A/N: This chapter coincides with "Nobody is Ever Missing" so this wraps up the first season! Enjoy!

Once Kendall knew his father was coming, the pounding in his head became incessant. To have to navigate the wedding and secret teleconferences with Stewy and Sandy alongside Logan looming in all of the corners of the castle seemed impossible to Kendall; he wasn't sure he had the cognitive and emotional wherewithal. But there was Jess, flitting about him, busy as ever, keeping some noise at bay. Her steadiness convinced him that he, in fact, might be able to actually accomplish this, even if he did have to white knuckle it like the fucking mess he was.

"So, what are you gonna do? While I have to go down and fucking pretend that I love all these people?" he asked Jess after coming out of the bedroom, dressed for the cocktail reception.

"I'm going into town and having a nice quiet dinner at…" she checked the reservation app on her phone, "The Malthouse."

"Ah, nice."

"And I'll be back by nine."

"Right."

"Text me if you need anything."

Kendall nodded as he adjusted his cufflinks; his hands were quivering. What he needed was a fucking line. There was a knock at the door, but Stewy didn't wait to be let in. And he didn't hide his surprise at seeing who was in the room.

"Ken—oh, hey—Jess—" he finally got it right.

"Hi," she said shortly, before disappearing out the door.

"Dude—" Stewy pointed to the door, "did you tell her about—"

"She comes with the-" Kendall gestured to the set up at the table.

"Oh right, sure," Stewy nodded knowingly.

"And, hey, she doesn't know about any of my, uh—"

"That you're doing coke again?"

"I just want to keep it professional—"

"Of course, of course," Stewy zipped his thumb across his lips, "your secret is safe with me. I'll be sure to shuffle her out when the time comes. Shall we?"

They left the sitting room and started down the hall toward the main staircase.

"Hey, I don't have a date for the wedding," Stewy purred, "do you think she's is available?"

"Jess fucking hates you, man."

"Ah, my favorite kind," Stewy patted Kendall on the back and jogged ahead of him toward the party.

Jess was back by nine from her dinner break. Kendall had given her his second key card so that she could slip in easily during the party. And, as she was coming down the hall, she saw Kendall on the phone, finishing up a call.

"Hey," he said simply.

Jess blinked a few times at him. He was holding a flute of champagne, and he didn't even register that she had noticed. His eyes were red, tired. She immediately knew that the last few hours had not gone well for him. Emanating major downward spiral vibes.

"Are—you OK?" She asked, feeling deflated at the sight of him and trying to ignore the alcohol.

"Yeah," Kendall fidgeted with his lapel, "I'm fine. Hey—later on—would you—"

Stewy called from the sitting room, "Kendall—"

Kendall grew flustered for a moment and entered the sitting room, annoyed, "OK, what is this, I was in the middle of a conversation—"

"Dude, I'm super-sorry—Jess, could you give us a second?"

"No. Stew. Seriously."

"Ken, I got Sandy on the line—"

Kendall gave her a nod, and she nodded discreetly and dipped out. She knew her level of confidentiality clearance and was happy to spend as little time with Stewy as possible.

But she had nowhere to go.

If they were on an unscheduled call, it meant things were progressing. And if things were progressing, she would need to be around. Jess slid the key card through the reader and slipped into Kendall's bedroom. She tossed her bag on the chair and then flopped down onto the bed, checking emails on her phone instead of worrying that Kendall had been drinking. Would he fall further down the rabbit hole? She was too weary to think how broken her heart would be if that were true.

Jet lag was creeping in. She had just begun to doze when there was a knock on the internal door—from the sitting room.

"Hey, Jess," Stewy called.

"What the fuck," she muttered under her breath, before straightening herself and answering the door.

"Kendall went to go do some—I don't know—sibling bonding or some shit," he explained, "seems as though the first draft might be coming through within the hour. I need you to—"

"Draft edits?"

"Yeah."

