disclaimer in part 1
The Voices in Your Head
by snoflaik
_ _ _

Part 3: The Window is Opened



“So do you want to walk or drive?” as Tristan walked out of the bathroom.
Rory looked at him as he walked towards her. His blue eyes and blonde hair
were set off by his shirt. He looked more at ease in his new clothing. *Wow
he’s a cutie. Duh! * answered the voice in her head again *You keep quiet.*

“Let’s walk then you can see the town more,” replied Rory. She was wearing
jeans with a plain white t-shirt and he thought that he never had seen her
look so beautiful.

“Sounds good. Maybe a little fresh air will do you good.” answered Tristan
as they walked out the door and began their journey.

Rory shook her head at him. “All doctory again.” Of course Rory really liked
this new aspect of his personality. Who knew Tristan DuGrey could be so
protective?

“Sorry it’s a habit.”

“I think its cute.” added Rory

“Oh do you know? So does that mean that you think I’m cute just on the
inside or on the outside as well?” asked Tristan with a little grin in her
direction.

She flushed a little but recovered quickly, “Always fishing for a compliment
eh?”

“No just trying to get you to admit what I already know you think about me.”

“Oh and what would that be?”

“You think I’m a god,” replied Tristan with a smile.

“In your dreams,” retorted Rory.

“How did you know that?” answered Tristan with mock shock, “Have you been
sneaking into my room late at night and sharing my dreams again?”

“Damn it I thought that I would leave no trace. Well Tristan you’ve found me
out.” She replied sarcastically.

“See,” answered Tristan with a wide grin, “I knew you’d admit to it
eventually.”

“You can read me like a book,” replied Rory grinning in return.

“So here we are,” said Rory as she walked up the steps to the diner, “Luke’s
Diner a.k.a. A Coffee Junkies Dream”

“The sign says ‘Hardware’.”

“Don’t ask.”

“Point taken.”

The two walked in and went to the counter. Rory noticed that Luke was not
at the bar.

“Hmm . . . that’s strange.” She mumbled to herself under her breath as she
looked around.

“What is?” asked Tristan

“Huh?” replied Rory, the realizing that he had heard her,” Oh Luke’s not
here today, Tony’s working.”

“Yeah he wasn’t here when the nurse had called him earlier for your
emergency contact.”

“He’s been here everyday since I can remember.”

Tristan shrugged. “Maybe something came up?”

“Yeah maybe.”

“So what’s good to eat here?”

“Well the coffee is excellent and I usually get a burger and fries.”

“Uh uh uh non of that today missy, not when your sick.”

“You know what was cute five minutes ago is quickly becoming not as much so.
You try to take me from my coffee and I won’t be held responsible for my
actions.”

“Feisty aren’t we?” relied Tristan. All he got was a glare in response.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“I want to be an amoeba,” said Tristan as they sat back at home enjoying the
food they had gotten at Luke’s

“Pardon?” asked Rory, “Why would you want to be that?”

“Amoeba’s don’t have to go to Chilton.”

“True, considering one-celled organisms can’t think.”

“Although then, I guess they can’t be like ‘hey look at that hot amoeba over
there,’ either.”

“Amoeba’s are asexual.”

“Christ that’s depressing,” replied Tristan.

Rory laughed at his stricken expression. “God If you would have told me
that someday I would be sitting across from Tristan DuGrey discussing what
it would be like to be an amoeba I would have laughed in their face. Amazing
how things change.”

“Not all things,” answered Tristan quietly.

Rory looked at him while he was looking down at his food and made a quick
decision.

“Tristan?”

“Yeah?” he asked lifting his head up to look at her.

“Do you think that we could start over?”

He looked at her for a moment while trying to decide what his answer would
be. He decided that he was an idiot to even have to pause to think about
what his answer would be.

“Of Course.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Replied Rory with a wide smile.

“Tristan Janlen DuGrey,” said Tristan while holding out his hand.

“Lorelei Leigh Gilmore but everyone calls me Rory,” answered Rory while
shaking the offered hand.

“Ok let’s cut out the rest of the conversation where we pretend like we
don’t know each other and jump ahead to being friends.”

“Gladly.”

“So how are you feeling?”

“Much better. That coffee really hit the spot,” answered Rory challengingly.

“Because of our previously stipulated new friendship, I’m not even going to
touch that one.”

“Oh you’re not going soft on me now, DuGrey?” asked Rory with a brow raised.

“I pick my battles, Gilmore.”

“Just checking. So now that we are friends, I have just realized that I know
nothing about you as a person or of your family.”

Tristan sighed. He really didn’t like talking about those people whom he was
forced to call family members. It only brought him pain to think about his
empty childhood and non-existent love. But he thought that he could trust
Rory.

“Ok”, he replied somewhat reluctantly, “What do you want to know? Actually,
I don’t know that much about you so you have to answer too.”

“Fine. Let’s start with birthdays. Mine’s July 5,” answered Rory and waited
for his answer.

Tristan sighed deeply. “June 10.” He answered quietly.

