Author's Note- Foo Fighters is very excellent Lit music, did you know that? Particularly Aurora and Let It Die (sadly). No, seriously, I have this pathetic obsession with Foo Fighters. It's kind of scary how much I depend on their music for my mental health. Lane would be proud of me. Or she would be disgusted because I also have a sad, sad penchant for Enya... Ugh, ignore me. I needed an A/N and couldn't think of anything to say about the actual story because it speaks for itself. So... here it goes!

Keg! Max!

Rory opens the door to the bedroom, unsure why Jess would even be in here, but since he isn't downstairs he has to be somewhere. And to her great surprise, he's actually there, sitting in a frilly teal-upholstered chair and staring pensively at the wall, the same way he has been all night.

"There you are," she says, the way she might speak to an injured animal- soft and low and gentle. He acknowledges her with a nod. "I've been looking all over for you."

Jess studies her in the dim half-light, haloed by the glow from the light on the stairs, and thinks that she may be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Unfamiliar feelings swell up in him, mixing with the near-panic and nerves that have been boiling through his blood all night and making his confusion that much worse. He's terrified that if he says anything to her now, everything will come spilling out and he won't be able to stop himself. He knows this about himself: when he gets emotional, he gets crazy. He says things he would never ordinarily reveal, and he does things that don't even make sense to him. That's why he avoids acknowledging the feelings he ordinarily keeps trapped under the surface. Rory, however, is extraordinary, and the effect she has on him is, too.

So he says the most neutral thing he can manage. "Just... got tired of everything down there."

"Are we allowed to be up here? I mean, Kyle was kind of discouraging it," Rory says hesitantly.

He thinks back to the last time he was at a kegger (feels like ages ago, another lifetime, so far removed from now), and remembers what happened up in the bedroom that night. "When you have a party, you get what you get," he shrugs off.

"Yeah, I guess," Rory says, studying him as he rises to his feet. That same frenetic, angry energy she's felt in him all evening is clearer on his face. It awakens all her maternal instincts and she wants to make whatever has upset him go away. "Sad boy," she says sympathetically, placing a comforting hand on his cheek. For a moment his eyelids drift downwards and he leans into her touch. Then he recovers his semblance of composure (she knows it's just a mask, she's gotten better at figuring out when his calm is a facade) and jerks away from her hand. "What's the matter?" she asks. "You were looking forward to this party. What happened?"

Yes, he was looking forward to it. A little piece of his old life mixed with Rory- it sounded like heaven in his opinion. And then two minutes of conversation with a man he despises on principle (pun only partially intended) destroyed it and sent him into a flurry of confusion. "Nothin'," he brushes off, desperate to put off a conversation he knows will be inevitable. He doesn't want to see her face when she finds out how he's let her down.

Whatever she may have told him the night of the Distillers concert, his curiosity had been piqued and he'd listened to the message she'd left on their machine. It had panicked him when he had realized she was slipping away from him, and he had made a conscious effort to be better for her. But this... he was afraid that this might be the final straw for her.

"Something did," she insists. "What was it?"

In answer, he presses his lips to hers.

"You're not getting sick of me, are you?"

Never. He couldn't. It's not possible. He's in too deep, addicted to her taste, drunk on the feeling of her hands on his chest. He responds with another kiss, more passionate, trying to show her what he can't say in words.

"That's a pretty good answer." She's smiling a little, and he can't resist tasting her once again, feel her lips move with his.

Maybe it's because they're at a party. Upstairs. In the bedroom. Maybe it's because he's too intoxicated by the sensations her wandering hands have awakened to think clearly. But he finds himself moving them over to the bed and laying her gently back, settling himself above her. Even as his mind is screaming warnings about losing control, his hands too begin to wander...

God, this feels so right, she thinks, as his mouth does things to her she didn't even know existed. That is one of the best parts of their relationship- the making out is definitely a bonus. Jess isn't the best boyfriend, but when he kisses her, he's generous. It's all about her. But suddenly his hands are fumbling with the button of her jeans and she realizes that maybe he wants something in return. "Jess..." she protests. Then, when he doesn't back down, "Jess!" She writhes out from under him, suddenly afraid.

"Jeez," he mumbles.

"Not here! Not now!" she exclaims. She wants her first time to be perfect, and upstairs at a party wasn't what she had in mind at all.

"Fine," he retorts, sharper than he meant to.

