Title: I Read The News Today, Oh Boy
Author: Carrie
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Lorelai has called off her engagement to Max. Rory and Dean have broken up. Fumigators come to the house so they spend the day at the country club.
Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls and its characters belong to Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions and Hofflund/Polone in association with Warner Bros. Television.

Chapter Five

Having sobered since their conversation, the term 'muffin' wasn't brought up again, nor was the reason he had come to use it. Their recent topics of discussion tended to stray from the personal. In fact, their interaction could almost be termed more business-like than anything. She helped him get around. He helped her with football. They helped each other with homework. They studied at his house after school and at her house on Sundays. The bickering also continued. But no matter how heated their arguments got, she was always on hand to escort him to class or carry his lunch or whatever else he wasn't able to do on his own.

The gossip that initially went around Chilton surrounding their unusual arrangement quickly died down, mostly out of boredom, being replaced by juicier gossip that had more entertainment value. Most of Stars Hollow was ignorant of his existence, despite the fact that each Sunday at noon he would show up on the Gilmore doorstep with books in hand, or rather, Emmett carrying his books. Lorelai had become accustomed to his presence and to their strange relationship. One minute things would be fine, the next they were in the midst of an argument about self-adhesive stamps versus the ones that you have to lick.

Some things just didn't change.

It was Saturday night and Lane was sleeping over. She lay across Rory's bed reading the inside of a CD case while Rory popped Tori Amos into the stereo and hit play.

"You know what my new favorite song is?" asked Lane.

"Gin and juice?"

"By the Gourds?"

"Of course," replied Rory, sitting down beside her.

"I like that version, but no."

"Then what's your new favorite song?"

"It's not so much the song as it is the video."

"Okay. What's your new favorite song due to its video?"

"You're going to laugh."

"Why would I laugh?"

"Because of who sings the song."

"Who sings the song?"

"You're going to laugh at me."

Rory sighed in exasperation.

"Why would I laugh at you?"

"Because this is not the sort of music we normally listen to. In fact, we've been known to make fun of people who listen to these guys."

"These guys? Uh oh. You don't mean..."

"I'm overwhelmingly attracted to Justin Timberlake," Lane quickly blurted out.

Rory raised her eyebrows as Lane continued.

"Have you seen the video for 'Gone'? He is hot!"

"Where did you see the video?"

"The electronics department at Target," explained Lane, "while my mom was off shopping for soap. It was on sale."

"The video?"

"The soap."

Rory contemplated this new piece of information as she brought her legs up and crossed them underneath her.

"So, Justin Timberlake, huh?"

"I know. I'm such a.....a teen. What's next? A web site shrine and a subscription to Tiger Beat?"

She dropped her head to the mattress.

"I hate to break this to you but we are teens," said Rory.

"I guess," replied Lane, raising her head back up. "So, who are you hot for?"

Rory's brow creased.

"I'm not hot for anyone."

"How can you not be hot for anyone? We just saw The Lord of the Rings which was loaded with hot guys. Take your pick."

"Fine," said Rory. "Ian McKellen."

Lane shook her head.

"Are you sure you're a teen?" asked Lane.

Rory just shrugged as Lane pondered for a moment.

"Wait, I get it," stated Lane.

"What?"

"I know why you're not attracted to anyone. You're desensitized."

"I'm desensitized?" queried Rory.

"Tristan's coming over to study tomorrow, isn't he?"

Rory abruptly got off the bed.

"Oh no," she declared. "Don't start."

"Your mom says he's gorgeous."

"Can we not talk about Tristan?"

"You don't deny that he's gorgeous."

"He's also egotistical, argumentative, stubborn, infuriating...."

"He's quite a thesaurus," interrupted Lane.

Rory sagged back onto the bed.

"He's not my type," added Rory.

"What is your type?"

"I don't have a type."

"Then how do you know he's not your type?"

"Because of his type."

"What type is that?"

"The type to have girls fawning all over him, willing to do anything to be at his side."

"Like drive him to school and help him study?"

Rory glared at her.

"Noooo," she emphasized. "I really don't think that's what he does with them."

"Well, I'd still like to see him for myself," continued Lane.

"Fine," relented Rory. "Stay until noon and you can meet him."

