Gilmore Girls 1. Prologue: Not Military School

**AN: **So here's my first trory chapter fic. I have a 30+ page trory I'd been working on prior to this and I've seem to hit a block. So my question to you all is should I wait out the block and post the whole thing as a rather long one-shot or shall I break up what I have into chapters and put up another chap fic, updating as I go? If I do the latter, it can be up instantly and I would have enough material for the first few chapters.

And about this particular fic... try not to kill me P

Thanks for reviewing my other fics, it is very much appreciated

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**He Lied**

_Paris was yelling. Surprise, surprise. "Where have you been? You have to get dressed, we're on in ten minutes." _

"_Can't." Tristan told her. "Actually, my dad had me pulled out of school. He-" Paris stomped off impatiently, "-and is she unhappy. "_

"_What do you mean he had you pulled out of school? What happened?" Rory had asked him._

"_Nothing. Just ticked the old man off, that's all." _

"_By doing what? Tristan, come on, tell me."_

"_I got in some trouble."_

_He told her about breaking into Bowman's dad's safe. He told her how his dad was pissed and was going to enroll him in Military school in North Carolina starting immediately. The girl went into a ramble about how he could apologize and make everything better. As if 'I'm sorry' would help anything at all. _

"_I don't know what to say."_

"_Well, I imagine you're overwhelmed with the relief in knowing that soon I will be gone." _

"_I'm so sorry." _

"_Well, I'm a big boy. I can handle it."_

"_There's nothing you can…" _

_Tristan's dad appeared at the doorway and barked for him, "Tristan, come on." _

"_I gotta go. So, I might kiss you goodbye but, uh, your boyfriend's watching. Take care of yourself, Mary."_

Tristan walked away from the brunette who he knew was watching him leave. Sliding into the car beside his father, the boy sighed and leaned his head against the headrest.

The car pulled away.

"We waited too long. Far too long. Damn it Tristan! You and your insufferable pride!" Tristan's dad was pissed as hell, but not for the reasons he had led people to believe. The anger seeped through every inch of the older man's body but he wasn't angry with his son, not really. A sheen of pain hid under the surface rage as he repeated, "We waited too long."

Tristan wasn't on his way to military school.

He hadn't broken into a safe.

And all those suspensions he had recently? They weren't suspensions.

The car pulled to a stop. The blond squared his shoulders and followed his father into the building that had always scared him as a child. There was no time for any such fear now. There was no time for anything now. This place he hated would be his new home.

"We're checking him in." Mr. Dugrey informed the woman behind the front desk.

"You'll be very comfortable here."

"This won't be that bad, really."

"I'll send someone to check on you in the morning."

All the reassurances did nothing to settle Tristan's stomach. He slipped into the bathroom to change into his new outfit before sliding into the lumpy bed. At least his father's money had done him enough good that he didn't have a roommate.

Tristan shut his eyes and tried to sleep.

He knew he would fail.

The lights and noises of the building buzzed around him, poking at his already throbbing head.

Staring up at the ceiling of Hartford Hospital, Tristan distantly wondered how much it would hurt when he died.


	2. she doesn't care

**c l u e l e s s **

_adjective;_

** totally uninformed about what is going on; **

**not having even a clue from which to infer what is occurring**

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All in all, Rory didn't think that the Shakespeare play went as badly as it could have. It was probably for the best that Tristan couldn't be Romeo- knowing him he probably would have kissed her until she was forced to shove him off her. The boy was shameless.

Still, she vaguely wondered how long her cocky classmate would be sent away for.

The thought was soon forgotten as Dean walked up to her, jokingly asking if Paris had actually kissed her.

Tristan DuGrey did not enter her mind again for some time.

xXx

Paris was having an anxiety attack.

Since this was Paris, this was in all likelihood not the first time this had happened.

Paris was with Rory, and since this was Rory, Paris found herself being half-dragged to the nearby hospital to get checked out. Rory thought something was seriously wrong and Paris was having a hard enough time breathing, much less speaking. The brunette had interpreted Paris's glares as the normal template her face took.

Of course Rory, being the waif-like person she was, had discovered that trying to physically force Paris Gellar into doing anything wasn't an easy task. The two had struggled for a moment until Paris lost all patience and shoved the other girl off. In trying to prevent Paris from running away, Rory had grabbed her fingers… that didn't make the blonde girl stop, which resulted in Paris's finger getting broken.

Well, at least this managed to get Paris to the hospital.

The two had been on a coffee run. It was a Saturday and Rory wasn't exactly thrilled at being in Hartford, but apparently the teachers of Chilton really hated her. She had been assigned another group project. Guess who was in her group again?

Anyways, they had just wrapped up their first meeting and both wanted coffee. The two were arguing about the project and Paris was ranting about the imbeciles working with them, when Rory let slip that their teacher had told her that this project was probably more important than the final. And then she foolishly joked about the fact that if their last project was any indication, Paris really would screw herself over for Harvard.

The next thing she knew, Paris had dropped her coffee and was gasping for air, her vision going blurry.

Paris had yelled at Rory for being so stupid as to make her go to a hospital for something as routine as an anxiety attack. Her voice increased in volume as she waved her arm around and moved on to screeching about her finger. Rory tried to apologize for doing what she thought was helping, and Paris snorted something about doing it on purpose before storming out.

Rory was wandering the halls, trying to find her way out of the hospital, when she saw to her astonishment Tristan DuGrey kicking at a vending machine, adorned in a hospital gown.

"What, you managed to fake sick well enough to get out of military school and into here?" Rory exclaimed.

Tristan whipped his head up in surprise. An easy smirk fell upon his face as he nodded his assent. "You yourself noticed my God-like abilities."

"Seriously, how'd you manage to get back here?"

"I am a man of many talents."

"I see the school made you shave off your hair." Rory commented, glancing at the top of his head. "Gotta say, the soldier-school look? Doesn't work so well on you."

"So what are you doing here?"

"Paris had an anxiety attack…and her finger's kind of broken."

"Paris is here?" He frowned.

"No, she stormed off after ranting at me. So, when are you getting sent back to school? Or do you think your parents will just give up and let you back to Chilton?"

"I doubt that's happening." He smiled. Looking away, he added, "I should go. You know, having the nurses seeing me up and walking probably won't do well for my too-deathly-sick-for-school routine. But I had to get my chips." He shook the bag that had just plopped out of the machine he had been kicking.

"Right. I'll see you next year? They wouldn't keep you away for senior year, right?"

"What, are you gonna miss me?"

"God no," Rory snorted with a grin.

"Love you too." Tristan rolled his eyes and turned to walk away.

"Tristan…" Rory called hesitantly. He looked back. "You're- you're not actually sick, right?"

"Good-bye, Mary." The blond waved a hand carelessly back as he continued walking.

He was Tristan. He didn't get sick. Rory shook her head. There was no amount of illness that could cripple the level of big-headed jack ass-ery that encompassed him.

She left the hospital after finally finding the exit, her mind already back on how agonizing the Chilton project would be.

xXx

_you don't have a clue do you? you don't have a clue do you?_

xXx

Then the whispers started.

A phrase here and there, hushed and conspiratorial. Often spoken with breathy concern, always spoken with excitement at such a prime piece of gossip.

Rory usually paid rumors no mind, so it took longer for her to hear, to find out.

She eventually realized that following the chorus of 'did you hear?'s, one name kept popping up.

Tristan DuGrey.

Figuring that it was more to do with his continuation of pranking at military school, she tried not to listen.

Of course, it was Paris who brought it up to her at last.

"So, have you visited him yet? I'm sure he's been working the sick angle as far to his advantage as he can." Paris asked her one day.

"Excuse me?"

"Tristan." At Rory's blank look, Paris exhaled impatiently and rolled her eyes. "My God, I knew you were a bit vacant but I didn't think it was possible for anyone with ears to not know what's going on. People have been talking about it for the past two weeks."

"Excuse me if I don't exactly care about what hi-jinks Bible Boy's gotten himself into at military school."

Paris snorted. "You really haven't been keeping up. Gilmore, word around the school is he never went to military school. He's sick at the hospital."

"I saw him there when I went with you a few weeks ago- he was just playing hooky to get out of school for a bit, that's all." Rory answered, annoyed at Paris's condescension.

"No he's not. Sarah Connelly's mom is a nurse at Hartford Hospital. Connelly was waiting for her to get off work when she saw his name on a shift list. She asked her mom about it and he's been there ever since the day of the play."

"…What's wrong with him?"

"No one knows. It's confidential. Sarah's mom is actually on the verge of getting fired for even telling that much. Apparently Tristan's dad is really strict on keeping it all quiet."

"Well, it's not serious… is it?"

"Probably not- Sarah's been sneaking up to the hospital more to see her "mom" and she says he's walking around. They have to keep him for awhile, but people around here think he's just getting a nose job or something." Paris smirked. "The whole sick thing's likely a cover, so he doesn't totally lose credibility when he comes back. I mean, if he told people he was off to get his nose done he'd be laughed at but if he comes back and it looks good, the idiot girls here will swoon too much to really care how he got that way."

Class started and Paris turned back around, satisfied with the look of bewilderment on Rory's features.

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**AN:** I hope this didn't take too long; thank you all for the interest you've exuded in the story. Next chapter: lots of trory interaction. The more that people review, the faster I'm inclined to write ;) 


	3. Visiting Devil Spawn

_d e v i l: _

**an atrociously wicked, cruel, or ill-tempered person.** (what Rory thinks)

**a person who is very clever, energetic, reckless, or mischievous.** (what Rory will think)

**a person, usually one in unfortunate or pitiable circumstances** (what Rory will realize)

_-I suppose Tristan really_ could_ be described as the devil, after all..._

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The next day, Rory found herself sitting in the hospital's waiting area, debating with herself whether or not she should go through with seeing her annoying blond classmate. She didn't know why she should- he was the _devil. _

After a bit of deliberation, she asked the nurse for his room number. The woman flipped through some files and her face noticeably smoothed into a sheen of indifference. She told Rory that no one by that name was checked in.

Crossing her arms, Rory asked stoutly, "Then who's that over there?" The nurse looked over to where Rory had been pointing to and Rory quickly glanced at the file for the number. It was a juvenile trick, but it worked well enough, despite the fact that the girl inadvertently knocked over a (luckily) closed water bottle while attempting to be stealthy.

Smiling nervously as the nurse turned back to see what the noise was, the brunette murmured that she must have gotten the hospital wrong and walked away.

Ten minutes later, Rory had found and entered Tristan's room.

"Are you stalking me now?" Tristan cocked an eyebrow at her sudden entrance, surprise coating his features.

"It's been around Chilton that you're in here instead of military school."

"Well clearly if I'm here I can't be in military school."

"They said military school was a cover-up."

"Did they now?" He sounded bored.

"You lied to me."

"No, you assumed."

"And you let me!"

"Why does it matter?"

Rory didn't have an answer to that and looked down uncomfortably. "So, why are you here?"

"What, Sarah Connelly hasn't already blabbed that to you all?"

"It's not really a nose job, is it?" the girl snorted as she slipped into a nearby chair.

Tristan half shrugged, "I've gotta stay pretty."

"It figures that you'd be vain and stupid enough to do that-"

"I was joking, Mary. I'm not getting a nose job."

"Then what?" Rory frowned.

"I'm at a hospital, clearly I'm sick."

"You'll be okay right?"

"Mmhm."

"Gee, that's comforting."

"No, I'm deathly ill and only have six months to live." Tristan deadpanned. "It's really rather tragic."

"At least you'll stay pretty." Rory replied, playing along with the sarcasm. "So when will you be back at school?"

"I won't be." He stared at her levelly.

"So…you're going to military school after you get better here?"

"Something like that."

"Oh. Well I just wanted to see if you were actually here. But you are, so I've seen, and I should go-" She made to stand up, but Tristan held up his hand to stop her.

"Wait." He said. She looked at him quizzically. "I'm sort of getting cabin fever. It's a bit dull around here… You don't have to go. It'd be a nice change of pace to have someone other than Jamie and Linda to talk to."

"Who?"

"The night and day nurses."

"Oh."

"So yeah, you can hang around for a while. It's not like I'm going anywhere."

Rory looked at him for a moment, trying to find a sign that he was baiting her, but found none.

At her look of hesitance, he chuckled, "Look, I know it's hard to be around me when there's a bed in the room, but I promise that I won't be crying 'rape' if you find me too irresistible and end up making a move. But I can see why the temptation to do so would be so great that spending any amount of time alone with me would be _dangerous."_

"Can't you ever deflate your ego?" Rory rolled her eyes, but settled back into her chair.

Smiling slightly, he said, "So. Tell me about what I've been missing out on at Chilton lately."

"Oh yes, because I'm the one to ask when you want to know Chilton gossip."

"Okay fine, tell me about Stars Hollow then."

"Stars Hollow?"

"Um, your hometown?" He drawled slowly, patronizingly.

"I know what my town is called!" She snapped.

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Okay so tell me about it then."

"Do you care?"

"Yeah, maybe I do."

Tristan seemed genuine enough and the sincerity startled the girl, but not enough to suddenly have her spilling out her life story to a boy who she couldn't stand such a short while ago.

"I really should get going." Rory swallowed, trying not to be drawn in by his softer side.

Tristan sighed. "Fine."

She stood up awkwardly, not liking the tension that had just built up. "Um, so get well soon. Bye."

As she scuttled for the door, Tristan called out to her. "Rory."

Reluctantly, she turned to look at him.

"I wouldn't mind if you came to see me again." He was studying a spot on the wall behind her. "I mean, if you want to."

The girl felt startled again, but managed to nod. "Okay."

She smiled shakily and ducked away.

xXx

It took a few days for Rory to convince herself to show up to the hospital again, and she wasn't entirely sure she had made the right decision. She hadn't told anyone that she had gone to see him yet; though why she kept it secret she didn't know.

"Hi." She greeted as she stood by his door.

Tristan looked up from a magazine he had been carelessly flipping through and immediately a grin lit his face upon recognizing the girl. "Hey."

"You must not get a lot of visitors." Rory commented, smiling slightly at his obvious enthusiasm.

