DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, or actors, or places or any of that jazz. I wish I owned Milo… but I don't.
Don't Panic
A fanfiction by YouWouldntLikeMe
He wrote me a book. I didn't know what to say. He didn't give me time to anyways. As I was flipping through the pages and trying to regain some sort of conciseness he left. "I'll call you. Or write you. Or something." I couldn't vocalize the need for him to stay. I couldn't vocalize the need for an explanation. I couldn't speak. It was definitely a new feeling. I was Gilmore, talking was a specialty. I was usually quick and intelligent. Instead I was just dumbfounded.
He muttered under his breath as he handed it to me. "I wrote this for you." It wasn't epically long. It was the size of the average novel. But it wasn't an average novel. It was Jess' novel. It was my novel. I read the first page, my breathing became sharp.
"sorry. thank you. love you."
He was clearly waiting for an outburst or a meltdown or something. Sorry. Thank you. Love you. Thank you. Sorry. Rory love you thank. The expectation of a linear thought process was clearly misguided. Thank you. Rory. Write. Book. Sorry. Love you.
I watched as he walked out the door and started to cry.
I walked up to my room. My Burken bag was sitting on the bed stand. I started to laugh through my tears. How did it come to this? That I thought I was in love with someone whose gift to me was a Burken bag. I stared at it. It was pink. It would be perfect for carrying computer cords but that wasn't the purpose of it. It was absurd. All of this. This room wasn't mine. Nor was this bed or these clothes. There were no books in this room. There were no Lorelai or Yale remnants. There was very little that indicated I, Rory Gilmore, lived in that room. I was laughing so hard that I couldn't tell if the tears were from the laughing or crying.
Jess wrote me a book. I hadn't even read it yet and I knew it was the best present I ever received. I glanced at the clock, it was a little after ten. I picked up the phone and dialed as I began to take everything out of my closets. Ring. Ring. I pulled out my laptop and my shoes. Ring. Ring.
"Hello?"
"Mom. Jess wrote me a book. He wrote me a book and I just stood there and stared at him. I couldn't say anything? How was it that I couldn't say anything? It's like genetically impossible for me to run out of things to say. But I flipped open to first page. Wanna know what it said? Sorry. Thank you. Love you. It's on the freaking paper! So I walk up to this room that I was calling mine, but can't be because all the sudden I'm looking around and nothing remotely reminds me of myself. Which is weird, cause I live in this room. So anyways on the bed stand is this beautiful pink bag – a Burken bag that Logan gave me. This stupid expensive bag. And I just start laughing. I'm crying I'm laughing so hard, you know why? Because he told me I couldn't put computer cords in the stupid page. Is that not the most pretentious thing you've ever heard? But I listened to him and I played by the rules and then Jess gives me this book and I miss him and you and Luke and coffee and you and sweatpants and you and my room and Miss Patty and you and Kirk and mom, I want to come home."
"This is Luke and, um, your mom is right here."
Luke stood dumbfounded as he held the phone out for Lorelai.
"It's Rory. Jess wrote a book. Some Jerken bag is pink and she can't put her computer cords in it. She misses you and me and Jess, who wrote her a book. She couldn't talk then, put good lord can she now-" he tried to explain.
Lorelai grabbed the phone out of his hand. "Rory?"
I was sobbing hysterically when she finally said something. "Mom. I love you. Let me come home. Please." It was barely a whisper, strangled by my sobs and the sound of her crying.
"When do you want me to come get you?" Lorelai asked.
"Is now too soon?" I sniffed desperately.
"Now is perfect." Lorelai hung up the phone and turned around to look at Luke who was standing dumbfounded and confused. She walked up to him and let him wrap his arms around her while she sobbed into his chest.
"She's coming home Luke. She's coming home."
"Rory?" I turned around to see my grandmother standing in the door, "are you – what are you doing?" I zipped up my bag, and again I didn't know what to say. I looked at her trying to convey some sort of message with my eyes but it clearly wasn't working. Maybe it was because of how bloodshot and red they were. Maybe it was because she didn't know me. Maybe it was because I didn't know me.