Much to Jess' astonishment, Stewy was professional. He was quick and especially agile with document edits, she noticed. And he was actually quite sharp and easy to work with; Stewy was quite clear and knew what he wanted. A refreshing change of pace. They worked together for about an hour until Kendall reappeared.

"Hey, the night shift is here," Stewy stretched, "I'll pass the baton to you—we've sent back the first draft, and we're waiting on the second, yeah? Oh also, I've proposed to Jess and we're thinking of a June wedding, right?"

"Yes, but what Stewy doesn't know is that I'm fucking his mother," Jess focused on the laptop screen, typing a thank you email for the second draft.

"See?" Stewy laughed in spite of himself, "we're friends now."

"Uh-huh. Fantastic," Kendall gestured to the door, "tomorrow morning? Here? Seven?"

"Seven it is," Stewy nodded. And he was gone.

"Fuck," Kendall whispered and rubbed his eyes, "OK, so where are we on this?"

"Awaiting a second draft," Jess glanced at the clock, "but after they send it, I think it'll be quiet for the night. Ken, what… happened? The call wasn't on the schedule."

"I—hinted to Frank—there was a reporter—"

"Oh, fuck—"

"And yeah, they're afraid of leaks," Kendall took off his coat, "so they're accelerating to… this weekend."

"This weekend?"

"Tomorrow."

"Fuck. OK."

If she says fuck one more time…

"I'm gonna change," he said, "and make some calls."

Jess nodded. And waited. She listened as Kendall started making what would be a series of hurried phone calls to investors—and two lawyers. Jess put her head down for ten minutes to cat nap. Ten minutes turned into fifteen and then...

Forty-five minutes later, the laptop pinged, jolting Jess awake, and the second draft had come through. Jess dove into it immediately, updating Kendall on the changes that had come back. She and Kendall made the necessary edits and sent it back within the hour.

The mantel clock struck one.

Kendall, sitting next to Jess at the worktable, heaved a large sigh and lowered his head. Very gingerly and without a word, Jess laid her hand on his back. She kept it there as long as she felt she needed to, which ended up being five minutes, while she scrolled through Asian market openings.

Just five minutes of the two of them, sitting together, in a castle on the eve of Shiv and Tom's wedding, sending out drafts of the bearhug letter that would take down Kendall's father. But he his mind was too much of a jumbled mess to enjoy the steady warmth of her hand on his back.

Jess pushed her chair out and stretched, grabbing a tablet. Kendall watched tiredly as she ambled over to the couch, flopped down onto it, and kicked her shoes off. He rubbed the rough stubble on his face as he looked at her, and, as his heart pounded, his life seemingly was spinning out of his control. As exhausted as he was, he didn't want the next day to arrive; the dread he felt for the letter—a letter that would mean his ultimate triumph—was nearly unbearable. And if he went to sleep, it would mean tomorrow would come even more quickly.

On the other side of the room, Jess sighed, tipping her head back, tired, scrolling through the tablet and aimlessly refreshing her email for any rogue updates.

"Hey—" he said softly, standing up.

She waited and closed her eyes. They'd been here before, and she could sense what was coming.

Kendall sat down on the couch next to her.

Alone. No interruptions now. Alone.

Kendall only briefly met her gaze before keeping his eyes lowered, and his thumb twitched as he fought an urge to unbutton her suit jacket; what he wanted was purely ridiculous, but a large part of him felt like being reckless. Jess cocked her head to one side and gave him a heavy glance as she propped her arm against a pillow to face him. She braced herself.

Kendall then laid his arm out across the couch, his fingertips moving up her sleeve and brushing the inside of her forearm.

"This is a bad idea," Jess whispered, almost inaudibly, as her eyes went back on the screen.

Kendall then looked at her with a small, weary smile and nodded, "Mmmhmm."

"This…will not end well," she inched closer as she tossed the tablet on the end table.

"It's late," he said, "stay."

"I'm not fucking you," she stated, holding his gaze like a hostage, as she curled up on the couch.

