Always Something There to Remind Me
AU. Sort of a song fic – Trory.
It had been so long since he'd been home. Memories came flooding through…So many memories and people conveniently tucked away in the recesses of his brain. All except one person who couldn't seem to stay hidden, always there, always a reminder of days passed and opportunities missed. What happens when he finally goes home to face his past?
AN: Hi guys! This is my first fic EVER. Please be kind. I usually just beta stories, but I heard this song, and I couldn't get the thoughts out of my head, so I thought I'd finally try my hand at writing something. It was meant to be a oneshot, but this came out instead. I've written a few chapters already, but I've hit a wall. Hopefully, you're reviews will inspire me.
Just to give you background, this is mostly a story about Tristan. Kinda of a story of his evolution into becoming the person, we feel he would be if he ever came back to the show. There are a lot of flashbacks, some that actually happened in the show, and some that I made up. Everything that's happened in Season 7 up until Merry Fisticuffs has happened.
Please give it a chance. I hope you like it!
I beta'd this myself, so all mistakes are my own.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls. I also do not own "Always Something There to Remind Me" or Naked Eyes. Just borrowing them for this fic.
Please read and review. Thanks!
"Well, how can I forget you, girl? When there is always something there to remind me...always something there to remind me…"
He chuckled to himself, as the well known 80s song drifted through his speakers. The irony of it all. He'd just been thinking about her again, and now, this. It was like someone was trying to tell him something…but what? He'd been in Hartford for barely an hour and all of a sudden the memories came flooding back.
He hadn't been home in five years. The minute he set foot in Bradley International Airport, unbidden memories came flooding to him, like a key unlocking the floodgates. He recalled times spent with old friends when he was a little boy. Society parties when he'd grown older. Chilton, his old friends, old conquests…Paris, Duncan, Bowman, and countless others.
He thought it was odd that he was thinking of them now. He hadn't thought about anyone connected with his hometown in years. Well, that was a lie. He did think about someone, all the time. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't seem to forget her or her bright, blue eyes… He thought he saw her once while he was in New York on business. He was walking down the street, when he passed by a café, and saw a brunette reading a book. She looked enough like her from behind, and she seemed so enthralled with her book. He smiled and jogged over, but when she turned around, he was disappointed to see the girl was Asian, and not who he had originally thought. Actually, he thought he saw her a few times. But this was the first time he'd acted on the impulse to see if it was her. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Now was not the time to go down that road, especially not here…not now.
He sat in his driveway, looking up at his home. He used that term loosely as it hadn't been a home to him in years. Memories of running around happily as a little boy ran through his head. Until he remembered having to leave for Military School. No, this place hadn't been home to him since he left, and it would probably be stay way. As soon as he walked into his childhood home, having yet to say a word in greeting, his older sister, Trina, ambushed him, and droned on about having important business that she had to attend to.
"Please, Tris! Would you be an absolute sweetheart and pick up Ashley at school for me?" Before he could answer she said, "Thanks! You're a peach!" She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and ran out the door. His parents weren't home…what a surprise.
"Welcome home, Tristan!" he muttered to himself, before he walked back out the front door, got into his car and headed towards Chilton. This brings us to his current predicament. Listening to an 80s classic, chuckling to himself, trying not to think about a certain brunette, but being quite unsuccessful. Being here at Chilton, where it all began, where he first met her…
"I walk along the city streets you used to walk along with me, and every step I take reminds me of just how we used to be."
"Great!" he muttered to himself. He did that a lot he noticed. Now he couldn't get the song out of his head, and when he wasn't paying attention he was humming it! Again, he just shook his head and laughed silently at himself. He looked at his watch and noted that there was still about half an hour before the Junior High classes got out and the high school let out about an hour after that. Seeing as he would have no opposition, he decided to walk around his old haunting grounds to see how things had changed.
Again, like the airport, as soon as he walked through the doors, he had flashbacks of old times. Good times. He walked by Mr. Remmy's old English class. Memories of when he first saw her flashed through his head.
" Correct. He would turn to David Copperfield for inspiration…." Mr. Remmy lectured. At this time, the door opened, and Tristan strolled into the classroom.
"Ah, Mr. Dugray." Mr. Remmy greeted.
"Sir." Tristan returned as he handed him a note.
"Nice to have you back. I hope your Grandfather's better." Mr. Remmy offered as he looked at the note.
"Much better, sir." Tristan replied politely.
"Good. Take your seat, please." Mr. Remmy said, pointing toward the back of the class.
Tristan walked over to his seat when he noticed Rory. He looked her in the eye, and openly stared as he passed by, causing Rory to shift uncomfortably in her seat.
"Great Expectations, A Tale of Two Cities, Little Dorrit, all major influences on Leo Tolstoy. Tomorrow we will focus on…" Remmy continued with his lecture.
While in the back of the class, Tristan was still looking at Rory. He leaned over his desk to the boy in front of him and asked, "Who's that?"
"New girl." The boy whispered back with a smirk.
As Remmy brings the lecture to a close and dismisses class, Tristan leans back with a smirk of his own.
"Looks like we got ourselves a Mary." He said to his friend.
Later that day
Rory walked down the almost empty hallway, as Tristan approached her from behind.
" Hey, Mary. Hey, Mary!" He called out. Rory stopped and turned around. She noticed there was no one else in the hallway.
