A/N: Ok, this is the hardest chapter of anything I've ever written- if you have don't want details of the attack you can skip the italics, I tried to make this as non-graphic as possible while still getting the story out. The interview with the detective involves questions about it, but I tried to make that as clinical as I could. I think you probably could skip this chapter if you wanted.

Knock. Knock.

Rory moved over to the door, checking through the peephole, the guy's back was to her,

"Hello, are you Joe? For the table?"

"Yep, I'm Joe, from Craigslist!" She began unlocking all of the locks on the door.

"Thank God, I was just about to have to leave here, it's my graduation party tonight, my Grandmother is throwing it and she does not like it when the Guest of Honor is late. But my roommate asked me to do this because she had a dinner with her boyfriend's family and this was the last piece of furniture to get rid of. I was getting nervous that I was in for a 15 minute lecture about etiquette and my social responsibility and there is nothing worse than when you expect a nice party but end up getting the insane reincarnation of Emily Pos-"

She hadn't been paying attention as she talked, concentrating on each lock, but as soon as the door opened he came up behind her and clapped a hand to her mouth, silencing her- and that's when she felt a knife pushing against the pulse point in her throat. She hadn't noticed it through the peephole because his back had been to her, but he was wearing a mask over ⅔ of her face so she couldn't make out his features- the Phantom of the Fucking Opera had a knife to her throat.

"Don't speak, don't scream and you may just survive this." Her eyes had gone wide with panic, she tried to struggle against him, but he was a solidly built guy- 3-4 inches taller than her, muscular, and in the moment it felt like he was literally twice her size. She tried to remember what Paris had taught her about self-defense… go for the soft bits. She tried to kick him, or stomp on his instep and then reaching back to gouge out his eyes or something, but he was much stronger than her. "Oh good, I like it when they're feisty."

And then she felt the sting of a slap across the face- Rory had never been slapped before, she couldn't believe how much that hurt! She tried to hit back, but he just used the handle of his knife and hit her hard in the back of the head and she fell, hitting her head against the corner of the table she was supposed to be selling to Joe on Craigslist.

Before she knew what was happening he was pushing her onto her back, with his forearm positioned against her larynx, making it difficult for her to breathe as he straddled her. He was pawing at her skirt, trying to hike it up and she was crying and thrashing against him, she started to beg him, "Please, please don't do this! My boyfriend is going to be home any minute, if you go now then I won't say anything."

"I don't think so, you just look much too juicy for me to leave without sampling." Suddenly he was ripping her panties off her and shoving his fingers inside- with absolutely no warning. "Oh, yeah, that's pretty good, wow, you're awfully ready for me, you dirty bitch." He smelled of booze and weed- really bad weed, and sweat, it was like a high school locker room.

Thankfully for her, he continued to put pressure on her throat, right at the larynx so it wasn't much longer before she passed out, the first time- she remembered coming to a few times, the second time she was on her stomach, face down to the floor and felt flesh tearing, making her scream so loud from the pain and he hit her hard, telling her to shut the fuck up- and she managed to pass out again, crying, hoping he would just kill her.

She woke up in a panic- sweating, panting, her heart beating almost out of her chest, tears in her eyes. She looked around, she was in a hospital room, and right next to her was a pair of very worried chocolate brown eyes- God, she loved those eyes.

"Logan! Oh my God, Logan, it was so awful, I'm so sorry. I never should have let him in, he seemed perfectly fine, I'm so sorry that I did, oh my God, Logan, please don't hate me." She grabbed at his lapels and pulled him to her, collapsing against him, needing his familiar frame to comfort her, help her feel safe. He was so grateful for it- he had been sitting here for two hours, all of these scenarios in his head, worried she'd never want to touch him again, be touched by him- never get to hold her again, it would be too much. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling her to him as tight as he possibly could, stroking her hair, whispering to her-

"Hey, Ace, it's ok, don't worry about it. You did nothing wrong."

"I'm so sorry, Logan, I tried so hard to fight him, but he was so strong and he had a knife and I was so scared and I didn't know what to do and please, please, please, don't hate me!"

