A/N: Second chapter, fantastic. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. It really inspires me to keep going. The poem mentioned in the beginning of this is Fate Playing by Ted Hughes obviously. and it's a fantastic poem. Ted Hughes was married to Sylvia Plath just to clear up who the Sylvia mentioned is. Anyway. On with the show.

There's a Ted Hughes poem that I've always loved and I'm reading it just before the plane lands in California. It somehow seems all at once appropriate and completely wrong for the situation at hand. It's the one about Sylvia being confused and waiting at the bus station for him while he's happily riding home on the train. The one about how her fleeting panic gave way to an even stronger love. And I let myself picture him greeting me in a frenzy of love. I picture his panicked face coming towards me. I picture him embracing me as though I've come back from the dead.

When he looks at me as I come through the gate, a single line from this poem is repeating in my head. There, I knew what it was to be a miracle. His eyes are giving him away. I can see him fighting back a smile. Like love forty-nine times magnified.

He stands in front of me now with his hands in his pockets. The sun has tanned his skin to an even more perfect shade of olive which in turn makes his eyes seem to be an unreal shade of brown. He's watching me examine him. He's afraid of me, and rightfully so. I should be seething with anger. He isn't sure if I've come for the reasons he wanted me to come. He isn't sure exactly the reasons behind my coming at all. He shifts from foot to foot and raises his eyebrows in my general direction. "Shall we?" I nod and we're off.

In his car, we listen to the Violent Femmes and it feels like home. He sings softly along to the stereo and I remember how we used to do this all the time. I used to ask him to sing louder because he really does have a nice voice but he never would. I want to reach out to him but instead I look out the window and mouth the words silently.

At a stoplight, he says, without looking at me. "Why'd you come?"

I hesitate, then say. "Just wanted to." It becomes very hard not to smile.

"Oh yeah?" I'm not looking at him because this seems to be the theme of the car ride but I can hear him grinning.

"Yeah."

I want it to be this easy. I want us to be able to fall into this comfortable routine we had set up before. I want all of the ugliness surrounding this trip to suddenly disappear. He leaves the smile half on his face as he drives the rest of the way.

He points out the places he likes to go. Most of them bookstores, some of them coffee shops. He grimly reports that there are only two actual good record stores and then promises a visit to both. For those few moments, it is just like it was before. And I have almost forgotten how he left.

When we pull up to his new house, it hits me again and I don't get out of the car. He is halfway out the door when he turns to look at me. "Are you gonna get out?"

I'm staring at it. This is his home now. Not Stars Hollow. Not even New York. Venice Beach. "What? Oh. Yeah, I guess."

He climbs out of the car and gets my bags from the trunk. He leads the way to the front door and I follow close behind as if I could get lost in the short distance from the driveway. There are dogs in the yard, lots of dogs. He runs through their names and I'm amazed that he can remember all of them.

No one is home and he lifts the doormat with the toe of his boot, looking at me. I bend down and pick up the key he has revealed. His hands are full so I unlock the door and let us in. The house is not what I expected, not what I had been imagining these past few weeks. It is colorful and lively and doesn't suit Jess at all. I let myself wander around a bit, taking in his new life. There are pictures everywhere. As I'm walking towards the kitchen, I spot one on the wall to my left. It's a picture of what I assume to be his father and a woman with short blonde hair. They are standing with their arms around a small girl with big glasses who doesn't look too happy. I realize that this can't be Jess' sister, but she reminds me of him, regardless.

"Who's this?" I ask as he walks by me, having dropped my bags somewhere.

"That is Jimmy, the infamous father figure. And his lovely but crazy girlfriend, Sasha."

"And the little girl?"

"Sasha's daughter, Lily."

"She reminds me of you." I say, smiling at him. He's standing closer than I thought before I turned around. He loosens a bit when I'm facing him. His shoulders drop and he's slouching. His fingers reach out and he's toying with the belt loop on my jeans. I turn back around quickly because I don't want to be that girl again. I will not give in this time.

He lets out a breath as I turn from him. "Funny. She sort of reminded me of you when I first met her."

"Oh, yeah? Why?"