He shrugged. In reality, after the first dozen Chiltonites showed up at his door asking him about his nose job, he had the hospital staff get someone to keep an eye on his hallway and escort away anyone trying to go through his door. Except for Rory, of course, but that was hardly due to his undying love for her. Everyone else that had come to see him had not even bothered to hide the fact that they were there for gossip. It tired him and he knew that Rory wouldn't go spreading around every word he said.

"So, how's life?" Tristan asked politely.

Niceties were a foreign, uncharted concept with the pair of them and the simple question surprised her.

"Wow. Your opening line isn't a pick-up line." She perched gingerly down on the same chair she had occupied the last time she came. "It's okay, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Yeah." Rory stubbornly avoided giving out any details. "How are you?"

"Oh you know. Enjoying the holiday season in a hospital."

The girl had completely forgotten that Christmas was in a week. "That's… not fun."

"So, tell me what's with the 'I guess'."

"Boy issues. None of your business."

Tristan cocked his head. "Oh come on."

"No."

"Who am I gonna tell? I don't really socialize all that much at the moment."

"And maybe that's not the issue. Maybe I don't want to talk about it to you."

"Ouch. You're cold." He grinned. She glared. "Hey, if it's boy issues, I do happen to be a boy. I could help, you know."

"You have to swear not to mock me then. Or to leer. Or to make any sexual jokes. And I mean for the rest of my visit. And, actually, I mean there can be none of that for the rest of any possible future visits. If I so happen to decide to come again ever, that is."

"Strict terms right there," Tristan sighed as though the conditions burdened him heavily. "But I'll agree."

"Okay. So there's a new guy in town and he's really interesting and smart and, well he seems like he'd be a good friend. But everyone else in town can't stand him, including Dean."

"Wow you really are a popular vixen aren't you? The moment I'm out of the picture as the guy your boyfriend hates, a new guy pops into your life to take my place."

"I said no mocking."

"That wasn't mocking." He held up his hands defensively. "But what do you want me to say? You already know I think your boyfriend's a jealous prick with the intelligence of-"

"Stop it!"

"All right, sorry…"

"I don't know what convinced me into thinking that seeing you again would be a good idea." Rory crossed her arms.

"You get pissed so easily," the boy commented, intrigued. "I mean really. You seem so even tempered and then the second I open my mouth you take everything the wrong way."

"Oh, and there's supposed to be a good way to take you insulting my boyfriend?"

"Gilmore, you're allowed to have friends. Your boyfriend's a shithead if he's insecure enough to have you on a leash." Tristan shrugged, nonplussed with the girl's moodiness. "Unless of course you're just in denial and really he's got a right to be insecure… you aren't actually interested in this other guy, are you?"

"No," Rory replied defensively.

"Mmhmm."

"Well, he's different than Dean, that's all."

"_I'm _different than Dean."

"And I'm really just having to hold myself back from jumping on you." She rolled her eyes. "He's different in a good way."

Tristan laughed. "Mary, if you really didn't like me at all, you wouldn't have come back to see me, now would you?"

"Maybe I only came because I felt sorry for you."

"Well in that case, you have my full encouragement to leave. I'd rather be alone than have little-miss-perfect give me a pity visit." He narrowed his eyes.

"Fine." Rory muttered and walked out the door, keeping her eyes downcast the entire time.

"Fine."

xXx

"We're playing Chinese checkers. I'm blue." Rory declared the next day as she plopped down the game and settled into her chair. She looked at Tristan briefly before setting up her marbles.

He looked bemused. "Rory, what are you-?"

"You're arrogant, brash, rude, nosy, and infuriating to be around. But you're not all bad."

Tristan stared at her. "Come on, Rory, say it… you like me."

She gave him a look and returned to the board game.

"Say it…" he wheedled.

"I don't mind you, now shut up and pick your stupid marbles already."

Smiling, Tristan obeyed, watching as Rory's petulant glare dissolved into a small smile matching his own. He really was devilish.


	4. From Acquaintances to Friends

_Some people put up walls - not to shut people out, but to see who cares enough to tear them down _

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During the Chinese checkers visit, Tristan and Rory talked. The conversation consisted of little substance since Rory was as stubborn as ever in revealing her life story to him and Tristan wasn't about to tell her personal stories about himself when she wouldn't give him so much as a detail. Instead, they talked about everything irrelevant that popped into their heads, from mocking movies to analyzing music.

Much to her surprise, she would find later that she actually enjoyed talking to him. The two had a fair bit more in common than she would have ever believed possible. He wasn't as dumb as she had thought and his tastes unexpectedly veered away from the mainstream crap that had entranced many of the popular crowd. It kind of impressed the girl, to be honest.

She returned the next day, and a few days after that, and again the next week. She didn't know what compelled her to do that but he had asked her to come back and she felt badly for the boy, being cooped up alone like that. After her third visit, she really began looking forward to seeing him.

Outside of the school setting, she found him to be quite a bit better than merely tolerable.

Tristan was the first to give up on the personal details battle they were waging and one day described to Rory his date with Paris. He told her that he knew Paris was trying incredibly hard and it was sweet, in a way, but there was a tangible tension between them that made him certain that this wasn't something he wanted to repeat. She had yelled at the waiter; analyzed every dish on the menu in order to find one that would minimize the chance of spilling, staining, or getting stuck in her teeth; ran to the bathroom five times to check her appearance (or to give herself a pep talk, he suspected); and when the food finally came Paris only picked at it.

Rory decided to throw him a bone and told him about Lane and how Rory had to help her pull off an elaborate set of cover-ups to conceal her dating Henry from Lane's scarily strict mother.

From those inconsequential stories came other funnier ones and by telling those stories other people in their lives had to be introduced; before long they were telling each other more than they had ever intended.

Tristan was a nice distraction. Dean was great… except for the fact that he had taken on some characteristics of a golden retriever and his new pastime was to fondly follow her around. And except for the fact that a certain nephew of Luke's had come into town and stirred up the jealousy meter in her boyfriend. All the stupid boy drama was grating on her nerves and it was just nice to be around Tristan, who was funny, easy to talk to, and not jealous, mysterious, or lurker-like.

All right, so he was still Tristan, but these days that wasn't such a bad thing.

"So, are we friends now, Mary?" Tristan grinned one day. It had been almost two months since she first visited him in his room and she had seen him several days a week, sometimes for hours at a time.

"Yeah, I think so." She had grinned back.

The two were playing the game of Life at the moment, and he had just teasingly named his little pink 'wife' Mary. She had easily retorted by asking him archly if he was going to name his kids Duncan and Bowman.

"So, what exactly do you have? It's been two months…"

"Yeah? Wow, you must really like me to stick around for so long. But you know, I'm confused- I know you're a Mary and all but I don't even get a kiss after two months? We _are_ married, you realize."

"Must you hit on me?"

"It's in my nature. I might let up if you'd just admit you want me." He winked.

She glared.

"Oh, don't give me that. You've spent more time with me lately than you have all your other friends combined- you can't deny you want me. Isn't your boyfriend jealous?"

Rory looked slightly abashed as she muttered, "Well, actually Dean thinks I've just been spending more time with my grandparents."

"Ah, lying to the boyfriend about your whereabouts with a different guy. Hmm. If you didn't want me, you wouldn't feel the need to cover this up."

"Dean wouldn't understand; this doesn't mean anything."

"Oh you know Lorelai likes me better than Bag Boy anyways."

"She does not! She calls you Devil Spawn!"

"It's a term of endearment. Somehow I doubt Dean can provide very stimulating conversation. And you know, Dean wasn't the one who had his dad make a few phone calls to have a Star Bucks cart actually set up in the visitor's area down the hall so that mother and daughter wouldn't have to suffer through hospital coffee when visiting their favourite sixteen year old."

"Hello?_ I'm_ my mother's favourite sixteen year old!"

"That's debatable." Tristan's lips quirked. "But you know I'm her favourite teenage guy, that's for sure."

"Yeah well my mother's not exactly sane." But despite her protestations, Rory smiled. It was true. Her mother did like Tristan. After Rory realized he wasn't so bad, she began telling him more about herself and eventually her mom wanted to see what was so interesting about the hospital. Now, Lorelai herself would insist on stopping over every Friday prior to dinner at the grandparents'. Rory had a small suspicion that if he were a decade or two older, her mother would've wanted to date the boy.

"Sweet- switch salary cards with anyone on the board. Hand over your $90 000 paycheque, loser."

Rory rolled her eyes as they switched cards. She spun the spinner and said, "You know, you're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Being evasive. Every time I ask you specifics about why you're in here you avoid the question."

"It's not my fault you're easily distracted."

"Tristan, come on. I've seen you in here for two months and… you're getting worse, not better. You've been looking kind of pasty."

"Okay, I _know_ you meant to say that I've been looking ruggedly handsome."

"Tristan…"

"I'm fine."

"What do you have? What's taking them so long to fix it?"

"Rory. Just move your car already."

Sighing, Rory moved her game piece, accepting the play money he handed her and allowing the discussion to drop.

After the game ended (she had won and had boasted proudly despite it being largely a game of luck), she took out some school books and started working. Her time at the hospital was fun but she was still Rory after all. When she first started doing homework there, Tristan had mocked her but she insisted he take part- so he wouldn't be behind when he went back to school.

"I hate history. Have I mentioned that?"

"Only six times in the last fifteen minutes." Rory looked up from her book to give the boy a look. "Shut up. I'm the one who's getting tested on this in two days."

"Yeah so why am I reiterating your notes back to you?"

"How on earth did you manage to not flunk out of school with all this lack of motivation?" Rory glared.

"Well I did use to have just enough motivation to pass my courses. You see, whereas the voice in your head whispers to you 'Rory you can do better than this so study', _my_ voice yells 'you're a dumbass, stop slacking' when I'm getting dangerously close to being expelled." He shrugged easily. "But again, I'm not taking this course. I'm not actually in school right now. So why, oh why, are you forcing me to study with you?"

"You'll thank me next year when they don't make you repeat a grade."

"Rory…"

She looked up at him and took in his tired expression. "I know, I know, you're not coming back to Chilton. But that's just what it looks like now. Maybe your parents will change their minds. You do want to come back don't you?"

"What kind of a question is that?"

"Well, it's not like you tried very hard when you did go- I mean with all those suspensions, you were like a step away from expulsion."

"You don't know shit about that. You don't get to lecture me." The sudden cold hardness in his tone startled her. He did this occasionally; getting touchy about weird things. "You don't get to say that it's my fault I'm not going back."

"Don't be a victim, it is your fault. I don't want to be harsh or anything but you've got to own up to the fact that you messed up, Tristan."

"I'm getting tired. You should get back." Tristan curtly said.

"What? But it's only-" Her protest died as she registered the look on his face. "Are you kicking me out? Come on, isn't that just a bit childish?"

Trying to make peace with his weird change of mood, Rory teased, "You know, if you're going to be this impolite I'm never going to let you see my house."

"I'm not going to see your house regardless," he clenched his jaw.

Rory was confused now. "I know you're mad but-"

"This isn't about that. That's not what I meant." Frustration seeped into his voice. "God, Gilmore, you can be so thick."

"When you get out, you're coming to Stars Hollow. I mean, I've talked about it enough, don't you want to see it?"

"This isn't about what I want. Of course I want to. I want a lot of things."

"I don't understand what you mean…"

"Forget it." His dark mood was fading and he smiled lightly. "I'm sorry. You don't have to leave."

The girl still looked uneasy so he gestured to the history books and barked jokingly, "You're a dumbass, stop slacking!"

Rory stared at him dubiously but didn't bring the subject up again until she really was ready to leave.

As she put on her jacket and stuffed her school books back into her backpack, she snuck a peek at Tristan through her curtain of hair. "Tristan… when will you be well again?"

He smiled at her, but something about it seemed off. After spending so much time with him, she was learning to read the boy and he was learning to let his guard down more. "It's getting late. Wouldn't want Lorelai to worry."

"Tris-"

"I don't know." He cut her off before she could repeat her question.

"You will be okay soon right?"

"Rory, I'm better than okay already."

"But-"

"I'm better than okay. I'm doing pretty damn well."

"You-you promise?"

"Yeah Mar, I promise." He grinned disarmingly at her, his features oozing charming sincerity.

"Okay. Good night." She swallowed and smiled back, pacified. "I'll see you in a few days."

"Try not to piss off your history class when you get your test back and it turns out you got 110," he teased.

"Watch as I fail now because you jinxed me, you idiot!"

The blond boy sighed in mock-exasperation and held out his hand. "We have to do the anti-jinx thing, don't we?"

"Damn straight." She raised her chin with a dignified air that clashed horribly with the immature rhyme that commenced from her lips. She tried not to smile as Tristan said the rhyme in unison with his deeply masculine voice; it sounded even more ridiculous than usual when she did this with him.

"Bye now, Devil Spawn." Rory cheerfully said as the anti-jinx 'spell' winded down. She was about to pull her hand away when Tristan stopped her by pressing a gentle squeeze into her much smaller hand. She glanced at their hands, as though startled to find them grasping against each other.

"Drive safely." He nodded at her, releasing her hand with a casual indifference. She instantly missed the warmth and electricity that his touch seemed to send through her.

Swallowing again, Rory muttered an 'okay' before exiting the room, smiling brightly while her cheeks lit up with colour.

* * *

**AN:** Sorry, this took a few days longer than I had intended. The first week of school blew so hard that I decided to transfer out, which is of course oh-so-fun. But I will definitely have a new chapter up for Dark Blue by wednesday. Thanks as always for reviewing! 


	5. Friends? Really?

He knows he has to tell her soon.

He knows what he's doing isn't fair.

He knows he's being foolish.

He's scared she will hate him for his silence.

Hate him for the secrets.

Hate him for letting things go this far. Go _so_ far.

He knows he has to tell her soon.

He just doesn't know how.

He can picture her eyes…the way they'll melt into pools of shocked distress.

He can picture them because he's seen the exact replica happen in the eyes of his godfather,

his grandfather,

his doctor-mentor-confidant friend.

He can picture her eyes and he simply can't do it.

He knows what they have now is an illusion.

He knows what they have now is almost cruel.

He knows he doesn't have the strength to speak the words he's just learned how to stop pitying himself over.

He can already feel his heart constricting with pain when he has to watch her watch him… not as a friend, but as an invalid.

