A/N: Can I just say one small thing? I'm sure, if you're into this, that you want to ignore my author's note and just rush in and see that cliffhanger I left you with resolved, so I promise, just one thing. If you put my story on your alert list, could you review? I know you must be reading every chapter (you're being alerted, after all) and since you clearly like it enough to take the time to click the necessary buttons so that you can be informed every single time I update, then your opinion would definitely mean something to me, and I would love to get it in the form of a review. That's it. Sorry to start this off on a bitchy note, but as I've said before, this story is my baby and I'd like all the feedback you can give me. Good, bad, critical, constructive, analytic…I'll take it all. Read on!

Lucas Scott had many instincts. When a basketball was handed to him, he felt the need to play. When a book was within reach, he was tempted to read. But his greatest instinct had been honed into somewhat of a craft over the years, and it was the simple, basic, primal need to protect.

To save.

Seeing Rory standing in front of him looking like she'd had the worst night of her twenty-one year existence stirred that need within him. After her soft, broken greeting, his mind stopped working overtime, calmed, and he just began to do what he did best.

Lucas reached out to take both of her hands in his and gently pulled her across the threshold and into the suite, closing the door quietly behind her. "You wanna tell me what happened?" he asked softly.

She inhaled sharply, her chest heaving as she tried not to sob. Slowly, she shook her head. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just didn't…I needed…"

He nodded, reaching out tentatively to rub her arm reassuringly. "It's okay. It's fine. You can stay, and we'll talk it over in the morning."

After a long moment, she nodded, meeting his eyes with grateful relief in her cerulean orbs.

"Okay. Good." He placed a hand on her back and led her into his room, where he seated her on the edge of the bed. He felt her eyes follow him throughout the room as he got an old t-shirt with his high school's insignia on it and a pair of shorts out from his dresser. He placed the clothes in her arms, and her sad eyes gazed at the cotton items with a touch of confusion. Lucas lightly placed his palm under Rory's chin, tilting her head up so that he would be in her line of vision. "Hey. Have you been drinking?"

She sniffled, her eyes cloudy and troubled. "Only a couple glasses of wine," her raw voice told him. "I'm fine. I drove here."

"From?" he prodded, brushing escaped wisps of hair off her face.

"Hartford," she choked out.

"Long drive," he mused aloud, trying to figure out what could have been going on in Hartford that night.

"I just…I needed to…" she trailed off, shrugging helplessly.

"Shh, it's alright. You get changed, okay? I'll make you some coffee."

She nodded, looking back down at the clothes he'd given her. "Thank you." The words left her mouth in a painful hiss. She reached up to tuck nonexistent strands of hair behind her ear, an old nervous habit.

Lucas paused on his way to the door. He reached out and took her hand in his, holding it delicately. "Your knuckles are bleeding." His eyes bored into hers. "Rory, what'd you do?"

"I…punched a door. I was…" She trailed off as if an explanation was just too much for her to handle.

"You don't have to explain," he assured her softly. "Just sit still for a minute, okay?"

She nodded, but she only had to wait mere seconds for him to return with a warm, damp washcloth which he used to clean up the blood on her hand. She studied his concerned expression as he inspected it.

"Nothing too deep," he announced. "You're alright. You feel alright?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I guess."

"Get changed," he told her quietly. He let his hand drift over her shoulder, giving it a quick, comforting squeeze. "Everything's gonna be okay."

It took some funky arm-twisting, but Rory managed to undo the zipper at the back of her mother's beautiful dress, feeling guilty when she noticed the wrinkles throughout it. She walked over to Lucas' closet, happy to find an extra hanger. She carefully hung up the dress, hoping that her mother wouldn't eat her alive when she realized how much the dry-cleaning would cost.'

She realized the shorts Lucas had given her were basketball shorts, and therefore did not have a drawstring, just an elastic waistband. She frowned as she pulled them on. She released them at her hips and they fell right back down to her ankles. "Great," she murmured to herself, stepping out from them and kicking them to the side in frustration. Pulling her bejewelled clip out of her hair, wincing in pain as it yanked out a few brown strands of hair, she tossed it to the side and pulled the t-shirt over her head. It was warm, as if freshly from the dryer, long and cozy. It hit her just above her knees and the sleeves made it past her elbows. Tree Hill High RAVENS was written on the front.

Her cell phone rang. It'd rung countless times on the drive there, but she'd reasoned with herself that talking on a cell phone while driving a vehicle was illegal in Connecticut, and turned up the music to drown the ringing out. The only CD her mother had in the car was Barry Manilow, but Rory would take that over the irritating ring of her phone.

