He began to feel further and further away from himself, away from other people, as the days went on. He found himself forgetting things, the addresses he had just looked at, the faces of people he worked with, starring at the green light and not going anywhere. The more he retreated within himself, the better he felt, the longer he could go without talking to somebody, making eye contact made him feel relieved.

"Jess?" Jess jerked around, his eyes on the floor.

"You okay?" Joe asked.

"I'm fine." he muttered without making eye contact. "Those mine?" He pointed to a stack.

"Yeah, not too many today."

Jess nodded.

The phone rang five times before he picked it up, sitting up on his bed with his book, he starred at it.

"Hello?" He asked quietly.

"Jess?" It was a male voice, friendly, happy, familiar.

"Yeah?"

"It's Luke."

"Hi."

"I'm going to be in the city for a couple of days next week I thought I'd pop up and see you."

"Pop up." Jess repeated.

"Yeah, I haven't seen you since your Mom's wedding, thought I could see what you were up to."

Liz and TJ's wedding seemed like such a long time ago in a misty memory.

"Okay. I've moved."

"I know you told me three weeks ago."

"oh."

"I've got the address, so what days are you working next week?"

"Uh." His mind was blank, he struggled to remember, hitting his palm against his forehead. "Monday, Thursday, uh, Friday and Saturday."

"Well how about Tuesday then?"

"Yeah."

"Alright Jess I'll see you later."

He hung up. His mouth barely forming the word, bye. He ran his hands up his bare arms, rubbing the cuts he had made, yesterday, the day before that. He went back to his book, submersing himself into other people, into other lives where life was easier, where life was more predictable, a life without fierce sadness, without meaningless packages everyday, without fathers that abandon you and later tell you they aren't the fathering type, without girls who are perfect that you leave anyway, without a crazy drunk mother with muscled boyfriends than snuck into your room at night reeking of whiskey and pot. He didn't like real life anymore.

Luke hadn't given a time on Tuesday, he woke at six with a start, sweat running down his face suddenly paranoid looking around and seeing imperfections, Luke was the closest thing he ever had to real unconditional love family and in that small place in his brain that he tried to hide when around people, he wanted it to be nice for him. To impress him, to stop him from worrying, because he knew he did. He rushed around picking things up, folding and refolding, his music on, getting lost in the foggy abyss of his mind. He had finally given up at 11 and sat himself on his bed with a book trying not to notice the little things. The door knocked, and he stood up consciously to answer it, tugging at the long sleeves of his T-shirt, running his fingers through his hair.

Luke was standing there, the same person he had always been, albeit missing his flannel today, standing on his stoop casting suspicious looks around the unfriendly dark ally with a piece of paper in his hands.

"Hey." Jess said shifting his weight.

Luke muttered something under his breath that sounded like "whoah." and tried to recover.

"Hey Jess. Nice ally I like the steel door it's a nice touch." He tried not to be taken aback as he starred at his nephew at his long stringy hair, the rings under his eyes, but perhaps most noticeable the amount of weight he had lost, he seemed to be swimming in his own skin, his broad shoulders lost on his body.

"Yeah." Months ago he would have returned some friendly sarcastic banter, but today he couldn't think of the words in his head.

"Well its certainly nicer than your other place, you've actually got a bed, lack of espectice, is that a bathroom I see over there? Moving up in the world." Jess nodded absently, his eyes glossy.

"How are you Jess?" He was visibly concerned, the changes in him bothering him.

"I'm good, good." for a moment he looked up at Luke and conveyed in a moment that everything was not good.

"Well that's good, wow you even have invited living creatures."

"I got lonely." He replied back, stooping down to look at his swimming fish. Luke stooped with him, both starring down at the fish, their faces reflected by the tank light.

"You want to go out and get something to eat?" Luke asked, wishing to get out of Jess' dark apartment hoping all the changes in Jess would dissipate with a change of scenery.

"Yeah, you got your truck?" Jess asked, his eyes still on the fish.

"Yes I do."

"We'll take my car." He offered no explanation, a statement.

They walked around the building. Luke looking around suspiciously.

"how did you find this place anyway?"

Jess shrugged his shoulders. He motioned to the sign above the door. "This is where I work."

'Oh." Jess' heap of a car sat in its parking space that had become his in an unspoken way.

"You never changed the plates." Luke observed looking at the familiar heap that he had kept hostage in his garage for so long.

"You think I want to have New York insurance? Admit that my job requires me to drive 150 miles a day? They would hang me and my car out to dry. The state of Connecticut thinks I still live in the state of Connecticut and I like it that way." For a second he smiled, looking up at Luke.

Luke got wearily into the passenger seat noting the ashtray full of cigarette butts, the backseat covered in tiny white slips of paper, random books, and left over garbage from varying fast food restaurants.

"What do you want?" Jess asked entering into the busy street of his side road, without appearing to even check the oncoming traffic.

Luke balked. "What?"

"To eat." Jess said as he nervously drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, unconsciously pushing up his sleeves to relieve the eighty degree heat baking off the road.

Luke was halfway between the word hamburger when he glanced over at Jess and noticed small razor sharp cuts dotted over his arms, in varying stages of healing.

He grabbed the arm closest to him at the wrist and jerked it over to him. Jess caught by surprised jerked the wheel, veering into traffic.

"Fuck Luke! What?" Luke still holding his wrist like a bloody glove.

"You really need to ask, what is wrong with you?" Jess jerked his arm back and pulled down his sleeves, his eyes boring on the road.

"I think it's a little late for that now."

Jess just starred ahead.

"I decide." He replied quietly. "What do you want to eat?"

Luke starred at him. "I want to talk about this. Your sudden collection of self-mutilation, and don't lie to me, you certainly didn't get those delivering packages!"

"A little too deep for paper cuts?" Jess asked bitterly, still starring ahead at the road, but driving too fast.

"Jesus Christ, Jess. What has happened to you?"

"What's happened to me?" He echoed in an airy voice.

"I was born to two people who never wanted me." He gave no more explanation, he didn't say a word, until he squealed his tires stopping back in his parking spot. He turned off the car and got out, slamming the door. Luke tried to catch him, chasing after him around the building. The steel door slammed with a whap! Luke pulled it open.

Jess was sitting silently on his bed. Luke ran down the few stairs and stood there breathless, more at the turn of events, than the physical activity.

"Jess?" He didn't even raise his head.

"Fine, listen, don't listen. This is a one time offer, come back to Stars Hollow with me. There is something wrong with you Jess, and if you don't get it fixed, you are going to fall deeper and deeper away from everybody. I promised I wouldn't let you drift, let me help you." Jess' eyes continued to stare at his shoes.

"Jess?" He didn't move.

"Fine, goodbye Jess." Luke dug in his pocket and pulled out his pocket-knife and threw it at Jess' feet.

The door slammed behind him, Jess picked up the pocket-knife and turned it over in his hand, ran his fingers over the engraving: William. He put it down gently on his bedside table, between the watch and the tiger. He got up, his shoes hitting the floor with a thud, he walked silently around the room. Wishing he could feel anything, the slightest twinge of sadness, the prick of anger, he wished he could, there was only one way he could feel anything anymore.