He doesn't want to hurt her- selfishly; for he knows that hurting her would mean hurting himself.

He knows he can't see another set of eyes stare at him with that same look of sympathy, but more anguishing to him is the look of

_how could he do this to them?_

He knows they don't mean to look accusatory- they're not idiots who blame him for his own illness.

He can see it anyways.

He can see her eyes and hear her soft voice whispering **'**_**how could you do this to me?'**_

* * *

**We have lunch ev'ry now and then  
And I find myself humming love songs  
Again and again...**

Rory walked into the hospital room with a huge grin on her face. It was becoming a trademark motion of hers upon seeing him.

The boy in the bed looked up from his book and let his head fall back against the pillow as he sighed, "You're here _again?"_

She stuck her tongue out at him and his bored face dissolved with a laugh.

"I could just leave you to writhe in bored agony, if you'd prefer," Rory raised her eyebrows and jokingly took two steps back.

"Oh God no- seriously the only thing that's happened recently aside from your visits is the scuffle three of the nurses got in when they decided that I had to be given a sponge bath." He winced. "I got out of that one but if that terrifying experience is the only point of interest in my life outside of you, it's safe to say your visits are almost like life support now."

"I know. I only come so often because I know that you'd kill yourself if I didn't," she teased.

"Aw Ror, you know my company trumps the company of all your other plebian friends."

She rolled her eyes but internally lurched at the term 'friend'. Not so long ago, the two were antagonistic, but now she found herself asking if friendship really described what they were. He was so… The girl stopped her thought before it could finish. That was just his nature and she knew it.

"So what brand of homework did you cart with you today? I'm noticing a distinct lack of the token heaviness your bag usually has." Tristan commented as he took the backpack from her arms.

"That's because all I have to do today is practice for my debate-" She tugged the bag back from his hands, extracting a folder with several pieces of paper neatly stapled together.

"Excellent. That actually doesn't sound mind numbingly boring." The blond briskly snatched the folder out of her grip.

"What are you-?"

"Ah hah." He grinned, removing another stapled grouping of papers. "It's so you to have two copies of your work just in case you spill something on the other one."

Rory glared. "I'm not that predictable, am I?"

He laughed at her expression but didn't deign to respond.

Sighing, the girl held out her hand and gestured for him to hand back the papers.

He looked at her in amusement; placing the papers onto his lap before clasping his hands together over them in a condescending show of patience.

"Tristan, give it back. What do you want to look at that for, anyways?"

"For someone with a 4.11 GPA or whatever the hell you have, you can be pretty thick sometimes. How do you plan on winning this thing without someone helping you practice it out loud a few times?"

"My mom or Lane will be perf-"

"Your mom and Lane haven't been the ones listening to you mutter about every single topic you've been covering in class the past few weeks, nor did they go to the same classes you go to before you started muttering. Besides, I can help with the discussion of-" He checked the heading of the paper sitting on his lap, "-the privatization of health care: pitfalls and advantages? Oh my God, Chilton's getting increasingly boring by each assignment." At the look of 'you see?' on her face, he added, "But of course, I'm here and happy to help!"

"Look, I'm not doubting your ability to help. I just don't want to spend my entire visit forcing you to help me with this. We have a long weekend in four days and I probably won't be able to see you again until then-"

"-And I really don't mind helping you get this crap out of the way before then so you can come back here once you get your perfect grade and oh, I don't know, give me a thank-you present that consists of you in a naughty nurse/school girl/angel outfit giving me a striptease over my bed." Tristan interrupted cheerfully.

"In your dreams," Rory scoffed.

"You have no idea, Mary." He smirked. "Now get your ass down here so we can do your annoying debate already." He patted the area of the mattress in front of him.

Sighing, Rory sat cross-legged on the area he indicated. She looked up at him after mumbling incoherently about the lumpiness of the bed and was startled to find him watching her, his gaze as intense as it always seemed to be.

"Ready now?"

Sitting on his bed in such proximity to him with the boy looking at her like that and talking to her in that annoyingly deep and unconscionably alluring voice of his made her stomach flip in a way that bothered her very, very much. She wasn't supposed to have stomach flips over him!

Looking away from his gaze, she said something about the chair working just fine and attempted to shift off the bed and back to the visitor's chair.

Utterly not fooled by her attempt at hiding her awkwardness at being so close to him, Tristan rolled his eyes, grabbed her arm, and complained that one would think the girl was raised Amish by looking at her absolute discomfort of being near a guy. "I won't rape you or touch you in your bathing suit areas, if that's what you're concerned about."

Rory tried to tug her arm away from his grasp but failed, accidentally losing balance and falling into the blond as a result.

She was startled to find herself lying on his chest that rose and fell with each warm breath he took and staring at his face that looked almost sculpted in its attractiveness. The brunette haltingly marveled with unbridled incredulity at how well Tristan's cocky ass-like tendencies had blinded her to the fact that he really was unfairly good-looking.

His lips turned up in the barest hint of a smile and his lids half obscured his eyes since he was looking down at her.

Rory realized right then what her subconscious had long known… she _liked_ him.

Foolishly wondering what it would feel like to have his full lips pressing against hers, what it would it feel like to have it happen at this **exact** moment, Rory tilted forward just minutely.

The moment was shattered abruptly when Tristan nudged her lightly off of him, chuckling, "Geez Gilmore, lose some weight."

Blinking quickly to clear her muddled thoughts, the girl swallowed back the silly disappointment riding its way up her throat as she fell back into her cross legged position a noticeable few inches further from Tristan than she had originally been sitting.

This was Bible Boy… This was _Bible Boy_… It was ludicrous to think she wanted to kiss him of all people!

At the same time she wondered insecurely if he had broken the spell on purpose. He was experienced enough to be able to recognize moments like that… and he hadn't acted even though he had made it no secret that he had been attracted to her from the moment the two met. A small voice inside the girl questioned if the attraction had died once he knew her better. The rational voice argued that the girl was being overly analytical…he probably hadn't noticed what she had almost done.

When she was once again ready to leave, the boy leaned in to kiss her cheek affectionately. Determined to find out if the insecure voice was right or if the rational one was, Rory sucked in a breath and turned her face at the last moment. His lips brushed the edge of her mouth for a fraction of a second before he leaned back in surprise.

"Sorry. Was aiming for the cheek, my bad." He smiled.

She had her answer. She knew there was no way he hadn't realized that it wasn't his error that caused his lips to land on her mouth. Understanding and hurt coated over her as Rory understood that his response was a way of letting her down gently, without embarrassing her. He was pretending she hadn't moved in order to preserve their friendship and spare her an outright rejection.

"Why?" Rory wasn't going to let it die.

He met her eyes and knew that denying comprehension would only piss her off.

"I-" What could he say? "It's…just… no."

"No?" She arched her eyebrows.

"I can't." The words were forced out and he wished he could regret them when he saw in her eyes how much they stung.

"Right. Goodnight."

"Rory, wait…you're coming back right?" Oh God, tell him she was coming back.

"Can't leave you to get attacked by nurses keen on sponge bathing you." She tried to smile.

"I'm really glad we're friends," he called as she tried to go for the door.

"Friends." She wanted to laugh, or maybe cry, but she put all her effort into not reacting. She understood.

xXx

_I call you and you call me  
It's funny how we get on so easily  
We're just friends aren't we?  
You've got yours, I've got mine_  
**And friends are all we ever could be**

But we're getting to know each other  
A little too well...

**-rivera ariel**

* * *

**AN:** Okay, so it's entirely unexcusable that it took me almost three months to have this up. Especially since it took me all of an hour or two to write. My life's just been really weird lately and I can't honestly say whether I mean that in a good or bad way. But it's up, at long, long last and I can **promise** a new Dark Blue chapter in a few days. And as always, thank you all so much for the reviews, they guilted me through out the entire delay in updating :). 

And I feel like the biggest douche who ever douched because some wonderful people informed me ages ago that He Lied was a mod's pick for featured story and Dark Blue was nominated for a reader's choice on a fanfiction forum and I can't for the life of me find the email/link to that site, nor can I find the users who were so kind as to do that for me. I honestly scoured my email looking for it but it was back in September- yet another reason why I shouldn't take so long to update :P So I apologize for my crap memory, but I really wanted to thank people for voting/nominating/etc.


	6. Letting Go To Hold On

_Just remember, when you should grab something, grab it; when you should let go, let go._

_--Tao_

The girl understood at last that she couldn't grab on if she was still holding on to something else. It belonged in another stage of her life that had ended the day she broke Paris's finger, if she was to be perfectly honest. Everything changed. She was almost ready to acknowledge that change, to chase it to the full extent of what that change really meant…but first, she had something to do. Cutting away the ties to that old her, that old phase, would pain her but she knew that holding on for any longer was only going to hurt her more. She had already been holding on too long. That stage had ended months ago.

* * *

Rory Gilmore doesn't just give up on things without a legitimate, solidified reason. 

She wasn't going to be one of those insecure girls who went in circles fretting over how unattractive or stupid or boring they must be because Boy X didn't like her.

She wasn't even set on his not liking her… The girl wasn't conceited, but Tristan DuGrey had pursued her for over a year. She couldn't accept that he had absolutely no interest now. And if he had lost all interest, she was determined to know why.

In all her determined contemplation, it became rather clear to those around her that she was distracted. It became especially clear to a certain boyfriend of hers in whom she had been accidentally ignoring the past few weeks.

She hadn't been avoiding Dean. Really, she hadn't. It's just that with all the time she spent in Hartford, she wasn't home all that much to begin with. When she was, well obviously her mother had first priority. And then the best friend simply outranks the boyfriend, so she had to allot time for Lane. There was also the sad fact that while she did insist on doing school work at the hospital, Tristan was an attention whore and she still had to do a hefty bit of homework at home. It really hadn't been her conscious choice to block out Dean.

Their relationship had been hitting choppy waters before her friendship with Tristan had even started, what with Jess coming into the picture and all. But now that she was gone half the time, things became much worse with the two of them.

Anytime they were together, she would just want… more. He was sweet, and he could be funny, but she just didn't feel the easy companionable connection with him that enabled her to talk on end for hours. It was getting to the point where she spent more time with Jess than she did Dean. He was literate and dry and it was refreshing… and it vaguely rang familiar to her rapport with Tristan.

Things were bound to come to a fiery bang sooner or later. Rory's fresh bout of distress over the situation with Tristan finally lit the match.

She hadn't meant to ignore him at first. Unfortunately, it was an afterthought to her as she was driving home that she was wondering why Tristan didn't kiss her when she still had a very loyal, very kissable boyfriend in Stars Hollow.

The guilt hit her hard when Dean finally snapped. The two had been on a date, their first in a while, and Rory hadn't been able to get out of it. It was more than an hour since the two met up and he was getting very annoyed.

"You're not listening. You haven't been listening. God, Rory, even when you're here you're not." He had said tersely, jaw clenched.

"Sorry," she had answered, absently as usual. She hadn't really heard him.

"Do you even care about us anymore?" He gripped her shoulders and shook her slightly, trying desperately to make her focus on him.

"Dean-"

"Your grandparents don't need you. You see them so damn much now, and I get that they're your family and I get that you had next to no contact with them growing up, but I need you too. You don't need to be in Hartford so much, do you? I know you feel obligated, but-"

Her conscience attacked her and finally Rory dissolved the lie that her boyfriend had believed all this time. "Dean… I don't feel obligated. You're right, I don't need to see my grandparents that often." She had to look away from him because his face suddenly lit up with hope and it made her stomach squirm. "And I've always known that because it's not them I've been visiting in Hartford."

"What?"

"Tristan DuGrey has been-"

"Please, _please_ tell me that I'm remembering wrong and that Tristan DuGrey isn't the pretentious blond _jack ass_ with dollar bills stuck up his ass who threatened me at your school dance, who provoked me when playing Romeo to your Juliet." Dean shut his eyes.

"He's really not like that- once you get to know him-"

"Get to know him?" Dean laughed hollowly. "You said you hated him."

"I didn't mean that, but Dean please nothing ever happened with him, we're just friends-"

"Friends. Like you and Jess are _friends_?"

"It figures that you'd bring him into this! What does Jess have to do with anything?"

"Nothing. I'm curious though, do they know about each other? Am I just the stupid one you keep around so you can feel honourable or whatever, I'm the normal relationship, in all my loyal Boy Scout glory that you can parade around in public like a decent good girl, while you secretly hook up with the rebelling ass heads at night?"

"I don't hook up with anybody, and I can't even begin to tell you how insulted I am that you'd-"

"What can I say, you're by yourself unchaperoned in another city half the time with a manwhore and you spend a lot of the other half of your time with the town skeeze. What am I supposed to think?"

"How can you even think that I would do that? Don't you even remember who I am?"

"I remember a girl who would never have lied to me for months about spending good ol' family time with their grandparents when they've really been with another guy!"

"In a HOSPITAL you idiot! He's sick!"

"Is that a codeword? Or do you have some new fetish I'm just hearing about?"

"Now you're being cruel. Irrational I could maybe understand but you've passed that. You're not being fair. I shouldn't have lied, but I only did it because I know you hate him. Nothing happened! I've never cheated on you."

"Maybe your definition of cheating is broader than mine."

"Only if yours restricts conversation, hugging, and not to mention the lack of ADULT SUPERVISION! I'm not five years old and I'm not on a leash and I can be friends with BOYS if I want to, it doesn't make me a cheating slut!"

"I didn't mean to call you a-" Dean looked startled as he tried to backpedal.

"Well, you did. What else could you be implying by accusing me of hooking up often with two guys at once behind your back?"

"You're mad at me? When I'm the one who's been lied to?"

"You implied I'm a big easy slut, insulted two of my best friends heavily, and spoke as though I'm a kid, I think I have a right to be upset."

"Yeah? Well are you actually going to stand there and say that you've never done anything with Jess or Dean-"

"YES!"

"- and you don't want to?"

The beat of hesitance that passed over her spurred his anger.

"I never thought you wanted to go further… and I was okay with that. But now I realize it wasn't that it was too soon, it was just that you don't want to be with me at all. Hell, if I were one of the other guys you prefer over me, you'd probably have-"

"Don't finish that sentence if you want to keep our relationship at all." Her voice had gone cold.