"Cool," Lane said, turning her attention back to the CD before dropping it again. "Hey, do you think he's my type?"

"No," Rory replied. "But if you ask nicely, he may sign your copy of Tiger Beat."

RORY'S HOUSE (NEXT DAY)

The doorbell rang and Lorelai opened the door to reveal Tristan on his crutches and Emmett carrying Tristan's book bag in one hand and a pan of brownies in the other.

"Hey, guys! Come on in." greeted Lorelai.

Tristan hobbled in with Emmett following.

"Oh my stars, are those brownies?" asked Lorelai, noticing the pan.

"Hilda made them for you and Rory," said Emmett.

He handed the pan to Lorelai as Tristan headed further into the house looking for Rory.

"Hilda is a goddess! A chocolate bearing goddess of nutty proportions. I can transfer them to a plate so you can take the pan home."

Emmett set Tristan's bag down and held up his hand.

"Don't worry about it. Hilda has more pans than she knows what to do with. In fact, I have another consumable in the car that Rory said you might find enjoyable."

Lorelai followed him out to the car.

Tristan noticed what looked like homework already spread out on the kitchen table but had yet to see Rory. He glanced into her empty room when he heard footsteps coming down the stairway. He registered curiously that it sounded like more than one person. But before he could contemplate it further, Rory appeared at the bottom of the steps with a strange girl behind her.

"Hey, Tristan," greeted Rory mildly.

"Hey."

"This is my best friend, Lane. She spent the night..." said Rory, noticing the admiring grin on Lane's face. "And, is still here."

"I can see that," smiled Tristan charmingly. "Nice to meet you, Lane."

"A pleasure to meet you, Tristan," said Lane and, much to her horror, did some sort of bowing curtsy.

Both Rory and Tristan were puzzled by her strange behavior, but Rory had the presence enough to try to help.

"It's Korean custom," she explained.

"Ah," he replied, amused. "Are you going to study with us, Lane?"

"Oh, um, well, I didn't bring my homework but I could stay for a little while," she ended, with a questioning look at Rory to see if it was okay.

"Sure," Rory shrugged, picking up Tristan's bag and leading them to the kitchen table. "Although, we're working on pre-calc. We have a test Tuesday."

"Oh."

Tristan looked at her for an explanation as he sat down at the table.

"I'm only in Trig," she explained to him. "Which I hate."

"Trig does suck," he responded sympathetically with a smile.

She smiled back, appreciating the lack of condescension. Rory found herself a bit annoyed at their little bonding session.

"Do you guys want anything to drink?" asked Rory. "We've got..."

"Coffee!" cried Lorelai, entering the room brandishing a thermos in front of her. Emmett walked in behind her carrying the brownies.

"And, while it was brought for me, given my generous nature and steadfast fortitude..." she said dramatically.

Emmett watched her in amused wonder while no one else even seemed to blink an eye at her performance.

"And she hasn't even had the coffee yet," said Rory.

"Hush!" said Lorelai. "Now where was I? Oh, yes, 'steadfast fortitude'. I will happily bestow this gracious gift to those most worthy of its...its..."

"Natural magnificence?"

"No."

"Its cloak of caffeinated happiness?"

"Its idiom?" smiled Emmett.

"What did you call me?"

"What? I... No, I..." stammered Emmett

"She gets the joke, Emmett. She's just playing with you."

"If you bring coffee like this all the time, you can call me whatever you want," said Lorelai, taking the brownies from him and placing them on the table along with the thermos. "So, who wants some?"

"No, thanks," said Tristan.

"None for me," added Lane.

"I don't need any, mom."

"What?!? Heathens!" gasped Lorelai, grabbing the thermos from the table and hugging it to her. She then picked it up to speak to it. "Forgive them. They know not what they do."

"You should see her when she doesn't have her coffee," said Rory once again to Emmett.

"I can be rather irritating," admitted Lorelai. "Ah, speaking of irritating people. I've got an idea. Do you need to be anywhere, Emmett?"

"No. I was just driving back to the house."

"Great! Honey, we're going to Luke's. I'll see you guys later."

"Bye, mom. Bye, Emmett."

"Bye, Rory, Tristan, and..." said Emmett, having not been introduced to Lane. "Rory's friend."