She was aware that she must have had at least twelve messages waiting on her phone. Lorelai was probably panicked. Rory's phone just kept ringing…and ringing…and ringing. Finally, when she knew her messaging service picked up, she grabbed her phone and pressed the button that would allow her to listen to the message as it was recorded.

"Ace," Logan's broken voice said, pure and utter desperation seeping into his tone. "Please," he began, but she couldn't take it anymore. She flung the phone across the room, where it hit the wall and fell to the floor in three pieces.

She stared at it, amazed at herself, when Lucas burst back into the room, looking concerned and bewildered. He looked at his shorts, kicked off to the side, and her phone in pieces on the floor, as well as the tiny bit of paint Rory's cell phone had chipped off the wall. He finally met her eyes, his own blue orbs full of disbelief.

She shrugged sheepishly, feeling tears burning in her eyes. "I broke my phone," she said needlessly.

Lucas nodded, keeping his eyes on her face. She looked young and innocent and tortured. Her legs were pale in contrast to the navy blue tee that covered her down to her thighs. He held out the mug he'd been carrying as though he was making a peace offering. She was clearly falling apart, and it scared him a little. He knew well how to take care of someone, but everyone came apart a little differently, and he didn't yet know how it would go with her. "Elixir of life," he told her with a small smile as he pressed the cup in her hands.

Her hands shook as she accepted it, sitting down weakly on the bed and bringing the cup to her lips as she softly thanked him again.

Lucas watched her in careful incredulity as she downed the entire cup of coffee in less than two minutes. "You must have built up some kind of immunity to caffeine," he joked lightly, taking the cup out of her hands and placing it on top of his dresser, safely away from the edge.

She just sat there on the edge of his bed, trembling.

"Okay," he said softly. "You can sleep in here," he said, standing and pulling back the blankets so that she could climb into his bed. "I'll go sleep on the couch." Her reaction to those words would tell him how it was going to go.

She looked up at him with needy eyes and he nodded to himself. That was how it was, he understood.

Without another word, he got into his bed and pulled her with him. He pulled a single sheet up over them and then wrapped her in a tight embrace, resting his chin atop her head.

When she started to sob into his shirt, he wasn't surprised. When she pulled away thirty minutes later, mortified, he knew what to say to comfort her. When she insisted that she was alright, only to end up curling back into his arms five minutes later, he'd seen it coming. And when she started to cry again, only to have her choked breathing even out into the steady pattern of sleep, he waited a full fifteen minutes before allowing himself to give into sleep, pressing a reassuring kiss to her temple.

Rory awoke early in the morning; she could tell it was somewhere between five and six o'clock from the blue-ish quality of the light leaking in around the curtains. She sighed and snuggled closer to the blonde boy next to her. His hair lightly ruffled when she exhaled, and she smiled, reaching up to run her fingers through it.

Slowly, it occurred to her that everything was not as it should be. With a confused glance around, she realized that she was not at home…she was in a familiar style of room, a dorm room at Yale, but it was not one she recognized. Sitting up slowly, she spotted her cell phone lying in pieces on the floor. It was then, as her expression slowly grew horrified, that she turned to the man lying next to her, peacefully asleep. A man that was completely and totally not her boyfriend.

"Oh my God!" she cried, but she was not the only one who spoke those words.

She turned at the two new voices to see Colin and Finn standing in the doorway of the room, jaws dropped and eyes huge.

"You have got to be kidding me, Rory Gilmore," Colin said tersely, and then everything flew back with intense force.

Logan. Girls. Lots of girls. Cheater. Fight.

Running away. To Lucas. For comfort. Tears.

But that was it. He'd been perfect to her. He'd gotten her clothes and asked her the important questions, but he'd also left his other questions alone until later. He hadn't forced her to talk about it, or explain why she flung her cell at the wall; he'd just handed her a nice big cup of coffee. He'd held her as she cried, mumbling incoherently, and soothed her when she ran out of tears and embarrassment set in. And when new tears somehow managed to make their way to her eyes, he held her again so that she could finally let her tired eyes rest and sleep.

He'd taken impeccable care of her, and she knew that she needed to inform Colin and Finn of that, and assure them (repeatedly) that there'd been no sex, but all she could do was stare at Lucas, impatiently waiting for him to wake up and do the explaining instead. She also couldn't help noting in the back of her mind how very in shape he was. In some other universe, where they woke up alone, she would have made a nervous joke about being ripped.

Lucas, feeling her stare, awoke next to her, and lazily blinked. He pushed himself up from his position on his stomach, resting his weight on his elbows as he looked at them. All three of them stared back. Rory knew that her eyes were filled with panic as she waited for his reaction and his explanation. "Oh," he said quietly. "Oh, God," he then said in realization.