"I-"

"You know what? Never mind. I don't care what you have to say anymore about anything. You don't even have to finish that sentence, our relationship has been dying for a long time now. We're through, Dean."

Even though he must have seen it coming, Dean still crumpled with hurt and Rory instantly wanted to reach out to him and fix it.

"Rory, you never did love me, did you?"

"Of course I did-"

"I knew it, though… I think a part of me always did. You were like this perfect, I don't know, princess or something and I was stupidly lucky to have you at all. But I never was good enough, was I? Never smart enough, not into your movies or your music, never had the cash to go to your private school… and I was never hesitant in showing you just how much I liked you. They're asses, Rory. And that's not just spite speaking. They're jerks who treat you like crap and act like they either see you as meat or as insignificant. Is that what it takes to pique your interest? Did I have to ignore you?"

Oh, that was definitely guilt. "Dean, you're enough. You always were. And you don't see them like I do, you don't know anything about my friendship with them. But it really is just friendship."

"For how long, huh?"

When she couldn't answer, he smiled humourlessly, "Just don't let me know, okay? Don't tell me. Don't…flaunt it."

She was crying and had been for sometime now. She never meant to hurt him. He was her Dean…

Her mother found her on the couch, staring at a television set that was turned off.

"…Hon?"

"We broke up."

"You and Dean?"

"For good this time."

"Can I get you anything?" Lorelai asked softly.

"I need to see Tristan. I- he's-"

"Rory, no-"

"He's my best friend next to Lane now, mom. I- I have to. I can't- this isn't… I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Did you break up with Dean for-"

"I broke up with Dean because he didn't believe me when I said I wasn't sleeping with him." She cut her mother off, stiffly grabbed her coat, and disappeared through the door.

Lorelai stared after her, half inclined to make her daughter stay home, but knew that Rory had to go. Either Tristan would cheer her up…or he'd wake her up. She would come home smiling or in tears, but it had to be done. (Somewhere, she knew it would be tears. She knew. And she felt worse for the boy than she did for her daughter.) It had to be done.

* * *

**AN:** Not up in time to give as a christmas gift, but I can offer it up as one last update in 2007. Happy new years! And yes, there was a total lack of Tristan this chapter, but I do like Dean and I tend to short change him in my Trories that occur during the time Narco happened on the show canonically. So I felt I owed it to him...even if I did make him imply that Rory's a slut haha.

Mcurie, good eye! I did indeed change the dialogue a bit in the last chap. I realized (too late) that I couldn't make reference to Christmas when I had already stated in the first chapter that Christmas was a week from that first visit. Time issues :P. Which is a shame, really, because I was looking forward to showing Christmas. No bother, I'll fit in a flashback sometime haha.

Thank you all for the reviews, they spurred me into updating this year


	7. Honestly: He Lied

_Your enemies can't hurt you, but your friends will kill you. _

-Ann Richards

* * *

Somewhere buried beneath Rory's idealistic hopes, the girl wasn't nearly as naïve as she seemed to be, though the fact was well hidden even in herself. If she were to think about the situation honestly, she would have to admit that the idea of Tristan turning her down just because she had a boyfriend was a very stilted, weak excuse. Aside from the fact that he had never liked or respected Dean, Tristan just wasn't the type of person who would let the rules of society and behaviour dictate what he would or would not do. But this was her last hope. She had to believe he was doing this out of honour, or maybe out of a refusal to share her with any other guy. If she let go of this belief, she would have to accept that he didn't like her after all. Accepting that would wash her over with so much pain that she would be forced to admit just how far into her heart she had let him enter. If she admitted that, she would have to see that the very thing she avoided him for back when they first met had finally come to pass- the knowledge that he would break her heart. 

Ignoring all the pessimism (realism, really, if she was honest with herself but she couldn't be, she couldn't), Rory pulled her car violently into park against the curb adjacent to the side of the hospital. It was her own parking space- Tristan had it specially reserved for her after it became clear that her visits weren't ending.

Tears from earlier still left streak marks over her cheeks as she sprinted into the building.

"Hi." She greeted him as she entered his room.

He looked up smiling, but it faded as he took in her tear stained face. "Rory, what-"

"I broke up with Dean."

He blinked, surprised. It only took him a moment to rearrange his face into one of casual pleasure. "That's great. It's about time you ended things. Now, your stupid triangle has officially ended and you're free to go after Jess."

Heart hammering, Rory said, "What if I don't want Jess?"

"Rory, he's the best guy for you out of anyone." He had taken to flipping through a magazine, indifference covering his form. Internally, he just needed any excuse not to meet her eyes. "Well, Johnny Depp not-withstanding. But Jess is the best guy out there for you that's possible."

_You and me are not possible._ Rory heard the meaning behind the words. It felt like someone was choking her heart.

She should leave it. She should drop it all and just go home. She should run away. Now. Now. Now!

She would not want to hear anything else he had to say. It could only make it all worse.

Despite that, Rory couldn't make her legs move, nor could she hide the absolute disappointment in her face.

He watched the light leave her face and felt the taste of self-loathing in his mouth. He didn't know what to do. He had thought that sheltering her from everything would save her from pain but she looked so hurt right now.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Fear, indecision, self-preservation all demanded that she force a smile and then make an excuse to leave. Rationality bid her to keep what she was feeling to herself.

But the part of her that trusted Tristan implicitly, the part of her that had propelled her into visiting the boy to begin with, that had lied to her boyfriend about her whereabouts, that had opened herself to him… that part wouldn't let her walk away.

Honesty. It was all she had ever given him. "No." She shook her head. "Why is the possibility of a relationship between the two of us not possible?"

Lies. It was the only gift he could offer. "You're wonderful," He started, trying valiantly to make the words ring true. "And I can't tell you how much I love being with you." Looking at her was so difficult but she would never buy it if he didn't. "But I don't see you like that." The killing stroke. "You're a great friend and that's all we could ever be."

"Remember when every second thing you said to me was an innuendo? Remember how basically the whole first half of our acquaintance was spent with me beating down your attempts to hook up with me, date me?" She was angry. "Did that all just die the moment you got to know me? My personality dissuaded you from wanting anything from me?"

"Getting to know you made me respect you- it didn't-"

"I knew you would do this!" Her traitorous voice cracked. "I was stupid enough to let you in, to care… God, I actually thought this meant something to you!"

"It does!" His eyes widened. "You're the only reason I bother waking up anymore, Rory-"

"'Just friends'." She snorted. "When have you ever been just friends with a girl?" She walked to his bedside furiously. "When?" She jabbed her finger into his chest. "Never, right? Because you don't do just friends!" Eyes watering, "After everything we've been through, don't you think you owe me more than giving me a line? I'm not Paris. You don't get to tell me we're just friends. Tell me the truth- maybe you don't think I'm pretty anymore, or maybe you're boinking one of the nurses; maybe you think I'm pathetic or boring or socially retarded. I want to know!"

Grabbing her flailing wrists, Tristan blurted tensely, "I'm sick, okay? _I'm sick_. That's why."

"You're in a hospital, of course you're-"

"No. I'm sicker than I let on. A lot sicker than I let on." A muscle in his jaw twitched as he stared hard at the wall. "I won't be going home in a day, a week, a month. I'm really, really sick, Rory."

She stared at him for a moment, trying to find something to say to that. The doctor walked in, interrupting the moment. He had to tell Tristan something and so asked the girl to leave.

They looked at each other for a moment before Tristan looked at the doctor and Rory walked out the door.

xXx

Rory didn't go home. She couldn't go home. The way that last encounter ended was so anti-climatic that the emotions the girl had been feeling hadn't dissipated. She had walked all the way back to her car, even starting the car up, before she realized she couldn't leave. Sitting in her car with its frosted-over windows engulfed by the echoing silence of the parking lot, she couldn't bring herself to drive away.

She stared vacantly out her front windshield for a good five minutes before turning the car off, slamming the door shut, and marching right back up to Tristan's room. Of course, once there, she abruptly turned around and started pacing.

Fretting wordlessly as she walked, the hospital smell prominent in the hallways, she allowed the multitude of thoughts in her mind to overflow as she analyzed each one.

Finally, not being able to hold back anymore, Rory barged back into his room.

It was a lonely sight; the boy was leaning against his pillow staring at nothing. The TV was off, there was no literature in his hands; the room was quiet and sad. Rory didn't notice any of this, of course. She was too busy compiling what she was going to say.

"I don't care." She blurted loudly.

He frowned, confused.

"Well, no, no I didn't mean that. Of course I care… it's just that, I get what you're doing. You don't want to make me wait for you to get out, to stick it out through your illness. You think you'll be a big burden and it'll be unfair to me and you don't want to put me through that." She rambled, her brow furrowed in thought. "But I'll wait. I'll be there for you. With you. I'll don't care if it's three months or three years, I'll be here. It's okay. I want to be with you Tristan, even if you're sick, even if I have to wait."

He looked so, so sad. He tried very hard to cover his face with a mask of soft indifference but the sheer amount of effort it took to do that pained him.

Shutting his eyes tightly, he tried to decide what to do. A voice shouted at him, reprimanded him, screeched at him that he had waited so damn long already and she was invested now and it was all his fault. It yelled at him that she cared now. She cared so much and she shouldn't have cared; he should have pushed her away the first time she ever came to his room. He should have prevented this. He should never have let her get close. He should have told her from the very beginning so she would have distanced herself immediately, getting colder and away not warm and close and oh-so-attached.

The other voice whispered, begged, urgently persuaded that what was done was done and yeah he should have said something earlier but it was too late for that now. It was too late and if he told her he'd just hurt them both. He shouldn't tell her; he should lie, he had been doing it for so long already what could it hurt? He'd spare her, he'd lie, he'd make up an offensive excuse; tell her that he thought she was pathetic and stupid and groupie-like and he didn't ever want to date her. She'd run away and never come back and never have to know. She would never have to know. She would hate him, loathe him, despise him; she would move on, she would forget and if she ever thought to remember again, if she ever thought to ask there would be no one left to answer her questions. She would never find him and the questions would fade, she would forget again, she would think he just moved on, she would assume, she would be spared.

He would hurt her either way. He had lied so, so much. Did he not owe her the truth?

It would hurt him to tell her. But perhaps she would still…she was Rory. She would still care, she would cry and it would hurt but she would come back. And then maybe, just maybe, he could at last be comforted. He had long accepted his prognosis, but he had so much time for it to sink in. He was no longer angry, no longer hateful or in denial or clinging to any delusions of hope or recovery. But she would. She would cling. She would be angry. She would not be able to accept it. And then he would have to face again the pain of how it felt when the news was fresh. He didn't want to tell another person ever again.

He owed it to her.

"That isn't the reason why I can't be with you." His voice sounded dry, it was almost a croak. No. He would not tell her in this dry heave of a tone. Swallowing tightly, clearing his throat, he beckoned her closer.

She was looking at him with something in her eye he didn't quite know how to place. Was it fear? Was it confusion? Was it hope or pain or knowledge or innocence?

Walking up to his bed now, he opened his mouth to say the words long avoided. Before he could get them out, she had flung her arms around his neck in a gigantic embrace. "I'll wait."

"No, Rory. The length of time would be-"

Her eyes were watering, his eyes were watering. Swimming blue eyes met swimming blue eyes. She cut him off with a desperate kiss; her lips open and wet and needy. He let her. He didn't pull away. His lips were chapped but they responded eagerly. He hugged her to him as their tongues attacked each other as tears slid down their cheeks and melded as one.

"I'll wait." She whispered when at last they were forced apart. She cut off his words a second time by pulling his face to her and crushing their lips together again. She bit his lip; their noses rubbed together, her hands stroking his jaw and he moaned audibly- a sound of anguish and pleasure and yearning.

He forgot himself as he kissed her gently and warmly and sweetly; as he kissed her fiercely and roughly and sloppily.

And he remembered as he always did. Guilt smacked into him forcefully and he ripped himself from the girl. "I shouldn't have- I should have stopped you. That should never have happened."

"Why?" She asked, hurt.

"You have no idea how much I've been holding myself back from doing that weeks ago, months ago," He shook his head, frustration escaping out of his very pores.

"Tristan-"

"You can't wait for me." Jaw clenched, he wanted to look at the wall. He knew he wouldn't be able to take seeing her face when he said what he had to say. But he had to look at her, had to had to had to. He couldn't do it. He should lie. Too late for that, Dugrey. "Really, really sick was a euphemism, Ror." A smile formed on his lips, completely inappropriate of course, but he was okay with his fate now and he wanted her to know that. "I'm dying."

"That's not funny." She glared instantly.

No, no no no no no. This was the worst kind of reaction. He hated this kind of reaction. The denial. It wasted time, it cut into him, it made it that much harder. The smile died. A sheen of anger appeared in his voice. "It's not supposed to be."

"If you don't want to be with me, you should have just-"

"Remember when I told you the doctors said I had maybe six months left to live way back when we first ran into each other at the vending machines?" He interrupted her. "You thought I was joking. You assumed. But I had told you the truth at the very beginning, you just didn't believe me."

"No. You're lying." Her face was crumpling, she was crying.

Softening, Tristan cupped her face and smoothed away a tear drop. "I'm sorry. I never should have let you get this close. It was selfish."

"You're lying, you're not telling the truth, you're sick! You're disgusting, you're rude, you're hurtful; you're lying!"

He started to take her hand but she withdrew her hand as though repulsed. Standing up, backing away, shaking her head, she looked at him as she would a stranger…or worse, an enemy.

"Mary…" Tristan's voice broke as his last strip of vulnerability was revealed and he was naked and exposed as he began crying. Oh God, oh God he hated himself for breaking down but he _needed her._ He needed her, he wanted her; her comfort, her laughter, her warmth, her caring, her words. She was his best friend, his almost-lover; oh God oh God he wanted to rip out his tear ducts but she had to understand. She was Rory Gilmore and she cared and she had seen him now at his most honest.

But she didn't go to him, she didn't comfort him. She repeated a refrain of you're lying and with one last look of anger, she ran from the room.

Alone, Tristan let his outstretched hand fall back into his lap. The silence swallowed him once more as his shoulder shook with sobs he hated to let out. Crying, vulnerable, completely alone.

He was so, so sad.