"Um. O—OK," he stumbled as he was jolted into reality.

"Tonight, at least."

Kendall blinked a few times, speechless.

"I mean, I thought about it," Jess found that she enjoyed fucking Kendall in this way.

"You…did…?" his eyes grew wide.

"Haven't you?"

"Uh—" Any answer to that seems like a trap.

"I mean, if we are lighting this place on fire tomorrow, why douse ourselves with gasoline tonight? Why add to the chaos?"

"A vivid—"

"But," Jess rose from the couch and untucked her shirt, "do you have a t-shirt I could borrow? Boxers, maybe?"

"What?"

"That six-minute drive seems awfully arduous right now," she yawned and performed a casual stretch.

"Um—yeah," Kendall couldn't help but dash to the bedroom to rummage through his suitcase to find clothes for her. He turned to present them to her and found that she had followed him into the bedroom.

"I call dibs on the bathroom first," she took the clothes from him and shut the bathroom door behind her tightly.

He heard the lock latch. Utterly confused, stressed, and incredibly surprised, Kendall got ready for bed. Jess came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, in his t-shirt and shorts. He held his hand to his forehead, a loss for words, at the sight of her.

"What—what are we doing? What is this?"

"We're going to sleep, Kendall," Jess explained as she crawled under the duvet, "because I'm tired, and I want to get a few hours in before I have to sneak out at dawn tomorrow morning, like the fucking Montague I am, so that I can get changed and be back here at seven."

He shook his head slightly, admitted that she was technically right, and got into bed next to her. They laid in darkness for a few minutes, wondering if the other was falling asleep.

"Maybe," his voice broke through the deep silence, "maybe after all this—we could, you know—"

He could feel her turn her body to him in the dark.

"'I know' what?"

"Um, well—" Kendall took a breath and pretended to adult, "things are insane right now—and will only get more insane—and—"

"We could give it a go after all this?"

"Yeah—" the idea of it crystallized in his mind; it felt nice.

"Keep things simple for now," she said softly.

"Yeah. Simple."

Kendall turned on his side and reached out to Jess, finding her cheek in the dark. He was reminded of the time they slept on the couch back in the desert. He snaked his arm around her and pulled her close to his chest. He'd secured that feeling—that feeling of not wanting to move from her arms, the weight of her body against his. He had it again, in that moment, finally. And Jess was right there with him; she nuzzled into the crook of his neck and laid her lips on his skin with a light kiss. Kendall still didn't want to go to sleep, but he slept better that night than he had in years—three, to be exact.

It had snowed sometime during the night. Jess woke with a deep breath and momentarily could not place where she was as she stared at the damask bed canopy above her. The even rise and fall of Kendall's chest as she lay curled against him reminded her.

"Oh, fuck," she murmured to herself as her blinking eyes came into focus.

Her mind shouted reminders and the schedule for the day. Clear, but chaotic. She shut her eyes again and nestled herself back into the nook between Kendall's arm and chest. It was a nice place to be. Her throat was dry, and she had no idea what time it was—maybe 5:45?—and she struggled with that ache of exhaustion that only jet-lag could provide. But if she could just steal a few more moments there—in that nook—it would fuel her day.

Jess cringed as she realized how easily she could get used to this.

Kendall didn't open his eyes. Kendall pretended to be asleep. Kendall held onto her for dear life.

At six, Jess' alarm went off. She groaned softly before forcing herself out of bed. Kendall watched her as she stood at the window for a brief moment, rubbing the sleep from her face. He saw her nod at some internal thought and then turn to gather her clothes from the chair. As she turned back and shuffled to the bathroom, Jess jumped, startled by Kendall being awake.

"Sorry—I—"

"Oh my god, I thought you were still asleep—"

"I'm not being creepy, I just—"

She waved his words away drowsily to stop him from talking and ducked into the bathroom to change.

As Kendall jumped out of bed, there was a knock at the front door.

"Who is it?" he called; his question made Jess nearly topple over into the tub.

