Sorry this is late. I've lost my USB and having lost that I've lost all my stories :' ( and coursework (such a shame really……… not!) so I'm having to write all the previously finished and waiting to update chapters again. Enjoy and lo siento (for the wait) mis amigos!... Oh, this is also the penultimate chapter; I'm finishing this story in the next chapter.

Normal POV continued

The classroom door burst open, and the whole class looked up to watch the mousy girl hand a note over to the teacher before she bolted back to the office hole she'd come from. Losing interest the class went back to their respective learnings (or in Finn's class sleepings), that was until the teacher said, "Lorelai, your presence is required in the office. It seems that your father is here."

Tristan watched as Jess' head snapped round to face Rory, before he himself turned his gaze to her. To his astonishment her face had paled dramatically and her sapphire blue orbs had darkened. If he didn't know any better then he would have said that her eyes held lingering traces of terror and panic, but this was Rory he was talking about, the girls who on her first day had caused some major damage to the school's hierarchy. (cough: Miranda, Paris :p)

Taking a deep breath, Rory steadied her nerves as she slowly began to pack her belongings away. She could sense Jess' eyes boring into the top of her head, but for the time being she decided to ignore him. Well, until she was sure that her emotions weren't flashing like beacons in her eyes, not that that would help much; he could always read her like a book. Taking one more deep intake of the icy air surrounding her, she raised her head and slowly straightened her back. If you didn't know her (as most if her classmates didn't) you'd think that everything was peachy dandy for her, but, if like Jess and Tristan, you happened to know her, you'd have looked beneath the cold persona and seen her as the frightened little girl that the mere mention of Chris had transformed her back into. That and the death grip she kept on the handle of her bag until her knuckles flushed pink, then white, were a dead give away.

She'd promised herself that she'd be strong enough to resist him, just like she'd had to do many times before. Only this time she was extremely shook, because Chris was meant to be rotting away in some county jail far, far away from Hartford. Once again steeling herself against the spiral of emotions being to uncoil inside her, she made her way out of the classroom, though not before giving Jess a sharp glance.

As soon as she was out of the door her once proud back slumped down in defeat before she caught herself and straightened it out again. Clenching her fists by her side, she renewed her vow to not let Chris see the effects he had on her. It was pretty obvious from past experiences that he liked it when she was frightened of him, loved it in fact. He seemed to thrive off the twisted sense of power it seemed to provide him, but Rory would not go down weak and frail, she'd go down kicking and fighting till the bastard was either rotting in jail somewhere or rotting in hell, the latter been much more preferred. Closing her eyes to numb her thoughts and body, she opened them and began the long trek down the hall to Charleston's office, feeling as if death was taking a little detour from his daily routine just to visit her……… It wouldn't have been his first time and probably wouldn't be his last.

Back in the classroom Tristan had been trying to get Jess attention ever since Rory had departed from the room, but to his amazement and disbelief Jess seemed to be studiously ignoring his pointed looks and appeared to be paying attention to anything and everything else………… but him. Signing in frustration, Tristan decided to corner him later and tell him what was up between Rory and her father. Unfortunately, Jess put a hamper in his plans when he suddenly bolted out of the room and dashed down the hall towards the main office. Tristan had seen that something was up with the way Jess had kept glancing at the clock, shaking his leg up and down, fidgeting and twirling his pencil round and round his fingers until it had eventually snapped, made up his mind there and then.

Not one to be left behind, he also grabbed his stuff before sprinting after Jess, ignoring the teacher's incessant calls. Darting down the hallways, the two passed Charleston secretary, halting in front of Charleston's office in time to hear something smash into a thousand pieces and muffled cursing. Exchanging glances they ripped the door open in their haste before quickly ducking down as a metal trophy plate came spinning towards their heads. Gingerly raising up, they exchanged looks again before turning their heads and allowing their eyes to roam over the scene in front of them. And what they saw had their jaws swinging open in shock, eyes darkening in fury and minds unable to process the scene in front of them.

Headmaster Charleston was currently behind his humungous desk, laying unconscious on the limp grey carpet, blood trickling in slow rivets down his sickly pale forehead. In front of the desk was a slightly dishevelled Rory: her hair had been dragged out of it's french plait, her jacket, discarded in a heap near the door and her shirt, ripped in several places, key buttons lost amongst the upturned furniture. However the thing that set the boy's blood racing round their bodies at deadly heights was the fact that Rory was being held over the desk by a tall, dark haired man. His hands fumbling in his haste to remove the rest of her garments while he placed sloppy kisses all over her neck and murmured harsh words into her ears.

A low growl rumbled from Jess' throat as he flew towards Chris, his fist landing solidly on his jaw. Unaware of the rooms other occupants, Chris was caught off guard and stumbled back from Rory, who was pushed to the ground in the process, twisting her ankle as she went down, as he tenderly felt his jaw. Looking up, Jess instantly regretted his decision when Chris' soulless eyes collided with his. Before he could process what had happened he was flat on his back staring dazedly at the ceiling, his ears hearing nothing but a dull roar. Blinking a few times, sound came back to him in a rush and he was assaulted with Rory screaming for him to get up as she clutched his head in her lap. He turned his head to the side and caught flashes of Tristan and Chris as the grappled with each other, hoping to subdue their opponent.

The glass cabinet which had miraculously survived the fist flurry of fists, burst into a million pieces as a right hook from Tristan sent Chris crashing into it. Almost immediantly, Tristan was upon him; pulling his head up before smashing it back down onto the shards of glass. Chris' angry shouts could be heard for miles around as Tristan continued to bash his head onto the glass, well, until Chris rolled them over so that he was on top and able to inflict the same damage Tristan had down to him, only instead of smashing Tristan's head down, he punched it down, again and again.

Rory seeing that Jess was ok, looked up to see how Tristan was doing and blanched when she saw what Chris was doing to him. Gently, she placed Jess' head on the carpet and placed a butterfly kiss to his forehead. Rising up from the ground, she limped over to Chris, grabbed his head back and landed a left hook to his head. This, combined with the damage that Tristan had managed to inflict and Jess's opening punch was enough to knock Chris into oblivion as he slumped onto Tristan's body, who let out a groan of protest at the extra weight suddenly dumped on top of his body.

Reaching out, Rory began to the tedious task of rolling Chris' limp body off of Tristan's. She pulled him up, letting him swing his arm round her waist so that they could both support each other as they made a painful journey to Jess, who was tethering on his feet, holding onto the desk for support and occasionally shaking his head as if to clear the cobwebs from it. Upon reaching him, Jess placed his arm underneath Tristan's round Rory's waist and the three hobbled out of the room and into the waiting arms of their friends who had dashed to the office as soon as they'd caught wind of what was happening. They left behind utter carnage as they made their way to the front of school, past the rushing paramedics and cops who had been notified of the situation by Charleston's secretary.

Pushing open the door, the gang was met by the sight of the setting sun: vivid pinks, sun-burnt oranges, golden yellows and vibrant reds streaked across the cloudless sky. There was always beauty after something ugly had happened, always a rose with a thorn, always light within darkness. It was only a matter of not giving up and seeing things through to the end.