* * *

**AN: **Thank you all for reviewing :). 


	8. Denial: He Lied

Never say what you mean; all I hear is a scream. _Never say that to me_

* * *

Rory couldn't breathe; Rory couldn't think; Rory couldn't speak.

It was a miracle she managed to get home without veering into a pole or rear-ending someone. Her vision had been constantly flooded with tears and her mind repeating a frantic refrain of _liarliarliarliarliar_.

She sat in front of her house for half an hour, trying vainly to pull herself together. Batting at her eyes, she impatiently willed her tears to run dry. She kept her mind occupied by thinking about her homework assignments, thinking about Lane and her drumming, Luke and Jess… the bird crap on the window. Anything, anything, anything but him. Anything, anything, anything…

He lied, he lied, he lied, he lied, he lied

He's fine. He's fine. He's fine.

Why?

Rory's brain was whirring in its speedy attempt to explain everything away. To get in her pants? To be cruel? To be the same ass he was the day they met.

When she finally walked into the house, her mother was at the kitchen table waiting. Lorelai stood up when she saw her daughter; noticed how tense the girl was holding herself, saw the way her nails dug into her palm. "Rory…"

"I'm sorry I took so long." Rory smiled forcibly. Must be casual. Nothing is wrong. Nothing, nothing, nothing. "Tris-Tristan was being stupid."

"Rory."

"And there's bird droppings on the car. It's kind of distracting. And disgusting."

"Rory."

"And Jess wrote all over the ledgers of the book I lent him, he's such a jerk."

"What happened?" Lorelai gripped Rory's shoulders, meeting her eyes to force out the cloud of false cheer.

"Nothing, it's nothing." Rory shook her head, laughing nervously. She wriggled out of her mother's grasp and poured herself some coffee. "He just made some… he told me he was…"

Swallowing the overwhelming nausea riding up her throat, Rory clenched her teeth and made sure her back was to her mother as she fiddled with the coffee mug. "He just said that he's…he was…"

Staring at the counter top and chastising herself for stuttering so much, Rory finally forced the words out. "He told me he's dying." There was a terrible silence for a moment of excruciating pain before Rory forced out more babble. "I mean, clearly everyone's dying because no one lives forever; you're dying the moment you're born. But he…he didn't mean it like that. He said he was going to, soon."

Lorelai reached out for her daughter's hand but Rory shook her head again, a hysterical grin on her face. "What an ass, right? I mean, clearly he's lying just to mess with me. We joke around all the time. But he's gone too far this time. He must be a really sick person to be that cruel, that-" Her hands were gesturing and the coffee cup tipped, spilling the hot liquid across the floor. "-Damn it, I'm so clumsy today. I'm sorry. I'll just clean it up-"

"Rory," Lorelai's eyes were swimming with compassion, "Slow down, hon. Sit down. Leave the coffee."

"What? No, no I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be? I told you, he's lying. There's no way." She fished out a dish towel and mopped up the mess.

Without giving time for her mother to so much as hug her, she had puttered back to her room- ("it's late, good night mom').

Curling up on her bed, there was no room for any other thought except for the two words that kept her from shattering. It was mantra now, and she clung to it- he lied, he lied, he lied, he lied.

Unbeknownst to her mother, Rory skipped first period the next day in favour of the hospital. Silently walking into Tristan's room, she slipped herself beside her favourite blond in his bed. Surprised, Tristan wrapped his arms around her instinctively. "You're skipping school."

"I don't care."

"Rory, you don't skip class."

"Tell me you were lying." She pleaded quietly.

"Ror-"

"Please. Just tell me the truth. Please."

He knew what she wanted to hear, what she needed to hear. But he couldn't lie to her anymore. At the same time, repeating his condition would drive her away, and he couldn't bear that. "Okay," he whispered, nestling his chin against Rory's shoulder as his arms tightened around her small form. "The truth is, you were absolutely right about me when we first met. That first day, I honestly just wanted to bang you against those lockers and then spend the rest of the year bragging about how I tainted you without even knowing your name.

"The truth is, I felt ashamed when your innocent gratefulness at being offered notes turned to revulsion when you realized I was hitting on you.

"It stopped being about making you a Magdalene a long, long time ago. When I kissed you at that party… it meant something to me. And when you told me it was just a mistake you wished never happened, it stung a whole hell of a lot.

"Truth is, you made me feel like I was something dirty. Like it was laughable that someone like you would ever want to be with me. You made me want to be better. So I honestly tried."

"That wasn't it." Rory answered, startled. She turned around to face him; her face an inch from his; Tristan's arms holding her as tightly as ever. "I didn't think you weren't good enough for me. I just didn't ever believe that a guy like you could ever be sincerely interested in a girl like me."

"You're the single most amazing person I've ever known- why wouldn't I be interested?"

She was crying again now and it hurt him to see that. "Oh, Ror…please don't cry." He smoothed away the tears and kissed her forehead.

"Please, Tristan. Tell me you lied. Tell me you're fine."

"I can't. Rory, I don't have much time. But you're here, and right now, that's all that matters."

"Tell me you're fine."

"I'm not."

Rory choked back a sob and roughly pushed away from the boy. She stumbled off the bed and made a dash for the door.

Tristan couldn't let her go like that. Unsteadily standing up, he chased after her- almost falling in the process. He caught her wrist and pulled her back into the room. "Don't run away, please."

She stared at him and in an instant everything she had ignored or denied dissipated. He had gotten so, so thin. How could she not have noticed? The hospital gown hung off him, his bones were sickly protrusive. His wrists were almost as thin as hers were. The colour of his skin was so pale; the dark circles under his eyes haunting. She had been so stupidly blind.

And self-conservation cloaked her back in her cocoon of denial almost instantaneously. The body folds itself over with numbness to shield itself from overwhelming physical pain and so her mental defenses went up to safeguard her heart in the very same way. _He lied, he's fine, he lied, he's fine._

"Tristan, I'm begging you. Tell me you're fine." She sounded like a little girl and Tristan hated himself for not being able to do exactly as she wished.

She could tell from his expression that he wouldn't be doing what she asked. Before he could say anything, she had shut her eyes again and fled.

xXx

Lorelai had been suspicious of Tristan's extended hospital stay from the moment she found out about it. As time went on, it became clearer and clearer to her that that boy wasn't being truthful about his condition. It scared her. Yes, she was rather fond of the boy, but it was much more than that. She knew how completely connected Rory had become.

What was she supposed to do? She didn't know, but what she does know is that she acted wrong.

Rory was an overly exuberant mannequin now. She was always smiling anytime she found Lorelai watching her.

"_So, are you going to visit Tristan after school?"_

"_Oh, no. He's such a jerk for trying to mess with my head. I'm not seeing him for a while."_

"_Rory, don't you-"_

"_Gotta go to school!"_

The false happiness lasted about a week before the façade exhausted her. An uncontrollable fury took over as Rory convinced herself that it hadn't been just a playful jibe, it was a malicious mind game.

"_Let's swing by the hospital before we see your grandparents, okay?"_

"_No- he's devil spawn, mom. He lied to me. About something he knew would really hurt me. I never want to speak to him again."_

"_You need to talk to him about this."_

"_I just want to see Grandma and grandpa, okay?"_

Lorelai gave the girl space to deal but after two solid weeks of absolute denial, she had to intervene. Any time she tried to talk to her about it, the girl would run away. When she stopped her, she would put up a front. It was unshakeable.

So closing her eyes tightly one gorgeous Tuesday morning, Lorelai exhaled before walking into the room she had never walked into by herself.

"Hey, kid. How are ya?" She smiled.

Tristan's head whipped up at the sound of her voice; he had stopped expecting Rory to come and she had been essentially his only visitor aside from the weekly visits from his parents. It had become just too painful for them. Well, for his father at least. His mother was keeping herself buried in work, pretending that all was well and absolutely distancing herself from her son. Not that the two had been anything near close when he was healthy.

The dreary desolation melted from his face as he recognized who it was; his face breaking into a genuinely happy smile.

"Lorelai!" He had stopped calling her Mrs. Gilmore when she took to whipping out a picture of her mother and talking behind it in a classic Emily Gilmore voice every time he did.

She walked to his bed and warmly took his hands, which he squeezed affectionately. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"My daughter hasn't been in here for a while, as you obviously know."

His eyes darkened in pain and he bent his head down to cover it with a smile. "Yeah, guess my overpowering awesomeness was intimidating her."

"How have you been these last two weeks?"

"Oh, you know. Your daughter's pretty amazing but it's not like she's my only visitor or anything."

"Tristan."

"Okay, I miss her like hell. We ended things off really badly last time she was here."

"I know you were sugarcoating how ill you've been." Lorelai gently said, still holding onto his hand.

He didn't look too surprised. "Don't feel too sorry for me now. I've accepted this. I'm okay with it, really." At the hesitant question in her eyes, Tristan swallowed and looked away before he could answer. "Yeah, I'm not going to get better."

"How…how long?"

"Clock's ticking." Tristan shrugged. Shaking away her worry for him, he asked, "And…how's Rory? How has she been dealing with…well, this?" His eyes found hers again, a mixture of pain and fierce concern.

"I won't lie to you, she's not so good. She hasn't been dealing with anything."

He shut his eyes tightly. "Damn it."

"I'll talk to her. She'll come around. She cares about you a lot, kid."

"Could you give this to her?" He handed her a small piece of paper.

"She'll come in to see you before long, Tristan."

"Yeah." He didn't sound convinced.

"You could always call her?"

"I haven't used my cell phone since I left school. Too many idiots asking me about trivial crap."

"She'll come in soon." Lorelai repeated again reassuringly. She took the note anyways.

xXx

The next day, Tristan woke up to find a neatly wrapped box on the chair beside his bed. It was a brand new cell phone with three pre-entered numbers in the contact list. Rory, Lorelai, and Gilmore House. He already had a voicemail.

"_Bible Boy, I don't know how you lived without a phone all these months. Think of this as a thank-you for that Starbucks cart of free coffee you had put in for me. I didn't want to wake you, and this is so much cooler than leaving a note, dontcha think? Call Rory, kid. You know you want to, and we both know she wants you to. Lots of love, Lorelai._ (Click)_" June 15_

Tristan smiled. He really liked that woman.

xXx

**Voicemails (skipped)**

"Hey, Ror. It's me. Your mom gave me your number. I feel weird calling you because obviously you'd just come in to see me if you wanted to talk. But Lorelai thought I should do it, and who am I to question her, right? Um, so, you know how I feel about you and how I feel about well, everything. So…bye, I guess. (Click)" _June 15_

"Hi, Rory. This is Tristan. Maybe you didn't recognize my phone voice because, well, we've never spoken on the phone before. I know I just called you yesterday, but you know me- I'm easily bored. Not that I'm only calling you because I'm bored. So yeah, this is Tristan. You have my number on your call history. (Click)" _June 16_

"Hey, it's Tristan again. I just realized that maybe you felt weird about calling me back and I wanted you to know that you shouldn't at all. I know you may not want to see me again so soon, but if you're not ready to come back to the hospital, I wanted you to know that I'd still love to hear from you in any form, so feel free to call me. At any time. My phone's always on, so if you just have a random urge to talk to me at 3AM, I'll pick up, okay? (Click)" _June 18_

"So I'm calling again to tell you that I don't want to pressure you into coming back or in calling me back if you don't want to. I'm not any one's charity case and I sure as hell don't want you paying attention to me out of pity. So yeah. (Click)" _June 21_

"Mary…I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts to breathe. (Click)" _June 30_

_(__Can you take this broken boy? And put the pieces back as one?)_

xXx

"Rory. You have to come to terms with this. It's only going to hurt you more in the long run if you keep doing this to yourself." Lorelai said to Rory's door. Rory had taken to avoiding her mother at all costs.

Rory was on her bed, highlighting her notes in preparation for end of year exams. Her mind was focused entirely on the work in front of her except for the tiny part that kept drawing her eyes to the little folded piece of paper on her night stand. Her mother had given it to her two weeks ago and she hadn't even dared to unfold it yet. It's from Tristan, Lorelai had said softly.

Her fingers found the paper. She ached to know what it said, ached to know what Tristan had to say to her. It was very small so it couldn't be too much. The possibilities of it frightened her too much and she quickly put it back down.

Beside the piece of paper, her cell phone vibrated in a circle on the night stand. She cautiously leaned in to read the screen. She recognized the number immediately, though she had not entered the number into her phone. Shutting her eyes tightly to block out threatening tears, she spun back to face her notebook and whispered to herself, "He lied, he lied, he lied."

_(Can you take this lonely girl? 'cause theres no pride to be found)_

It was sacred but faded into nothing

Relied on me to say it all  
**Denial has left you all alone**

* * *

**AN: **I am so sorry that I rarely update this fic, it's just that it is one of the more angst-filled stories I have and though I love it, it affects me deeply (which is why I'm really glad to see that you guys feel the same way about it). Believe me, making Tristan lying dying in a hospital breaks my heart just as much it breaks yours. Thank you all so very much for the input, keep it coming- what writer doesn't adore reviews? :)

And Nemo, a euphemism is essentially the term used for describing when someone sugarcoats something- it's a nicer, less harsh, more politically correct way to say something.


	9. Catatonia

_Where did you run to, while I held my breath?_

* * *

It had been two weeks since Rory had sat hunched in her room, high lighting notes like her life depended on it. Her last exam was over a week ago. School was out for the summer, exams graded, report cards distributed. Her last distraction was taken from her and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore her shaking hands.

She had marched to the library and taken enough books out to make her arms hurt when she carried them home but she couldn't read, couldn't focus on the words. She had dragged Lane with her to purchase enough do-it-yourself projects to last someone three summers- all the boxes were open but all were forgotten on the floor. She couldn't focus, couldn't focus.

Nothing could fill up her time now, her concentration had broken. Rory had waged a war against her emotions, against her rationality, but the siege was coming to an end and she could not contain her thoughts. With quickening frequency, her mind would wash over thoughts that she had previously managed to avoid at all costs.

Her phone had not received any more messages from that painfully familiar number in two weeks. She still had not heard any of the voice mails but the fact that there were no new ones sent her into a mild hysteria when she thought about it. Fear encased her as a trembling voice asked her if the reason no new ones were sent was because **it** had happened.