"I'm Lane."

"Bye, Lane."

"Bye," she said and upon noticing Rory's pointed look, stood to do another curtsy.

The remaining three watched them leave and then stared for a quiet moment at the pan on the table.

"Brownies?" asked Rory.

"Yes, please," replied Tristan and Lane in unison. Lane giggled in reaction and Tristan smiled at her again, causing her to blush demurely. Rory merely rolled her eyes and went to retrieve a knife from the drawer.

"You cut them and I'll get some plates," said Rory to Lane, trying to distract her from her adoration.

Lane began cutting the brownies as Rory searched for some small plates.

"So, how is your foot, Tristan?" asked Lane, trying to make conversation.

"It's doing all right. It still hurts at times."

"How long are you supposed to be on crutches?"

"It depends on how long it takes to heal. But I start physical therapy on Monday."

Rory turned around abruptly.

"What?" she asked.

"What?" repeated Tristan.

She walked over and set the plates on the table.

"You start physical therapy when?"

"Monday."

"This coming Monday? As in tomorrow Monday?"

Lane stopped cutting the brownies and sat back to experience her first banter brawl.

"Yes."

"You didn't tell me that."

"I thought I did."

"Tristan, you didn't tell me."

"So?"

"So?!" repeated Rory in exasperation. "What time is it at?"

"Three o' clock. Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I can go right after school."

Rory turned away from him, annoyed, trying to busy herself with finding some napkins.

"You don't have to take me," reasoned Tristan, also annoyed. "Emmett can."

Rory twirled around.

"I've got your stupid car. I drive you home every day. What good reason is there for me not to take you to physical therapy?"

"Okay, there is no good reason. Doesn't mean you have to. Especially since you're so upset about it."

"I'm not upset. I'm just..." she sighed. "You didn't tell me."

"I thought I did."

"You didn't."

"Okay, maybe I didn't. What difference does it make?"

Rory came back to the table with napkins.

"If you don't want me to take you, then just say so. Don't play stupid games with me."

"Excuse me! Don't play...?" he chuckled shortly, her comment raising his ire. "It's funny that you find meaning in something so trivial and yet in a situation when there is meaning to be found, you fail to recognize it altogether."

"Meaning? What? When?"

"You're just proving my point?"

"What point, Tristan?"

"Forget it."

"You can't just..."

"I said forget it. You don't want to know."

"I want to know," said Lane without thinking.

She had sat through the whole conversation in rapt attention, unconsciously picking apart a brownie and shoving it into her mouth.

Having forgotten she was in the room, both Rory and Tristan turned to her. Slightly embarrassed that they had such a conversation in front of her, they turned their own attention back to the brownies and their homework, much to the chagrin of Lane. Damn it. Why did she have to open her mouth?

CHILTON

It was late in the day Monday and they had yet to resolve the conversation from the day before. In fact, most of the day had been spent in silence. They walked to his locker and Rory spun the combination and opened it as easily as she would her own. As usual, he stood back and watched her take care of retrieving the books and folders he would need.

"Are you going to take me to therapy?" he asked finally.

She turned and sighed.

"Do you want me to take you?"

He sighed just as heavily.

"Can we not do this again?"

"Do what?" queried Rory. "I'm asking you a simple question. Do...YOU...want...ME...to...take...you...to...physical...therapy?"

He dropped his eyes to the floor.

"Yes," he answered quietly.

His response took her by surprise. She was prepared to go a few more rounds with him. And when his eyes came up to meet hers, the distinctive look of sadness surprised her even more.

"Okay," she said just as quietly. "I'll take you. See. Easy."

"Yeah," he agreed somberly. "Easy."

PHYSICAL THERAPY CLINIC

It took a little driving around to figure out where they needed to go so Tristan barely got checked in before they were calling his name. Rory sat in the small waiting room quietly engrossed in her latest book. She barely realized how much time had passed until she was interrupted by the telltale tones of Tristan's cell phone. She hesitated a second and considered letting his voicemail get it, but after the second annoying ring and a few irritated stares from the other people waiting, she rummaged through his jacket pockets and pulled it out.

"Hello," said Rory.

"Rory?"