"Rory! Honestly, what are you doing?"
"I'm going home Grandma."
"What do you mean your going home – you are home." Her ignorance didn't surprise me. She didn't want to see I was broken and battered. She refused to see I was lonely and stupid. She didn't want to see Mom was right.
"No. Mom, Stars Hollow, Books," I picked up Jess' book off the bed. Maybe one day I would be able to include him in this list. Maybe. But this was not the time to think about that. "They are home."
"Rory don't do this to us. We took you in. We fed you, we, I gave you a job!" I felt my heart sink. She tried to help, she really did and I couldn't leave without saying thank you. I wouldn't. But I'd lost myself here. I'd lost everything that mattered. It wasn't her fault, but she didn't exactly help the matter.
"You're running away – just like your mother. Are you pregnant? I can't believe it. You're pregnant! This was not how it was supposed to be Rory. You weren't supposed to turn out like your mother." She was hysterical now.
"I'm not pregnant. I'm not running away. I'm going home." I was talking in sentences. That was an improvement. "Staying here, with you – working with DAR, quitting Yale, Logan, that was running away." I was trying to be delicate. I love my Grandmother but she was going to take this all the wrong way. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. For everything, but I need to go home."
My head was killing me; I didn't want to talk about how everything had changed. I didn't want to figure it out, analyze it, explain it. Not right now. I wanted to go home, I wanted to sleep in my bed. If it was still there. Then it struck me – what if my bed wasn't there? What if my room had been changed into a pantry or a closet or a bathroom or an extension of the kitchen or something? What if I didn't have a home anymore? What if I was homeless and I thought I was going home only to find out that there was no home.
"Rory. You are not going back to Stars Hollow. Not tonight." She was determined. "Besides how would you get there, I'm certainly not driving you." She seemingly forgot I had a car of my own, but I wasn't going to remind her.
"Lorelai is coming to get me." I said quietly. "I called and she's coming to get me."
She stood, astounded, "You called Lorelai? What on earth would prompt you to do that?"
I didn't know it was possible but my voice got even quieter, "Jess."
"Jess? That boy you brought over years ago? That hoodlum. What on earth are you talking about? Your clearly ill."
"He wrote me a book. A real book. I haven't read it yet but here it is." I was still holding on to it, I waved it around a little. "He wrote me a book, me."
Grandma was clearly more confused now then she was before. "He wrote you a book? Why would he do that?"
"Sorry. Thank you. Love you." I stated simply.
"Excuse me?"
"That's why, Sorry. Thank you. Love you." I opened up to the first page and pointed at it, "see right there."
She was at a loss, "but, but what about Logan?"
I closed my eyes and sighed.
"Rory, did you hear me? What about Logan?"
I didn't want to think about Logan. Not now. Not after what he did tonight. Not after what was said. I opened my eyes and looked at my Grandmother, she was grabbling to comprehend something that I couldn't explain. I came to the conclusion that "What about him?" was the best response.
"You. Him. This Jess boy. Tonight. The pool house. You seem to know Logan pretty intimately." She paused briefly to show her distain. "You can't just leave."
Intimately. I knew she was referring to the fact that I was sleeping with him, but how well did I even know Logan? How well did I know Jess? How well did I know myself? I would have up until tonight said incredibly well to all of those. How typical of Jess to send my sense of reality of spinning. I was seething.
"I have his number." I said as I shoved some clothes into a bag. "I'll call him when I'm in Stars Hollow."
"And say what?" She had lost all control of this situation and wasn't the least bit happy. It was annoying really. I didn't want to be discussing it right then. Not when I couldn't think. Jess. This was all his fault. Marching into my life and telling me who I was. He had no right. Not after he left. Not after what he's done.
And yet there I was, backing all my things in a bag getting ready to go home. I hadn't even read his stupid book. I was changing my life for 5 words. 22 letters. I was counting the letters. Good God, I was counting the letters.
"Rory!"