No, no, no… he had more time than that. Much more time than that. She was being foolish, of course he was likely just mad at her for not answering…

But oh God, how much time did he have, really? It had been a few months since he had "joked" that he had six months left to live. No, that was an arbitrary number, wasn't it? He didn't honestly mean that he had six months left to…

How could she even be thinking about this in terms so calm, so concise? He was in that hospital room for who knows how much longer and she was sitting here, idly wondering just how much time he had. How cold could she be?

He was dying, he was dying.

We're all dying, we're all…

She couldn't think about it, she had to run away from it, she couldn't face it- she couldn't hide in books, no it was too late for that. False cheer would do nothing for her now, she had no energy left to pretend like she was fine. All her energy had to go towards not curling into a ball and breaking down.

He was dying. He was sick.

Tristan. Was. Dying.

The words penetrated past her numbed barriers and broke something inside her. Rory's defense mechanism shifted in a scrambled rush to heal this emotional injury but all that could be managed was an act of true desperation.

She shut down.

Falling against the door with her knees to her chest, Rory fell away from everything around her.

xXx

It was Christmas Eve. Rory had a fruit cake in her hands and a reluctance in her throat that was becoming steadily smaller as she stepped into Bible Boy's hospital room.

It was about a week and a half since she first saw him in his room, and her fourth visit in total.

"Hey," Tristan smiled as he saw the girl enter.

"Hi. Judging from the fact that I have yet to see either of your parents in here, I didn't know whether or not they'd be with you today or tomorrow."

"My dad's coming by tomorrow for a little while."

"Oh, well, Christmas eve is just as important as Christmas day, you know. And no one should have to spend it alone, even if they _are_ big headed jerks." Rory said, smirking as she said her last sentence.

"You're just bursting with the Christmas spirit." Tristan rolled his eyes, though his eyes were grateful. "What's that you're carrying?"

"I brought you fruit cake."

He looked at her suspiciously. "Isn't that what people give as gifts to people they don't like but are obligated to give something to?"

"No, you're thinking of the stale ugh stuff. This is good fruit cake." She unwrapped it for him and offered him a chunk.

He eyed it cautiously for a moment.

Rory laughed, "Tristan, I'm not trying to poison you or anything."

Cocking his head to the side, he grinned hopefully, "You know, you could just let me cop a feel under your shirt and we could call that my Christmas present."

"Just eat the fruit cake, Tristan."

"It was worth a try." He shrugged with amusement, popping the piece of cake she had given him into his mouth.

xXx

It was two days after Valentine's Day and Rory flew into Tristan's room with all the grace of a duck out of water.

"What's got you all in a tizzy?" Tristan asked, putting away the book he had been reading.

"There are two crying nurses, three pissed off looking doctors, and a variety of disgruntled patients out there. I have no idea why everyone here is so rawr, but it's kind of scary." Rory answered, out of breath.

"Valentine's Day in a hospital is apparently rather eventful." He chuckled. "Speaking of, tell me, what swag did you get this year?"

"What?"

"You have a boyfriend and the "most romantic day of the year" just passed." His tone was mocking. "So what'd you get? A promise ring, perhaps? Some chocolate? A shiny necklace, a night on the town?"

"Oh. Um, well, Dean got me this bracelet." She was blushing as she pushed her sleeve up to show him.

"That's actually pretty nice." Tristan raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Bag Boy can do some things right, apparently."

"Impressed?"

"Puh-lease, Rory. I've given a girl the whole bouquet of roses, flying doves, horse drawn carriage package before. No one will ever upstage the master. I just half-thought the dolt would've done something completely mentally deficient like forget about the day completely."

"It's not like I even care about Valentine's Day." Rory rolled her eyes. "It's a glorified consumerist Hallmark created holiday."

"Oh? Guess I'll just have to give this to some other girl who won't accuse me of being a Hallmark-following sheep then." He said innocently; his hands casually playing with a wrapped package she had failed to notice earlier.

"You got me something?"

"Well, I haven't gotten you anything yet and you'd make a much more amazing Valentine than the nurses, so…"

She was touched. "Tristan, that's really sweet."

"But I wouldn't want to be a consumerist whore, of course." He said, teasingly reaching for the drawer of his bedside table.

"Gimme!" She smirked.

"'Gimme gimme never gets, don't you-'"

Before he could finish, Rory had laughingly reached forward and taken the box out of his hands, falling on him in the process. "Now because you were being difficult, I'm gonna have to sit on you while I open this."

"Oh no, not that: I'll be suffocated by the weight!"

Rory whacked his chest before putting her attention to opening the present. He had given her a silver necklace with an angel pendant staring down a devil pendant.

Laughing in amusement, she looked up at him and snorted, "I suppose the angel's supposed to represent me and the devil you?" Fingering it lightly, she realized that upon closer inspection it really was a gorgeous necklace. The detailing on the pendants was careful and both the pendants and the chain shimmered in the light. "Tristan…this is beautiful."

"A beautiful necklace for a beautiful girl." He winked.

"I can't take this-"

"Ror, you can. You're pretty much my best friend in the world right now. I mean, you come down here every second or third day to hang with me in this sterile old room in a building full of smelly injured people. This is the least I could do."

"I come here because I want to, you don't have to-"

"I know, but maybe I want to give you something to remind you of me when you're not here. I should, after all, be on your mind 24/7 because I am made of so much awesome."

His response made her shake her head but she was still touched. She moved her hair back and started to put the gift on.

Honestly, the necklace was nicer than Rory could have realized. The chain was actually white-gold, the angel a four carat diamond and the devil made from ruby. He knew she never would have accepted it if he told her. She deserved nice things. Much nicer things than she thought she deserved.

Tristan automatically reached out to help her clasp it on. "So, you like it Mary?"

"It's thoughtful and really nice. I love it."

"Enough to let me get that copped feel you denied me for Christmas?"

He expected another whack on the arm but instead Rory kissed him on the cheek. "You don't have to make a joke out of every nice gesture, Tris."

xXx

"**Rory. Rory!" **

Rory was not entering any hospital room and she certainly didn't have a ridiculously good looking blonde smirking back at her. Blinking uncertainly, she realized she was on the floor in her room. Lorelai was the one that had been calling her name.

Looking around, she realized Luke, Lane, and Jess were all there.

When she looked at her mother again, she was shocked to see the woman break into tears. Holding her tightly, Lorelai whispered, "Thank God, thank God, thank God. You were zombie-like, just totally zoned out, I thought something really bad had happened…"

"I'm fine, mom."

Everyone looked incredibly worried.

"No you're not." Lorelai brushed the tears off her cheeks thoughtlessly, her attention set on her daughter and nothing else.

"Ror, you had us really freaked out." Lane said, crouching beside her nervously.

Luke said nothing, but colour was returning to his face in a way that had Rory thinking he had been on the verge of passing out.

"I'm fine." Rory repeated.

"You're not." Her mother said, firmer this time. "And it's time you faced this."

"What are you doing here?" She stared at Jess, confused.

Clearing his throat haltingly, Jesse stuffed his hands in his pocket and muttered that Lorelai had called Luke in a complete panic upon finding her door obscured and even more panicked when she climbed through the window and found Rory on the floor staring into space completely uncomprehendingly.

When he made to put his hands in his pocket, she noticed they were shaking.

"I didn't mean to scare you guys." Rory said quietly.

"I think we should get you to a doctor-" Lorelai said.

"I'm. Fine."

"Or at the very least a therapist. Honey, you are so far from fine you can't even see fine from where you're standing."

"I want to see Tristan." Rory's voice shook.

"No. Not right now."

"Mom!"

"First thing in the morning, absolutely, but not right now."

Rory made to get up but Luke gently stopped her. "Rory, it's three in the morning. Even if you could drive like this, or go anywhere in this condition, the hospital wouldn't let you see anyone this late."

"I'll go get you some tea." Lane bustled off as Lorelai and Luke helped her move away from the door.

"You should get some sleep."

"I'm not tired!"

"Rory Gilmore, do you know how deathly scared I was the last four hours? Do not argue with me right now!" Her eyes were watering again.

Feeling instantly contrite, Rory took her mother's hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry, mom. Really, really sorry." The words somehow hit something inside her and she felt tears come to her own eyes.

After a tight hugging session, Lane came back with tea that winded up going to Lorelai since Rory adamantly refused it.

Luke watched Lorelai carefully and made her sit down.

Jess was still hovering over Rory. "You can go now. I'm not going to die or anything." She told him.

"You wanna go to bed?"

"That's probably a good idea." She swallowed and tried to stand up but her legs caved. Jess caught her, waving off the others with a firm _I got it._

"Sorry. Guess I'm kind of wobbly right now."

"Don't worry about it." Jess gave her a small smile and lightly picked her up and carried her to the bed.

"Thank you."

"Please don't have another episode."

She turned to him, expecting a sarcastic expression but instead saw true concern.

She gave him a small nod. "I'll do my best."

"I'm sorry about your friend." He offered as tactfully as he could.

Clenching her jaw, she turned to her side. "Me too." She whispered, closing her eyes tightly.

xXx

_Memories, they're following me like a shadow now  
& I'm dreaming  
& I've already suffered the fever of disbelief_

**Gone away are the golden days…**

* * *

**AN: **Thank you all for the support. Happy New Year :)


	10. Facing Demons

_A movie, still-photograph,  
Through a martyr's eyes I can see,  
I've seen the best of love, the best of hate, the best reward is earned,  
I've paid for every single word I've ever said._

* * *

Rory shut her eyes and feigned sleep for a full two hours until her mother finally left her room, satisfied she wouldn't start convulsing.

She continued to lay in silence for another half hour, just in case. Once her patience had run out, she leaped out of bed and stuffed the covers in the format of every movie that involved a sneaking-out scene. Carefully picking up her keys so they wouldn't jingle, she opened the window and exited the room with a certain silence and determination that was surprising given that this was her first time doing anything of the sort.

Praying that her mom wouldn't hear the noise of the car starting up, Rory pulled out of the driveway and sped out of Stars Hollow. She broke every speed limit between her house and Hartford Hospital, but she barely registered that this was the most reckless act she had ever committed.

Screeching the car into a parking space, Rory threw herself towards the entrance of the hospital. She ignored the bewildered admonitions of the nurses and doctors along the way, ignored that it was nowhere near visiting hours, ignored that running down the hallway was dangerous for everyone.

She stopped in front of the door that would lead to a cocky blond boy she used to hate.

She stopped in front of the door that would lead to a close friend and an almost lover.

She stopped in front of the door that encapsulated so much heartache and yearning that she thought her chest might explode from the pure emotion of it all.

Exhaling, she knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a response.

Rory walked in and felt warmth spread all over her as she saw Tristan lying in his bed, sound asleep. He was beautiful and he was peaceful and he was free from the worry lines that came when he was awake. Walking over to his bed, she wrapped both her hands around one of his.

He woke up. Blinking in confusion for a few seconds, surprise and undeniable joy and recognition lit up his face. He was beautiful and he was happy and he was awake .

"I'm sorry it took me so long." She whispered. "I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Shh." He said comfortingly, squeezing her hand. His eyes could look at nothing else but her. "It doesn't matter, Mary. You're here now."

"I hate you, you know." She clung to his hand for dear life. "I hate you. I think I lov-"

"It's okay." He smiled. "I know." He sat up in his bed and with no hesitation, kissed her gently, his fingers caressing her cheek.

She cried out of sheer happiness and she wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed in that laughing way that only comes from derisive bliss. He was beautiful and he was hers and she was his.

"I was so worried I would be too late, I was so worried you wouldn't forgive me, I was so worried, Tristan."

"Everything's gonna be okay, Rory." He took both her hands and kissed them. "Please know that. No matter what happens, you'll be okay."

"What do you mean?"

"Everything's gonna be okay." He smiled.

-

_She stopped in front of the door that encapsulated so much heartache and yearning that she thought her chest might explode from the pure emotion of it all. _

She stopped in front of the door and shook her hopes and fantasies out of her head, smiling at the memory of them and knowing that the real Tristan was far superior to any persona her imagination could conjure.

Exhaling, she knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a response.

Her eyes blinked in confusion for a moment. She was disoriented. There was no sleeping Tristan, no arrogant angel, lying in the bed. The hospital bed was well made and empty. The room was empty. There were no books or magazines on the side table. She blinked.

Her first thought was that she had run to the wrong room, but that was not possible. She could make it to Tristan's room blindfolded. The back left of the corner still had a small chunk of wall missing, the blinds on the window had the familiar broken dent in the section where Tristan had thrown a book at it in a half-asleep attempt to make the daylight go away. The bed still had a yellow smiley face etched on the headboard in paint, Tristan's attempt to make the room more homey.

This was his room. But the fact remained that the bed was empty.

It wouldn't make sense for his bed to be made if he had just gone a walk around the hall to stretch his legs or get something from the vending machine.

A fluttering of hope blossomed in her stomach when she realized that maybe, maybe he had defied all the stupid odds and all the thunder-cloud talk of the doctors. Maybe, maybe he had gotten better after all and had gone home.

A nurse walked in behind Rory and frowned.

"Excuse me, if you're waiting for someone who is undergoing surgery, you should be in the waiting room. If you're trying to visit a patient, you'll have to wait until the morning."

Ignoring the annoyance in the nurse's tone, Rory turned to her and asked, "Why is this room empty?"

"Oh, the family already collected all the personal effects of the last patient. I'm sure the room will be filled soon enough."

"Where's Tristan Dugrey, the patient whose room this is?"

Another nurse entered the room and it was a woman Rory knew. The nurse's eyes widened when she saw the girl and heard her question. Quietly gesturing for the other nurse to leave, Lucy met Rory's gaze with an almost pitying expression.

"Rory, it's been a while."

"Yes, it has. Where's Tristan?" Lucy was one of the supervising nurses and had grown quite familiar with Tristan and by association, Rory.

"Honey, Tristan passed away three days ago…" Her hand was on Rory's shoulder, her eyes full of concern.

The words didn't register. Rory stared blankly at the woman for a beat, before laughing.

"Excuse me?"

"He lasted much longer than anyone projected." The nurse continued, "But it was his time."

"What are you talking about?" Rory was still smiling.

"He was terminally ill, sweetie. You knew that."