"Hi, Emmett. How are you?"

"Just fine. How was your day at school?"

"Busy. I took so many notes that I thought my hand was going to fall off. I think I may need to be put on a donor list."

Emmett chuckled.

"Tristan's still in therapy?"

She looked at her watch.

"Yeah, he should be getting out pretty soon though. Do you want me to have him call you?"

"Yes, please. I just need to talk to him for a second."

"Okay, I'll tell him."

"Thank you, Rory. I'll see you later."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Rory turned off the phone and placed it back in Tristan's jacket. She picked up her book again and was about to continue reading when someone opened the door and Tristan hobbled out on his crutches.

"Hey," she greeted, standing up.

"Hey."

"How did it go?"

"All right," he replied and reached for his jacket.

Rory grabbed it first, knowing he couldn't get it on without at least a little help on her part. Once he got it on, they headed out of the building.

"Emmett just called. He wants you to call him."

"Did he say what it was about?" he asked, a little perplexed.

"No. Just said to call."

Once outside, Tristan stopped to pull his cell out.

"Emmett, it's Tristan."

Rory kept walking.

"I'm going to bring the car around."

Tristan nodded and continued his conversation. Rory unlocked the car remotely and slid into the leather interior. When she pulled up to the curb where he stood, he was just putting his phone away. He got into the passenger side with relatively little trouble given the amount of practice he had at it.

She watched him as he put his seat belt on and stared straight ahead out the window, looking as if he was in deep concentration. She guided the car through the parking lot and out onto towards the highway, glancing over at him from time to time. His expression didn't change.

"Is everything all right?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"You talked to Emmett. Is everything all right?"

He shrugged.

"Yeah, everything's fine."

"Well, I was just wondering since you're acting all..."

"I don't think we should study tonight," he interrupted.

"What?" she asked in surprise. They had studied after school almost every night since he had gotten hurt.

He looked out the window again, distractedly, not responding. Meanwhile, Rory's mind was trying to figure out the reason for the sudden change in routine. It obviously had something to do with the phone call.

"We're probably going to have another pop quiz in calc," she reasoned, hoping for an explanation.

"Yeah," he sighed, his gaze still fixed out the window.

Whatever was going on, Rory realized she wasn't going to get an answer so she turned her attention back to driving. Fifteen minutes later, they were pulling into the long, circular driveway of the DuGrey estate and coasting up to the front door, only to be blocked by an expensive sedan that was already parked there. Rory had never seen the car before and looked over at Tristan.

"Whose car is that?"

He stared blankly at the car for a minute.

"That's my dad's," he replied and got out of the car before Rory could ask anything else.

TRISTAN'S HOUSE

Tristan wasn't yet downstairs when Rory showed up the next morning. Glancing around furtively, she felt a little awkward and it showed.

"What's gotten into you, child?" asked Hilda.

Rory sat in her usual spot at the kitchen table.

"Is Tristan's dad here?"

"No, he left early this morning."

"Oh," replied Rory, relaxing.

"Why would that make you act so?" said Hilda, setting a mug of coffee onto the table for Rory.

Rory took her jacket off and sat down.

"I don't know. I just kind of got the impression that Tristan didn't want me to meet him."

"I see," replied Hilda, brow creasing.

Rory noticed her expression and became curious.

"Is there any reason why Tristan wouldn't want me to meet him?"

Before Hilda could reply, Tristan entered the room.

"Good morning," he greeted tiredly.

"Morning," responded Rory.

"Good morning," said Hilda cheerily. "Sit down with Rory there. The quiche is almost done."

He joined Rory at the table and then rubbed his eyes yawning.

"Late night?" queried Rory.

"What?"

"With your dad. Did you stay up late with him or something?"

"No, not really."

"Then why so tired?"

"Stayed up late studying."

"I could've helped you," said Rory, confused. "I usually do."

Tristan didn't respond. He just rubbed his eyes again and sighed.

"Are we going to study tonight?" she asked.

"Why wouldn't we?"

"I don't know. Maybe another relative would show up. A cousin, an uncle, or how about an evil twin? Oh wait, you're the evil one. How about your nice twin?"

He looked at her, too tired to react. Hilda set their breakfasts in front of them.

