Rating: G
Character: Emily
Summary: Emily questions herself and her decisions.
Disclaimer: The characters from "Gilmore Girls" are owned by the WB, Amy Sherman-Palladino, and Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions.


by malka

How could she have let this happen?

The thought rings through her mind, a constant mantra. A hateful reminder of her failures. And the worst part is, wherever she runs to, whatever words she tries to deflect it with, it's not enough. It's always there. Never ceasing, never silencing, never giving her a moment of rest, a moment of peace.

How could she have let this happen?

Everything always perfect, always proper. Elbows off the table. Speak clearly. Don't slouch. Always perfect, always...

And the way they look at her now. Sympathetic glances veiling secret loathing. Condescension. Whispering that stops once she walks into a room. The barely concealed snide remarks, jokes at her expense.

Sometimes words helped. If they were spoken aloud, in the right tone, the right...mannerisms accompanying them, sometimes that was enough for the second of relief. The reassurance that no, it wasn't her fault. She was as much a victim here as the ones forced to expell fake smiles in the face of such an unthinkable sensation. She'd always done right, always perfect, always proper. It wasn't her fault.

But then she would turn and look at her. Right into her eyes, never once intimidated, never backing down. With that look of....dissappointment? Fear? Pity?


And then it would rush back at her, the full force of its burden threatening to overpower her. Once again taking over her mind and soul.

How could she have let this happen?

And the answer stares back at her from the spotless silver tray on the table, from the windows now revealing dark skies, from the crystal goblet in her hand. The answer.

She'd done everything right. Everything by the book. Everything she was taught to do, to teach.

But it hadn't been right for her. She'd needed something different, and for the life of her, she still didn't know what it was. She didn't know who she was. She never had. She'd failed. How could she have let this happen?

How couldn't she? She hadn't even seen it coming.