Disclaimer: I own nothing, unless what was mine to begin with.

A/N: Guys! Answers!

Chapter 13: So, this is Jess?

It is nearly midnight and Jess Mariano is bargaining with Morpheus for some sleep.

Please.

Morpheus silently refuses his quasi desperate plea.

I'll give you my whole book collection.

Morpheus mockingly shakes his head.

My CD's.

Morpheus will not listen.

Luke's entire flannel wardrobe.

Morpheus slips a little further away.

My firstborn. Whatever you want, I'll give. But I need to sleep.

When Jess Mariano can't sleep, he becomes irrational. Last time he was caught trying to tie Morpheus down in order to take advantage of him, his brain was seriously considering exchanging his conscience for a few first editions, probably of some Hemingway classic or another. The age old practice of tossing and turning until exhaustion pilots your body towards slumber is not sorting results, and he knows why, though he isn't willing to admit it yet.

Jason.

Rhiannon.

Seeing them, day after day, for the past two weeks...

Those two names. The people associated with those names... The events associated with the people... Three years.

He feels he can no longer breathe. He is crushed between the bed and the air around him, thick with emotions and leaden with feelings. He struggles against it, each movement a titan fight, and finally manages to stumble through the door frame, down the stairs, out into the street. Little does he know that the inhabitants of yet another apartment are all too awake and aware of their surroundings. Two grey eyes follow his movements, accompanied by a little smile flitting across graceful lips.

"Anything interesting out there?" the voice is teasing. You and your insane fixation with windows.

"A Romeo is going to his Juliet." She motions towards the retreating figure.

"Good."

They stand next to the window, holding each other and glancing at the slumbering girl curled up in the bed they've been sharing for the past two weeks. Soon, demons will start invading her dreams, and it will be up to them to help her fight them, praying that they will leave her alone until morning.

Jess meanders and wanders through Stars Hollow in a daze. As his image reflects from Rory's window, he suddendly and unexpectedly comes back to reality

Huh... How did I get here?

He makes to turn around, but he finds himself rooted to the porch in front of her room, unable to move, to pace, to run. So he stays. And he waits. What for, he doesn't know. For how long, he cannot tell. But slowly he takes note of how her body arranges itself in sleep, how her hair spreads on the pillow, how breathing causes the picture depicted in front of him to change, delicately, with each passing second. Fascinated, his brain doesn't register that she has turned around, that her sapphire blue eyes are staring back at him through the window pane. His brain works by association, and he soon remembers watching someone else sleep, and that image morphes into yet another, something far less pleasant and incredibly more painful to be looking at. He is so engrossed in the movie-rama playing itself out in his head, he doesn't really see her until she opens her window.

"Dodger?" What are you doing standing here, like this, with that haunted look in your eyes?

Her voice unroots him, and he turns to leave, scared with himself, his memories, his feelings. It is again her voice who stops him.

"Within reaching distance..." Whatever it is, if you want to throw at me, I can carry it.

He climbs into the window, then, and stands awkardly next to it, waiting for her next move. She goes back to laying on the bed, on her side, facing him, with her arms held open. He kicks off his shoes, sheds the light jean jacket he tossed over his t-shirt, and follows it with his jeans and socks. He is now wearing the same amount of clothes Rory, who had been sleeping in a tank top and shorts, is, and he goes to her arms, shuddering helplessly, his back to her chest, legs tangled and her lips close to his ear.

"Good evening" she breathes.

"I'm so sorry, did I wake you? I shouldn't have been here, I know, it's creepy, hell, it's illegal, but I couldn't sleep, and I was watching you there, and..." He's rambling. Nervous, Mariano? What is wrong with you?

"Shhh..." she leans over a little to face him, her sapphire blue eyes meeting his chocolate brown, mingling glances and trading words unspoken. There is something guarded in his gaze, and untold tale that desperately needs counting, and fear.

"Who hurt you?" I want to know Jess. I'm here, right here. Talk to me.

Rory finally voices the question aloud, sensing that now she can.

He is taken aback by the sheer amount of force those three words carry. He disbelievingly stands aside as he witnesses slow motions, as if on the outside looking in, while the last of the barricades crumble, the last of his resistances flee and surrender, while prisoners are freed and loved ones rejoined. He is suddendly, unconceivably exposed to her, and, he realizes that he doesn't resent her, that he wants...

I want what?

Her.

You have her.

No. I want her to know.

You're damaged goods.

I don't fucking care.