"Eat before it gets cold," she ordered.

Tristan dug in but Rory wasn't quite finished with her questioning.

"How is your dad?"

He almost choked on his orange juice.

"My dad?"

"Yes, your dad. The guy who was here last night. I assume you spent some quality time with him."

He wiped his mouth on a napkin

"Well, you know what they say about assuming..."

"Yes, it makes an ass out of you..."

"And me," he finished.

"That's what I said."

Tristan closed his eyes in tired frustration. He didn't want to argue with her. Opening his eyes, he dropped the napkin onto his plate.

"I'm not hungry," he said and got up.

Rory sat there for a moment and felt kind of bad. It wasn't really any of her business. What he did or didn't choose to tell her was of no consequence to her. She decided to just leave it alone.

CHILTON

That decision lasted all of two boring class periods that failed to distract her enough from her thoughts. On the way to third period, her curiosity got the better of her.

"Is your dad a lawyer?" asked Rory.

He was baffled, thinking she had let it go.

"Huh?"

"Is your dad a lawyer?"

"Yes."

"Does he defend criminals or something? Mob bosses?"

"What? No!" he said. "What is your deal?"

"I'm just curious. You never talk about your family. Then your dad shows up and suddenly I'm dismissed."

He snorted at her statement.

"I don't see my dad very often, Rory."

"Why?"

Tristan was getting more and more irritated with her inquisition.

"Why do you care?"

"Like I said, I'm curious."

Tristan stopped and just stared at her in exhaustion.

"You wanted to meet my dad?"

"Well, you know my mom."

Gritting his teeth, Tristan took out his cell phone and began to dial, puzzling Rory.

"My dad is a member of the New York state bar, yes, but he doesn't work as an attorney," explained Tristan. "He's the CFO of a corporation headquartered in New York City."

He turned his attention to the phone.

"Hi, Mary Ann, is my dad there?"

Rory's jaw dropped in shock at what he was doing.

"No," he continued. "It will only take a second. Thanks."

Rory waved her arms to get his attention.

"What are you doing?" she whispered frantically.

"Wha... Oh, hey, dad. No, nothing's wrong. There's just someone who wanted to meet you last night and didn't get a chance. Her name is Rory Gilmore. Here she is."

He handed the phone to Rory. She glared at him and he returned her look with an equally annoyed one of his own. She slowly took the phone and held it to her ear.

"Um..hello?" said Rory.

"Rory Gilmore?" the deep voice greeted her.

"Yes."

"It's very nice to speak with you. You're friends with Tristan?"

"Sometimes."

Mr. DuGrey chuckled.

"That's very honest of you."

"I'm the one who drives him to school."

"Ah, you're the girl. Don't you help with his homework as well? His grades have really improved. Thank you for helping my son."

"Oh, um, you're welcome."

"I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to meet you last night. I don't get to Hartford very often and generally have to leave just as quickly. I'm glad Tristan has someone like you around who cares about him."

"Oh, well..."

"Make sure you keep him in line."

The bell rang.

"Is that the bell for class?" asked Mr. DuGrey.

"Yeah, we're late."

"Well, there are worse things. But you better get going all the same. It was nice to meet you, Rory. Have a good day at school."

"Thank you."

"Good bye."

"Bye."

She turned off the phone and handed it back to Tristan.

"Well?" he prodded.

"Your dad seems like a nice guy."

"He is a nice guy. What did you expect?"

What did Rory expect? She wasn't exactly sure but she was more focused on his dad's assertion that she cared about Tristan. Did she care? Well, of course she cared. She cared about a lot of people. It didn't mean anything. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"So, what about your mom?" she asked.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

"Ughh," he mumbled, before turning away from her and heading down the hall.

PHYSICAL THERAPY CLINIC

Rory dropped the inquiry about his parents. In fact, she began to let go of a lot of things with him. He just seemed to have become more sensitive. Because of this, Rory wasn't surprised to see Tristan come out of therapy with a scowl on his face. However, it did actually seem more pronounced than usual.

"What's wrong?" she asked casually, leading the way to the car.

"Nothing."

"Okay," she replied easily. If he didn't want to talk about it, she wasn't going to press him. However, it seemed he did want to talk about it.