"No, Ace, you did great- you survived, that's all you needed to do, ok? I mean, come on, what the fuck would I do without you? I can't lose you, no matter what, you are the only thing that matters. You're here right now, you are totally safe, we're going to find this bastard, I promise. I love you." He punctuated his statements with kisses to the top of her head as they both cried on each other's shoulders… he had no idea how long they stayed like that, it felt like only seconds, but if they had looked at a clock they would have seen it was 20 minutes before they were interrupted by Meghan, the social worker.

She knocked on the door and stood outside the room as she asked, "May I come in?" Meghan came in, smiling softly as she handed them each a tissue, moving slowly and deliberately while keeping eye contact with Rory. "Rory, I have a Detective Noonan outside, he would like to get a statement from you. He needs you to tell him what happened- what you remember, at least. Now, you don't have to do that tonight, it can wait until tomorrow- or even later, you don't have to do anything–it's completely your choice. I can say, I have found it's usually best to do it sooner than later, helps the police move forward and dragging it out can be tough. What do you say?"

She looked at Meghan, then at Logan, she was terrified and looked like she was about to have a full blown-panic attack. .

"Hey, Ace, it's totally your call- I can stay in here with you as you tell him, or I can go out and get your mom. Or if you'd rather no one be here- that's fine too." He swallowed at that one, he really didn't know what he would do if she asked him to leave her right now. "Or, if you'd rather, we can deal with it tomorrow." She was biting her bottom lip from nerves and indecision before he continued. "I will say, if you give them a statement tonight, they can start looking for the son-of-a-bitch, which will make me feel about a million times better- we can get him off the streets." He looked over at Meghan, was he doing alright? She smiled and nodded slightly at him- he was doing just fine.

She bit her thumb nail, not something she had done since probably 2nd grade, sighing before resigning herself to it. "Fine, I can talk to him."

Meghan nodded her head. "I think that's a really good step. I will bring him in, if that's ok with you?" She nodded and Meghan left the room to get Detective Noonan.

"Do you want me to stay here with you or leave?" She gripped his hand so tightly her skin went bright white and looked up at him.

"Please don't leave, Logan. Please don't go anywhere!" And she was crying and panicking all over again, he put his arms around her again.

"You can't get rid of me that easy, Ace. I'm right here for you. But, if it at any point you want me to leave, you don't have to worry, just tell me and I promise I won't be upset, ok?" Granted, promising not to be upset by it was bullshit, but he wouldn't let her see it. She put her forehead to his again, nodding as the Detective joined them in the room. He was a loud man, reminded her of every stereotype of a wise-cracking detective- probably 6 feet and weighed 250 lbs, hideous tweed jacket that didn't really match his wrinkled shirt and khaki pants- and he smelled like coffee and cigarettes.

"Lorelai Leigh Gilmore?".

"Yes, that's me. But people call me Rory." Logan tensed as she tensed, forcing herself to sit up far too straight, and she sounded absolutely exhausted.

The Detective launched into a series of brusque questions, taking notes on his tiny memo pad as she answered them- did she know her attacker, did he have any identifying tattoos or features, how did he get into her apartment, was he armed, etc. Logan found himself squeezing the railing on the bed a little too tight as she answered the questions she could, his entire fist was going white from a lack of circulation, but he couldn't let Rory see exactly how hard all of this was for him to hear- she needed him to be strong.

"Now, , I have a few questions to ask you that are most likely going to be uncomfortable around your boyfriend, perhaps you would like to speak more privately?" He raised his eyebrows like he was suggesting she get rid of him so they could "clear this all up". Logan wanted to stand up and punch the guy right in the face, Rory clutched at his arm, silently begging him to stay.

"I don't have anything to hide from him, ask away." There was almost a trace of his girl there, she was angry at him for implying something and she shot back. The detective just shrugged, unimpressed.

"You're call. So, Ms. Gilmore, may I ask how many sexual partners you have had in the last 12 months?"

"Just one, I've been in a monogamous relationship for 2 ½ years."

"Including oral, anal and digital play?" She turned bright red and Logan wanted to punch the fucker in his face- how dare he question her fidelity? And so crudely.

"Umm, yes, completely monogamous."

"And how many sexual partners have you had in total? Again, please include oral, anal and digital play."

"Is that really a relevant question?" Logan stood up, flexing a fist, how could that question possibly be helpful?

"Sir, we just have to assess what we're up against in reporting this crime and attempting to charge someone- we need to have a full understanding of the situation and the accuser."

