A/N: So, this was just something that was floating around in my head that I had to get down on paper. Or post on Fanfiction.

And not to worry, the next instalment of my story "Rationality" is in the works and should be up soon.

Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls ain't mine and none of the characters are either.

- - - -

SHE FEELS HIM

She lights a cigarette. She doesn't smoke. Never has, but right now, she needs a cigarette. She needs a cigarette because it reminds her of him. Cigarettes smell like him. They taste like him. And she would do anything to smell and taste him right now.

She misses him.

She misses him more than she ever thought possible.

She thought the sorrow would be a slow descent towards peace. Towards acceptance. She thought the pain would slowly fade and drift away from her like Jess had done. She thought Jess would fade away like the horizon behind her car. She thought Jess would fade further and further away and that his memory would become something vague and beautiful offering healing as opposed to suffering. She was wrong.

The road is wide open before her. The sun is just rising on a Saturday morning and she is just about alone on the road. That's how she always feels these days. Alone.

Her children worry about her. Call her constantly. But she doesn't want anyone to worry about her. After all, nobody can do anything to make her feel better. Nobody could ever make her feel better the way Jess could, and now that he is gone, she'll never feel better.

She hates driving. When she was young she would drive everywhere all the time. She liked it then. But since they got married he would always drive. And now that he's gone, she has to drive. That's why she hates it. Her driving means he's gone and will never come back.

She had always thought she would die before Jess. She could never imagine herself as a widow alone in the house. Their house. It was their house. Not hers. Not his. It was theirs and was never meant for her to be alone in.

But one morning when she woke up, he was dead. Without warning he had left her. She had stayed in bed for hours with him crying and crying. They had to physically remove her from him when the ambulance came to get him.

She takes a drag of the cigarette. It does taste like him and it almost makes her smile.

Pulling up in front of the house she hesitantly exits the car. It had taken her years to get him to move to Stars Hollow. They had lived in New York for the first years of their marriage, but when she was expecting their second child, he had finally caved. But only due to space related issues, he had pointed out every time she told the story. They had moved and they had been happy. Just like they always had been. Even with the bumps in the road, they had been happy. And with the birth of their third child, their family had been perfect.

And this house was where they had lived all these years.

This is the first time she's been here since he died a month ago. She has been staying with their oldest daughter, but she feels it is time to move back and try to get herself together again.

She takes her time unlocking the door and the moment she enters her heart drops. She was almost expecting him to greet her with a kiss and a 'how was your day?'. But nobody's there. She's alone.

After opening a window she sits down in his chair in the living room and pulls a blanket around herself tucking her body into the chair, pretending it's his body. The house is still full of his stuff because she hasn't had the heart to remove anything. And she had gone ballistic when her son-in-law had suggested he'd go and do it. She doesn't want to remove any of it, but she knows she should. It will help life go on. It will help her go on. All the suits and shirts and ties and razors and the band t-shirts he had refused to throw out even as he celebrated his 60th birthday.

She can't just get rid of it. It would be like a second funeral. And if there is one day she never, ever wants to relive it would be his funeral. All those people who had come up to talk to her when all she wanted to do was be left alone. Couldn't they see that? Didn't they get that she couldn't care less about their condolences? That she had just buried her husband and needed to digest that fact without being expected to make bullshit chit chat? She had just wanted to scream at people to back the hell off.

No, she's keeping his things. Those things that were his. Those things that were part of their life together. She had taken his old Metallica t-shirt with her to their daughters house. At night she would hug it tight to her body and breathe in his scent that was still left on it and she would pretend he was there with her. Holding her. Kissing her. Whispering that he loved her.

She's crying now. Tears are pouring down her face as her mind fills with thoughts of him. But they are silent tears. They are not the violent attacks of grief, like in the first days following his death, filled with tears, screaming and shouting that had scared their grandchildren into tears of their own. Silent tears. Silent tears of heartbreak and a bottomless pit of sorrow.

She doesn't smile anymore. She can't smile. Jess loved it when she smiled, always told her how beautiful she was when she smiled. Now that he is gone, who has she got to smile for?

She catches her self singing. Not really singing, but whispering the words with a slight hum to it and a shake in her voice due to the crying. The words to "Guns of Brixton" by the Clash. Her and Jess never had a song that they called theirs. They weren't that sentimental. But "Guns of Brixton" was the closest they came and it would always make them smile at each other whenever they heard it. For their first wedding anniversary, she had bought Jess London Calling in vinyl, and she feels a tug in her heart as she remembers the way he had thanked her.

People had thought they wouldn't last. Even her mother and his uncle, the closest he had ever come to a father, had their doubts. But they had married anyways and they had showed every sceptic that they were for real. They were in love. And he had stood by her side everyday for the rest of his life just as he had promised that day.

Sitting here in his chair in their house she swears she feels him. She feels him. She feels him kiss her. She feels him hold her. She feels his breath in her ear as he whispers he loved her. She feels him undress her. She feels him make love to her. And she holds onto him. She holds on to him this last time. This last time. She feels herself falling. She feels him catch her, like he always caught her. She feels him inside her. She feels him complete her. She feels him slip away as she desperately holds on.

She wakes up to the sound of the telephone ringing. She doesn't get up.

Her head shoots up at the sound of his voice filling the room. You've reached Rory and Jess Mariano. We're not home right now, but if you leave a message after the beep we will get back to you. Thanks. She cries again and this time she can't fight the sobs escaping her mouth. She clutches her stomach and feels her body shaking. She doesn't hear their son's voice as he leaves a message telling her he's on his way. Their son who sounds and looks exactly like his father except for his blue eyes.

She just cries.

"Oh, Jess." She sobs. "Oh, Jess."

- - - -

A/N: Did you read? Please review, it really does make my day.