Disclaimer: I will be uploading two chapters today because I feel like this needs to be broken into two. I don't own New Girl or any of the characters.

"Hey Schmidt did you put the dishes in a different cabinet?"

"Sure did, and I put the cups where the dishes used to be."

"Okay." Nick says, confused. "Can I ask why?"

"I needed a change of scene."

"I don't like it, it's confusing."

"What's so confusing about it?"

Nick raises his voice slightly. "I don't see why we have to have change, Schmidt. I don't like it, it's not right. Change is never a good thing."

"What about when Jess moved in?"

He pauses and stares into space.

"That's different."

"Sure."

They are interrupted by the familiar click of the door opening and shutting. Jess heads immediately for the couch and grabs the blanket hanging over the back of it. Cece follows behind her, in the direction of the kitchen and takes a seat beside Schmidt.

"Hey guys." Nick says from behind the wooden cabinet doors.

"Hey Nick. You okay in there?"

"Yeah." He sighs, bringing four cups down onto the table. "Schmidt's just trying to make my life one big obstacle."

"Oh exaggerations Nicholas." He turns to Cece. "I merely changed the locations of the dishes and Nick is having trouble coming to terms with it."

"Do you realize how depressing that sounds?" She asks, digging her phone out from her bag. The guys shrug her comment off.

"Tea or coffee?"

Cece shakes her head respectfully and leans forward, resting her head in the palms of her hands.

"I'm good."

She looks behind her to see Jess lying inwards on the couch, covered with the blanket. She turns back to face Nick and coaxes him in with her index finger.

"Make Jess tea and then go talk to her."

He gives her a confused look.

"Why, is she okay? What happened?"

"Don't worry about that, just talk to her."

Nick nods in sync with Cece and boils the water, tapping his foot impatiently as the steam rises up and condensates against the wall, forming tiny droplets that disappear almost as quickly as they'd appeared. He finds Jess' favourite cup and fills it with the tea they'd bought earlier. He heads over to her, careful not to let it spill, and sets it down on the table. She doesn't look up at him. He sits at her feet.

"Hey Jess." He says softly with a smile on his face. "How was your lunch?"

He tickles beneath her arm, making her jolt. She turns on her side and drops the blanket a few inches down her face. Her tear-glazed eyes are bloodshot and smudged black from her mascara. From what he can see, Nick notices them crease up, as though she were forcing a smile.

"You brought me tea." She mumbles.

"I sure did."

She sniffs and stretches out her arms, like a child wanting to be picked up. She leans in to him and wraps her arms around his neck. He accepts it lovingly and pulls her in, rubbing his hands along her back. She rests her head in the crook of his neck and he feels the warm sensation of her tears drop onto his skin. Not only is it a reaction that he doesn't think twice about, it's also one that he has complete control over. He never had this before. Not with any of his previous girlfriends, not ever did he have such affection within him, pulsing through his veins like it's something he's always known. He doesn't say a word, the gesture says everything that needs to be said. He rocks her back and forth gently in his arms, not concerned about the why and the what, but just of getting her to feel like he's there for her and he isn't going to leave her, a crying mess, cocooned on the couch.

He hears the door open and close again and immediately knows that Cece has forced Schmidt from the loft. He's eternally grateful for her being there, otherwise he'd have probably assumed Jess had just gone to nap or something and would have left her there for the night, completely oblivious to the emotions she's experiencing as she lets out silent sobs onto his t-shirt. She pulls away from him and looks down, tears still falling from her eyes, racing down onto the brown leather of the couch. Nick places a finger under her chin and tilts her head up to look at him, his expression amorous and gentle.

"Hey, I don't like seeing you cry." He says in a low, hushed tone. He wipes her lingering tears away with his thumb and she smiles subtly, closing her eyes as he does so.

"I'm sorry." She chokes.

"Don't be sorry. It's what I'm here for."