"The accuser? Don't you mean the victim?"

"Please allow me to do my job, sir."

"Oh, believe me, I'm crossing my fingers that you actually start doing your job, instead of standing here and obliquely accusing my girlfriend of being a slut or that she asked to be raped!"

And then it was out there, that was the first time anyone had actually used that word- they'd been dancing around it, using euphemisms, hinting, avoiding, circling around it, but that was the first time he'd even used it in his own head.

"Logan, please, let him ask me questions- I swear, I don't have anything to hide from anyone." That was so like her- trusting and open- how could she still be that way? Then she looked at the Detective. "To answer your question, I've had exactly 4 partners, I can give you their names and phone numbers if necessary, but none of them, aside from Logan, have been in the picture in the last 2 ½ years."

"And can you describe the alleged assault?" Logan stood, his hackles up at the use of the term "alleged assault", but Rory held him back. She began to explain that she was waiting for someone who responded to a Craigslist ad, she worried he was standing her up and she would be late to her own graduation party, then the attack… and he tried to keep it together, he honestly did, he was holding her hand, he was trying to breathe deeply, but as she talked about the man crushing her larynx and her passing out, he felt nauseous and had to take in a sharp breath- which caught her notice and started her sobbing again.

"I'm so sorry, Logan, I didn't mean for anything to happen, please don't hate me- I tried so hard to fight him, I promise! He just was really strong and I kind of just froze, and he had a knife..." And she quickly felt herself approaching levels of panic even she didn't recognize- she was hyperventilating and unable to speak. Logan tried to get her to look into his eyes, hands cupping her face, trying to soothe her, but she was turning bright red and the cop pushed a button. Almost immediately a doctor came in, walking up to her IV, grabbing a syringe out of the cabinet it was on and injected something into her tubes as he spoke calmly,

"It's alright, Ma'am, you can breathe, just remember, in and out, nice and slow, you're going to be ok." Within seconds she was calming down, breathing more regularly, the tension flowing out of her body. Logan looked down at her, trying to stay as visibly calm as possible, holding her hand. Meanwhile Detective Dickwad was standing by the door, arms crossed and he looked… well, he looked bored and somewhat impatient.

"Alright Miss Gilmore, if we could please continue?" Logan's eyes widened with surprise and anger and he wanted to stop the interview but Rory held him back- begging him with her look to stay calm and just let her get this over with. He hesitated and then nodded, kissing her forehead.

"Alright then, so you said he had his arm over your larynx, it caused you to pass out, but you woke up a few times during the act?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"And when you woke up the first time, what was he doing?" Her eyes got wide again, her heart was racing and she looked at Logan, not sure she could say… Rory wasn't exactly a prude, but this was not something she was particularly comfortable discussing with a doctor or her boyfriend, much less a disinterested cop intent on making her feel like a slut. "Miss Gilmore, do you remember what he was doing?"

"Rory, it's ok, baby, can you remember?" She was tearing up again but trying so hard not to cry as she nodded.

"I woke up and I was on my stomach, and he was…" She was trying so hard to keep it together, but it was like she could feel it all over again, the feeling of him entering her, there. She felt the bile rise up in her throat and before she could stop it she threw up over the side of the bed, on the side Logan wasn't on, thankfully. "Oh my God, Oh fuck, I'm so sorry… shit, that was disgusting, I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened, I just…" She closed her eyes and felt the tears pouring down her face.

The detective just stood in the doorway, asking for a nurse again, he seemed positively annoyed with her at this point, what the fuck? Why did she keep melting down every four seconds, he just wanted to get this statement so he could go home.

"Are you saying he penetrated you vaginally from behind, or anally?" She closed her eyes, trying to breathe, desperately wishing she was anywhere but there. She felt Logan tense next to her, she heard him grip the railing on the bed tighter and hated herself for putting him through all of this, this was so unfair to him. She tried to just nod her head in answer to the question, but he asked for clarification- "I'm sorry, which was it Miss Gilmore- was it vaginal or anal penetration." She just whispered as quietly as she could, "Anal. But… but I don't think it was his… I don't think it was his penis- maybe fingers or something else? I'm not really sure." Fuck, this was almost worse than the actual experience. "I screamed and he hit me again and I passed out pretty soon after." Steeling herself she was determined to finish this story in one go and just be done with it.