And ignoring the need to pull back and retreat into his shell, he starts telling, and remembering, and unleashing his past upon her. He's scared of giving her too much to carry, but he now knows he can share it with her without either becoming crushed by its sheer weight. There is something inside that is begging him to surrender to this new need of needing her. He bares himself to her, while sinking into her embrace, seeking her warmth and her reassurance, hanging on to her as if she were the only safe haven during a hurricane.

She is.

Fashback

Jess is five, and his mother is taking him with her to work, because the baby sitter canceled on her and she can't find anyone else on such short notice. He settles for slouching in a chair next to her desk, with a book he found abandoned on the bus. His fingers trace letters forming words, a trick he learned letters can do. Two boys of about eight come inside, and noticing the kid let themselves close to him.

"Whatcha readin'?"Asks the one with the brown eyes and hair. Jess holds up his book, shy and a little afraid. These are big kids.

"Wow, you already reading that? I'm reading that for school" He remarks, a little impressed. He has only mastered reading last year.

"What's this word?" Jess points out a word whose letters don't make sense, becoming braver with the big kids' friendliness.

"Uh... damage" reads the other one, the one with the black curly hair."Wanna come with us? We were gonna annoy my dad."

"Why?" Is that allowed?

"'Cause if he gets annoied, he buys lunch" states the other boy, shaking his head as if it were obvious.

"'K". Jess hops off the chair and follows in their wake...

... Jess is six, first grade is just starting, and his mother comes home with a new boyfriend. He seems nice, and friendly, and he makes his mother happy. He buys him toys, takes him around town, to the park, to shops. For a while, life is fun and Jess can see his Mommy smile and he's smiling too, 'cause they're happy...

..."Hey Mark! Mommy! I got a gold star!" Ms. Hensen said I was the best in reading out loud today.

"Well, something like that sure deserves a prize, doesn't it, Liz?" Mark smiles at the kid's obvious excitement.

"Sure. It does. How about... we go to the bookshop and look at all the books?" Liz knows exactly what makes her son happy.

"Can we buy 'em?" Please, please, please. I want new books...

"Maybe one or two"

... Jess is seven, second grade halfway through, and his mother is acting weird. She comes home late at night, stumbling.

What's wrong with mom?

She forgets things, she doesn't buy food, her breath smells funny. She doesn't pick him up for school once, and when noone can find her anywhere, he says to call Jordan's mom. Jess can't sleep at night 'cause she keeps fighting with her boyfriend. When they say goodbye, Jess hugs Mark and tells him he loves him. He gets a sad smile, and a "I know kid, me too" spoken in tones of regret and remorse...

... Jess is eight and his mom has yet another man. This guy is... scary. He looks at him funny, and has his hands all over his mother. Ew. Once, Jess eats the last two cookies for his four PM snack.

That's when it begins.

"There were cookies in here." he walks closer.

"I ate 'em."

"Why?" he steps even closer.

"I was hungry." Jess begins squirming.

"Who told you you could?" he leans in, his face is just inches from Jess'.

Jess shrugs. I never ask for food.

He gets hit so hard across the face he stumbles backwards. His eye becomes swollen, and the next morning, when Jason meets him in front of the school, he fibs and tells him he banged against a bed post. Stupid, really...

... Time goes by and his bruises increase, in number and viciousness. It is Jordan's twenty-one year old brother, Axel Vianti, who points out to his parents that there is something wrong with this picture. Ceridwen McAdams, who, in addition to being his long-time girlfriend, works at the battered youth shelter Axel volunteers at, confirms his hypothesis...

... He spends more and more time at Jordan's and Jason's as time passes through. He's been friends with them ever since he met them that day, when he was reading the lost book. He will learn much, much later that his mother has a deal with her employers: either she takes better care of Jess, or she loses her job. She refuses to give up the relationship she's trapped in, as disfunctional and abusive though it is, and begins losing her son instead, justifying her actions by means of "I'm protecting him. And Zack will shape up, and everything will be ok". He' too young to understand what is going on, and he's happy like that. He practically lives with his two best friends, who don't pick on him too much even if they're three years older. He has someone he considers a big brother too. And he has his friends' parents, people who come home every night and don't yell without a reason, who certainly don't use their kids as punching balls...

... He's going to be nine soon, and third grade is a couple of weeks away from letting out for the summer. Jordan and Jason, who are now twelve and in sixth grade, at the middle school right across the street, wait with him for Axel to pick them up. The twenty-two year old policeman looks harried and disheveled as he screeches to a halt in front of them and rolls down his window.