“Hey that’s Saturday! I should take you somewhere to celebrate! Seventeen is
a big one.”

“Ok I guess.” Replied Tristan dispassionately refusing to meet her eyes.

Rory was hurt by his response but she missed judged why he was
unenthusiastic. “Well alright, I guess you don’t have to do anything with
me if you don’t want to.”

Tristan heard her hurt tone and immediately felt the need to explain himself
to her. “No Rory its not you. I would love to do anything with you
anytime.” He added with a small smile. “It’s just that ... “ he stopped and
sighed again.

Rory saw the hurt and pain in his eyes. “Its ok Tristan you can tell me.”

“Well my birthday doesn’t exactly bring back the best memories for me.” He
stopped and looked out the window. * How can I say this to her? Her life has
been filled with love while mine has been stark and empty except for one
person. Grand. The only one who ever understood me, who ever wanted to know
who I was. Everything was fine whenever he was there. Then he was gone and
my life fell apart. How can I make her understand? *

Rory felt his sadness. She wanted desperately to pull him into her arms and
make his pain go away. She couldn’t explain why he had touched her so
deeply. But she saw the inner struggle with in him as he looked straight at
her for a moment. Can I trust her? Should I trust her? Should I open myself
up? She prayed that the answers would be yes. She wanted to know. She
needed to know.

Almost imperceptibly, he nodded his head and then began, “He was my best
friend, my grandfather. I would visit him almost everyday. It was a chance
for me to get away. Away from my huge empty house, away from my arguing
parents, away from the screaming and the crying. He understood me like no
one else. He was always there always waiting for me. We would talk about
everything and anything or sometimes nothing at all just sitting there
enjoying each other’s company in the comfortable silence of the beautiful
garden which he tended by hand with my help or in the quiet study where we
would be shut off from the world, just us. Every year on my birthday, he
would take me on a trip. Just the two of us, for two weeks. We would go
around the country and the world. To New York, to Philadelphia San
Francisco, Boston, London, Paris, Rome, Cairo. It didn’t matter much where
we went since we were together. Oh the adventures we had. Skiing on the
Alps, riding camels across the desert, sitting in the Louver for hours
staring at one painting, burning it into memory. His favorite city was
Paris. He used to say, ‘Hartford is where I live, but Paris is my home,’ ”
Tristan chuckled, lost within himself.

Rory smiled at him. His eyes blazed with memories and with love he had for
his grandfather. Rory had never seen him look so relaxed and so happy. As he
continued, the light was replaced with pain and sadness.

“Then five years ago everything changed. He was diagnosed with cancer. The
doctors gave him only a few months to live but I knew that he was strong and
that he would fight. He was still relatively healthy for about six months
and then went down hill from there. He grew weaker everyday. I visited him
everyday still and we would talk and go on as if nothing had changed. You
have no idea how hard it was for me to see him change. He was always the
strong one. I would take his strength with me when I left so that I could
make it through the day, But then the roles shifted and he was the one
drawing his strength from me. About a week before my birthday, he told me
that we were going to Paris again. His home. I was excited to be going but
knew that this was probably the last time he would ever see his favorite
city. He seemed to grow stronger that week. I thought that just the thought
of going home made him fight even harder.”

Tristan stopped and took a deep breath; the next part was even harder for
him to tell.

“ Then the day before my birthday, he had to go into the hospital. I sat by
his side the whole day just talking about all the things we loved most about
Paris. When it was time for me to leave, I gave him a hug and said ‘I love
you’ and he smiled and said, ‘I’ll be home soon.’ He died the next afternoon
with me by his bedside. After he was gone, I was lost. Not only had I lost
my grandfather, I had lost my best friend, the one who knew everything about
my life and about me. He knew my secrets and my dreams.” Tristan spun the
silver band on his middle finger. “He gave this to me for my birthday that
year. It had been his father’s and then his. I never take it off. It’s a
reminder of him and a reminder that someday I’ll make it back to Paris and
I’ll be home too.”

Rory’s eyes never left Tristan’s face as he told his story. She knew just
how hard it was for him to lay his soul bare to a person whom he thought
hated him. He wasn’t used to sharing himself like this to anyone and Rory
knew it. By the time he was done, she had tears in her eyes. She took his
hand into hers, and looked at him in the eyes,

“You’ll be home one day Tristan I can feel it.”

He smiled at her and blinked away the tears. He didn’t like looking so weak
in front of her. He moved his hand and leaned back.

“Ok now that we have gotten through my sob story. Next question.”

“Tristan?”

“What kind of a question is that?” he asked jokingly. She gave him a look.

“Would you really mind if we did something on Saturday? I mean all my
memories of birthdays are happy. I just want you to have some too.” She
asked with such sincerity that he couldn’t help but smile and say yes.

“But I have a question for you.” Her look and her words added to the fact
that he was already baring his soul to her made him decide to go for broke.
“Why?”

“You’re going to have to expatiate more on that one, sorry.”

He looked down at the table again and drew in a deep breath.

“Why would you want to spend time with someone you already admitted that you
hate?”

continues