Tuesday was the first day that Jess couldn't get out of bed.

Luke had attempted to get the boy to move when he failed to go to the diner for his shift. He stomped up the stairs ready to shake him awake like he had to do many times during his first stretch living there. Yet, when he burst into the room he saw Jess lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling. The boy was awake, but he seemed so far away.

Luke was cautious, calling the boy's name and getting no reaction. When he approached the bed, Jess' eye's met his for the briefest of moments before returning to the ceiling.

"Leave me alone, Luke." Jess croaked out. His voice sounded hoarse and overworked. If Luke hadn't of known any better, he would have thought that the boy had been screaming for hours before he attempted speaking that morning.

"Jess, just get out of bed, you'll feel better –"

"No." Jess interrupted, "No, I won't. Please Luke, just leave me alone. Please."

"I don't want to leave you alone like this –"

"I'm not going to try and off myself." Jess practically growled, he turned his back on the man, pulling the flimsy covers over his shoulders and lifting his legs so they met his chest in a fetal position. "I just- Leave me alone. Please."

Luke nodded, and made his way back down the stairs in a lot less of a sociable mood then he was when he went up. He called Lane for extra help and no one uttered a word about Jess' absence.

Jess went in and out of sleeping that day. He'd wake up to see a smoothie next to him with what he assumed was protein powder mixed in after Luke had the thrilling idea to start beefing him up. He'd drink some of it, aware that he should be thankful that he was being looked after when all he felt like doing was curling up in the dark and being forgotten.

No matter how long he slept though, he still felt this overwhelming exhaustion that lasted him through the day and far into the night. He took note of Luke returning upstairs at one point, his movements quiet and slow – cautious of disturbing the boy. He didn't ask how Jess was again, for which he was thankful, he instead attempted to work around the boy.

Luke fell asleep on the sofa that night, his body facing Jess as he attempted to keep a watchful eye.

The next morning Jess still didn't want to face the world. His uncle had already gone down stairs to open up the diner, and judging by the clock on the wall had let Jess sleep until past the morning rush. He turned his body around and resigned himself to moving.

He had a sluggish and slow shower, probably using up most of the hot water, and proceeded to dress in just as much enthusiasm. His movements felt weighted down and every lift of an arm proved his weakness and worthlessness to the boy. He wore sweatpants and an extra-large top, past the point of caring about his appearance. The natural curls on his head settled in their own disarray and Jess slowly made his way down into the diner.

His uncle actually stopped mid-step when he saw his nephew, and Jess would have laughed if he had the capacity.

"I'm not working today," Jess said simply as he approached the man, taking the shaking plates from Luke's hands and placing them on the correct table with a curt smile at the strangers.

"That- That's fine."

"I'm going to go to Andrews – browse some books."

Luke repeated himself.

Jess nodded and turned to walk out the door. He was stopped suddenly by Luke calling his name and shoving a bottle in his hand before ushering him out.

Jess looked down at the bottle and saw a different variation of the smoothie his Uncle had made him the day previously – he smiled and began drinking it as he made his way to the only place he actually enjoyed in the tiny town.

He slipped into the store and instantly that feeling that he could breathe again flowed through him like a drug. It was a unique smell – the smell of books. Especially the second-hand ones that seemed to merge with the new. A new book smelt like plastic, and old one smelt like nature, like wind, like travel, like freedom.

Andrew wasn't behind the counter when he entered, so Jess simply made his way to the back of the store where all the particularly old books were kept – the ones that were less attractive and falling away at the seams. He used to find himself in this store quite a lot when he was in the town the first time. It had a comfortable quiet to it that was difficult to find elsewhere.

Jess let a smile grace his face as he took in the shelves at the back, letting his fingers hover over some of the authors, he knew his afternoon would be lost collecting more items for his mind to drown in.

It was only when he felt a tap on the shoulder, and he jumped, spinning around to the friendly face of the owner that Jess realised how long he must've been looking. A pile at his feet of books he felt he needed to buy, and the sky outside a deep purple that could only suggest a late hour.

"I've got to close soon, Jess, sorry to disturb."

Jess shook his head, smiling at the man and lifted his stack. He balanced them precariously against his chest, able to settle his chin on the top of his pile, and he carried them to the till. "I didn't realise how long I was here for, sorry Andrew."

"Don't be silly. When you left I lost one of my best customers." His smile was huge, wrinkling his cheeks as he let out a breathy chuckle, "I'm happy you're back to keep me in business."

"That makes one person then," Jess muttered under his breath.

Andrew continued to ring up Jess' pile, counting the prices with a calculator and writing up a manual receipt.

"Till broken?"

"It's not adding the values correctly." Andrew complained, continuing to type in the calculator, "It's been messing up my books – it's safer doing it the old-fashioned way."

"I could take a look if you like?"

Jess only noticed Andrew's started reaction to his offer when the man's hands stopped writing on his personal receipt. His eyebrows were comically to his hair line and it was evident that he wasn't sure he could take him seriously.