He waits to see if she says anything about the reasons behind her sudden breakdown, but she just turns and rests her cheek on his shoulder again, wrapping her arm around his waist. He strokes her hair, which has knotted from being bundled up under the blanket, and kisses the top of her head. He stares at the large white cup on the table, painted with fairies with steam rising from the hot contents inside it. A forgotten gesture in the midst of the moment. He doesn't expect for her to confide in him, not that she has a reason not to, it's just the simple fact that Jessica Day talks a lot about being openly emotional, but rarely practices what she preaches when it comes to the heavier stuff. If she isn't happy with the brand of butter they buy, she'll rant about it for weeks, and even try to assemble a court hearing in the living room to weight out her arguments, but if she feels emotionally vulnerable, she'll lock herself away and hope to mend herself without assistance. It's an unhealthy imbalance that Nick has come to accept about her. And so, he holds her tightly to his chest, hopeful that she'll better before the day is out.

Nick wakes up at two in the morning to hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. He senses the emptiness of the room, bar himself, and immediately picks up on the absence of her usual shallow breathing down his neck as she sleeps. He turns on his side to see thrown back sheets and her clothes have been picked up off the floor. The window is open, drawing in a gentle draft to coincide with the uncomfortable heat his room has. He darts up from his bed and treks through the clutter of clothes and plastic bottles out into the hallway and to the bathroom. The door is slightly ajar, a dim light spilling out across the floor and cast along the wall. He knocks and leans back against the wooden doorframe.

"Hey Jess, you in there?" He half-whispers, not intending on waking up Winston considering he isn't the nicest person when disturbed. He knows that if it so happens that she is in the shower, she'll barely hear him. He debates going in without her consent, I mean, she is his girlfriend. There's hardly anything unusual about him going to his own bathroom, meanwhile, her showering at such an ungodly hour is. Maybe she wants privacy. After today, it seems like the only plausible explanation. After she'd finally stopped crying, she retreated back into his room to nap, probably drained from the hectic few hours she'd had. He still isn't sure as to why she'd been crying, but she'd obviously found sanctuary being alone. Perhaps showering in the dead of night is the only suitable setting for her to be within her own mind set. He hesitates before finally pushing open the door, ignoring the lectures his conscience is yelling at him to turn back and leave her to her own devices.

"Jess?"

She pulls the shower curtain aside, wrapped in a flimsy blue towel with her hair pinned back, the tips dripping.

"Hey Nick, what are you doing up?"

He stands at the door, his hands clasped tightly together as he takes in the sight of her. She steps out of the shower and as soon as she inches toward him, he can already feel his senses being tantalized by the relaxing scent of lavender from her body-wash.

"What am I doing up? What are you doing showering in the middle of the night?"

She frowns.

"I needed to clear my thoughts."

"In the shower?"

"It was the most relaxing place I could think of. Anyway, I didn't get to shower since we got back."

Nick can't help but notice her bloodshot eyes. He makes the ignorant assumption that it's a result of being under hot water that has irritated them, but it seems highly unlikely, considering the shakiness in her voice, masked vaguely by the calm façade she is forcing into it.

"Okay, so are you coming back to bed or?"

"Actually, I might just stay up and catch up on my crocheting. I'm not all that tired."

"Are you alright?" He asks, pushing the conversation in the direction of potentially risky territory. Jess shakes her head and looks down at the tiles on the floor, inhaling deeply.

"I'm fine." She nods. "My sleeping patterns are just crazy at the moment."

She undoes her hair-tie and lets her semi-damp curls fall and tumble down over her shoulders. He stands awkwardly in front of her, sudden fatigue washing over him.

"Okay, well I'm gonna head back to bed. You sure you're okay?" He asks sceptically. She smiles tiredly and nods once more. She could not make it any more obvious that she's hiding something, nevertheless, Nick takes her turning back towards the mirrors as his cue to leave. He kisses her cheek and smiles at her.

"Goodnight Day."

"Night."