"I think my therapist got her certification in medieval torture rather than physical therapy."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it hurts."

"She's trying to make you better."

"She's trying to make me tell her the coordinates to nuclear missile silos."

"Can you be any more dramatic?"

"Yes," he replied. "Would you like to see?"

"No."

"Don't make me go back there," he drawled dramatically, joking for the first time in a long time. "The colonel...(sniff) she asks me to do the most unspeakable things."

Rory rolled her eyes at his display.

"You mean like 'point your toes'?"

"Yes," he pretended to sob. "Point my toes. God, how can anybody be so cruel?"

"When it comes to you, I can relate," she mumbled.

"What?" he said, suddenly turning serious.

"Nothing."

"No, what did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Rory..."

"You just... You have a tendency to drive people a little crazy that's all."

He was stung by her confession. It wasn't that what she said was all that mean. She had said worse things to him in the past. But this wasn't the past. He didn't know when it had actually started but every dig, every slightly negative comment that she directed his way began to accumulate. Each became an added weight on his already heavy heart that sank him into further melancholy. He was more tired than usual. He was grumpier than usual. He was more distant than he had ever been. And Rory noticed.

Rory had definitely noticed but didn't feel the need to investigate. It was Tristan DuGrey after all. Most likely his demeanor could be attributed it to his injury. She figured that he would feel better when he could do things for himself again. But strangely, his mood of late seemed to be worsening. What's more, it also seemed to be contagious. Silence overtook them both as it so often seemed to do of late.

STARS HOLLOW

The weekend arrived and Saturday was over before they knew it. Sunday brought Tristan and more brownies with coffee. To the untrained eye, it was just a boring session of academics. But to the enlightened eye of one Lorelai Gilmore, it was a little too boring. Something was going on. They usually argued and challenged each other right up until they dropped him off at his house. What she witnessed bordered on, dare she say it, civility. It made no sense. They each seemed hesitant to say the wrong thing to the other. She wondered what it meant but realized she would have to ponder it later. At the moment she had other things on her mind.

Lorelai was annoyed with her own mother, for the usual reasons, so she decided she wanted to make a point at their weekly Sunday dinner. On the way to Hartford, Lorelai pulled up to Doose's Market and sent Rory on a small mission while she and Tristan waited in the Jeep.

Rory walked in and scanned the aisles. It didn't take long before she found what she was looking for. But before she could make it to the cashier, she was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Rory."

Rory turned to see the tall, handsome boy she had known so well.

"Dean, hi."

She hadn't seen him in so long, she forgot that he actually might be working.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Um, mom offered to bring something for dinner at my grandparents. And here it is," she said, holding up the bag. "Cool Ranch Doritos."

"I bet your grandparents will love that."

"Yeah, I guess that's sort of the point."

They stood there awkwardly for a minute.

"So, you look good," commented Dean.

"Thanks, so do you. New apron?"

"Oh, yeah, you like?" he replied and did a little twirl to model it.

"Love it. It brings out the spinach in your teeth."

"What? Do I...?"

"I'm kidding."

"Oh," he smiled.

The requisite awkwardness settled in.

"You know, I've missed you," said Dean.

"Yeah, I've...missed you too... in that sort of comfortable, 'forget he's the boyfriend that dumped me' kind of way."

He dropped his eyes in contrition.

"Yeah, well. I'm sorry..."

"I'm not looking for an apology."

"I'd like to anyway," he insisted.

"Okay, if you must."

He smiled briefly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I really am."

"Good."

"I never wanted to hurt you."

"I never wanted you to hurt me either," said Rory. "But you did."

"You hurt me too, Rory."

"Oh, yeah. I guess I did," she admitted. "I'm sorry."

"Okay," said Dean. "Apologies are out of the way. So, are we good now?"

Rory shrugged.

"Sure."

"That sounded convincing."

"Well, what do you want?"

"I don't know. Something more concrete."

"You want a cinder block?"

"How about just a hug?"

Meanwhile, Lorelai and Tristan sat in the jeep parked just around the corner from the store.

"Pearl Jam," said Tristan.

"The Pixies," said Lorelai.

"Poe."

"Porno for Pyros."

"Poison."

"Prince."