The smile broke. Falteringly, Rory protested, "But I'm here. I'm here now. I came back."

"I'm sorry, Rory. I know how close you two were."

"No! No, I'm here. I came back. I'm here. No. Where is he? Where is he?" Confused tears were cascading down her cheeks and she couldn't breathe. "No, he has to be here. He's supposed to be in that bed and he's supposed to smile when he sees me and then we'd hug and I'd tell him how sorry I am and he'd smile, he'd be here, he's supposed to… this isn't what… this isn't right!"

"Rory…"

"You're lying!" She whimpered, "You're lying! I want to see Tristan. I want to see him."

"Honey, he left something for you." The nurse unlocked the drawer of the bedside table and retrieved an envelope. "He told me to make sure you got it, whenever you came by again."

"What if I hadn't come back, huh?" Rory asked angrily. "What would have happened to the envelope if I never came back?"

"Tristan knew you'd be back." She said simply, giving her the envelope.

Staring at the Manila paper in her hands, listening to the crinkling of the paper, feeling the absolute emptiness of the room when no Tristan Dugrey inhabited it, Rory collapsed against the wall and cried.

"No, no, no, no, no." She sobbed, bordering on hysterical. "This wasn't how it was supposed to be. No, no, no…"

"I'm sorry." Lucy the nurse softly repeated.

"Were his parents here? When it happened?"

"No, they came as soon as they could but no."

This information twisted at Rory's insides and she stood up and walked right out the door without another word.

xXx

Lorelai woke up that morning to find Rory sitting bolt upright on the living room couch, her eyes empty as endless tears flew down her face.

"Babe?"

"He's dead." Her voice was metallic. "He's dead, mom. Tristan is dead." The words sounded so callous, so harsh, so acidic.

In a heartbeat, Lorelai's arms were holding Rory tightly and the contact broke Rory's trance and the girl held on to her mother desperately, her sobs echoing all across the house and out into the near silence of the neighborhood.

"I snuck out, I'm sorry, I had to see him." She choked into her mother's sleeve. "He wasn't there. Everything was gone. He's gone, mom."

Lorelai could think of little she could do to comfort her daughter, and so she just held on to her, her heart breaking right along with Rory's.

"He was supposed to be sleeping. He was supposed to be sleeping and I was going to wake him up and he'd tell me everything was okay, that it was okay that I took so long. He was supposed to hug me and tell me everything was okay and it didn't happen, mom, it didn't. He's gone, he's gone, he's gone." Trying hard to breathe, Rory couldn't stop talking. "I should have been there. Why am I so stupid, mom? Why am I so selfish?"

"Honey, this is not your fault."

"He died alone. He died alone in a hospital room with no one there, not anyone, not his parents or any friends or me. He didn't deserve that, he didn't deserve any of it. It _is_ my fault. I deserted him during his last days on earth. It- is- my- fault."

"You made his last days worth living, Rory. You know that. You made that boy so, so happy." Lorelai smoothed back Rory's hair, desperately willing every ounce of warmth she had to pass to her daughter. Desperately trying to fill the gaping hole that had become of Rory's chest.

"I left him. I left him." Rory was weeping uncontrollably. Her fingers clung to her mother's arms tightly, her breathing coming in erratic little bursts. "You t-told me not to, you begged me not to… I'm such a- I'm so-"

"Shh. No, sweetie. You were scared. He would have forgiven you for that."

Rory just shook on the couch, her sobs the only noise that could be heard for several houses down.

xXx

It did not take long for the concerned neighbours to consult each other and whisper to others in the town. Worry coated Stars Hollow- there wasn't a soul there who didn't adore Rory. No one dared bother the house so early on- even Patty knew that knocking or calling at this time would be intrusive.

Luke tensely closed the diner at eleven that morning, exhausted by the flow of questions his customers poured into him. Lorelai had called him with the devastating news when Rory went to the washroom for a few minutes, a half hour after Rory got home. He was slightly panicked with worry by that time but despite his relief at getting an explanation, explaining to the town was not something he wanted to do several hundred times.

Wiping down the counter, he eyed Jess, who was staring absently at his hands. Dean refused to leave the diner and was also staring absently in an adjacent corner. Somehow, both boys knew that if any news were to come or any call for help sent out, it would be here. And despite Luke's general loathing of Dean – a dislike that had intensified greatly when he found out the details of the break-up incident- the man could not turn away the boy who had such genuine concern.

"She'll be okay." Luke broke the silence of the diner finally, throwing the cloth he had been using over his shoulder. The counter was glistening and he was not going to waste time and effort on a task that was done, regardless of his anxieties.

"She hid herself in a state of emotional shock for the last few months because of this guy." Jess looked up at his uncle, his expression clearly saying that he was not going to be comforted by petty falsities.

"She really cared about him." Dean said, his voice strained.

"I'm not saying she'll get over it in a day. I'm saying she'll be okay." Luke sighed, not altogether surprised that this was when Jess and Dean would agree on something.

"We should visit her." Dean said, sending Jess a quick glance before he went back to staring at his lap.

"You think I didn't want to be over there the moment the first person barged in here, telling me that you could hear Rory crying from four houses away?" Luke said with more than a little impatience.

"Has she ever had to deal with death before?" Jess asked quietly after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

Luke blew out a breath and shook his head.

"Fuck." Jess sighed almost inaudibly, letting his head fall back against the wall.

"None of us even met the guy, maybe this isn't as big of a deal as we think it is…" Dean tried half-heartedly to reason.

"He was stuck in a hospital bed the entire time Rory was friends with him." Jess pointed out. "And she wasn't exactly going to march us all down there for a sit-down meet-and-greet."

"He knew Lorelai. I think that tells you everything you need to know about how much he meant to her." Seeing the worried frowns grow deeper on both boys' faces, Luke tossed a nearly empty napkin dispenser to Dean. "Do something useful, refill the napkins." Handing some order forms to Jess, he instructed his nephew to do an inventory of the stock in the kitchen and write down anything that needed re-ordering.

As the teenagers silently did as ordered, Luke glanced at the phone one last time before he picked up the cloth and wiped the nearest table.

xXx

A few days later, Lorelai sat beside Rory as she handed her an elegantly designed envelope. It was essentially a cue card with a few sentences informing them that Tristan's funeral was to be in four days. It was from Tristan's father, and judging from the fact that it was slipped under the door, it had been hand delivered. He had written that Tristan requested Rory to be told before the official obituary was published, before the information was available to the public.

Sure enough, when Rory scanned the Hartford newspaper the next day, it was the first day Tristan's obituary appeared. Seeing his not-quite serious face in the flat, flimsy newspaper stabbed at her heart. The details were sparse: birth and _death_ (oh god, that word made her want to go catatonic again) date, parents' names, the fact that he went to Chilton, and the fact that he had passed away "peacefully" at Hartford Hospital after a long illness; he would be missed by his mother, his father, his various extended family members, and his esteemed classmates.

Rory closed her eyes. The fact that they couldn't even write 'friends' instead of classmates made her clench her jaw. Nonetheless, she carefully cut the article out of the paper. She would have it laminated.

That afternoon, a few Chiltonites called her from various places, having read the news of Tristan's death. Yes, Rory had heard. Yes, Rory had known that Tristan was seriously ill. Yes, Rory had visited him many times. Yes, Rory was upset. Yes, Rory would be okay.

Paris called from her second house in New York and was surprised to hear her voice soaked with crying. She would be flying back for the funeral and everyone else was too- anyone who didn't have the respect to come back, she would personally decimate.

For the first time in a long time, Rory realized that perhaps she wasn't the only person that would miss Tristan.

The day of the funeral came. The days before it had been mundane, lifeless- much like Rory herself had become. The Gilmore residence had been shrouded in sorrow and minimal contact with the outside world had occurred. Rory's grandparents pulled up in a chauffeured Bentley an hour before they would have to set off for Hartford. The two had been told by Lorelai before the news spread through the Hartford grapevine of Tristan's death and the enormity the fact held for Rory. As often happened when it came to Rory, their sense of almost cold propriety melted away when they heard of their granddaughter's pain and became once more doting grandparents.

Emily and Lorelai both took one of Rory's arms in their comforting grip as they made their way to the car, and Richard's hand was a steady rock against his daughter's back.

The church was absolutely overflowing with people. Rory was stunned to see that almost all who were of her grade and many who weren't had flown back from whichever corner of the world they had been vacationing in to pay their respects. Older business people swarmed the pews, something Rory attributed to the fact that Tristan's parents were obviously well revered in the community. The Chiltonites seemed to instinctively drift away from those who were clearly there for Tristan's parents; the youth was largely gathered in a clump to the centre of the church.

The church itself was a handsome building, ornate and ancient. A sizable portrait was placed up front by the podium, by the…coffin. Tristan looked faintly amused in this picture, the corners of his lips were just barely turned up into a smile, but his eyes were dancing.

Biting down on the inside of her cheek, Rory made her way towards her classmates. Most looked genuinely distraught. Sitting down next to a silently crying Paris, Rory understood for the first time that she had been foolish and selfish to believe that she was the only one crippled by the loss of Tristan.

Once everyone was seated, Tristan's parents stood at the front of the church and for the first time, Rory noticed a large screen had been erected.

"Thank you all for coming. Tristan made me swear to show this video for you all here today before we begin with the proceedings. With all that has happened, I- we- owe him this much."

Rory felt a lump develop in her throat. Lorelai's hand was over hers in a heartbeat.

The screen came to life; Tristan's face amplified for all to see. His hair was as full as it had been the day he left the school, his face as animated. This was clearly filmed very early into his stay at the hospital.

The Tristan on screen broke into a wide grin, "Hey, all. Don't I look pretty?" A sob echoed across the room. It took a moment for Rory to realize that it had come from herself. The grin eased into a light smile. "If you're watching this now, it means you're all sitting in a church dressed in black. And I think I owe a shitload of you an explanation. Sorry dad, FYI, I'm gonna swear in this a bit. So, almost none of you knew I was even sick so this whole 'hey, guess what? Tristan's dead' thing probably shocked the hell out of those of you cared. And I'm sorry. I really am. I knew about this for a long, long time and it really would've just been well, fair, for me to give you guys a heads-up too. I'm sorry for the rude awakening. I just wasn't- I didn't want people knowing early on and, you know, feeling bad for me or treating me differently or whatever. Don't feel bad if I didn't tell you I was sick- I only told those I was boxed into telling.

So, I was diagnosed with something that would kill me last year- pretty much around the time my "suspensions" started… That reminds me, let the fuck up on Duncan and Bowman, hey? Those two saved my ass a lot- they were my alibis for hospital visits, usually. So stop being uppity pricks to them."

* * *

[_"Well, well, well. Look who's back from suspension." Louise had said._

"_Tristan got suspended again? What did he do?"_

"_Took apart Mr. McCaffey's car and put it back together in the science building hallway."_

"_You're kidding."_

"_Yeah, well he didn't do it by himself. Duncan and Bowman were there too."_

"_Hey, anyone stupid enough to hand out with Butch Cassidy and the Sun-dunce kid deserves whatever they get." Paris had said. How could she have said that, how? Paris heard her own words ring in the recesses of her memory like a pebble thrown over static water. How could she have said that?_

"_How did he fall in with those guys?"_

"_The new year started and there they were, all three of them, side by side." _How they could have been so stupid?

xXx

"_Are you all right? …A lot of stuff's been going on with you lately, huh?" _Rory had asked him

"_Meaning?"_

"_Just, you know, the car thing, the suspension thing, a lot of drama."_

"_Well I get bored easily."_

"_Just doesn't really seem like you."_

"_And you know me now?" Fool, fool, fool for ever assuming she understood one thought that went through Tristan Dugrey's mind at that time._

"_I know you don't get suspended for stupid pranks."_

"_I pulled stuff like that before I knew Duncan and Bowman, all right?"_

"_Well, if you did, you didn't get caught. You're getting caught a lot."_

"_Your point being?"_

"_Maybe Duncan and Bowman aren't the best people to be hanging out with. They're not as smart as you Tristan, they don't have what you have going for you. They…"_

_He must have hated her then. He must have hated her at that moment._

"_You know, I'm gonna have to bail before we get to the whole hugging part. And ask your boyfriend to remind me when it's coupon day, okay?"]_

* * *

"So, six months of treatment, of arcane, of radical, of foreign, of far-fetched, of expensive treatment was given to me. Didn't take so well. So 'cause I'm a selfish little prick, I told you guys that I was booted to military school. That was actually the first night I checked into Hartford Hospital. That was when the real hard-core treatment would take place, the shit I wouldn't be able to hide or lie away. I'm sorry, Paris, for ditching on the play. If Harvard rejects you based on that, send them a copy of this tape. They can't very well deny you on principle of dying-boy.

I pretty much have no idea what day it is you all are seeing this right now, but I hope I didn't kick it during a holiday and permanently screw it up for you. This church better be damn well full to bursting, by the way. And not just with people from DuGrey Industries- because, with all due respect, this message is for my friends, my minions, my frenemies, my groupies, my fellow debauchery-indulging adolescent awesome-makers. If all of Chilton isn't here, I urge the rest of you to pillage and burn those who suck dick enough to stand me up.

Anyways, don't feel too bad, okay? Yeah, dying at sixteen blows, but I've had a year to come to terms with it. I'm rather confident that as you hear this, I'm having a blast with some other hot dead people in a bad ass after life. So, don't be too torn up. I mean, every single one of you better miss me, bitches, but don't get too sad. I'm gonna be okay and I hope you will be too. I grew up with a lot of you, and this is probably going to remind you of your own mortality and blah blah blah. Well, I lived a pretty awesome life so you guys better get your ass in gear doing the same. Do dumb shit- but do it intelligently. Do random shit- but make sure you plan for them to happen. Be crazy- but never lose your hold on sanity. Spend money like you're shittin' it, but only on what makes you happy. Fuck like rabbits, drink your liver black - but never, ever forget who you are kiddies. Lie, cheat, and steal- break every fucking moral and legal code there is- except for your own.

I'm gone, man. Remember my rock star charm and my movie god looks, laugh at my genius ploys and learn from the ways of me. Eat the food at the wake, cry on each other's shoulders, have a naked orgy in memory of me. But then go back to school. Go back to work. Go back to life. Okay? You all better promise me that. Or I'll haunt your asses. And not in a sexy way, either.