"Coffee, sir."

Morning coffee Jess had requested for him when she'd made the reservation.

When your own efficiency ends up scaring the crap out of you, she thought as she pulled on her skirt; she'd been five seconds from climbing out the window.

Jess waited patiently in the bathroom until the room service attendant was gone. When she appeared in the sitting room, Kendall had a cup waiting for her.

"No, that's for you," she said, "I've got to go. I'll be back."

"Um—yeah—" he stood by as she shoved her feet into her shoes and grabbed her bag.

"See you in a bit?" she called quietly to him before disappearing out the door.

He nodded and took a sip of her coffee, wondering what was real and what wasn't.

By the time Jess had returned forty-five minutes later, she was business as usual: professional clothes, hair smoothed, smelling absolutely wonderful, as usual, without any hint of ever having worn any of his clothes.

Stewy and Kendall reviewed the final terms and instructions from Sandy, but with the ceremony at 11, they had to leave. Jess was to hold down operations until they returned. Yet by the time the guests and wedding party had returned to the castle for lunch and pictures, things had quickly accelerated. Soon, everything was something of a blur.

Upon reflection, the highlight of Jess' day was scurrying through the castle, searching for the printed letter (found in the castle gift shop by the entrance), hoping to avoid detection…and the low point of Jess' day was scurrying through the castle, searching for the printed letter and making pointed eye contact with Colin in the great hall.

When Kendall returned from the delivery, he was looking battered. Jess shuddered to think what Logan had said, sometimes she could bring herself to imagine and other times she could not. Kendall was increasingly getting to that place, she'd noticed; the place he'd gotten to three years earlier when she'd found him on his bathroom floor—she could feel it at the base of her stomach. Though a huge conscious part of her did not want to admit it. Instead, she tamped it down, tucked it away, and focused on other things. Like writing a memo or scheduling meetings for when they returned to New York. Just anything else instead of focusing on what was manifesting before her—and she, powerless to stop it, yet again.

The rest of the day for her was confined to Kendall's sitting room. Stewy popped in and out more than Kendall did, checking on things, goading her into having a cocktail with him. Kendall, meanwhile, was preoccupied. The third time he entered the room without acknowledging her presence, Jess stopped him.

"Hey—Kendall—"

"Mm?" was all he gave her; he seemed to be searching for something. He spied a small box on the coffee table and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

"You OK?"

"…Yeah," he responded in a low tone. "You keep asking me that. Everyone keeps asking me that."

"It looks like we're all set on our end, so—"

"Yeah—yeah," he went to the bathroom, "I'm just—about to head down to the cocktail hour and then there's the reception, so—"

"Yeah—"

"You can, um," he grasped the knob on the bathroom door in an attempt at being casual, "you can go. For the night."

"You sure?"

"Yep," his voice was weird, "yeah—go enjoy yourself. Charge your dinner."

Jess opened her mouth a little to say something but settled on a furrowed brow instead. Her heart started to pound as she watched him slip into the bathroom. She felt ill.

Without another word, Jess gathered her things and left, but it was only until she was back at her own Airbnb that she'd realized she'd forgotten the key card Kendall had given her—where is it?

Kendall had paced the bathroom until he heard her leave and then hurriedly broke out the box. Inside was the small vial he had been thinking about since lunch. He needed her out—and away—because the only thing he wanted that night was to get fucked up. And he didn't want her to see it happen.

That night, Jess chose to have dinner at another local restaurant and then a drink at the local pub. It was too cold to walk around town, and she was exhausted—perhaps she wouldn't get to see England after all. By nine-thirty, she was passed out in the uncomfortable bed at her Airbnb and enjoyed a deep sleep, save for two brief interruptions: fireworks from the wedding at around 11:30 and a lone wailing siren at 5.

