Hey there everyone. I know you've all been waiting so patiently for me to update Make A Wish and I'm working on it. I truely am. But i simply could not get this out of my head and I needed to. Now hopefully I will be at peace and finally be able to finish the next chapter. This is a one-shot exploring the process Logan went through during the break-up to finally realize his feelings for Rory. It's sad. I'm going to warn you now but hopefully it's a happy kind of sad. Please review and tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, nor will I ever.

Summary: "I was depressed. I was lonely, I was upset. Ive known these girls forever. It was just companionship, okay? It meant nothing." Logan's thoughts during the break-up. One-shot. Rogan.

Cold Turkey

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Withdrawal refers to the symptoms that appear when a drug that causes physical or psychological

dependance is habitually used over long periods of time and then suddenly discontinued.

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He was in heaven. Behind his closed eyes he could see her angelic form on top of him, her soft brown hair falling over her shoulders, her mouth hanging open form pleasure. With every moan, every whimper, every whisper of his name, he was reminded of a chorus of angels. It was no wonder he was addicted to her. Only she could make him feel like this, like everything else in the world stopped existing for one brief moment and time and all that was there was the two of them. The first time he had kissed her he knew that he would never be able to stop. He craved for her kiss, her touch and when she was with him he slipped into a state of euphoria incomparable to anything he had ever experienced before. There was no breaking free of her spell. It had a complete and total hold on him. Strangely, he didn't want her to let go.

His hands followed the curves of her sides, clutching her flesh like a vice. They to a rest at her hips as she straddled him. As she leaned forward, her hair brushing against his chest he moved his hands along the curve of her ass and down the back of her thighs, pulling her as close to him as he possibly could. A whimper escaped her mouth as he pushed even further into her

"Logan..." she cried as he quickened the pace, taking control of what had up until now been her game. He couldn't stand the teasing anymore, the long, slow, strokes of her hips against his. He needed a release. Running his hand along her moist, sweat covered back, he crushed her against him. WIth a groan of pleasure she complied, her lips finding their way to his neck to kiss, nip, and suck every inch of skin she could reach. With a smile Logan thew his head back to offer her better access. He couldn't take this any longer. He needed to be in control.

With one swift movement he rolled them over and hovered on top of her. He planted his lips into the nape of her neck, sucking hard and causing her to moan with pleasure. His eye fluttered open as he traveled down her body, caressing every inch of her porcelain skin. His lips stopped their journey as they covered her hard pink nipple. He swirled his tongue around the tiny bump, making her body writhe underneath him. His hand found it's way over her other breast massaging and caressing as he bit down on the other nipple.

"Logan...please..." she whimpered as she arched her back to meet him. With a smirk Logan plunged into her again, showing no mercy as he thrashed his hips against her in a hard and face pace.

"Oh God!" she screamed beneath him as his head traveled upward and he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Her hands found their way up his back and she gripped him for dear life, digging her nails into his skin as he continued the rough pace. Logan hissed in response.

"Fuck yes!" She yelled. "Harder!" Logan smirked again as he grunted with pleasure. He loved when she talked that way. He loved knowing that he was the only one who heard it.

"I'm sorry? What was that?" he teased slowing down the pace. She groaned in disapproval.

"Fuck me harder, Logan, please." Logan complied as he started to thrust into her even harder than he was before. Her hips moved to meet his pace and they stayed that way, thrashing against each other, moaning in pleasure as they drew closer and closer to their release. She came first, not even attempting to keep her voice down as she screamed his name in ecstasy. As he felt her clamp against him as she reached her orgasm he reached his peak, exploding inside of her and grunting out her name.

"Rory!" He felt two hands push up against his chest, shoving him off of her in a angry hurry. He looked down at her face to see what the problem was and was met with a pair of angry brown eyes.

"What did you just call me?"

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In some severe cases, a withdrawal victim may experience visual or auditory hallucinations

in which he or she will see and hear things that are not really there.

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His mouth hung open in shock as he looked at the woman beneath him. Right before his eyes brown hair morphed into blonde and the striking blue eyes that he had envisioned looking into were gone. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to adapt to the sudden changes around him. He took one last look at the girl lying next to him in his bed. She was waiting for him to say something, anything. Yet, no words filled Logan's mind. When he opened his mouth, he couldn't stop the laugh that escaped his lips.

With a dramatic sweep of her hand, his bed partner threw the blankets off herself and wondered around the room, collecting her clothes as fast as she could. Logan sat up, his laughter coming to an abrupt stop as she slipped her panties on.

"Walker..." he started remorsefully. She ignored him as she continued to gather her clothes and pull them over her head. "Walker, come on. I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Just come back to bed." She scoffed as she pulled her black dress over her head.