Rory looked back at Colin and Finn to gauge their thoughts. Their faces made it all clear. They were totally stunned. She looked back down at herself and her eyes widened when she realized that she was wearing only one of Lucas' t-shirts and her underwear. With a glance to the boy at her left, she saw that he was only wearing a pair of sweatpants. She knew that they both looked guilty as hell.

"Not good," Lucas finally said, turning around and sitting up all the way. "Okay, guys, let's go talk about this," he said, addressing him roomies. He turned to Rory and gently ran the back of one of his fingers over her cheek. "You okay?" he asked softly, his words meant only for her ears.

In that moment, she couldn't have cared less about what Finn and Colin thought. She appreciated his kindness more than she'd ever be able to tell him. She placed her own slender hand over his strong one and smiled, leaning into his touch. "I'll be alright."

He nodded as he got up, shepherding the boys from the room. "I'm gonna make coffee. Wear anything you can find that fits."

She offered him a weak smile and flopped back down onto the bed the moment the door closed, letting her eyes fall shut again. This sucked. It really, really sucked.

"What the hell is going on?" all three men demanded in unison.

"Are you seriously asking us that?" Colin yelled, throwing his hands in the air. "Do you even know what's going on? Or were you two a little too busy to talk?"

Lucas glared at him. "Rory showed up here at about one o'clock in the morning a complete mess. She looked like she'd been to hell and back when she got here. She threw her phone against the wall and she cried for about an hour before she fell asleep. So no, I didn't exactly get the story," he concluded, his eyes flashing. He didn't know Colin and Finn well, but he thought they'd know better than to assume that he'd take advantage of the girlfriend of one of their best friends.

"Oh, good lord of all things alcoholic," Finn muttered as he began to pace. Lucas watched him warily. "She came to you for comfort," he mused, clearly stunned that Rory would chose Lucas, out of all people. "Dear God."

"One of you want to explain to me what happened?" Lucas asked, his patience wearing thin. He wanted to know what had driven the shy-yet-bubbly girl he'd met such a short time ago to her breakdown.

"Right, okay, just let me…" Finn, for such a cool and perpetually buzzed guy, looked extremely flustered. "I gotta call Lorelai before she kills herself worrying." He pulled his cell phone out and dialled quickly. "Hey…Lorelai? It's Finn. She's okay."

Lucas could hear a fast gush of worried words garbled together on the other end of the phone. Finn listened intently, then held his phone away from his ear to ask, "Why isn't her cell on?"

"She threw it across the wall," Lucas told him again. "She was upset," he understated.

"Uh huh. Uh huh. No, I just found out. She's, um…at our suite. No, we haven't been here. No, she wasn't alone. Our new roommate was here, he's from…yeah, that's his name. He took care of her."

All three of them waited. The voice on the other end of the phone was silent for a moment. Finn nodded to himself when it began to speak again. He looked over at his new roommate. "Will she talk to her mom?"

Lucas shrugged and held up a finger to indicate that they should wait a second. He rapped on the door of his room with his knuckles and stepped in quickly without waiting for a response, closing the door behind him. "Oh," he said stupidly when he looked at Rory. "Sorry."

She was wearing a pair of his plaid pyjama pants which were incredibly baggy on her, but she had nothing on top but her bra, which was black and lacy, meant to be seductive.

She just stared at him, shocked. She opened her mouth a couple times but didn't actually speak. "It's okay," she finally squeaked out, and he snapped back to life.

"God, sorry," he said again and turned around immediately, but not before seeing the skin on her face, neck, shoulders and chest turn a deep pink. "I didn't mean to –"

She put a stop to his rushed apology. "I would never think that," she said softly. "Not after last night." There was some rustling before she declared, "You can turn around now."

He did, and smiled slightly when he saw that she was still blushing, an emotion he couldn't put his finger on swirling in her eyes. She'd thrown on a black wife-beater, which bagged on her small frame. She looked so tragically beautiful in her grief that he couldn't help the sudden surge of jealously that consumed him when she realized that the take-me-now bra she was wearing was meant for another guy's pleasure. Valiantly focusing on the task at hand, he said, "Finn's on the phone with your mom. You want to talk to her?"

She heat faded from her cheeks as she locked her eyes on the floor. After a long, pregnant pause, she gave a slow shake of her head. She looked back up hesitantly to meet his eyes, as though searching for his approval.

"Okay," he said calmly. "I'll have Finn tell her that."

