,'' Rory softly said.
Tristan met her eyes. ''Then why did you cry?''
Rory lowered her eyes, trying to come up with a reasonable answer as quickly as she could, but because of how panicked she was she found nothing rational in her mind. Instead she saw those images again, ''his'' face. It had been just as close as Tristan's was right now. Rory subconsciously bit her lip, not knowing what she had done until she tasted the blood. The cut had begun to bleed and it brought tears to her eyes, tears Tristan saw gleaming in her eyes. He followed their trail down her cheeks which led him to see the blood on her lower lip. He reached out and wiped away the blood with his fingers.
''And how did you get this cut?''
Rory didn't say anything as she brought her hand up to wipe away the tears, giving Tristan another glance at the bruises near her wrists. They were slightly darker than her skin, making them stand out.
''And how did you get those bruises?''
When Tristan gently ran his fingers over them, she began to sob.
''Rory, what's wrong? Tell me what's wrong,'' he said a little more forceful, not comprehending her reaction.
Rory shook her head. ''I can't.''
''Why not?'' he sensitively asked, bringing his hand up to her face to wipe away the tears. But when he did,she cringed.
''Please don't touch me, not right now.''
He pulled his hand back. ''Rory, what happened? Why.....''
''You promise you won't tell anyone?'' she asked through her sobs.
Rory took a deep breath and calmed herself down a little, before continuing. ''I came here, because I had to get out of Stars Hollow, away.''
Rory closed her eyes tightly. ''I was home alone, cause my mom's away with Sookie for the night, and I didn't want to be alone, so I asked Patrick to come over and..... and he did. We, well, we made out, you know; I mean, we've been dating for a while now and I knew that at one point we would have to..... to go farther, cause he was getting more touchy-feely.....''
Tristan narrowed his eyes at her words, but didn't say anything. All he did was listen, while he made sure not to touch her, although that was all he wanted to do right now, to reach out and touch her, comfort her.
''.....So, we were making out, in my room, and then at one point he pinned me to the bed and.....'' Rory stopped long enough to place both her index and middle finger on one of the bruises, knowing that Tristan's eyes were following her every movement, ''and..... the bruises are from where he grabbed me, so I couldn't push him off and the cut, that's where he bit me, before he..... well, he.....'' But Rory didn't finish her sentence; instead her cries got louder and she covered her face with her hands, trying to hide from Tristan because of how ashamed she was.
''He raped you?''
Rory didn't answer all she did was cry.
''Did you tell someone about this?''
''N.....no, I'm too embarrassed,'' Rory mumbled through her hands. ''My mom will be so disappointed.''
''No, she won't. She'll be mad and she'll understand. You have to tell her and you have to report this to the police. I mean, rape -it's not okay.''
''I know,'' Rory said, her voice still cracked with tears while she removed her hands. ''But I just never thought it would happen to me, cause I.....''
''Because you didn't deserve it.''
''Everyone's gonna think differently of me now. And, oh God, I might be pregnant, cause he didn't.....'' Tears streamed down her cheeks again, as she continued, looking Tristan in the eye now, not caring anymore what he thought. ''And diseases.''
''Sssh,'' Tristan murmured,as he protectively wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer towards him. ''Those are all things we can fix.''
''No, we can't. I could have aids and I don't want an abortion, but I don't want a child when I'm 16 either.'' The last part was barely audible because she hid her face in Tristan's shirt while she continued crying, her breath ragged.
''Sssh, you're making things worse by saying all of that.''
''But it's true and I don't want it to be.''
''We'll go to the hospital tomorrow and check all of that. And then we'll go and tell your mom,'' Tristan tried reassuring her, although he knew that nothing could. ''Everything will be alright.''
He listened to her cry, until she finally cried herself to sleep, while he thought about tomorrow. Tomorrow they would repair everything that could be repaired. But for now she just needed to sleep and leave the worrying up to him. And as he held her tight, his eyes glazed over with tears too, for his heart was aching and he also drowned in his tears that night. He drowned in her misery.
REVIEW! Please? :-) So, this was once again not a happy ending, but I don't think that I just could have ended it with Tristan and Rory making out or something, because (for the sake of this story) Rory was indeed raped and that just doesn't go away over night. I wanted to show another side of Tristan, a more serious and caring side and I tried to get into the mind of Rory to portray what she was feeling as well as I could. I apologize for the mistakes, the ending and if the characters were OOC. I just listened to a song called 'Misery' and came up with this story, which I, of course, ended up writing. So, thanks for reading. You can hate or love it, you're free to have your own opinion. Thanks! :-)