Disclaimers: Don't own nothin. Wish I owned Jess though. Yummy!
This is my first fanfic. More chapters to come. Will definitely be Literati, and probably a bit fluffy.
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One foot in front of the other…over and over again. He'd been at it for hours, days, he'd forgotten how long, really. Highway stretched out in both directions, but he didn't have a home at either end. The bus had gotten him about three fourths of the way, but then his cash ran out, so he was walking, hitching rides, whatever he could do. He coughed hard down the sleeve of his leather jacket. It wasn't that hot, but he could feel himself burning on the inside, fever licking at the back of his eye sockets. The scenery was starting to look like New England, so maybe he didn't have so much further to go…maybe just a few more days.
He stopped. The rumble of an engine could be heard in the distance. He faced the road and stuck out his thumb. He could just make out a minivan, far to the west. Another cough wracked his thin body, almost doubling him over. He straightened up and wiped his mouth on his dirty distiller's t-shirt. The van was closer now. Not much chance anyone in a minivan would stop for dirty leather clad teenager, but it was worth a shot.
The van passed him. His shoulders slumped in disappointment, and he picked up his duffel and started walking again. Suddenly, he noticed that the van had stopped and was backing up towards him. He couldn't believe his good luck. He'd been walking since Buffalo and he couldn't even remember how long that had been.
A middle aged man rolled down the window.
"Where ya headed, kid?"
"New Haven, but I'll be happy with however far you can take me."
"It's cool, I'm headed that way myself. Hop in."
Jess picked up his filthy army duffel and put it in the back seat before climbing into the front with the driver.
"Thanks man, I really appreciate it. Playing Jack Kerouac lost its charm about two weeks ago."
The middle aged man laughed as he pulled back onto the highway.
"My name's David. I'm from Hartford. What about you?"
"Jess. I'm from New York, but I lived in Stars Hollow for a couple of years, and then Venice beach."
"You comin' all the way from California?" David let out a low whistle. "That's a long way to be hoofin it."
"I took a greyhound most of the way, and when I couldn't afford it anymore— " Jess broke off suddenly as a fit of coughing overtook him.
"Whoa, you ok there kid? You're not going to die or anything are you?"
Jess cleared his throat. "I'll be ok…just, been on the road too long, I guess." He was lying, he'd felt like shit ever since he got off the bus, but he wasn't about to let it stop him from getting to Rory. He settled back in the seat and closed his eyes. Fortunately, David took the cue and didn't press the issue.
* * * * *
"Hey kid, wake up. This is New Haven."
Jess nearly jumped out of his skin when David reached over to wake him up.
"Oh, uh, thanks man. I really appreciate the ride."
"No problem."
Jess grabbed his duffel and got out of the minivan. As though he'd read his mind, David had dropped him off right in front of Yale's main entrance. Jess hefted his bag and looked around. Now that he was here, he realized he had no idea how to find Rory. Might as well start walking, he thought, it's gotten me this far. Fortunately, there was a big party in front of the dorms, so it didn't take him too long to find them. He got some weird looks though. Guess I'm not really Yale material, he thought, as he wandered through the crowd.
Finally, he spotted Paris, holding a beer can and yelling at a meek looking girl with curly hair.
"Hey, Paris." His voice sounded strangled—he couldn't believe how close he was to finding Rory.
"Who said that?" Paris turned sharply. "Jess! What are you doing here? You left."
"Well, I came back. Where's Rory?"
"She went home, to Star's Hollow."
Jess's heart sank. He was so fucking close, and then she'd been ripped out of his grasp.
"Well, can I borrow some money for the bus? I have to see her."
Paris considered the idea for a minute and then said, "Why not—it'll surprise the hell out of her." She gave Jess twenty bucks.
* * * * *
Jess lay on the hard concrete bench at the bus stop. He ached to sleep, but he was worried he would miss the bus or get arrested by some uptight Yale policeman for loitering. It began to rain, hard. He sat up and pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck. He leaned heavily against the pole of the bus stop sign, and wished that the rich Yalies could have sprung for some of those nice covered bus stops. A couple of buses came by, but they were headed in the wrong direction.
Finally, after sitting in the rain for two hours, the bus to Hartford pulled up. It looked just like the bus Jess had taken out of town six months before. There was no one else on it, so he stretched out in the back to try and sleep. It was no use though; he couldn't stop coughing long enough to even dose off. He pulled The Garden of Eden, Hemingway's last, unfinished novel, out of his back pocket, and started reading.
It was only a forty-minute bus ride to Star's Hollow, but it felt interminable. He couldn't believe he was finally at the end. Finally. But, he suddenly realized, it was three in the morning. He couldn't go banging on the Gilmore's door in the middle of the night—what he had done to Rory was bad enough, he didn't want to look like an asshole when he was trying to apologize. There was only one other option, and it wasn't pretty.
* * * * *
Jess stood outside Luke's Diner, rain running down his face. He reached up and felt on the ledge above the door. Crap. No key. He raised his hand to knock—he was not looking forward to this. Might as well get it over with.
He banged hard on the door. It took a few minutes, but a disgruntled Luke finally opened the door.
"What the hell—" Luke stopped short when he saw his nephew standing there. He just stood there, staring at Jess until Jess broke the silence.
"Look, I'm really sorry about everything I did to you, and to her. I don't want to cause any more trouble. I'll go away if you want, I just have to tell her, I have to tell her!"
Everything Jess had been thinking the whole way from California poured out of his mouth. Unfortunately, his impassioned tirade was cut short by another spasm of coughing. He doubled over as the coughs tore through his body, reaching out for the doorframe for support.
Luke caught his arm and pulled him inside the diner. They sat down at one of the tables, and Luke finally got a good look at Jess. He had always been thin, but he looked as though he hadn't eaten in days, his face was pale, but his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were burning with fever.
"Jess, how did you get here?"
"I took a greyhound part of the way and then I walked, hitched, whatever. I have to see her, Luke, I have to tell her I love her."
Angry as he was about what Jess had done to him, and especially to Rory, at that moment, Luke couldn't feel anything but sorry for his nephew.
"C'mon upstairs. You look like you could use a shower and some food and some sleep. We can talk about this situation later."
Jess nodded and let Luke lead him upstairs. Now that he was finally here, it was all hitting him. All the pain of leaving Rory and knowing what he'd done to her, the weeks on the road, the fever—all he could think about was sleeping in a real bed. He tried to head straight for bed, but Luke forced him to shower and eat something first. As hungry as he was, he could barely get down any of the sandwich Luke made before he fell asleep at the table. Luke woke him up and half carried him to bed. Afterwards, Luke stood there for a long time, watching the rain out the window.