What I Wouldn't Give

Disclaimer: Not mine. Oh, and the song is "I Don't Know You Anymore" by Savage Garden.

A/N: Okay, this is a songfic. I don't particularly like songfics. I think this one sucks. But I wrote it, and I told people they could read it, so here it is. I'd dedicate it to Ali, but that'd be cruel. If possible, I recommend reading it while listening to the song. It sucks slightly less that way. -Becka

He loosened his grip on the steering wheel. Immediately, the dull ache in his hands started to fade. Color began to return to the knuckles. He stretched his fingers out, freeing them of the tension. His gaze caught on the glint of gold around his finger, and his jaw tightened. His eyes shot to the road again. His fingers curled back into place. He wasn't sure what he was doing.

Her voice had sounded forced when he'd called. That first word had escaped his lips when she'd answered, and her tone had shifted from genial to jaded. She didn't want to hear from him. He'd almost hung up. But she hadn't, so he held on, despite the sudden weight of the phone.

-

I would like to visit you for a while

Get away and out of this city

Maybe I shouldn't have called

But someone had to be the first to break

-

"I need to see you," he'd forced out, cutting to the chase before the threadbare string she was dangling snapped and fell away.

-

We can go sit on your back porch

Relax

Talk about anything

It don't matter

-

He added, "Please."

"Jess," she'd breathed. Her tone told him not to bother. It was too late.

"I know," he accepted. "I just… I'm coming."

"You shouldn't."

"Rory," he said simply. "I'm coming."

-

I'll be courageous if you can pretend

-

She was silent, then, in barely a whisper, "Okay."

He almost hadn't heard it. Her voice had sounded tiny, a million miles away but stretching across the distance to reach him.

-

That you've forgiven me

-

"Okay," he'd whispered to the dial tone.

-

Cuz I don't know you anymore

-

He grabbed his keys off the counter before the phone even had time to settle into its cradle. Glancing around the apartment, he ran a hand through his hair. Dishes in the sink. Clothes on the floor. Ashtrays full of cigarette butts. Empty bookshelves.

-

I don't recognize this place

The picture frames have changed

And so has your name

-

He headed out the door.

-

We don't talk much anymore

We keep running from the pain

-

The tires screeched as he left the parking lot.

-

But what I wouldn't give to see your face again

-

The scenery flashed by outside the window. Bright blurs of green and blue.

-

Springtime in the city

-

Spring had come weeks ago, and he hadn't even noticed. He noticed now.

-

Always such a relief from the winter freeze

-

He rolled down the window and breathed it in. His lungs stung from the unexpected fresh air, straining against the cigarette damage he'd inflicted.

-

The snow was more lonely than cold

If you know what I mean

-

He glanced in the rearview mirror and caught his reflection. Dark, tired circles under bloodshot eyes. Days-old stubble. Hair sticking in every direction. He smirked. Looks like everyone was right; he looked like shit.

-

Everyone's got an agenda

Don't stop

Keep that chin up

-

How many times had he told them to go to hell? He'd lost count. So had they. His eyes met their reflection, and he saw what they'd seen. Focusing back on the road, he breathed.

-

You'll be all right

-

Looking to his left, he switched lanes. Then, stubbornly, he fixed his eyes on the ring around his finger. Forcing himself to look.

-

Can you believe what a year it's been?

-

So much had changed. So much had gone wrong. And that was just him. He knew so little about her. Her life.

-

Are you still the same?

-

The last time he'd seen her, her eyes had been wild. The tears had been lurking just below the surface. But she'd been poised and determined. Determined to get him the hell out.

-

Has your opinion changed?

-

She'd looked beautiful.

-

Cuz I don't know you anymore

-

He knew for certain even now that hadn't changed.

-

I don't recognize this place.

The picture frames have changed

And so has your name

-

But everything else had.

-

We don't talk much anymore

-

He sped up.

-

We keep running from these sentences

-

Wishing it could race him back in time.

-

What I wouldn't give to see your face again

-

"I'm sorry." Would it have been so hard? It could've changed everything.

-

I know I let you down again and again

-

He'd been so fucking proud of her that day. There she was, ripping his heart out with her bare hands, and he'd loved her for it.

-

I know I never really treated you right

-

Standing up for herself. Telling him that love wasn't enough. That he needed to give her more. That he needed to give her him.

-

I've paid the price

-

He'd walked out.

-

I'm still paying for it everyday

-

And she'd refused to let him back in.

-

So maybe I shouldn't have called

-

He'd loved her for that too. Because now he was ready. Really ready. Now that it meant anything. Not that it mattered.

-

Was it too soon to tell?

-

Not that he could prove it.

-

What the hell

It doesn't really matter

How do you redefine something that never really had a name?

-

But he could damn well try. Find the words. Make her see.

-

Has your opinion changed?

-

That he was hers. And she was everything.

-

Cuz I don't know you anymore

-

He pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. She'd planted flowers. He reached down and gently snapped one off. Then he walked to the door. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the key. It felt heavy and light at the same time. He slid it into the lock and turned until he heard the click. Then, soundlessly, he walked in.

-

I don't recognize this place

-

It looked different. She'd rearranged the furniture. Removed his books from the shelves. Removed him from everything. He walked further into the room and looked around. She'd put out new pictures. Her face smiled back at him. Hesitantly, he moved towards it.

-

The picture frames have changed

And so has your name

-

He studied her image closely, learning about this new woman. "Rory Gilmore." She'd changed it back. When she'd answered the phone with her maiden name, his heart had sputtered and collapsed. "Rory Gilmore." This new woman who was no longer his.

-

We don't talk much anymore

-

He let his eyes drift to the other pictures, and then he saw it. It was tucked back, almost out of view. But it was there. He reached out and picked it up with his free hand. God, she had looked so beautiful that day.

-

We keep running from the ache

-

It was dust-free, and he could see the faint mark of one of her fingerprints on the edge of the frame. It was hope.

-

But what I wouldn't give to see your face again

-

He set the picture back into place and started to step back when he felt her enter the room. Instinctively, his eyes turned to her. She looked tired too. Worn. He let himself look at her. Took in the subtle difference in the way her hair was styled. Reacquainted himself with the contours of her face, the blue shade of her eyes.

-

I see your face

-

As he studied her, she remained silent. Then, nervously, she brushed her hair behind her ear, and he saw it. The sparkle of the tiny diamond set in white gold. Still encircling her finger where he'd placed it. He smiled.

Then, hesitantly, he walked towards her. She waited.

He took a deep breath and held out the tulip.

She recognized it immediately and couldn't stop the grin.

Reaching out, she took it, letting her fingers brush across the back of his hand.

"Hey," he whispered.

She met his eyes shyly. "Hey."

-

I see your face.