"Honestly," Jess said, trying to trigger a reaction from the man, "I'm quite handy with all of that stuff," he waved his hand over the technology, "ask Luke. I've probably rebuilt his entire diner bit by bit."

"Are you sure Jess?"

The boy nodded. "I'd have to borrow Luke's tools but I don't mind. You've given me a little haven here enough times for me to owe you a favour at this point."

"Well, if you think you can do it." Andrew said eventually, writing the final purchase on Jess' receipt and asking for the payment. Jess handed over the money and dragged the books over to him, balancing them against his chest, his chin resting on the top.

"I can go and get the tools now if you like?" He said, grunting slightly as he lifted the unexpected weight.

"Actually – I need to –" Andrew cut himself awkwardly, and Jess realised that the man didn't entirely trust him alone in his store. He couldn't blame the man he supposed.

Jess shut his eyes, nodding and made to step out the store, letting Andrew open the door for him to make it easier. "Well," he commented, "Whenever – you know where to find me."

Andrew nodded back at him, attempting a smile as just struggled back towards the diner. There were a few people outside at the late hour, enjoying the lights that Taylor had ordered to be put up around the time for more of a 'winter fairy-tale'-esque town. Jess meandered past without much hassle. He was balancing the books the best he could but often found himself having to stop and rest on his way back – he just didn't have the energy he used to have.

He managed to push open the door of the diner with some rearranging and placed the pile he had accumulated onto one of the empty dining tables. The pile was significant and Jess felt a ghost of a smile appear on his face as he skimmed over the titles, the worn covers, and the embossed wording. For the first time in what was realistically weeks, but felt like a lifetime, he was excited about reading. He was excited about doing something, and he clutched onto that feeling – the only thing grounding him to this glimpse at the vibrancy he'd lost.

The pile of books would have themselves been a clear cry for help;

Mrs. Dalloway; Tender is the Night; Catcher in the Rye; The Bell Jar; Disturbing the Peace; Ordinary People; She's Come Undone; The Passion of Alice; The Marriage Plot.

Well, Jess decided, he's going to do what he does best to get through this – read.

Looking at Luke made him feel guilty. He knew he should be sleeping but each day flickered through whatever he would be feeling. That weekend he was feeling normal. After another bad day on the Friday – where he had struggled to find the energy to open his eyes, let alone get out of bed, he was thankful for some normalcy back.

He had helped Luke at the diner, he slipped back into his aloof confidence. He caught himself nibbling on snacks throughout the day without even thinking about the significance of his appetite. Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket, words and phrases circled that related to Holden Caulfield and often found himself snickering at the irony of his once fabled nickname in Stars Hollow becoming his reality.

He focuses on the characters' myriad acts of kindness, rather than his 'rebel-without-a-cause' image and finds himself witfully wishing he had the same opportunities to help others selflessly as the depressed character does – perhaps then he would get a sense of belonging.

As Sunday evening drew to a close, Luke forced Jess to sit down with him on the sofa and watch a 'spontaneous' film with him. He put on It's a Wonderful Life and kept giving Jess looks and humming in agreement with Clarence the angel every time he said something significant.

He neglected to remember that Jess knew Luke never actually watched films all the way through. Jess also knew that Luke was far from ever getting into the Christmas spirit early. So the coincidental significance was less 'empowering' and more 'embarrassing'.

"So we watched this simply because you want to 'get excited' for Christmas?"

"Uh, Yes?"

"Wow Uncle Luke. Lorelai is really rubbing off on you – I'm going to have to inform Taylor of this new discovery."

"Shut up Jess."

"Maybe he'll actually convince you to decorate the shop this year –"

"I swear to God if you don't stop talking –"

"I'll put in the order for tinsel and mistletoe, now shall I?"

He forced his uncle out of the chair and huffing out of the small apartment – Jess couldn't help the chuckle that seemed to explode out of him.

Yet, as he uncle slept near him, and Jess sat perched against the window overlooking the town he couldn't help but silently thank the man for doing his best.

He didn't want to sleep and forget feeling light. He wasn't sure what he'd be feeling the next day, but in that moment, he was hopeful that he'd get better somehow.

Lorelai knew something was wrong the moment she stepped into the diner. She was ready to swirl into her boyfriend's establishment with smiles and a kiss before she let herself become a recluse and work on the things she'd been putting off for far too long for the inn.

Yet, when she walked in, Luke was cleaning an already clean mug, glancing up at the apartment every few seconds and ignoring any call for his attention. Lane was running circles around him as she attempted to keep everyone happy.

"See if there's anything you can do," the small girl said to Lorelai as she passed, "He's been cleaning that mug for 30 minutes now."

Lorelai nodded, determined in her mission and grabbed the man from behind the counter, pulling him into the store room and shutting the door behind her.

"What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"With Jess? Something is up Luke – you're not with it. How is he doing?"

Luke shook his head, he turned his back to Lorelai and began resorting items that definitely didn't need handling. "It's another bad day."

"What does that even mean?"

"It's like he's fine, he goes through these stages of normalcy where you think that this whole thing is just some weird fever dream, but then –"

"Then?" Lorelai urged once Luke fell silent.