"Oh, um, let's see.....p..p..p...Perry comma Steve."

"I beg your pardon."

"Steve Perry. He was lead singer for Journey."

"Journey starts with a 'J'."

"He went solo, didn't he?"

"I don't know."

"I'm sure he did."

"Fine. Next letter. You start."

"What are we on? 'Q'? Wait, what's taking Rory so long? We should never have made it to 'Q'? She was just going in for chips."

"I'll go look for her," he offered, opening in the door and getting out onto his crutches.

"What? No, get back in here Tiny Tim. I can go get her."

Tristan chuckled slightly.

"I'm not completely useless," he replied, shutting the door.

"Oh, honey, I didn't mean..." sighed Lorelai.

Tristan made his way around the building and had his hand on the front door when he looked through the window to see Rory and Dean sharing an embrace. He couldn't seem to catch his breath. It was like someone had punched him in the gut. He turned and headed unsteadily back to the jeep as Rory and Dean let go of each other.

"Rory, I know things are a lot different between us now," said Dean. "But I want you to know, if you ever need anything, all you have to do is say the word, okay?"

"Okay," replied Rory. "You too."

"Okay."

"Well, I better get going. I'll see you around."

"Yeah, see ya."

Rory paid for the chips and was not far behind Tristan as he got back into the jeep.

"She's coming," he murmured to Lorelai.

"Are you okay?" she asked, noticing his detached demeanor.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Rory appeared from around the corner and slid into the seat behind her mother.

"What took you so long?" asked Lorelai. "Trouble at the cool ranch?"

"Lots," replied Rory. "Cattle drive came in early and smashed all the chips. So not cool. Had to rassle a bag out of the slightly less cool corral. Hopefully grandma won't know the difference."

"If grandma knew the difference between cool and slightly less cool, I would be raiding her closet not yours."

Lorelai put the jeep in gear and took off towards Hartford. Rory noted Tristan's new somberness and might have addressed it with him had her mother not been present. But since she was present, Rory lapsed into her own silence. Lorelai didn't understand what was going on with either of them. She didn't want to meddle so she valiantly held her tongue despite the fact that the caffeine molecules kept trying to engage the meddling part of her brain. Unfortunately, keeping those impulses at bay allowed other impulses more freedom, so she sang Journey's greatest hits for the rest of the ride to Hartford.

CHILTON

After the incident at the store, Tristan had become more and more depressed. Rory was very aware of this downtrend but couldn't seem to bring herself to ask him about it. The only things she could attribute it to were either his injury or.....herself. It pained her to think that she could somehow be the cause. She didn't know what else to do except be as helpful as she could and do her best to snap him out of it. But he didn't respond to her jokes. Or her usual chiding. He didn't even seem to notice when she actively reached out to him by fixing his collar or straightening his tie. She only received his calm tone or a blank stare in response.

Several days had passed in this way when Rory and Tristan were heading out to his car after school. Despite Rory being weighed down by carrying his bag as well as her own backpack, he was the one lagging behind. She got their stuff into the car just as he appeared at her side.

"Did you grab 'Exodus'?" he asked.

"No."

"I need it for Lit."

"You can't go one day without Leon Uris?"

"Can you go one day without coffee?"

He had a point.

"Why didn't you say something before? I didn't see it in your locker."

"I didn't see it either but I thought you may have already packed it."

"Are you sure you had it?"

"I just checked it out from the library today. You don't remember seeing it at all?"

"No," she said, and then considered him for a second. "Are you back on your medication?"

"Rory, I need it."

"Okay. I'll go back in and look for it..."

"No, I'll go back in."

"You're too slow. I'll go," said Rory, but Tristan was already on his way.

"Slow and steady wins the race," he replied.

"Slow and steady arrives late to physical therapy," she called after him.

"Then I'll miss it. Big deal."

"I said we'd be late. I didn't say anything about missing it."

Her last statement was missed as Tristan re-entered school.

PHYSICAL THERAPY CLINIC

Despite Tristan's sluggishness, they did make it to therapy on time, but only after some creative driving on Rory's part. She dropped him off at the door and gave him a shove for good measure. By the time she had parked and made it in, he was already in his session. Rory settled into her usual spot in the waiting room and pulled out her latest book. She almost got through two chapters when she was suddenly interrupted.