"I know what you were thinking..." she started. "You were thinking I'm Rory. I don't know what bothers me more, the fact that you said someone else's name when you were inside me or that the only Rory's I know are guys." Logan glared at her, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Did you just accuse me of being gay? Because I think what we just did less than five seconds ago would seriously negate that argument." Logan claimed, climbing out of the bed himself and pulling on a pair of boxers.

"I don't know what to think about you anymore, Logan. I used to think you were one of the few guys out there that wasn't an insensitive bastard but I guess I was wrong. You're exactly the same as everyone else. You don't give a shit about anyone other than yourself." Walker claimed, grabbing her purse from the couch and walking toward the door. She paused, turning back to him, before walking out. "I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight Logan. If not don't worry. I'm sure you can find some other pathetic slut who's willing to give you guiltless sex. Just know that I'm officially closed for business."

Logan walked to the door as Walker stormed out of his apartment. He caught the door just before it was able to slam shut and saw Walker step into the elevator. She avoided his gaze as he watched her and an unexplainable surge of anger coursed through him. "Well, holy fuck! What the hell am I supposed to do without the slut of the century willing to jump into my bed? I might actually have to work to get into someone's pants next time!"

"Go to hell!" Walker yelled back at him, tears starting to cloud her vision.

"Right back at ya!" Logan screamed back as the elevator doors closed. He turned around, slamming the door to his apartment behind him.

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Mood swings are common ground among withdrawal victims, most of the time

they will experience sudden surges of irritability and anger.

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What the hell was his problem? Why on earth did he treat her like that? Like she was a worthless piece of shit? He had known her since he was five. Walker was one of the few people who actually knew him and now she hated him. He couldn't really blame her. He had acted like a complete and total jack-ass, and insensitive, misogynist, jack-ass. When did he turn into this? What the hell was his problem?

Looking around his apartment he realized he knew exactly what his problem was. She was everywhere. He couldn't deny her presence in this apartment any longer. The top drawer of his closet was filled with her clothes. His DVD collection was stuffed with some of her favorite movies that she had forgotten to take home with her. In his CD player was the disc she burned for him. It was probably time he got rid of everything that reminded him of her. Her scent still lingered on the extra pillow on his bed and he found himself using it more than he used his own. When he closed his eyes he could imagine her next to him for just a brief moment until he would turn over and realize that he was alone. He had never felt so alone in his entire life.

The aching feeling of solitude followed him everywhere he went and it seemed no matter how many people he surrounded himself with he was always alone. He was off in his own world, gazing absent mindedly in the distance as if waiting to find her there, waiting to see her walk up to him with a smile and greet him with a kiss. Lord how he missed her kiss, the feeling of her soft lips against his, the taste of her fruity lip gloss. He would do anything just to have one more taste of her. He would do anything to take her into his arms one more time and make...make love to her again.

Is that was this dull never-ending pang was? A broken heart?

It wasn't exactly familiar territory for him. He had never been in...love before. Just the thought of the word alone scared him. He didn't want to fall in love. He didn't want to put himself through the pain of love. It was all a joke, a mockery, something that people make up to tie people together for the rest of their lives and forbid them from acting on their natural impulses. It's the subject of fairy tales, just as gnomes and witches, and fairy-godmothers are. It's crap. He would know.

His mother claimed to loved his father. She said so all the time when he was growing up during her drunken ramblings. He would be gone until the late hours in the morning and she would sit in the living room nursing a glass of scotch or vodka or gin or whatever was in supply at that particular time. She didn't really care. She just wanted the buzz. Logan would walk downstairs and see her, almost passed out from intoxication. He would ask what she was doing and she would answer. She was waiting for Mitchum. She was always waiting for Mitchum, waiting for him to come back from his "meeting". Even at the tender age of twelve Logan knew that no business meeting lasted until three in the morning. He would help her up the stairs. She would ramble. Why did she stay? Why did pretend that she didn't know? Why did she love him after all these years? He would kiss her on the cheek after helping her into bed.

"I love you, sweetheart."

Those were the only times he heard those words, when she was slipping into unconsciousness after imbibing a bottle a scotch. She had a funny way of showing it...

The next morning he would confront his father. Mitchum would brush aside his accusations, saying that he had a very imaginative mind for a twelve year old. Should he even be thinking about those kinds of things at his age? Maybe it was about time to have a talk...man to man. He was full of shit.

"I love your mother, Logan. She gave me you and your sister. Lord knows I love you. What do you say we go to a baseball game, just the two of us? We'll put all this ugliness behind us."

He would agree. After all...his father loved him right? He would run upstairs, change, and coming bounding back down, his face etched with excitement. He would find his father gone and a note on the counter. Apparently work was just more important. Even though he loved him. He just wasn't as important. His mother just wasn't as important. His sister just wasn't as important.