"Me?" She pointed to herself and asked, with a look of confusion on her face.
"Yeah, you." He smiled, as he sauntered over to where she stood.
"My name is Rory." She supplied.
"I'm Tristan." He smiled.
"Hi" She said, offering a shy smile.
"So, you're new?" He asked.
"Yeah, first day." She sighed.
"Well, Remmy's class is rough." He continued.
"Yeah, it seemed very intense." She scoffed.
"You know, I could loan you my notes if that would help." He offered.
"Really? That'd be great." She replied, happily.
"Yeah? How great?" He asked in a low voice, stepping closer to her
"I don't know. Mr. Remmy said that getting someone's notes would be…" She stuttered, noticing his change in tone, and closeness.
"I could even help you study if you want." He asked, touching her text book, now invading her personal space.
"Um, I kind of view studying as a solitary activity, but thanks." She said politely, trying not to sound so nervous.
"Bye, Mary." He said with a smirk, as he took a step back and walked away.
"It's Rory." She muttered, looking at him confused and a little embarrassed.
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. 'God I was a jerk!' he thought to himself, of the memories that just didn't seem to stop. He shook his head again, to try to clear it of these thoughts. Feeling sorry for himself was not going to get him anywhere.
He'd changed. He'd gone to military school, and at first, he'd been a little rebellious. When he realized his father was not pulling him out anytime soon, he decided to "behave". He'd made some real friends, pulled up his grades, and graduated in the top third percentile of his class. Not valedictorian, but still much better than what he would have done if he hadn't been kicked out of Chilton. Military school grounded him. Taught him to appreciate life…this led him to another set of memories. Ones he definitely tried not to recall, at least not in public. But again, since being back in Hartford, he was unable to suppress them.
He went home once while at military school. His grandfather was sick, and asked his son, if he would allow his grandson to come home. He was dying. Tristan spent those last two weeks with his grandfather. His grandfather was another reason he'd straightened out.
"Tristan! Tristan!" Janlan called.
"Yes, grandfather?" Tristan answered, running into the den. He'd been home for two days, after learning his grandfather was sick and possibly dying. It was his senior year, and graduation was fast approaching. He was doing quite well in his classes, and so far ahead that being away for two weeks was not going to ruin his class standing. Besides, he'd already gotten his college acceptance letters. He deserved the little break. He was trying to be strong, not show his grandfather how hard this was for him. Seeing him looking so frail in his armchair, Tristan had to hold back the tears. "Did you need something?" He forced out.
"I want to talk to you. Come, sit by me." Janlan said, motioning to the chair next to him. Tristan nodded, walked over and sat down.
"What's up?" Tristan asked curious as to what his grandfather wanted to talk about. He knew he wasn't in trouble, but there was serious tone to his voice.
"Tristan, you know that I won't be around much longer…" Janlan began, before Tristan interrupted.
"Grandpa, NO!" Tristan stood.
"Sit down!" Janlan cut him off, motioning for him to sit, showing slight irritation at the interruption. "Calm down and let me finish! Tristan, be reasonable! I'm an old man, and my time is coming up…Ah! Ah! Ah!" He said, shaking his finger in Tristan's face, stopping any further interruption. Tristan sat down with a grim look on his face, but complied with Janlan's wishes. Janlan cleared his throat before he continued.
"I just wanted you to know how proud of you I am. I always have been." He began, sounding a little choked up. He cleared his throat again, and with more determination continued. "Even when you were at Chilton, pulling all those pranks and getting into trouble, I knew you were a good boy. I knew you had it in you to do great. You just needed the proper guidance. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you more, and that I allowed you to get shipped off…" As he trailed off, Tristan saw his opening.
"No, Grandpa." He said gently, laying a hand on his grandfather's hand. "It was necessary. I may not have understood then, but I understand it now. I needed to be sent away. I needed the discipline. Otherwise, I don't think I would be where I am now, and I don't think you'd be so proud." He finished in a whisper.
Janlan pat his grandson's hand affectionately. "I would have, son. If anything, I would have been proud of how angry you made your father." He chuckled warm heartedly. Tristan smiled sheepishly. "I don't know if they have a name for that shade of purple." He laughed. Tristan laughed at his grandfather's audacity. He was going to miss this. Before he let his morbid thoughts continue, he smiled cheekily at his grandfather.
"Well, you know me Gramps! Always up for a challenge!" Tristan winked.
Janlan, looked at his grandson. He saw so much of himself in him. He smiled at him. "I know. You're a fine young man, Tristan. Now that you know you have it in you, don't ever hold back and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. I'm proud of you son, and I love you." He finished in a quiet but strong voice. Tristan stood up and hugged him.
"I love you too, Gramps! I love you too!" Tristan returned, hugging onto his grandfather for dear life.
AN2: That was it. My first chapter. I'll post the 2nd chapter in a few days.
I want to thank HolyCrossBaby. She's one of my best writers and a good friend, who's been bugging me to write something since I told her of my ideas. I told you I'd do it!
To all my writers (old and current)…thanks for letting me be your beta. You all truly inspire me…this is dedicated to all you guys! I hope you enjoy this as much as I've enjoyed your stories.
And lastly to my late father, who's always inspired me to do what I want to do, no matter what others may think. We love you dad, and miss you very much!
Please don't forget to review! Thanks!