"I don't know! I don't know, ok? I have no idea. None. Zero. Zip." I was yelling, "That's why I'm going home."
"You're exactly like your mother! Running away from your problems!" I couldn't help but smile. It had been a long time since someone had compared me to Lorelai. I started to cry again at the thought of her.
The door bell rang.
Lorelai was always one to understand the effectiveness of timing. But I just stood there, tears steaming down my cheeks, clutching Jess' book. Grandma walked out of the room and downstairs to the entryway.
"Hi mom." Lorelai whispered, "Where's Rory?"
"In the room that apparently wasn't good enough for her."
"Mom, don't be like that-"
"Like what Lorelai? This girl is exactly like you. We give her everything, the world and what does she want to do? Go back to that charming little town. Why? Because a boy showed up and gave her a book. Logan gave the girl a burken bag, for goodness sake, a burken bag."
"Rory likes books." Was all Lorelai could think to say.
She didn't have time to say anything. I just clung to her like a scared little kid. She kissed my head and promised me it was all going to be ok. Words tumbled out of my mouth, fast. Sorry. Thank you. Love you. She told me show knows. By the time we break the embrace her shirt is wet in the front.
"Mom, I-" I'm sorry. I miss you. I love you. I want to come home. I want to go back to school. I want to cry.
"Shh, honey I know."
I grabbed my bag and stuttered a teary thank you to my Grandmother. She was crying now too. She gave me a hug and let me go. I put my bag in the back of the jeep and climbed in. Mom started the car and we didn't say anything for a few minutes.
"We're gonna have to talk about this kid."
"I know."
"But not tonight."
"I know."
"Luke lives with me."
I looked at her and smiled, she was trying to be cute, to break the mood.
"He lives with you and your dog?"
"Yup."
"So tell me about this dog? Does it live in," I hesitated, the mood shifted again. "my room?"
"Your room is exactly how you left it." She says quietly.
"Thank you. For everything."
Mom ran her hand through my hair, "Your welcome kid."
"So seriously – back to this dog, is it still alive?" we could deal with everything else later. Right now I just wanted us to be Rory and Lorelai.
"Yes." She said indignantly. "It's alive and it's happy, I'll have you know."
"Really? What's it's name? Paul Anka?" I turned and looked at her, "You named your dog Paul Anka?"
"Yes."
We laughed. She told me more about this dog. When I told her I thought it was the most dysfunctional animal on the planet she became very defensive. "Paul Anka just has special needs." She cried exasperatedly as we pulled into the drive way.
We got out of the jeep and stood there in the dark. Alone and quiet for a minute, "Welcome home Rory." She whispers finally as she put her arm around my waist. I sighted, "I missed this."
"So did I. Luke is great and all but being quibby isn't quite as fun when it's one-sided."
"Luke isn't quibby? Poor baby. Maybe you should have gotten to know him better before you got engaged."
"I know, I know, that's what people keep trying to tell me. But he has a great ass."
"Oh. Good God. My ears. My eyes." My eyes widened, horrified. "I'm not going to have to see Luke in his underwear right?"
"Luke doesn't wear underwear."
"Dirty."
"Yes very, now let's go inside. You can go to bed and we'll talk in to morning."
I crawled into bed. My bed. In my room. I was still holding Jess' book. I felt childish in believing that as soon as I let it go it would disappear and I would wake up back at the Gilmore Mansion. But everything that had happened had been too surreal, so I continued to clutch the black book.
flashback
"Rory." I knew that voice. "Rory?"
"Jess?" He was particularly good at picking inopportune moments to show up. I was supposed to meet Logan in an hour. I wrapped my arms around my torso, this certainly wasn't expected. But I would be lying if I said I was surprised. "What do you want?"
"To say hi." He stated simply, leaning against the doorframe of my room.
"And I suppose my grandmother just let you in, did she?" This was not how expected this conversation to start. I expected him to launch into some tirade about how he wanted me back. How he loved me. How I was denying some mutual feeling that faded a long time ago. A feeling he killed when he runaway.