"Get in! Come on!" They scramble to the backseat, and when Axel screeches to yet another stop at the hospital parking lot, they look confusedly at each other.

"Are you sick?" Jason asks Jess, who shakes his head.

"I had my last shot last month" he says.

Jordan looks from the hospital to his brother who is practically making a dash for the door and understanding dawns on his face.

"Oh... I know what's going on!"

"What?"

"It's Ceri." he pauses dramatically "She's having the baby!"

The other two boys widen their eyes, and the three of them follow Axel's running form.

It's hours later, with the three boys asleep on the hospital chairs, homework done and cafeteria food picked at, that Jordan's father shakes them gently.

"You guys... come on, wake up..."

"Wha... Dad? What's..."

The foursome trudges to the nursery, where the adult points to a baby swathed in a pink blanket.

"That's Rhiannon Amelia Vianti" he turns to the three boys, who stand there "Say hi"

They wave. He grins, and is joined by Axel, who is also grinning like a madman.

"So, how's the dad?"

"Scared out of his freaking mind" His father shoves him. "Sorry guys."

They trio ignores him, and keeps looking at the baby.

"It's... tiny..." Jess says.

"It's a she. And she's supposed to be. She was just born..."

"And she was in Ceri's belly? And how did she get there?" Jess is befuddled. Axel's eyes widen and puts two hands to Jason's and Jordan's mouths, effectively preventing them from answering him. He shakes his head and plays older brother.

"Hey, Dad, take those two to see Ceri. Jess and I will get sodas and meet you there.OK?"

"Fine. You go and... practice." Mr. Vianti smiles wickedly at Axel, then sighs thinking that at least that kid has them to fall back on. It doesn't matter if he doesn't have the right family connections, or belongs to the wrong side of the tracks. They took Jess Mariano on long ago, the Viantis and the D'Antonas, because they couldn't stand by and watch his mother ruin his life, when they so obviously could do something about it. So far, it seems to be working.

"So, Jess, do you want to know how babies make it into their mother's bellies?" Axel shakes his head. He hadn't envisioned giving the talk until much, much later, to his daughter... I have a daughter...

... He's eleven and Rhiannon is two, and he's watching her sleep on the couch at Axel's house while Jordan and Jason throw punches at each other on the carpet. As Jordan tackles Jason, the little girl stirs and whimpers in her sleep. No. Don't. You look so cute when you sleep. I don't know what to do when you wake up. Jess whispers something he remembers reading from a book earlier during the day.

"Can't you see that I don't want any favours from you? And I can't understand why you should want to confer favours on people who - who don't care a damn about them. I mean, people who find it very difficult to accept favors..." He keeps quoting Dostoyevsky, along with random passages from the books he's been reading, until his whispering lulls the kid back to sleep...

... He's twelve, and he hasn't been able to escape his mother's latest boyfriend. He shows up at Jordan's with bruises and cuts all over his body, his lip swollen, and crumbles to a heap on the doorstep before a horrified Axel can catch him. He wakes up in the hospital, concerned faces all around him. The only person who isn't there is his mother, and this, this makes him break the code of silence he has lived by for so long. He tells Ceri, whose social worker abilities lay in not asking a single question while getting the abused kids to spill their guts, what happened with his mother's later catch: he beats her, then proceeds to vent his anger on Jess if he so happens to breathe. This has been going on for months, now, but since he practically lives at Jason's, he hasn't had many run ins with unfriendly doors or uneven steps. The family tam-tam follows standard proceedings. Ceridwen tells Axel, who in turns discusses this with both the D'Antonas and the Viantis, not noticing that fifteen year old Jordan and Jason are hiding at the top of the staircase, listening to every word. They corner him later, and he tells them everything Jess told Ceri. He tells them he can't let this go on much longer, and they nod.

Then Jason gets an idea.

"Ax... you could show him..."

Axel nods.

"I mean, we started two years ago... but he could use it now" Jordan latches on to his best friend's train of thought.

"Yes." The twenty five year old agrees. He can't stand there and do nothing for Jess, who in turn refuses any and all proposals of tearing his mother's life further to shreds by involving the police...

... And so they teach him how to fight back. How to watch for the telltale signs giving away the other guys' direction and aim. How to duck. How to protect his vulnerabilities. How to strike, how to blind, how to block. How to quell your fears by becoming stronger...

"If they mess with one of us, they mess with all of us."

"And if they strike, we strike right back at them."

Their friendship acquires two more rules. And they quietly promise themselves to abide them.

