Notes: Future. Literati. Well, kind of. Some passages are set during the summer of Season 3. Thanks to Ari, my beta who rocks and gives blush-worthy compliments; Elise who is awesome because ..... well, she's Elise. And lastly, to Lee ... just because. Feedback is welcomed, so if you could, take the time to write me something?
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this except (maybe) the plot. Gilmore Girls are a production of the WB, and was created by ASP & others. Lyrics featured are by Jack Johnson (who rocks) on his CD "On and On".
things can go bad
and make you want to run away
but as we grow older
the horizon begins to fade away
fade, fade, fade
- jack johnson
It's when she does her cleaning that she finds them; they're all the way down at the bottom of a forgotten box. They're a faded kind of blue, and they are adorned with rips near the bottom of the pant leg. She holds them in her hands, smiling slightly at the memories that they send back to her.
It was in the summer, a few weeks before she left for Europe.
Now as she thinks back on it, she wonders how she even came to the conclusion to run away with him. It seemed very spur-of-the-moment, and very Un-Rory like.
She doesn't remember getting into the car.
She doesn't remember if she told Lorelai beforehand.
She doesn't even know what prompted her to do so.
She just knows that she did, and that she had these jeans on when she did.
She remembers him sending her a strange look before starting the engine, and then they were off. Off into the sunset, off to race the waves, and off trying to catch the horizon.
- - - - - - - - -
In that short week, she remembers seeing the cornfields of the Midwest, the fried chicken of Kentucky, and the Floridian sunrise. She remembers sitting on the roof of his car, and watching the sun rise up from beneath the ocean on the last morning before heading back.
The sun is halfway up when he takes her hands in his.
"Rory," he says
"Hmm?"
"I'm leaving."
"What?" She says, turning her head to face his. She doesn't think that she heard him right. It's ridiculous, preposterous, and goodness—it's true.
"I'm leaving," he repeats again before looking down at their hands; hers had gone limp in his clutch.
"Why?" she asks, struggling to comprehend all of the emotions that were rushing through her body. Anger, frustration, anxiety, hurt, love; it's all there.
"I can't stay," He says, turning away from her and dropping their hands.
"Why?"
"There's nothing left for me here."
"I'm not enough?" she chokes out, it's a sad and desperate cry, but she doesn't care.
He sighs then, dropping his gaze to the ground. "Rory, come on … "
"What Jess? Honestly, what?"
"… you're going to be gone! Let's not pretend this is going to last forever when it's not," he pleads, trying to believe it himself. He had to believe it, it was the only way.
"Jess … "
"Rory, you're going to college in a couple of months. It's just...not going to work." He says it soft and low like a tragic love song; it is beautiful, bittersweet and true.
"Jess, "she begins to say, but her words begin to lose their meaning.
It was true, and it hurt.
"Rory, come on … we both knew that this would be temporary," he says, trying to make himself accept it to. He has to believe his own words; otherwise he might end up accepting the 'always and forever' prophecy that so many people unwisely choose to believe.
She is silent for a while before she gains the voice to speak, "Yeah, I guess."
The sun has risen up from beneath the surface, blinding them with its glaring stare.
"Ready to go?" He asks.
"Yeah, " she replies before taking one last look at the horizon, "let's go."
- - - - - - - - -
It was a silent drive back, she remembers, and a silent good bye on his part.
He was gone when she came back from Europe.
She thinks that maybe it was for the best anyway. He was never good at saying good-bye, so maybe his leaving without a trace was fitting.
She touches the worn material, and brushes the dust away from it.
The initial pain is old and was already fading away.
It doesn't hurt anymore.
It is a faded blue that screams a thousand unsaid memories.
Fade, fade, fade away.
Sighing, she puts the jeans back at the bottom and shuts the box.