"What's wrong with you?" she demands. She's not upset that he wants to have sex with her; at least she knows that they're on the same page there. But she's upset that he pushed in her, and in the most undesirable venue imaginable. And she's upset that he seems angry with her for stopping him.

He shrugs, once again knowing he can't say a word or he'll never stop. "Nothing's wrong with me."

Rory glares at him. "Someone could've walked through that door!" she exclaims, pointing to emphasize it.

"And Santa Claus could've come down the chimney. Whatever," he snaps, and mentally smacks himself. He's not angry with her, he's angry with himself, but he can't seem to stop.

"You did not think that it was going to happen like this, did you?" she says, and her voice cracks a little. It softens him.

"I don't know what I think anymore," he says quietly.

"Jess..." she says, and he can hear the compassion in her voice. He knows that she's going to try and make him explain himself and he can't. He just can't. If he tries, it's all going to come flying out of his mouth and then it'll be the end of them for sure.

"Rory, stop! Just stop! I did not invite you up here, you came up here on your own!" he yells.

Tears flood her eyes, and immediately he's remorseful. A tiny piece of his already scarred heart breaks and dies at the sight of her, upset because of him. Because he's a moron. Suddenly, explaining everything doesn't look so bad, because anything is better than seeing her cry. Before he can open his mouth and explain or apologize or something, though, she chokes, "I don't know what I did," and flees the room. Shit.

"You didn't do anything," he mumbles, even though she's already gone. "Rory!" He lunges after her.

Rory flees down the staircase, heart pounding, head spinning, tears in her eyes. What has gotten into him? She stumbles into Dean and Lindsay, and for a moment she's tempted to give in to Dean's concerned look, but right now she doesn't want to face anyone. She brushes past them and continues down the stairs, ignoring Lindsay's call after her.

As he reaches the top of the stairs, he sees her nearly collide with Dean's arm candy and expects her to run right back to be comforted by her ex, but she surprises him and goes right on past once she's recovered her balance. He chases after her. Dean gives him a murderous glare, and Jess half expects him to punch him right then and there, but the blonde whose face he's sucking lays a restraining hand on his arm and Jess escapes the house unhindered.

She's halfway across the street by the time he leaves the house, and he has to sprint to catch up. "Rory, wait!" he calls, and she picks up her pace. But Gilmores aren't built for running, and he quickly covers the distance between them, leaping in front of her to halt her progress.

"Leave me alone," she chokes, wiping at her streaming eyes.

"No, Rory, look, I... I'm sorry," Jess stutters out. He's not good at apologies, but he's damn well going to try. "I shouldn't've... I'm just... I'm a moron, okay?"

Against her will, Rory feels her anger leeching away a little. Jess doesn't apologize often, not with words anyway, and she can tell that this is heartfelt. But she can't forget what just happened so easily as that.

"I'm kinda freaked out," he mumbles.

"Yeah, I can tell," she responds caustically. "You've been in a funk all evening." That's as much of an opening to talk as she's willing to give him right now.

She studies him in the glow of the streetlamp. His hands are shoved in his pocket, his shoulders hunched and his head is down as he studies their shoes. He looks very young suddenly, and very broken. For the first time, she's starting to see just how damaged by his past he really is. She knew this moment would come; she's been purposefully closing her eyes to it, because she was afraid that it would scare her away from what could be an amazing relationship. But now that she's looking at him- really looking at him- she finds that it doesn't scare her. Her heart goes out to him, and she wants to take away all the hurt the world has done to him, because he never deserved it. He never deserved to be so afraid of trusting anyone that he can't open up even to her.

It's coming, Jess can feel it. He's admitted to being freaked out, the rest is just bound to spill out. It's just a matter of what he'll say first. And what he does say as he meets her eyes surprises even himself.

"I love you."

No turning back now.

Rory feels her own jaw drop in shock. Oddly, it's something she didn't expect to hear from him, she thinks numbly. Their relationship has always been so much more intense than it ever was with Dean, but she honestly never expected Jess to feel that for her, let alone saying it. He always seems so... untouchable. But hearing him say it takes her breath away and sets her heart to pounding in the most enjoyable way possible. "What?" she whispers.