"Excuse me," asked a woman. "Did you come here with Tristan DuGrey?"

"Yes," replied Rory. "Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, no, no. I'm Tristan's therapist, Diane."

She held out her hand and Rory shook it, confused by the introduction.

"I'm Rory."

"Nice to meet you, Rory," she said with a smile. "Nothing's wrong. Tristan's being a little stubborn and I was just wondering if you'd be willing to come in and maybe help a little."

"Oh, well, um... Sure, I guess."

She followed the woman to a room where Tristan was slouched in a wheelchair sitting in front of a set of parallel bars.

"Okay, Tristan," said Diane. "If you're not going to walk for me, I thought maybe you'd walk for someone else."

He looked up and was surprised to see Rory standing hesitantly behind Diane.

"Rory, could you please stand at the other end of the bars?"

Rory quietly did as she was asked and Diane watched the look of panic that crossed Tristan's face.

Rory stood at the end of the bars and stared uncertainly at Tristan.

Diane walked over to Tristan and gently tugged at his arm, bringing him out of his reverie.

"It helps if you stand up," she directed, guiding him to his feet.

Tristan concentrated on getting himself upright and in a standing position before directing his attention back to Rory, whose expression had not changed.

"Put some weight on your right foot," instructed Diane.

Tristan did so and then winced.

"It hurts," he breathed low.

"It's going to hurt a little. That's part of the healing process. Now let's take a step forward."

Diane saw that Tristan was hesitating so she looked over at Rory for some help. Rory took the hint but found herself hesitant as well.

"Tristan..." she offered weakly.

He looked up and their eyes met. Diane saw the panicked look in Tristan's eyes again but missed it in Rory's.

"Tristan," commanded Diane. "Take a step."

He lowered his head.

"God damn it! I said it hurts!" he roared. "Why the hell can't you understand that? I can't do this. It fucking hurts, all right?"

He shuffled backwards and dropped into the wheelchair.

"I don't need to take this shit!" he continued as he rolled his way over to his crutches. "You don't know how it feels! Jesus Christ, I'm in pain! What kind of therapist are you?"

He got up onto his crutches and headed for the door.

"Tristan..." said Diane as she moved towards him.

"No!" he cried. "Get the fuck away from me!"

He exited the room and Diane sighed heavily. Rory remained planted at her assigned spot. She looked down and realized her knuckles were nearly white from her grip on the bars. Her whole body was tensed up. She released her hands and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," said Rory.

"It's okay," Diane replied. "This happens sometimes."

"Oh, well..." Rory stammered making her own way to the door.

"Rory, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Um, okay," she shrugged.

"Does Tristan do his therapy at home?"

"I've never seen him do it."

"But you would know? You spend a lot of time with him?"

"Uh, well, sort of," stuttered Rory. "But only since he got hurt."

"Since he got hurt?" she repeated, suddenly struck with by an idea. "Huh. That would actually make more sense."

"I'm sorry," said Rory, in confusion.

"Tristan's not the first to ever act this way. In fact, it's more common than you might think."

"What is?"

Rory looked at her for further explanation.

"He likes that you take care of him."

Rory was stunned by the implication.

"I don't take care of him."

"I'm not saying that you... I mean... I don't know what kind of relationship you two have..."

"We don't have a relationship!"

"I didn't mean to suggest..."

"It's more complicated than you think," Rory tried to explain. "It's not just because of his injury. I asked him first to help me...to help me learn football. Then we had a chem test and we've been studying..."

"Rory..."

"We don't even really get along. It's not like what you're thinking. It's... It's not."

"Okay, look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I could be wrong. It's just... The fact of the matter is, Tristan is not getting better. And it's not due to any physical reason. I can show you his scans. Tristan can do what I ask him to do. He just doesn't want to. There has to be a reason he doesn't want to. I'm just saying that one possibility is that he might not want to get better because getting better means losing...well, whatever kind of relationship you two do have. Does that make sense?"

Rory only stared at her, trying to absorb what was being suggested.

"I'm sorry, Rory," added Diane when Rory didn't answer. "I just want to help Tristan."

Rory silently turned and exited the room.

06>>>