But he loved them.

Yes...Logan knew better than to fall in love. All it did was hurt people. Every time he had heard the word love it was empty, a false promise, a bringer of guilt.

"Logan...I love you."

Except once. It sounded so good coming from her, so true, so wonderful. She brought him into heaven for a brief moment in time. She always did. What he wouldn't give to go back there just one more time.

He needed to get over this. He needed to get over her. He had to erase every trace of her from his life if he ever wanted to stop feeling this way.

He'd start with the closet.

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Cravings occur when the withdrawal subject misses the pleasant

association of euphoria experienced when using the drug.

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She had knocked five times now. It was a relatively small apartment and she knew he was in there. He just didn't want to speak to her. He was afraid and it was as he should be. She was ready to tear him apart from limb to limb and feed his carcass to the dogs. She was ready to burn him alive, to tie him to the back of a wild stallion and have him dragged across a rocky trail, to strap him to a stretcher. He was going to pay and it was as simple as that. No one crossed the path of Honor Huntzberger without getting justice, not even her little brother.

"Logan!" she screamed as she banged on the door once again. "I know you're in there. You can't run away from me any longer! I have a question to ask you. I want to know exactly why my best friend came driving to my house in the middle of the night in tears rambling about what a worthless slut she was after I watched her spend the whole night with you!"

The silence still sounded from the other side of the door. Fed up, Honor jumped up in the air, knocking down the spare key from on top of the molding over the door. "I'm coming in whether you like it or not!" she yelled as she pushed the key in the hole and opened the door.

"Logan!" she yelled as she turned the corner out of the tiny foyer and into his apartment. "Logan I-" She stopped as she took in the appearance of the room around her. Everything he owned was piled up on the floor as if a tornado had completely ransacked the place. Her mouth hung open as she tried to manuever around the never ending mound of crap. Stepping over a pile of DVD's she finally saw her little brother curled up in a ball on his bed. It was completely stripped of all blankets and sheets and the pillows had been thrown to the floor. She looked at his face as he stared into no where, tears falling down his cheeks.

All anger completely dissolved from her body as she ran over to the bed, trying desperately not to trip over the clothes, furniture, and other trinkets lining the floor. "Logan..." she called out, worried, as she sat next to him and stroked his hair. "What happened here? Why is all your stuff in a pile in the middle of the floor?" Logan sniffed. "Logan..."

"I couldn't sleep." he answered, simply.

"You couldn't sleep so you destroyed your apartment?"

"I couldn't sleep because I couldn't stop thinking about her so I...went through my apartment to get rid of everything that reminded me of her...but everything reminds me of her."

"Oh my God..." Honor said in a whisper, closing her eyes to collect herself. "Logan why are you doing this to yourself? You need to call her. You need to see her and tell her you love her."

"I don't love her!" Logan screamed, shaking his head in denial. "I never loved her. She was just a way to pass the time."

"Logan, you love her. Just admit it to yourself!"

"No, Honor, I don't!" Logan insisted, his anger starting to build up inside of him.

"Yes, Hamlet, you do." Honor teased. Logan scoffed and buried his head into the mattress.

"There's no such thing as love." Logan grumbled.

"Oh, yes there is." Honor said, nodding her head. "Trust me. I know. You know you're in love when you wake up alone in the morning and wish his arms are around you and you close your eyes and you can see him there and that alone makes you smile. You know you're in love when everything you own reminds you of him..."

"Suddenly I have the feeling we're not talking about you anymore." Logan said, turning over and looking at his apartment.

"Um...no...no, honey, this place looks like the dumpster in A New Hope." Honor said. "I'm slightly terrified that a snake like creature will pop up and try to eat me."

"Thanks for trying to make me laugh. The last time I watched that movie she tied her hair up in buns at the side of her head and...well let's just say the golden bikini fantasy is everything every male ever thought it would be."

"Ew." Honor said, relinquishing the hand that was running through his hair. "Logan...I know you're under the impression that love doesn't exist but...I love you and I know that's real. I think you do too. And I think you love me. And if you can admit to yourself that they're are people out there who truly love you maybe...maybe you can admit that you love them too."

"Why does loving someone always hurt so much?" Logan said.

"It doesn't have to." Honor said. "Not if you tell her. Not if you fight for her. Logan you're miserable without her. Last night I watched you eat three bites of Thanksgiving dinner. You love Thanksgiving! It's the only time you like to come home and you sat there the entire night skulking." Logan shrugged.

"It wasn't that great this year."

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Those who fail to learn a meaningful and comfortable way of life without a drug

often relapse, choosing to use the drug again and achieve the associated euphoria.

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"I knew you'd have to hit the coffee cart eventually."

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The End