But after such a good night's sleep, Jess woke refreshed and ready to tackle whatever shitstorm the aftermath of the bearhug could throw at her. She called for the car at nine a.m. and made the short journey up to Eastnor Castle. Along the winding drive, she noticed a black SUV driving in the opposite direction and felt an involuntary drop in her stomach. Jess blinked once and squinted her eyes slightly.

For years, she had honed that skill—the skill to find Kendall from a distance, in a crowd, across the room—to alert him of breaking news, a stock price drop, a terror threat, a lunch delivery—and her eyes focused. As the cars passed one another, she saw a figure, hunched and alone, in the backseat of the SUV. She waved a little, confused, but he either did not see or—did he ignore it? Was it even him? It didn't even make any sense. A relative, maybe. She must've been mistaken.

She turned and looked in the rear window as the SUV grew smaller in her view. Jess whipped back around and jabbed at her phone. Kendall's phone went straight to voicemail. She called again. And again. But no answer.

As the car neared the castle, Jess hopped out, making the rest of the journey on foot as usual, and dug into her bag to look for the key card, but she reminded herself that she'd left it in the room. How was she to get in…?

She crept to the side door. Kendall was not waiting.

"Dammit," she whispered as she stepped back.

There was a crunching underfoot. Jess brought her attention down to the ground and saw broken glass. The strange feeling in her stomach intensified. Had that glass been there the whole time?

She ran back around to the front entrance, thinking of the unattended office equipment in the sitting room. Where was Stewy? There was no time to call him now; the computers' security was now at risk. Did Kendall take the computers with him wherever he may have been going? Was there an email she had missed? Was that even him in the car? Jess racked her brain; the image was too brief. She felt like she couldn't trust her own senses.

Jess took a deep breath and walked up the front entrance. It seemed people were still eating breakfast, but some were milling about the great hall. Jess steeled herself and tried to make a beeline for the stairs to make it up to the room without drawing attention.

"And there's his Girl Friday," she heard a voice behind her as her foot hit the first step.

Jess spun around and found Roman Roy delicately deconstructing the pickle-onion-celery garnish from the Bloody Mary he was holding in his hand.

"Where is—"

"Oh, you're looking for Mr. Brightside?" Roman crunched into a cornichon, "yeah, he's gone."

"Gone—What—"

"Yup," he sighed, "back to rehab. Perfect timing, too—with everything. Motherfucker."

Roman turned to go, and then spoke over his shoulder as he went back for a second helping of eggy pegs, "don't bother picking him up this time. Just fucking leave him there."

Jess stood on the stair for a moment, feeling a sob well in her chest. She held the back of her hand to her mouth to suppress it before continuing upstairs.

"Ms. Jordan," another voice, this time softer, came from behind her.

Jess stopped and a chill overtook her. Before she could even turn around, she knew who it was.

"Come with me," Colin said.

Jess followed him obediently to the front entrance, sucking in her tears so her face would be dry when she looked at him.

"I just need to get up to Mr. Roy's room and retrieve some items—" Jess said quietly.

"We can't let you do that."

"I work for Kendall Roy—"

"I am aware of that," Colin took a step toward her, knowing what he was doing. Jess did not step back, "but right now, you are not a guest of Ms. Roy or Mr. Wambsgans, and you are trespassing."

The words seemed to hiss through the hall and a few guests, all white, turned and looked at Jess. She swallowed once and looked around. The reminder was loud and clear: she had been allowed there for a while, but Colin had made it clear that she did not belong.

The power that Colin wielded over her was familiar, but infuriating. There would be no getting the computers. There would be no finding out where Kendall actually was.

"Ms. Jordan," he repeated in an even voice as he towered over her, "I'm going to have to ask you to sign—"

Jess was shocked, but cut in, "I'm not signing anything without a lawyer present."

"Very well," Colin was cool, " but I need you to answer some questions as well."

"No, I'm not answering anything," she countered, the hair on her neck rising.

"Then you need to leave."

Jess, incandescent with silent anger as Colin went back to make a report to Logan, shook her head and went out. Once across the moat, her breathing steadied, but she allowed herself a moment to stomp her feet against the frozen ground as she let out a strangled growl of frustration.

