Title: Two Halves Of One Soul
Summary: They are two halves of a soul. With all the bright sides – and all the shadows. Rogan.
Warning: Major character death.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Gilmore Girls and am just borrowing the wonderful characters.
Copyright: Sarah Diaz 2006
Author's Note: I was in the mood to write a one piece – and a sad one. I love to have a little heartbreaking drama once in a while, and now was the time. If you don't like sad stories or major character death, don't read this. For anyone else: I hope you give this little story a chance. And if you do, reviews would be more than welcome as I'd really like to hear what you think about this story, even if it's a sad one. And now, 'enjoy' and I'll go back to the much happier world of Wedding Bell Blues and Curveball.
Two Halves Of One Soul
Being rich is nice. Very nice. You can buy whatever you want. Is it something antique or the newest prototype of a car. You never have to worry about being able to provide your family. Money will also get you out of almost any trouble you may have. You eat and drink the best things there are, the world lies to your feet, only a short trip with your private jet away.
It makes life easier I guess. At least to some parts. There are shadows as well though. Like having to live up to a certain image, to certain expectations, usually coming from the family. Those things can be a real bitch.
Being rich and having the right name, family, can be a curse.
Until nine years ago, I never thought much about it. I was rich, I lived rich. I had a name, I used it and cursed it at the same time. Back then, I thought I lived.
Today, I know that I merely existed back then.
Until my Ace entered my life. I thought life got interesting with her around. It wasn't until later that I realized that it didn't get merely interesting – it started. Oh, and boy got it complicated all of a sudden. To keep a Gilmore Girl happy is hard work… and sometimes nerve cracking.
I think the best people who can confirm that are Finn and Colin. They were there with me during every crisis, every argument, every big fight I had with my Ace. And they were there during our break-ups when I admittedly was one big mess. Only true friends would stick to a person like I've been one during those times. But then, they were also there each time I got my Ace back. For all the wonderful times I had with my Ace during those nine years. Our first meeting. Our first kiss. The first time we made love. Well, they haven't been there literally. I love them, but not that much. They simply were there. Helping me get through the changes I went through to become the man I am today. They were the first to know that I was hopeless in love for the first time in my life. They were there when I realized just that – and that she was The One. They were the first who knew that I was going to propose, helping me set it up. And the first to hear that she said yes. Not that they were worried – contrary to me. And of course they were there on our wedding day, as my best men, giving me enough to drink to help calm down the nerves, but keeping sure that I wasn't in the slightest way intoxicated and had all my marbles for the big moment where I made my Ace officially My Ace.
God, has that really already been five years ago?
When you're happy, time is flying. And Rory and I sure have been happy. Especially once we got over the rocks of a relationship that was, to say it straight out, very bumpy, at least in the first three years. We made it though, building up a life together. Finding a place for our own where we were away from the demands of daily life. Getting married. It wasn't easy, with me having to run the nations largest news company and her traveling through the entire world as the best oversee correspondent this nation ever had. Of course I'm biased – but I don't call my wife 'Ace' for nothing. So we had a busy life, one that wasn't easy to combine. But we had each other, loved each other and both wanted it to work. It was enough. And with the support of our friends and her family we managed to do really great.
I thought I couldn't get any happier than I was. Until my Ace told me four months ago that she was going to quit her job to make the news, right here at home – because a pregnant oversee correspondent just didn't do the trick. Now I knew how foolish it was of me to believe that I couldn't get any happier.
Stupid. I should have known that happiness like this one can't be forever.
It ended five days ago. Five days since happiness and joy changed to excruciating pain and never ending agony. To utter despair.
There are times where neither being rich nor having a big name can help you anymore. There are things no money on this Earth can buy.
Friendship. Love. Happiness.
Turn back time.
Raise someone from the dead.
Finn and Colin are here. They've been here when I opened the door at seven thirteen pm five days ago, expecting my Ace, coming home from work, running a bit late – and find instead two men at my doorstep, one wearing a uniform, one my family's long acquaintance, the police commissioner.