... He's thirteen, and at the eight grade dance, a girl asks him to the dance floor. She has a long red braid, her eyes sparkle with the lights. He slow dances with her to Always, by Bon Jovi, and he finds her so close he can't help himself. He gets his first kiss that night, and many kisses like that over the next few months. Innocent and slow. They keep "dating" until the end of the school year...

... He is a few weeks short of fourteen and is graduating middle school. Rhiannon, who is now five, jumps in his arms and yells "Congratulations!" Jordan, Jason, Axel and the rest of the two families smile at him as they each hold a camera to take a picture of this. He rolls his eyes and groans, but his hold on the Half Pint doesn't unclench. His eyes stray to the sad looking woman at the back of the room, and their gazes meet for a second. He sets Rhiannon down and goes to meet her, shocked to see the person standing next to her.

"Lizzie." Mom.

"Jess..." she sighs. She hates it when he calls her that, but she knows she deserves it. "Remember your uncle?"

"Uncle Luke." I remember him. He sends cards and stuff... and I saw him a couple of times...

"Jess." Luke looks around "Congratulations, kid. Next stop, high school. Knock 'em dead."

Jess shakes his head and grins, then turns to go back to his friends...

... He's fourteen, school is out for Thanksgiving, and Jason is going over the last rules.

"You don't drink anything unless I tell you you can, don't do anything stupid, don't smoke anything that doesn't look, feel, or smell like your regular cigarette, don't take pills in any shape, form or color unless your period is giving you cramps and you need..."

"I get it, I get it, I'm not an idiot!" He looks in the bathroom dorway "And stop doing your fucking hair. You take more time than me! Hell, you take more time than a woman!"

"You don't know women, Jess." Jordan walks in on their discussion. His eyes wander to Jess, dressed for the party, a paperback in his hands which will very likely be stuck in his backpocket for the rest of the evening.

"Hey, did Jason tell you about not..."

"...Drinking, taking any pill stronger than a cough drop, and smoking tampered cigarettes? About fifty times." Jess rolls his eyes. He can't stand them when they go concerned older brother on him.

"Trust me, you don't want your first high school party to end up with you throwing up all over a girl, whose name you can't remember, and whose number you'll never get." Jason scowls. That is not a memory he likes to treasure.

"Huh." Jess raises an eyebrow. "Ouch."

"Exactly. Speaking of girls." Jordan hands Jess two square packages.

"What is..." he looks at them closely. "Oh." He looks towards Jordan, who is trying his best not to laugh at his expression.

Huh.

"Oh. Right. Unless you want your very own Rhiannon to take care of and trust me, as much as I love the brat, she really is a... brat." Jordan smiles as he thinks of his niece.

"One Pure Maiden is enough, thank you very much." Jess has been calling her that since Ceridwen has told him what her daughter's name means.

"Good." Say both seniors, smirking and nodding at him. He fleetingly thinks of the girl that stole his first kisses. They lost touch, she had gone to a different high schools. He has been to a couple of high school dances since then, has gotten his share of kisses and something more, but not much. He doesn't even know if he wants more...

... Jason is examining his cut lip in the bathroom mirror, while Jordan is pacing and screaming bloody murder.

"You didn't have to do that!"

Jason shakes his head at Jess, who sits there watching them.

"You were in bed until yesterday morning. Brian Coles wanted to have it out, and trust me, he wasn't gonna wait until you got better. And yes, I know you can take him when you're up to par. Thing is, you aren't! Enter me. The guy that saved your ass!" Jordan sulks.

"Aw, poor baby. We're going to set you up for a round of fisticuff first thing on monday morning." Jess states dryly, returning his gaze to his everpresent book, only to raise his head again as they share a silent moment.

He knows they are thinking one thing.

If they strike, we strike them right back.

If they mess with one of us, they mess with all of us.

... He's still in ninth grade, and is baby-sitting Rhiannon at Jordan's. Jason and Jordan come to kidnap them, and overrule his objections with a "they'll never know." He surrenders to them. It's their senior year and they need to release the tension from applications, SAT's and all that jazz. They reach the house the party is being held at, and the sleeping five year old is left to sleep in one of the rooms upstairs. They take turns in checking up on her every half hour, while Jordan stays sober so he can drive all of them home safely...