In lightning-quick steps, she was suddenly right next to him, standing on tiptoe to throw her arms around his neck in a thankful hug. She murmured something he couldn't make out into his shoulder, but he knew, from the way she held him, what she meant. Without thinking, he brushed a soothing kiss to her hairline before leaving the room, closing the door directly behind him once again.

Colin and Finn looked at him expectantly. He shook his head. "Doesn't want to talk to her."

Finn sighed and put the phone back to his ear. "Sorry, Lorelai. Yeah, I think it would be." He paused, taken aback. "Well, yeah. Sure." He held out his cell phone, befuddled. "She wants to talk to you," he told Lucas as though it was the strangest possible idea.

Lucas shrugged, willing to go along with it, and put the phone to his ear, curious to hear the voice of the woman that had gotten pregnant at sixteen with the devastated girl who'd just platonically spent the night in his bed. "Hello?"

"Why, hello to you too, Lucas." She had a pretty voice that had a permanently light-hearted overtone, even in this serious moment. Her words were tinged with irony and purposefully casual, but he picked up on the panic behind them. Her voice was raw, as Rory's had been, from tears and hours of agonizing worry.

"Hi, Ms. Gilmore," he replied.

"It's Lorelai," she said, and he recognized it as an automatic response. "I hear that you've been getting rather cozy with my daughter…?"

She was like a mother bear, he could tell from the inflection in those eleven words. She may have had Rory when she was only a teenager, but she was an adult now with power and deep-rooted protective instincts; her one and only child was obviously top priority. She reminded Lucas of his own mother, who would have sacrificed the world to make sure he was safe. He was cautious with his words as he ventured, "She came over here last night, really upset. I just made sure she was okay. Nothing's going on."

Lorelai exhaled and made a sound that may or may not have been a small sob. "I would really like to believe that you're as good and sweet a kid as you sound."

"I'd like that too."

"Can you…h-have Rory call me, when she's ready?"

"Of course."

"And can you…" she took a deep breath before continuing: "Can you tell her to remember what I said? And that I love her."

"Definitely."

"Listen…she won't talk to anyone else right now, so I really have no choice put to trust you with her. But she's my baby, and I swear to god, Lucas, if you hurt her, I will hunt you down."

Mother bear was right. "Understood."

"Take care of her," Lorelai said mournfully, and then hung up.

"So?" Finn and Colin spoke together.

Lucas handed back the phone. "She told me to have Rory call as soon as she was ready. One of you want to tell me what the hell happened last night?"

"Things got ugly at casa Gilmore," Colin sighed. "Rory and Logan had a fight."

Lucas nodded slowly as things fell into place. "About…?"

Colin sighed again, looking uncomfortable. "She thinks he cheated on her."

Lucas arched a single blonde eyebrow. "Really, she thinks? Because that," he said, gesturing to the door of his room and indicating the girl behind it, "was not the face of the girl who thinks her boyfriend cheated on her, that was the face of a girl who had some pretty damn solid evidence."

"You don't understand," Colin said instantly, but he was interrupted by the appearance of a fiery-eyed brunette.

She threw open the door of Lucas' room and glared at them all as she stormed out, headed directed for the coffeemaker. She looked a little comical, marching through the suite angrily in Lucas' clothes, but none of them dared to even smile.

"If I hear the words you don't understand one more time, Colin, I swear to god I will break your neck. Rory and Logan did not get in a fight. Rory and Logan broke up because Rory learned that Logan is a cheating ass whom she never should have trusted." She slammed the coffee pot down on the last word so forcefully that Lucas was relieved to note that it didn't break.

"I'm sorry, Rory," he said softly. He walked over and gave her a calming, one-armed hug, gently prying her cup of coffee from her hands. "Maybe we should sit down and try to talk this out. Colin and Finn seem to know something you don't," he added, glancing at the room's other two occupants for confirmation. They both nodded excessively.

"I don't care what they know, and I cannot listen to you defend Logan for one second," she said, blinking back tears as she reached for her coffee.

Keeping his reasonable attitude, Lucas said, "Okay. That's fine. I get it, I understand it, you've obviously been hurt very badly by this and all of that makes sense, and I'm very sorry. But why won't you talk to your mom?"

Her tears spilled over onto her cheeks and his heart ached for her. What kind of guy would screw up something like his relationship with this girl? What could have possibly driven him away from Rory? "So I can listen to her say I told you so? No thanks."

"She's just worried about you, love," Finn interjected.

Lucas, who still had his arm around her, gave her another comforting squeeze. "She said to remind you of what she said before…I'm guessing you know what that was?" At her small nod, he continued, "She also wanted to make sure that you know she loves you. She just needs to be sure you're okay."