"Um—" yet another voice behind her, "ma'am? Are—are you in distress?"

She spun around, slightly mortified someone had been witness to her mini breakdown.

"Oh!" Greg exclaimed as he recognized her, pointing to her with the cigarette between his fingers, "you're—um—Kendall's—are you OK?"

Jess gave him an imperceptible nod and turned back around. She took a yoga breath to get centered and collected herself enough to call…Stewy.

"Where's Kendall?" he blurted into the phone when he picked up, "he's not answering."

"I don't know—I was hoping you would," she fired back as she began marching down the long drive.

"Um—OK-," Stewy thought for a moment, "come meet me—I'm at the…Deer Cottage-whatever-the-fuck—"

"Colin just threw me out," Jess stomped through the iced snow, "reminded me that I didn't belong there. Wouldn't even let me into the room to get things."

"Oh," Stewy grew quiet as he took in the implication of her words, "fuck…"

She heard him take a breath at the other end of the line. "They're such assholes. OK, go to a café in town, text me the location, and we've got to figure this out."

Thirty minutes later, Jess had a cappuccino before her, but her heartrate was already so high that she couldn't bear to drink it.

"So what the fuck happened?" Stewy asked.

"They've got all of the computers," Jess said, "and they're probably going to hack them."

"Fucking Kendall," Stewy muttered as his sipped his coffee, "OK, well that's one fire I have to put out. So, where the fuck is he?"

"The only thing I got was that he went to rehab," Jess said as she stared at the foam art while it dissolved in the cup. "No idea where."

"What—rehab—now?" Stewy exhaled and sat back in his chair, "fuck this. Jesus. Fuck."

Jess was silent, unmoving.

"I mean, I knew he'd linked back up with Nick," he said, almost to himself.

"Nick…" Jess' head felt light.

"Yeah—Kendall's source."

Jess couldn't breathe for a moment. The revealed extent of Kendall's lies made her weak.

"Well, there goes my jaunt to Capri," Stewy said bitterly as he checked his phone and started texting madly, "I've got to get back to New York—proxy battle up next, I suppose. And look at you—"

"Me?"

"Yeah," Stewy said, "I mean, your name is not gonna be good when you go back to the city."

Jess looked at him in horror.

"Yeah, I'd say as an EA you're probably done," he knew he was right and so did she, "after your track record with Kendall—all of the dealings—I mean, you're so good, Jess, I'd hire you—"

Was this an offer?

"—but I think it's prudent to wait a while," he finished, "you know, until everything cools down…so you're no longer seen as such a –uh, 'do you hear the people sing' type of insurrectionist."

"…what?"

"A fucking—rebellious student that ends up dying on the barricade," Stewy's favorite musical was secretly Les Mis, "this is your barricade."

"Fuck," she whispered to herself; what had years of dedication gotten her? Fucking nothing.

"Or you could go back to Kendall whenever he reemerges," Stewy sat back in his chair and sighed, "and be his—I don't know—what are you, really? Virgil to his Dante in the Inferno?"

Jess looked at him, too proud to let him see her cry. She bit down on the inside of her lip.

"Or, no, that's not right," he assessed her with one arched brow, and his eyes narrowed a bit, "or—wait—are…are you Beatrice?"

Jess cocked her head at him, unamused, while being hit with a sensory memory from the night before-

"Or both?" he looked smug.

She said nothing.

"Oh well," Stewy stood up from the table and threw his coat on, "come to me in six months, and I'll give you a job. Until then, godspeed."

As Stewy left, Jess held her face in her hands as the cappuccino grew cold. She supposed she could take some solace in the fact that Kendall was getting help somewhere…? Jess took one breath, emitted a humorless chuckle, and decided on a hike for the day since it was quite possible that she no longer had a job. Again.

But not before scrolling her phone for hotels.

Because, goddamnit, she was headed to Paris.