"I only came to one more time after that, he was shoving his penis in my mouth, or trying to, but I went to bite it and he stopped and went back to my… he got mad and went back to my vagina and hit me a few more times- that's when he used sat back on my leg- maybe when it broke. And when he… when he was done he leaned in and kissed me, on the mouth, and it tasted like a gym sock… a gym sock soaked in cheap weed and stale beer and he said "thanks doll" and he he took a book from the table he was supposed to pick up and he hit me on the head with it. That's it. That's all I remember."

She was so grateful for the medication that had her relatively calm- she didn't know what the hell she'd be like at this moment without massive amounts of psychopharmaceuticals coursing through her bloodstream. She couldn't make herself look at Logan, she just didn't think she'd be able to handle whatever look was on his face- loathing, pity, guilt, disgust… it didn't matter, she wouldn't be able to handle it. She would take asswipe Detective man's glare over that any day.

"Miss Gilmore, were you drinking at all tonight while waiting for the purchaser?"

"What? Umm, yeah, I was packing up my apartment, I opened a bottle of wine, I had a glass or two over the course of the afternoon… but I was feeling pretty nervous about the party my grandparents were throwing for me- not to mention graduation."

"And drugs, were you using any kind of recreational drugs?"

"Umm, no. That's really not my thing."

"Please remember that we already have blood samples through your kit, do you use recreational drugs?"

"I do not. I've smoked weed like a handful of times in my life - twice I was in Amsterdam and it was totally legal, and I accidentally had a pot brownie one time- someone's best friend mislabeled the pans." That was a story she and Logan usually liked to joke about- apparently she was absolutely hilarious when high, and her infamous Gilmore eating skills were absolutely terrifying. But right now, absolutely nothing felt funny… she kind of felt like she was never going to feel like laughing again.

"And finally, I see that you currently have a Probation Before Judgement in the state of Connecticut- looks like two years ago you stole a yacht?"

Logan stood up at that one, "Hey, that's in the process of being expunged, and even if it wasn't, what possible relevance could there be to this?"

"Sir, I don't think you understand the process here, it's my job to present a full and complete case to the Prosecutor and that means investigating every angle."

"You know what, you have enough information, we're done here."

"Logan, it's fine."

"No, Ace, it isn't fine." He looked at the Detective who just shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, Miss Gilmore, I think I do have enough information for now, I'll leave my card with your friend here and if you think of anything else, you can give me a call." And with that he was out of the room- Logan hot on his heels. The second they were out of earshot of her room, Logan exploded.

"Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell was that? Rory is the most faithful, least dramatic person I've ever known- she's not someone who can lie about whether she actually likes a present or a dish at a restaurant, much less something like this! She was attacked today, she's in pain, she's been through the worst thing a person can go through and instead of asking questions to help you find the fucker who did it, you're grilling her on her sexual history, whether she was drunk or high at the time and if she fought back enough? It's like you're trying to find a way to make this her fault! Un-fucking-believable!"

"Look kid, it's just a fact that the majority of these cases are a matter of things getting out of hand- she said yes, yes, yes and he gets rough and she's trying to cover her tracks- a bit of buyer's remorse. I'm not saying that's what happened here, she looks genuinely beat up and upset, but we have to think about these things, determine if there is enough of a case to continue investigating." Logan didn't think he had ever been so angry in his entire life- he suddenly understood how someone could actually kill someone else, right now he thought he could easily choke the life out of this guy.

But that wasn't going to be productive- he needed to try and stay calm, he needed to leave the room and get some air before he did something he just couldn't come back from that would upset Rory even more. He stormed past the asshole, going out to the waiting room, not sure what to tell the people out there, if he mentioned the questions to Richard or Christopher, there really would be violence- not to mention the possibility of it ever getting back to Luke or any of those protective but certifiable nutjobs in Stars Hollow… or the Life and Death Brigade members… things would get out of control fast. So he just kept walking past them, seeing red in front of him, he needed to get some air outside and if he stopped right now to talk to them, it was going to get ugly. He didn't even hear Christopher calling out his name, telling him to slow down, asking what happened.

He got all the way outside and was standing in a parking lot and just needed to hit something. He looked around for something, anything he could punch and saw a tree 20 feet away. Without stopping to think about it, he ran up to the tree and punched it as hard as he could.