A/N: Okay, so I had a chapter halfway written out for this, and it wasn't as good as I was hoping it would be, but it was good enough quality to post. There wasn't much for me to finish off, and it would take me maybe thirty minutes, and that's probably too much. But then, of course, my computer completely froze up and I was forced to restart it without saving any of what I had written. So, here we go. This update comes to you so late as I've had school, so I'll try my best to update at the weekends I have free (see, I have tomorrow, Saturday, free but I have a concert on Sunday) but I can't promise you anything. I'll try and update whenever I can, so maybe on weekdays sometimes. I'll try and update at least once a week. Hope you enjoy this!

Disclaimer: As always, I only own the laptop I wrote this on. Not even the couch I was sitting on whilst. That belongs to my mother. All recognisable characters belong to Amy Sherman Palladino, not me. Never me. I am literally just a kid from a place in Scotland no one's ever heard of who watches TV all day and writes stupid stories about them. That is all.

"Gilmore! Hey," Jess says, smirking at Rory, who's rushing around the diner with her school bag hanging off of her shoulder.

"Coffee!" she yells, dropping her bag onto the floor beside her. "Luke, can I please have some coffee?" she asks the older man, who's standing behind the counter with a small smile on his face.

"You know, coffee is killing you, Rory. It's too late for your mom, trust me, I know, but it's not too late for you," Luke says, but he goes for the coffee and pours it into a to go cup, noticing the time.

"I think I'll live," she says with a grin, taking the steaming hot cup of coffee from Luke's hands. Taking a sip from it, she can't help herself from letting a small moan escape her mouth. She's a Gilmore, what did you expect? Jess can't help from finding it at least a little sexy. He's a seventeen year old hormonal male, it's what's to be expected. Pretty girl moans, he finds it hot. "Luke, this is amazing. First batch is always best.

"Yeah, thanks. You're exactly like your mother. Don't let yourself become addicted, though. Tell me if you think that's gonna happen, I'll sign you up for Coffee Addicts Anonymous," he jokes, flashing his daughter figure an impish grin.

"I have to go now, but Mom and I will definitely be back tonight. See you, Jess," she says with a polite smile, taking her coffee in one hand and pulling her bag over her shoulder.

He smiles back at her and says that he'll see her tonight, and then waves goodbye to his Uncle Luke and sets off for school.

They don't see each other until the following Saturday, in all actuality, because Rory's studying or Jess is out or Lorelai goes and Rory doesn't, and it's like they're ignoring each other for no good reason at all, but maybe Jess sort of doesn't want to see her again. Because she knows about it all, about the self harming and the cuts and the burns and she knows a little about what's driving him to it, and he doesn't want her to. He really doesn't.

The Saturday that they see each other just so happens to be the Saturday of the Firelight Festival. Luke and Lorelai are sitting talking on a bench, she's drinking a takeaway cup of coffee and he's scolding her for it, and as Jess looks on at the scene, he smiles a little to himself. Because this is what friendship looks like. Just sitting there, talking on and on and on about nothing and everything, not caring what they look like.

"It looks pretty, doesn't it?" The familiar voice breaks Jess from his trance.

"Hmm?" Jess asks Rory, who appeared beside him only seconds ago.

"The lights. They look so pretty."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess. I wasn't really paying attention to the lights, if I'm honest." He smiles at her, edging only a little closer to the girl. Not a noticeable amount.

"What were you looking at?" she asks, genuinely interested.

"Your mom and my uncle. They look so... natural. It's peaceful. I like it. She's not running around shouting for once, and he's not ranting at her. They're just sitting there talking, and it's nice. It's real. Anyone could be looking and they don't care. It's friendship," he says, staring some more with admiration.

"Yeah, they do that a lot. I remember when we first met Luke," she says, smiling at the sight. "Him and Mom would talk so much and get distracted so much that I had to hit Luke every time I couldn't get their attention. That bruise on his chest? My fist. I got pretty strong towards the end."

He laughs at her and says, "Yeah. They seem pretty into it, huh?"

"I think they secretly like each other," she whispers as if the whole town isn't in on it. "But they won't admit it."

Jess laughs some more. He can't remember a time in the past few months when he's laughed so much. "Yeah, I can see it."

There's a nice, comfortable silence, until Rory says, "So, how are you doing?"

And God, he hates the way it sounds. So sorry. So fucking worried. "I'm good," he says a little awkwardly.

"Um, well, I brought you something. Sorry it has puppies on it, I'm sure I could find a different one for you, but it was the only one I could find at that time and I was already late and... here." She hands him a calendar with puppies all over it, and he smiles at the sentiment behind it. "It's to mark off the days you stay clean on. Luke'll make fun of you, just a bit. Only for the calendar."

"Just a little. Thanks."

"It's okay."

"Yeah. It's okay. It's all okay." He repeats it for a while, and Rory leaves him alone because he's stuck in a trance. It's all okay, that's all he says. It's all okay.

He doesn't know how it happens, but sometime during the next month, he finds himself alone one night with too many thoughts and not enough time, and too many distractions. His blades are sitting untouched in his suitcase, still, never moved from the first day he arrived in this Godforsaken town, but he finds himself reaching for them out of habit. The release he gets from running the razor down his wrist is unbelievable, and he doesn't mean to do it for as long as he does, but he finds his arm gushing with blood and he doesn't know who else he can go to. It's early, still, and Luke'll be at the diner. He can escape out the window and say that's how he got the blood, but Rory will see the scars everywhere, and she'll be disappointed. He throws the puppy calendar across the room and screams, and then pulls a jacket on and walks around to the crap shack.

Lorelai answers the door, clearly not pleased to see Jess, and puts on a smile and invites him in. "She's in her room," she says when he asks where Rory is, and gives him directions.

"I'm so sorry," he says when she lets him in, and she frowns at him.

"For what?" It's an innocent question, and she seems so childlike in that moment that Jess doesn't want to tell her, almost can't tell her.

"I'm sorry," he says, and repeats it over and over and over. She knows something's wrong. He doesn't take his jacket off like he should, and she has to ease it off of him eventually when he's gripping onto the sleeves so tight that his knuckles go white.

"Jess!" she exclaims when she sees the bloody mess. It's all smeared, and half is dry and half is still wet, and it gets all over Rory's hands but she can't care less, really. Without any panic, she takes him into the bathroom and cleans him up with brand new bandages and gauze, and she calms him down as he cries onto her shoulder. She'll never tell anyone about this, not for as long as she lives.

They don't know each other, not well enough. They know each other on a personal level. She knows that he hates himself and he knows that her dad is pretty much a deadbeat so she has Luke, but he doesn't know her favourite colour or what song she hums when she's bored or what her comfort food is, and it's gnawing away at him slowly. He isn't sure why, because it's not like he likes her or something, but he feels like he should know these things if he's going to come to her when he breaks.