... This becomes regular occurrence during his freshman year, along with him curling up in the library every chance he gets, with a book for company. Free periods, lunches, afternoons when he doesn't want to go home and the seniors don't need a freshman to hang around them. They juggle baby sitting, partying, school and training for whatever it is they join. Jason's decision to give dancing a try during middle school, unheeding of their merciless mocking, is paying off. Jordan joins the swimming team, being water sports of all kind great loves of his. Jess goes for basketball. He lacks in height but makes up for it in agility and natural talent. He's good at it. They make it a point to go to each other's performances and games, and they keep the street fighting/self defence with Axel. It comes in helpful during a large number of occasions...

... He's turning fifteen tomorrow, and his world is about to be torn asunder.

End of Flashback

He stops unleashing his past on Rory. He doesn't realize he is shaking, held tight in her embrace. He feels cold, even though it's very hot outside and she is wrapped around him like a blanket. He slowly becomes aware of her hands caressing him, her lips to his ear, her soothing voice as much a part of him as the hearbeat in his chest, the blood in his veins, the air in his lungs.

"I love you, I'm within reaching distance. I'm here, Jess, see me?" she repeats gently, 'cause there is nothing else she can say to him. He wants her eyes, now, and turns to look at them. She shows no signs of fleeing.

She plunges her gaze deep into his. He looses his breath.

Flashback

... He's turning fifteen tomorrow, Jason and Jordan just graduated. They are both going to go to college, Jordan to NYU and Jason to Columbia, and Rhiannon is now six, but she started school a year early. NYC is hot and sticky, and they are all out celebrating the summer, the graduation, the end of the academic year, the honor roll. Axel and Ceridwen are waiting for them a few blocks ahead, but Jess is holding Rhiannon's hand and she is pulling him into a candy store. Jason and Jordan follow them.

"No. No candy for you, Half Pint. We'll be eating dinner in, like, five minutes" Jordan is pleading with his very stubborn niece.

"Geez, may Axel and his reproductory apparatus be damned" Jason swears, and Jess rolls his eyes.

"Ok, Pure Maiden, here is what we do" he states to her, knowing that just saying no doesn't obtain results."You pick a candy bar, and if you're still hungry after dinner, we'll come back and get it." Please take me up on my offer, or your mother will kill me for buying you candy before dinner, and your father will kill me for not letting him eat dinner.

She considers, and is about to give her answer, when something outside catches their attention. Screaming.

Commotion.

Repeated gunshots.

More screaming.

The people in the store panick, hide, then run to the door. The four of them rush outside. Jess freezes right outside the entrance; he knows what he's seeing but does not, can not make it real, nor approach it. He drops to his knees and holds Rhiannon to him, her face to his chest so the sight won't make it to her head, but it's too late and she screams in his shirt, something high pitched and wordless and mind numbing. Jason and Jordan run over to the scene, only to stand helplessly over two lifeless bodies...

... He's fifteen, and is standing in front a church, completely dressed in black. He stands by Jordan's left, as Jason stands on his right, both close enough to touch him if he as much as shows signs of collapsing. Rhiannon stands in front of her uncle, and they look on as the long line of people offering to share pain makes its way to the D'Antonas and the McAdams.

Axel and Ceridwen are dead.

Shot.

Payback.

Retaliation.

Revenge.

Shot.

Death.

They are dead! He wants to scream, cry, throw a raging fit, a furious unleashing of the raw pain that eats so excruciatingly slowly at his insides. But he can only stand there, a hand on his friend's upper arm, the other on Rhiannon's shoulder.

... Jess will learn later that Axel has been working undercover. Ceridwen's shelter takes in five kids who have been sexually abused, and the McAdams-D'Antona team gets roped in the federal investigation, becoming more and more involved as months go by, what with both having an extensive amount of knowledge on shattered children. What Axel uncovers ain't pretty: stealing, trading, selling, buying, using, abusing of children. Ages two to fourteen. It doesn't even feel real when someone says it out loud. Living, breathing, young human beings treated as mere objects. Underage sexual playmates... A net of pedophiliac activity ranging almost world wide...

... He remembers throwing up in the bathroom at Jason's house, where Jordan has been telling the two of them what he has been told in the debriefing his family has been given...

... He's fifteen, and holds Rhiannon one last time, proceeding to shake hands and share pats on the back with Jordan and Jason, who are moving to Italy with their families. Neither can stay in New York, neither can bear to live in it without Ax and Ceri, the older brother and sister who had looked out for them for as long as they could remember. Jordan will wait, and work, for a year before enrolling to university there, while Jason will probably do the same thing. In the meantime, Jess knows they'll be trying to forget what happened, try dealing with this huge loss noone can understand. He hates them, right then. For a moment he resents their money, their social status, their opportunities, things that none of them had deemed important in the last ten years. He wants to break them, then, for the new life they'll be able to lead. For their fathers, whose business is thriving enough to expand, hence the move to Italy... Because they'll be able to leave some part of this behind... His resentment is short lived. Their lives have been snapped in two. The wound that festers inside of them will never completely heal, or stop bleeding altogether.