"As a matter of fact, no." he grinned. It was clear Grandma didn't know he was here. It was clear that he did something stealthy to get in. It was also clear he didn't just want to say hi.
"I'm not even going to ask Jess." I said I looked at him in the full length mirror; I was straightening out my skirt when I noticed how different we both looked. We both had grown up.
"I went to New Haven. I went to your dorm. Imagine my surprise when I found out you didn't live there anymore." I knew what he was getting at.
"Not now."
"Why not, now seems like the perfect time?"
"Why do you care?"
"Nice room."
"That's not an answer."
"It looks like it came directly out of an interior decorating magazine. Very classy Rory."
"Seriously, Jess."
"And these pillows? What's the thread count?"
"Jess. Stop."
"I was merely being polite."
"You were being evasive."
"Where are your books?"
"What? Jess, answer my question."
"Where are your books?"
"Jess, this is silly. If you don't want to say, don't, I'm not in the mood to play games."
"This isn't a game, where are you're books?"
"Not here."
"Read anything good lately?"
"Nothing special."
"What was the last thing you read?"
Silence. I tried to name something, anything, a magazine, a book, a handbook. Nothing. I couldn't remember the last book I picked up, let alone read.
"Rory, that's why." He said quietly.
"Jess," I paused. This was not at all what I had expected. "Do you wanna come to dinner?"
I stumbled out of bed, and into the kitchen. My head was aching, and waking up in my own room disoriented me further. It hadn't been until I reached the kitchen table did I realize my mom was asleep in the chair in my room.
I quickly slipped on a pair of slippers and grabbed a coat. I scribbled a note to my mom and I headed to Luke's. It had been months since I had a Luke Coffee. I tried to pretend that the stuff my Grandmother got her maids to make was competent. It wasn't. It was disgusting and watery. She made me drink decaf. It was repulsive.
"Rory?" Came a voice from behind the counter, Luke rushed out to say hello.
"Morning Luke." I yawned and pulled my coat tighter around my waist. "Two large coffees to-go, a jelly doughnut, and a time machine, preferable a Dolerian. Please."
"Back to the Future?"
"Bad dream – just go with it. Coffee. Now."
"Right. OK, where's your mom?" he asked as he poured the coffees.
"Home. Asleep." He handed me my coffee. "Thank you."
"It's on the house, go talk to Lorelai."
As I was walking out the door I heard Luke say, "Welcome home, Rory."
I smiled.
"Rory? Is that you?" I heard a voice from the kitchen.
"I come baring coffee from Luke's."
"Good daughter," she patted my head as I sat next to her at the table, she frowned. She whispered, "That's Paul Anka's chair."
"Right." I switched chairs.
"Paul Anka is scared of things with googley eyes." She said looking at my slippers. I took them off and walked them into my room and shut the door.
"This is why I never let you get a dog. You were bound to get the animal version of you. Quirky and dysfunctional, yet completely lovable."
"I thought the reason was the hamster."
"That too. They are both valid reasons." I sat down and crossed my legs. Mom opened her mouth as if to object. I switched the way I was crossing my legs. She smiled. "You learn quick young grasshopper."
"So." I said quietly.
"We need to talk Rory."
"Dean. The color of your living room. Logan. Journlism. The DAR. Yale. Bewitched. Mr. Huntzberger. Jess. Madonna's new song. Grandma. Take your pick."
"Bewitched was wrong." She seethes.
"I know, Logan didn't understand, he didn't get that Nicole Kidman wasn't the problem. It was the script."
"It was who they left out."
"I know!"
"Rory."
"Focus.
"Right."
"I missed you."
"We'll get to that soon enough. Let's start with - why'd you leave?"
"You or grandma or Yale?" I asked quietly.
"Let's start with Yale."
Woot! There we go the beginning of "Don't Panic" my first GG fic. There is a plan for this one – I'm not winging it! Ambitious aren't I? Well basically this is a Lit Drama/Comedy I'm trying to keep with in the spirit of the show and keep the characters in character. Please I would love to know what y'all think.