Love ya, but not as much as you all love me, peace babes."

Tristan's animated face broke out in a fresh laugh as his arm swung into view to turn the camera off.

If Rory had looked around, she would have realized that tears were streaming down the faces of everyone in her Chilton section.

xXx

The service was not special. It was not moving, but perfunctory. When it ended, everyone was given the chance to see the open casket and say their goodbyes.

Pairs of the teenagers in front of her cried as they leaned over the casket; boys with their arms around their girlfriends, boys with their hands stuffed in pockets, girls who could barely breathe due to their sobbing, girls unable to look at the casket.

When it was her pew's turn, Paris couldn't seem to stand up. "I have known Tristan my entire life. No, sorry, my life up to now. I've known him _his_ entire life. I don't have a memory that stretches back before I knew him. I don't have a memory before meeting him in that sandbox over a decade ago. We were supposed to be spoiled and pampered and privileged together. We were supposed to graduate together. He would be the class clown, I would be valedictorian, it was always meant to be like that. The inevitability of that meant we would go on pretending like I didn't use to tutor him, that he didn't use to verbally eviscerate anyone who mocked me. He would pretend like he didn't know I liked him deeper than I liked any other male, I would pretend like I didn't know he never could like me as more than childhood-friend-Paris. I've known him forever."

Rory gently took the girl's hand in hers, her other hand still in Lorelai's, and the three of them made their way together. "I can't." Paris muttered.

"He would want you to." Rory answered.

"This was the church we both had our first communion, you know." The blonde girl whispered. "Everything is shrink wrapped in tradition." Clenching her fists, her face impassive, she said, "I want to burn it all to the ground." Without another moment of hesitation, Paris led the rest up the final steps to the casket.

His body was adorned in a very fine black suit. The make-up meant to soften the blow of the deceased pallor only made it more garish. She knew he was blue underneath it all. He was cold as ice. A lifeless mannequin.

Rory touched his cheekbone, the face she had loved, and thought she might collapse.

Paris beat her to it; the girl's knees buckled and she let out a low keening noise. For the first time, Rory was forced to be the strong one. And this, in an ocean of tactics used to try to help her heal, saved her the most.

Helping the girl to her feet, Rory hugged Paris against her as she let herself truly breakdown. Snivelling, sobbing, grasping- it didn't matter. This was Tristan Dugrey. Here he was, the man she had practically moved into Hartford Hospital for, the man she almost killed herself to see at five in the morning.

Here he was, and he would never do or say or think or hear or feel anything again, not ever.

* * *

_There's never been a promise of forever,_

_But don't feel sorry for me, baby._

_Death's only the next frontier for me._

_Don't cry too hard, baby. You know I'll be fine._

* * *

**AN: **I know pretty much all of you were banking on Rory getting to Tristan on time and on the two of them having a period of happiness together, but I've had this tragic thing planned from the get-go, and I'm sorry for all whose hearts are breaking right now. No, Rory's state last chapter was not a dream, she was remembering past events- they were indeed flashbacks.

Now, this story is not done. Tristan is gone, yes, but there are still strings to be dealt with. Plus, this story is the type that begs for an epilogue. So there is still a bit left to be told.


	11. Epilogue

**AN: **Thank you all for the input for the last chapter, I'm really glad it affected you all like that (because it is monumental praise for a writer, not because I'm a sadist haha) and I love the long reviews. Thanks to all who have stuck with this story for its full run, it's been an interesting ride. Here's the last section.

* * *

_I thought of you, and where'd you gone…And the world spins madly on_

* * *

Tristan's death had unified Chilton for a while when school started up again two weeks later. There were grief counselors brought in and everyone seemed nicer to each other in their sadness. Paris and Rory became surprisingly close after the incident, as they were the ones that were most shaken by his loss. It was ignited when the two found themselves sitting on the same couch; both had plates of food in front of them at the insistence of their parents and both had set those plates on the table untouched. They just sat there, until finally Paris commented that Rory seemed to have become rather close to the boy. Rory's eyes had clouded over as she told Paris about the last several months, cringing when she admitted that she had run away from him when he had finally told her the truth of his condition.

Just like Lorelai, Paris told her that he would have forgiven her without hesitation. Unlike Lorelai, this was said matter-of-factly, and Rory realized the truth in the words. Somewhere it was suggested that Rory and her mother stay in Hartford, and watching her torn classmates and her sympathetic grandparents, Rory agreed.

When Rory and Lorelai arrived back home several weeks later, there was a note taped to the front door. It was from Jess and it simply said to call him if they needed anything. Rory smiled slightly at the thoughtfulness of the gesture as she took the note down and remembered abruptly the various messages Tristan had left for her that she had still not checked.

She cradled the phone in her hands for a moment, knowing that this would be the last time she would hear him say anything; knowing that this would be the last new memory she would have about the boy.

"_Mary…I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts to breathe." _

Rory closed her eyes against the wave of intense pain that welled up inside her upon hearing Tristan's sorrow soaked voice.

Taking a deep breath, she told herself to hold it together. There was more to get through and she could not run from any of this for any longer. With shaking fingers, she unfolded the folded note Tristan had asked Lorelai to give her what seemed like a lifetime ago.

_Please don't forget me. _

She forced the tears back. What a ridiculous boy. Forgetting was an impossibility. But having him ask her not to revealed a layer of insecurity he used to safeguard so strictly.

Her mother had wandered into her room by this time, silently asking if she wanted her presence. Rory took her mother's hand. "I think it's time to open the envelope the nurse gave me."

_Ror,_

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you so much that you couldn't face me again. I'm sorry for leaving those pathetic messages pleading with you to come back. I know now I was asking you to do something you couldn't. _

_I'm gonna be pissed at you if you feel guilty about anything at all, okay? This is heavy stuff and I absolutely don't blame you for not being able to deal. Hell, I wasn't exactly calm when I found out. Believe me, I was a total bastard for a good four months. If anyone's to blame, it's me. Like I said, I should've told you about my illness the first time you came to visit me. But, and please forgive me for this, I'm kind of glad I didn't. I mean, I hate so much that my actions caused you more pain, but if I had told you earlier, we wouldn't have become as close as we did. And the last few months? They're the best I've lived. And this is coming from a guy who's been to movie premieres and partied with actual royalty. Prince William's pretty rad. _

__

_You know, it's funny. I found out I was "terminally ill" the day before I asked you to that stupid concert. That was what made me decide to actually ask you out instead of just trying to get in your pants. I kind of sucked at that approach, didn't I? You said you hated me that day and I was treated to the very depressing scene of you making out with bean stalk grocer boy. So I'm kind of vindictively happy you broke up with him for me. But what I'm saying here is that when I found out I was seriously sick, one of the things on my to-do list was to make an honest go with you. Which I think should make you feel rather special. Even before we really knew each other that well, being with you was on my list of things to do before I died. Just thought you should know. _

_I'm babbling. Sorry. God, how many times am I gonna say that in this? Okay. Well I thought about leaving you a video recording, I did that for the funeral as you'll soon see, but I…I don't look so good. I don't really want a video record of how I look right now. But I wish you could see in me how much I care about you. Words on paper just aren't effective enough. But I really fucking care, okay? I've been in love before, but fuck, we weren't even dating. What I feel for you goes so much past a teenage romance, which makes sense since we didn't have a teenage romance. _

_I hate that I got you so attached only to up and die before I could follow through. I wish I could walk down the halls of Chilton with you as my girlfriend, but babe, you know that never would've happened. You know that had I lived and gone back to school… well, I'd still be me. We wouldn't have lasted. I'm not telling you this to be mean, I'm telling you this so you don't blame my illness on us not being together. The illness was what brought us together. Face it, if I hadn't been sick, you would've still hated me. And if I wasn't as sick as I am, I would never have let you see this version of me. He's kind of a pansy. But dying does that to a guy. So at the end of it all, I'm glad for the sickness. Glad for the dying. Without it, I'd never have had you. _

_You didn't deal well with just finding out that I was dying, so I'm really worried for you when you have to face my actual death. Please don't let it destroy you. Your mom's worried as fuck about you and so am I. And this is going to sound so weird and tripped out, but seriously, I meant it when I told you to go for Jess. I may not know the guy, but I know he'll be great for you. And I know you knew that too, before I made you fall for me like the chick-stealing, awesome god I am. We weren't together. You owe me nothing. Be happy. As one of your closest friends, I'm telling you to be happy. _

_Let me go. Okay? You're beautiful and intelligent and funny, you're the single sweetest person I have ever met. And you're sixteen. You have so much life left to live and so many more guys to hate and then fall for. Don't let what happened with us make you live any less than you would have. _

_For everything you've done for me, for every emotion you've made me feel, for every second you gave me of your time, for every moment you made me feel like I wasn't a lost cause, I thank you. _

_And this is going to sound cheesy and lame and not me, but like I said, dying does that to a guy…and fuck, it's happening really fucking soon, Rory. I can feel it. It'll be in no more than a day or so. And even though I've seen it coming, there's something about the last twenty four hours that makes people just throw caution to the motherfucking winds and just say it all while there's time. So here goes._

_I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you. _

_You will always, always be my Mary. _

_-Tris. _

-

Rory sat on the edge of a bridge in Stars Hollow and let her feet dangle above the water. Her arms were leaning against the lower railing, her forehead pressed against the cool metal of the upper railing. It was late and the fall air was only cold enough to make her feel alive.

"Nice bracelet."

"It's supposed to be a charm bracelet with charms to be added for every person who cares about me." Rory didn't need to look to know Jess had sat down beside her. The bracelet in question had come from Tristan's envelope, with a note attached explaining what Rory just said.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Rory said, "I would have called if I had known what to say." She looked away from the water to see that he was watching the sky. "It's not that I didn't want to talk to you, or appreciate the gesture."

"I know." He shrugged. "I'm not much of a phone person anyways."

"You would have hated him." Rory smiled.

"I don't know if I would have."

"He was the embodiment of the privileged preppy jerks we make fun of."

"He treated you right."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he sent me a letter to watch out for you."

She shook her head, and teased him, "Is that the only reason you're doing this?"

He smirked, his eyes meeting hers. "He also sent me a letter, months ago, telling me to fight for you. His exact words included- 'Man, I'm stuck in a hospital bed. Stick it to Bag Boy for both of us'."

Rory rolled her eyes at Tristan's persistent attempt at matchmaking.

"So. That's how I know he treated you right. And if he cared that much, he couldn't have been that bad." They smiled at each other and he turned back to looking at the sky, she turned her gaze back to the water.

-

A few days later, Jess chased her down as she was walking down the street after leaving Luke's diner.

"Would it be okay if I added a charm to your bracelet?"

"I already know you care." Rory smiled.

"It's not one representing me." Jess slipped his fingers in his pocket and retrieved a small smirking devil out of wrapped tissue paper.

She felt her eyes water as he attached it.

"I saw your necklace, and I thought it was appropriate."

She had never quite had such a strong urge to kiss someone, and the compulsion shocked her. And yet, how could she feel guilty when he was giving her something to remind her of Tristan, not doing something in an attempt to make her forget about him faster?

Suppressing herself, Rory hugged him instead, willing herself not to cry.

"So are you saying you personally don't care?" She said, teasing him again to change the mood.

"What, you want a charm to remind you of me?"

"Hmm. Do they make diner-boy charms? Or skulking loner ones?"

"I don't skulk. And I prefer 'establishment slave."

"I guess we'll have to figure out what charm would work. You're hard to peg down." She fiddled with the pendant around her neck. He noticed.

He looked her right in the eyes and said simply, "It's too soon."

"Are you saying that you would-"

"Rory, don't be blind. And don't play dumb. You don't need me to say it."

An awkward, tense silence followed with all the mingled emotions the two had always felt for each other.

"How do you go from being so closed off to everyone else to doing stuff like this?" Rory was genuinely curious.

"_I'm_ closed off?" Jess raised his eyebrows. "You're the one who had a lock on yourself for months."

"Yeah, well you're still locked up. That's why the town is wary of you, you know."

"You think so?"

"You might as well have a padlock on you, preventing anyone from getting in."

"I should get back to work." Jess said abruptly.

"I didn't mean to offend you-" Rory backpedaled, abashed.

"Just take care of yourself."

-

Time passed. Grief counselors went away. Life went on.

Some other rich boy with an attitude took up the throne of most popular. Tristan's old groupies found a new leader to swoon around.

She stopped seeing him in crowds, stopped flashing back to the image of him leaning against her locker. Stopped hearing his teasing voice calling her Mary over the din in the hallway.

Time went on. People stopped mourning. And somewhere inside her, she wished she could be cloaked in sadness forever. She didn't want life to go on and she didn't want to forget.

But when Jess gave her a key charm one day, hesitantly telling her that she unlocked the padlock he had around him, she took his hand and felt weightless.

The key felt right on her wrist, it felt right sitting there next to the devil. And her head felt right resting on his shoulder, his warmth comforting.

He had been right. It was too soon. But it was soothing to know that when it wasn't too soon, Tristan had personally hand-picked this and given them his earnest blessing.

Lorelai would watch the two sitting just an inch closer than normal friends would out on the front porch and she would know that she would never like him anywhere near as much as she adored Tristan; she would know that a part of her would always see him as riffraff... but she smiled nonetheless. Rory was healing and that was all that mattered.

"Jess, thank you." Rory said quietly one day as the two found themselves sitting on that very same bridge. "I might have jumped into this lake if it weren't for you."

"You would've just gotten rather wet, you know. I've been pushed into that lake. It's not that deep." He smirked.

"I'm always going to be his Mary, you have to understand that."

"Yeah, I do. But I don't want that girl. So I figure I've still got a shot at having myself a Rory, even if this Mary girl's out of the picture."

"It would've been you, you know. If I hadn't gone to that hospital that day. It would've been you." He looked sad. She entwined her hand in his. "I wish it still could be, sometimes."

"There's time."

* * *

_"Some think it's holding on that makes one strong; sometimes it's __letting go__. There are things that we never want to let go of, people we never want to leave behind. But keep in mind that __letting go__ isn't __the end of the world__, it's the beginning of a _**new life."**

**The End **


End file.

Gilmore Girls, Drama