So they say goodbye.

And it sounds final.

... He's sixteen and his life has been spinning out of control during the past year. He is slowly going down a landslide, no braking devices and nothing to hang on to to slow, or arrest the descent. Not that he'd use them, should he see them, but their mere absence makes the entire panorama even more daunting. His grades have been steadily slipping, from A's and B's to C's, to D's by the end of May. He escapes in his world of angry music and obscure books. He quits basketball. He parties. Hard. Too hard. He's out every night, coming home at all hours, ignoring Lizzie's threats, lectures, yells. He takes up smoking. When that doesn't provide a thrill anymore, he moves to drinking, getting plastered trying different combinations each time. It helps not to think, not to feel, not to ache.

... He slides down even further when he starts getting smashed with something more than alcohol, using drugs instead.

... He reaches the bottom of the landslide when he loses his virginity to a girl whose face, let alone name, he will not remember come morning. But he likes the feeling of having sex, it manages to fill, for a little while, the gaping hole that is constantly enlarging, deep inside of him, eroding at his soul. So he indulges in it. He has no trouble finding girls who'll ask no questions while he picks up his clothes and dresses in the half shadow of their rooms, content with having him for the night and nothing more, nothing less. It is after one of these nights that he gets sent to Star's Hollow, the redhead he had aptly steered into his bed having had a run-in with his mother who is, ironically, feeling motherly.

End of Flashback

He doesn't realize he has been crying, wetting her shirt, crushing and bruising her with his arms. Words and tears, once they find a way out, tumble from hiding places in long, painfully drawn cascades, asking for attention and blood.

He wants to die. At least that will stop the pain stemming from all this rehashing.

"I don't want to feel all this! I vowed I wouldn't feel anything anymore three years ago."

He gradually becomes aware, once again, of her presence; he hates her now, but it's not strong and not convincing, and he doesn't put up a fight when the whole idea of hating her for making him feel again reveals its complete ridiculousness.

Rory sits there and absorbs his desperation, his losses. Now she knows where he comes from, and she will not let it scare her away, or relinquish her hold on him; she won't let him pull away on its account, either. So she waits for him to come back to her, for the emotional overload to subside and for him to calm down; listening to the instincts whispering to her that, now, he needs her silence. So she holds onto her unobtrusiveness, until his breathing becomes regular, his heartbeat slows, his tremors still.

"So this is Jess?" she asks of him, his body harnessed with hers.

"This is Jess. And I can understand if you never want..." To have anything to do with him ever again.

She shakes her head and stills his lips with her own, before plunging her gaze into his.

"I want." She places another kiss on his mouth, her hands on each side of his face in a reassuring caress.

"You sure? Damaged goods are high maintainance." His tone of voice underlines his fear by being devoided of all emotions. He disentangles from her, wanting to get up, panicking at the mere thought of her rejecting him, of showing her that he is, in fact, panicking, of her knowing she is, nonetheless, the source of it. He turns to lie on his stomach, ready to roll off her bed the second she realizes that...

I'm too fucking messed up. She's gonna come up with some excuse, probably 'Next year I'm going to college and we'll be far away. Sorry Jess, nice dating you. See you around. Oh, and, by the way, sleeping with you? Worst mistake of my life'...

"I happen to like high mantainance, and all things damaged. Pefection tends to be too highly thought of." Her voice stops him in midaction and in mid internal rant. He relaxes a little. Her body is gentle as she climbs on him, resting half of her body on top of his back, her leg thrown across both of his, one hand buried in his hair, lips and nose and breath to his neck.

Was not expecting that, blue eyed beauty. Was not expecting that at all.

He feels weak from the emotional rush and the adrenaline high, the warmth of her body makes him surrender the least of his strenght. He can only breathe his last, final fear to her.

"Everyone... they just leave." He whispers to her. "Don't go anywhere".

He resists long enough to hear her repeating the promise that now belongs to them and them only.

"I'll be within reaching distance"

before he finally sinks into darkness, leaving Rory to fend for both of them against the demons who now roam freely in her room. He feels her battling them for him and chasing them away one by one.

He knows they will be back, but, right now, they are not there. Thanks to her.

And he lets Morpheus sweep him away, finally compliant and no longer teasing.