"Then he has these episodes."

"Is he crying? I know you can get nervous when people cry?"

"No, no." Luke urged, "It's not like he's a bawling mess or anything. I think I could handle that a bit better."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know, it's like he's vacant. He's not there. He gets so lost in his own mind that he just closes off – and not the usual Jess closing off – more like shutting down completely."

"What do you do?"

"Nothing I really can do," Luke shrugged, "I just let him sleep – it seems that's all he does when he's like that. I can't get through to him when he's like that – I just feel so helpless."

Lorelai nodded, readjusted the strap on her work bag and was very determined in her sudden plan. "I'll go up there."

"No."

"No? I'll just go up and do the work I need to do – I was going to find an empty room at the inn but I can do it anywhere."

"No Lorelai. Why would that work?"

"It'd help you focus on work for a bit – make sure he's not doing anything other than sleeping. Bring him water, food."

"Lorelai…" he was obviously unsure but she simply put her hands up and shook her head, telling him that he was fighting a losing battle.

When she first went up to the apartment she would have thought it was empty. His head was completely covered by the blanket and although he wasn't snoring, she could barely hear his stuttering and uneven breathes. She was suddenly very nervous that the boy was crying, and she wasn't entirely sure how she'd deal with that.

She put her work on the dining table, moving to the fridge and reading the list pinned to the front – a list in Jess' handwriting of different foods, some crossed off, some enthusiastically put down with exclamation marks and underlined.

- Romaine Salad not anchovies Luke. Never Anchovies.

- Pasta! I'm Italian.

- Hot Dog with everything. Onions. Flat Cheese. Every Sauce.

- Ice Cream in cones

- Any Soup. I mean anything. So long as I get bread

- Turkey Sub

She quickly realised this was a list of food that Jess wanted to eat – and she couldn't help but admire Luke for thinking of this weird menu, order scenario. Even she had noticed that the boy was struggling with his appetite – a concept foreign to Lorelai, or any Gilmore honestly.

She glanced back at the menu, saw that there was at least one thing she could make for him and set about putting together the sandwich before she lost herself in her work. She placed it next to the boy, along with a glass of water and avoided watching him as he moved under the blanket.

"I'm going to stay up here to work if that's alright Jess. I won't disturb you, but Luke said I could work on balancing the books up here with some quiet."

He grumbled, and that's all she got from him, so she set about looking through the numbers that were messily scattered over their ledger.

Sometime later Lorelai leant back on the chair, letting her arms stretch out above her head and letting out a tired groan. She'd managed to get a surprising amount of work done in that room. Being forced in one space, without temptation of the television being on, or furniture to move, or magazine to cut up, she could sit and sort out the work she'd been putting off for far too long.

She glanced at the bed that she had been periodically checking for the hours she'd been there, and rather than the mound under the covers, the boy was finally sitting up. Leaning against the headboard, his head back against the wall, his hair curled and falling into his face. His palms were clutched together in his lap and his eyes were closed. He seemed to be focused only on his breathing.

She noticed the glass of water she'd placed on his bedside table was drank, and there was a bite taken out of the sandwich.

His eyes opened slowly. Blinking away the darkness and slowly letting his eyes fall from the ceiling to the woman who was sitting at the table. He didn't react at first, just looked at her as she looked back at him – silent and waiting.

Eventually, he nodded. Turned his body out from under the covers, letting his feet fall onto the wood and glare down at his bare legs. Lorelai almost gasped at how little mass there actually was on the boy – evident without his baggy jeans or shirts that he seemed to be wearing more often than not nowadays – but she knew that would do little to help the boy.

He picked up some clothes on his way to the bathroom and didn't make any comment as he passed. Lorelai turned back to her work, making sure to save the most recent document she was working on and return to the messages that had been building up on her phone. He didn't say anything as he came back into the room, nor anything when he picked up a book, his notebook and a pencil, and he didn't say goodbye when he left the room. He did, however, shut the door quietly behind him.

Lorelai sighed loudly and took out her frustration on her laptop keys.

When Luke came up moments later she barely registered his entrance.

"How did you do that?"

He looked in awe. He was watching Lorelai like she was some kind of ethereal being, and she, for the first time in her life, was speechless.

"Uh… What?"

"He's out of bed, Lorelai. He just walked past me and has gone out to read. How did you do that?"

"I didn't do anything – I've just been sat here all day. He hasn't even spoken to me."

Luke paused, considering what she said before explaining his glee, "He's never recovered that quickly."

"What do you mean?"

"When he has a day like today – in bed, unable to get up. He has never recovered that quickly. That usually means he's out for at least 36 hours. You're being here managed to get him back on his feet in 10. That's incredible."

"I... Uh... Wow... Um –"

"You're speechless."

"Yeah I uh-"

She was interrupted by Luke pitching forward and pulling her into a kiss rivalling their first. As he pulled away he uttered a simple "Thank you," into her lips, the smile on his face huge and the hold on her tight.

She didn't think she had done anything special, but she wasn't about to reject his thanks – it'd just be rude.