Jess sighs. "I love you," he admits again, feeling warmth rush into his gut, even though he feels sick to his stomach as a belated sense of nervousness floods him. "And I don't deserve you. I... I can't take you to prom," he explains at her confused expression, "because I'm not graduating. I let you down. Again." Sometime during his confession, his gaze broke from hers and went back to the ground. He's not sure when it happened.

And there it is, in a nutshell. His behavior tonight, the gloomy look that's been on his face all evening... it all makes sense to Rory now. And that last little pinch of anger she was clinging to slips away. She reaches for his hand, feeling the usual electricity when their fingers lock together.

"It's okay," she assures him quietly. "The prom isn't that huge of a deal, I guess. We'll figure the rest out."

That wasn't what he expected. He wants to look up at her, but he knows that his face will betray the amazement he's feeling. He expected her to recoil in shock and disgust and just keep on running. He's not good at relationships... well, not ones that matter. And he's fucked up big time this time and he knows it. But here she is, holding his hand and making promises, and he doesn't understand why she isn't heading for the hills.

"I mean," she continues, already making lists in her head, "you can get your GED this summer and then maybe you could go to Hartford Community and--"

"Rory, college? Seriously?"

"College is a lot different than high school," she counters. "It's a whole different system. Less of treating you like an imbecile, which I know you hate. More challenges."

Yeah, sometimes it seems like he lives on challenges. Look at her- he had to go and fall for the girl who already had a boyfriend, didn't he? But as much as her reasoning makes sense... "I can't afford it, anyway," he points out.

"We'll find a way," she says, and means it. Jess is the smartest person she's ever met (and at Chilton, that's really saying something), and she knows he can do this if he chooses to.

Again, the plural does not escape him, and he chances a smile, though his eyes are still glued to the ground. Maybe they aren't over, after all. It's a comforting thought. "Okay," he says. "I'll think about it." Another obstacle occurs to him. He doesn't know why he's putting them up between them, but he can't seem to stop himself. "Luke said he wouldn't let me keep living with him if I didn't graduate."

"Getting your GED counts," she says firmly. And if it doesn't, she's going to have a firm discussion with Luke and sort this out one way or another.

He nods, and finally chances to meet her eyes. The small, compassionate smile he finds on her face makes his heart skip a beat. "I'll walk you home," he says, and it's a first.

They walk the few blocks to the Gilmore house in silence, and it feels like they're finally getting back on track. They're in a place where he can look her in the eyes without feeling unworthy. But there's still something unsaid between them, this time from her end, and that doesn't escape Jess' notice. He wasn't expecting her to say it back, but apparently he's a moron who still partially believes in fairytale endings, underneath the toughened exterior. Hope can be a real bitch sometimes.

When they arrive on her front porch, Rory turns to look at him. She thinks about her damaged boy with all his rough edges. She thinks about the way he holds her a little too tightly sometimes, as if he's scared to let go. She thinks about the tumult they went through to finally be together. She thinks about the feelings that are so much stronger than anything she's ever felt before; so strong, in fact, that they've scared her into silence for months now for fear of scaring him off, when she should have been honest.

"Hey Jess?" she says.

"Yeah?" His face is an unreadable chiaroscuro in the moonlight.

"With or without the diploma, I love you, too."

For a long time, Jess stares at her disbelievingly. Then his face breaks into the most open, honest smile she's ever seen him wear. He doesn't give her long to enjoy it, though, because his lips are crashing against hers and her arms are around his neck and they're both losing their minds right there on the porch.

At last- minute or hour, he's not sure, but he knows he needs to stop before he can't- he breaks away from her. "Hi," he says huskily, and is embarrassed by the crack in his voice.

"Hi," she responds, and she's a little out of breath.

He brushes a finger across her parted lips, then takes a step back. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Rory nods. "See you tomorrow."

He walks away slowly into the night, and she watches him go.

Jess shoves his hands in his pockets as he trudges back to the diner, and for the first time in a long time, maybe in his whole life, he actually feels like someone's in his corner. It's not just him versus the world anymore. He believes her when she says she loves him, unbelievable though it is, because though lips might lie, he's learned that eyes never do, and Rory honestly loves him. There's no doubt whatsoever that he is so far gone over her he can't ever come back. So wherever they're going from here, they're going together.

A/N2- I want to reiterate, this is just a oneshot, but once I've finished the whole Rewritten Scenes series, I'll select a couple to do extensive sequels to. This could be one of them if you want to see it continued. Your vote is your review.