Boy/girl twins have fascinated Rory (which is me, just so we’re clear, yes, my name is Rory in every universe) since she…well, I, was a wee lass of 14 or thereabouts, when SyFy (then SciFi) aired a new miniseries called Children of Dune. Much of it went over my head, but what struck me and made me keep watching was the relationship between Ghanima and Leto (though James McAvoy’s loveliness didn’t hurt).
So. TOM of Universe Dune has a twin brother. If my older brother still exists, then my twin’s name would most likely be Dean. Cue the laughter of my fellow Gilmore Girls fans.
We would be ridiculously close. I was a big tomboy back then. And the hours I spent playing alone would instead be spent inventing our own secret code and trying to read each other’s minds. I would almost never be alone, which would result in a very different Rory. Dean would draw or paint like our maternal grandmother. I got writing from Mom and our big brother got music from Dad and our paternal grandmother. We would be able to sit in comfortable silence whenever we wanted to. We wouldn’t have many friends aside from each other. Wouldn’t be close to any of them, not truly close.
And things would be better. Just. Overall. Better.
We Were The Same 