"I know," Rory whispered, placing her mug down so that she could wipe at the tears on her cheeks. "I know. I messed up and she knows it, but she's still worried. It just…it hurts too much. I can't face her yet. I can't talk to her yet."

Rory looked up tentatively, letting her eyes dart over to meet Colin's, then Finn's, before settling her gaze back on Lucas' face.

She saw the comprehension in his eyes and wanted to kiss him for it. He understood this better than the other two boys. They grew up in society with countless stepparents. When their parents were disappointed in them, they rolled their eyes, downed some alcohol, and worried only about their trust funds.

Rory had spent part of her life in that world, yes, but in her early childhood, under Lorelai's watchful eye, she grew up with the opposite circumstances. As a little girl, Rory had books and her mother, and that was all she needed. Lorelai was (always had been, always would be) the most permanent, important thing in Rory's life. Her role model, her caretaker, her confidante. Having that person, that one person so instrumental in your life that you were connected in infinite ways, disappointed in you was akin to being punched in the stomach. Repeatedly.

Lucas, she knew from their brief conversation, had that same consistency in his own relationship with his mother. He, of all people, could understand what it was like to look into that person's eyes and see that combination of shame, pity, love, and encouragement. It hurt. She could tell by the way he looked at her that he knew.

Last night, and in that moment, his simple understanding proved to be enough.

Lucas sighed as the umpteenth episode of Full House began to play on the screen in front of him. He wanted to put a stop to the madness, but every time he looked over at Rory and saw her smile, he thought, Okay, just one more episode.

Rory, he quickly learned, coped with things much better when coffee and mass amounts of junk food were involved. She was currently working her way through a large bowl containing a mixture of extra-buttery popcorn, M&Ms, and Sour Patch Kids. He'd reached over for a handful at one point only to encounter a withering stare that clearly stated that she expected him to arrange for his own gigantic mess of candy if he wanted one.

They'd been camped out on the couch since mid-morning, and he could tell that she was putting off taking her leave. She looked much happier, even cozy in his clothes, which were oversized on her. Colin and Finn left shortly after their arrival, telling Lucas that they were off to inform everyone that Rory was not lying dead in a ditch, but safely in a dorm room at one of the world's most prestigious and expensive universities.

She noticed his staring and simply smiled back. "What're you looking at me for?" she asked softly. "John Stamos is right there is all his glory," she added as she gestured to the TV.

His eyebrows shot up as he asked, in his most neutral tone, "So, are we going to talk about this, or what?"

Her eyes immediately shot back down into her bowl of candy. He reached out and pulled it from her, leaving her with nothing to cling to. He needed her to open up and explain herself a little.

"I really wanted to trust him," she told her hands.

"I know you did."

Her lips twisted into a bitter, ironic smile. "That was stupid of me, huh?"

"You gave him a fair chance, Rory, it was good of you, noble of you."

"No…not that. I was stupid to think that I'd be enough."

He felt his face crease in confusion as he watched her, his concern seeping into his soothing voice: "What do you mean?"

She shrugged pitifully. "He changed everything for me. His whole lifestyle. It was stupid of me to think that I would be enough to keep him there."

"No, it wasn't," he assured her automatically, and then paused for a moment before saying anything else. He didn't really know what his relationship with Rory was. On paper, they had agreed to be friends, but in reality, they were in an awkward but pleasant stage in which they were acquaintances yet friends, friends and yet, more. He needed to tell her, to clear his conscience, so that no matter what happened, he would be completely guilt-free. "For what it's worth to you now, Rory Gilmore, Logan loves you. I can tell."

"Yeah, well, it's worth the twenty girls he slept with when we were supposedly 'broken up'," she said mournfully, throwing in sarcastic air quotes around her last words.

He placed his hands over her fidgety ones. "One day you're going to tell me that whole story."

"But not today?" she asked, her relief palpable.

"Not today," he said, sifting through the emotional turmoil in her eyes as he tried to get a feel for what was going on in that head of hers. "Maybe tomorrow."

She took a quick breath in, breathing the way people breathed when they were trying not to have a total hysterical breakdown. "He betrayed me so badly, but I still love him so much. It'll go away, though, won't it? I'll stop loving him one day…right?"

The way she looked at him conveyed how much she needed a positive response. He reached out to push her tangled hair out her heartbreaking baby blues. "Of course you will," he said, knowing fully from his personal experience that it was the truest lie he'd ever told.

A/N: Remember how I told you that in the end, you will be happy? Okay, not everyone will, but I suspect the majority of you will be pleased. I definitely know who you're all shipping for. Hold on to that, and keep reviewing to let me know what you're thinking.