It was raining. He always thought of her when it rained. For some reason he associated the rain with how she looked on that spring day when he helped her shut off the neighbor's sprinklers. Young, perfect, pure. No makeup, run water drops falling down her face, darkening her hair, and making her eyes sparkle like blue crystals.

It was a Saturday night in New York in the middle of October and unlike most young people who were trying to get their last partying done before the cold weather, Jess decided to stay in with his books. He wondered when he would see her again. Her visits were sporadic and seldom, and she came in different states every time. He hadn't seen in her in over a year. This worried him.

She was still with that trust fund baby who was far too arrogant to be anything she deserved. The last time she came things were not going well. Logan had a temper when he was drunk and didn't seem to understand the demands of her career conflicting with his demands of her duties as girlfriend of the heir to the huntzberger fortune. But she loved him. Or so she said. So she stayed with him, the man who would hold her back, instead of the man who would set her free.

Although he was thinking about her, she was the last person he was expecting when he heard a knock on his door. He got up from his bed, the only place other than the kitchen table to sit in his one bedroom apartment, and walked to the door. When he opened it, the sight before him left him sick to his stomach and speechless. She stood there in a beautiful royal blue cocktail dress, dripping from the rain, wearing bruises from her cheek bone to her wrists to match her outfit. She had three huge bags with her, that she had clearly been carrying around without any help.

"Hi." She said in a small voice. He looked up at her perfect face, shattered by the strength of his hand.

"Jesus," he said, "Come on, come in and sit down, I'll grab your bags." He brought her stuff into his bedroom, and took a moment to gather himself. He ran his hands through his hair and paced back and forth. That bastard. Ruining such a beautiful strong woman. But she came here, he thought. She came here to stay, he thought again, looking at her bags. He walked back out into the kitchen and saw her standing by the door. She had been crying, but now she seemed tired and upset.

"I'm sorry to come, it's just, I didn't know where else to go.." He put his hand up

"You should never be sorry to come, I always want you here, you know that." Her gaze lowered to the ground. "You want something to change into? I know this place looks really run down, but there's always hot water if you want to shower or something."

"Yeah," she whispered, running her hands up and down the sides of her arms, "A shower would be good." He showed her to the bathroom, and shut the door to give her privacy. He realized she didn't have towels and knocked softly. "You can come in," she said. He opened the door the set the towels on the sink,

"You'll need these," he said. He turned to leave,

"wait!" she said. He stopped. "Can you help me un-zipper the back of my dress?" She turned around and held up her hair. When his hands touch her skin for the first time since she had arrived it was electricity. As he un-zippered the dress, it all disappeared with what was before him. Bruises and finger marks and a few small scars spread down her back and around her rib cage. She winced.

"What has he done to you," he whispered. She began to cry. He rested his hands on the sides of her shoulders and began to softly kiss the bruises by her neck, and then down her back. When he finished trying to heal her wounds with his kisses she turned to face him.

"Jess." He pulled her body in gently and held her close to him. She let her tears flow into his chest and melted into him. After a few minutes he pulled back from her, turning the shower on and turning to her again to hold her face in his hands.

"It's going to be ok," he said. He lowered her straps down and helped her out of her dress, and then began to undress himself. The bathroom was warm now from steam and they both stepped into the water. It was like a mirror image of seven years ago standing in the sprinklers, except for this time they completely belonged to one another. He let her wash her body, ridding it of the feeling of his hands on it. But he washed her hair for her along with his, she giggled when the suds fell into her eyes.

When they were done, Jess wrapped Rory in a towel. She wrapped her hair and watched him wrap a towel around his own body. He was a man now. This Jess was far from the youthful boy she loved so much when she was young. He had changed. He looked a little more tired, his body was a little more defined, a little more stubble grew in on his face, while his hair seemed much less groomed. She loved him. Everything about him. He had changed physically yes, but he had also changed on the inside as well. She could see it in the way he lived. Neatly, and independently. He grew up, and out of his rebellion. He had responsibilities, and he kept up with them. He wasn't so angry anymore, he was just content with the way his life was going. A little lonely maybe. No one ever seemed to measure up, so it was pointless to keep them around for more than one night. He didn't see it as using, more just being honest. They walked into his room, and he threw her one of his old t-shirts he'd outgrown and some sweats. Her little body was still swimming in them, but he liked the way they looked on her. He liked the way he looked on her. He threw some on too, and watched her rummage for a hairbrush. She ran it through her long brown hair and then turned to him.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked.

"Because I can't believe you're here." He said. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her again.

"I've missed you so much," he whispered into her neck, "and I can't believe what he's done to you. I will kill him if I ever see him again. Oh god, I would kill him-"

"Shhhh," she said, "I just want to forget him, and everything that's happened. Just stay with me, don't ever leave me. If you killed him who would I have left? I don't want to be alone any-" With that he kissed her. At first it was soft and sweet, but he deepened in with passion thinking about how much he loved her. When their kiss broke he lingered.

"I will never leave you alone, ever. I love you Rory."

"I love you too."