It's never good to have the police at your door, looking all grave and sad. I didn't want them to say it. I didn't want to hear it.
No such luck.
"There's been an accident. – I'm so sorry Logan," the commissioner had told me, crushing me with these few words. He went on, telling me and my friends that my beautiful Ace fell victim to something so terribly common like a drunken driver who just didn't pay attention and hit the woman that is my entire life fully frontal before she even had the chance to get into the limousine I had insisted on because I didn't want her to drive anymore while being six months pregnant. She had lived long enough to leave the first police officer on scene, the man in the uniform, a last message for me.
"I'm sorry. I love you. We'll see us in the next life."
After hearing those last words of my Ace, I died. My body switched to a robot mode. I went through the things that needed to be done, not saying a word more than necessary. Going with them to identify the body of my wife. Signing this and that. Organizing the funeral.
That had been the hardest. The only time in those five days where a very tiny part in me that was still alive screamed and squirmed in devastating pain in the face of the terrible truths: that my Ace was dead. That our child was dead, before it ever got even a chance at living. Our daughter, as the coroner told me after the autopsy. It was then that I broke down and finally cried, falling apart in Lorelai's arms – in Luke's arms. Not that they were in any better shape than I was.
Yesterday was the funeral of my wife and daughter. We kept it private though outside the church there were hundreds of people gathered, mourning the person they thought they knew due to her reports. Inside were only allowed those who really knew and loved her. The church was still completely full. More than full in fact. I guess it was what is called a beautiful funeral. Her coffin buried under a sea of sunflowers, her friends speaking about her great life. Babette and Miss Patty spoke. Lane and Paris spoke. Colin and Finn. No one's eyes stayed dry – but mine.
I was there because as the mourning husband and father I was expected to be there. Because I think my friends needed me to be there. I wasn't there to say goodbye to my Ace. That body that lay in the deep mahogany coffin wasn't anymore the girl that captured my heart nine years ago and never let it go again. She wasn't here anymore. And my father had taught me better than to let go in public like that, even if it were essential our friends and family. So I sat there in the front row and listened to what they had to tell about the amazing person that was my wife. And later, at the reception, I shook hands, nodded my thanks to the condolences and received more hugs than I probably received in my entire life.
Now they are all gone – but Finn and Colin. They won't leave me alone. I think they are afraid of what I'm going to do once I'm alone.
They are right to be worried.
I'm grateful to them, for all they've done for me and Rory. But this isn't anything they can help me through. Not this time. Never again.
My Ace is gone, and with her, my life is gone.
They won't understand. They'll think I'm a coward. Weak. That I'm egoistical.
And they're right.
I am weak. I am a coward. I am egoistical. I was before I met Rory and now, with her gone, I am again. She is my strength. The air I breathe. My conscious. My heart. My life.
The intensity that was my Ace was what made me run, back when we were just getting together. It scared me, how intense she was, how totally and completely engulfing. It took a while until I embraced the idea of stop being an individual and become half part of something complete. Unspeakable great and wonderful and breathtaking. If one isn't part of something like that I don't think he can understand how utterly happy it makes the people in such a connection that is commonly described as two halves of one soul.
Or how excruciating and unbearable it is to loose the other half of that soul you are lucky to share with someone.
It is a pain that is greater than I am.
My Ace is gone. Our daughter is gone with her. No one is left for whom I have to be strong. For whom I need to live on.
As much as I love my friends, her family – it will never be enough to fill that void in me with her ripped away from me.
Finn and Colin are sleeping now – due to exhaustion and with a little help of the mild sleeping powder I slipped into their coffee. They'll be sleeping for some hours more. I apologized for that to them in the letter I left them, thanking them for being there for me my whole life and helping me get my Ace to be mine and mine alone. Along with my will.
The simple truth is that I can't live without my Ace.
I can't and I won't.
So I take the easy way out, even if I know that it will disappoint Rory.
So I choose the way that will reunite me with my soulmate once again.
So I die with a smile on my face.