We're in the kitchen now and he's rummaging through the fridge that seems to be full of food but he is coming up with nothing.

"She likes to hide herself in closets, cupboards, whatever can fit her, and read."

"So, you're saying I'm a reclusive phonics addict?"

"More or less." He emerges from behind the refrigerator door with an unsatisfied look on his face. "All we have in this house is health food or leftover pizza."

"I'm not hungry." He looks at me in disbelief. "Really, I had a big breakfast. And lots of airplane peanuts."

"Pizza, it is." He pulls out a box and two sodas.

I grin at him. "Good. I'm famished."

I'm about to start on my third slice of pizza when I stop suddenly. "I was angry, you know."

He looks up from his food. "I don't blame you."

"Really angry. I mean, why then? Right at the end of senior year? Before prom, before graduation. It was just awful timing."

"It was. I know. But, I had to…"

"I think I understand it now." He nods slightly. "I probably wouldn't have been so upset if you had just…told me what was going on with you."

"You would've tried to talk me out of leaving."

I frown. "Probably." I wait a second before adding quietly. "I missed you."

He just looks at me, no emotion on his face. We're sitting on the floor, on opposite sides of the coffee table. He's moving to my side, crawling on his hands and knees. I would laugh but the look on his face is serious. When he's close enough that I feel his breath on my neck, he sits.

And that's it. He just sits next to me and we both look at the wall for what seems like hours. I remember the phone call, what I said to him on my graduation day. I had forgotten all about it until now. I turn and look at the side of his face. He's always had a tragic sort of look to him. Dark eyes, dark hair, the corners of his mouth always falling into an indifferent frown. "I…What I said that time, when you called but kept not saying anything, I meant it. Well, obviously not the whole letting it go part."

He closes his eyes and I'm terrified he's going to start crying. I don't know why I think this, he doesn't look like he's ever cried in his life. Instead, he lets out a sigh and opens them again. "Rory…I can't…" His hand is covering his face and I take it down, letting my fingers wrap around his. I try to make this easy for him. "I don't want to say that to you. It's…" He shakes his head and looks down at our fingers. "It's just full of promises I don't know if I can keep. Promises I'm not sure I can make to you."

"Jess, you don't have to promise me anything. I just need to know that…this is…something. I don't know. I just need to know that this isn't all in my head. I need to know that coming across the country was for something." I feel like I'm going to cry. My throat is tight and my eyes are stinging, but I don't let myself. I need to be strong.

But, he kisses me and I can't help myself. I'm sobbing into our kiss, tasting my own tears on his lips. He tries to pull away, to let me cry, to see what's wrong. I don't let him. I'm not ready to break contact yet. I feel pathetic but I'm clinging to him.

He finally gets the upper hand and pulls away from the kiss, forcefully. He looks scared, almost. His hand is still on my cheek and he's looking at me as though I've been unconscious and he's trying to revive me. "Rory, what's wrong?"

I shake my head but I'm still crying. I hate this feeling. My head hurts and I can't breathe properly. This is what I've been holding in for weeks, months. I finally regain my ability to speak. "Nothing. I'm sorry."

"C'mon."

He gets up and holds a hand out to me which I take eagerly. He walks me down a hall and I'm gripping that hand tightly. He's here. That's what I keep saying. I'm here, he's here. He leads me through a doorway and flips on a light. We're in a bathroom. I sit on the toilet, finally letting his hand free. He turns on the water and after a few seconds his hand is gently touching my shoulder. I let him hold my hair back as I splash the cold water onto my face. I smile weakly at him as I reach for a towel.

"So, why did you come? I mean, a real reason." He leans against the doorjamb with his arms folded across his chest.

"I came because…I guess because I threw away a lot to be with you, you know. I went against a lot of people I loved and trusted for you. And I didn't want them to be right about you. I wanted to prove them wrong."

He unfolds his arms and I think this is a signal to move toward him but I stay put. "Why'd you do it?"

I'm confused. I just answered this question. "Do what?"

"Throw it away, go against people you trusted. All of that, just for me. Why?"

"Because…I don't know. I liked you." I laugh. "It seems sort of stupid, doesn't it?"

He shakes his head firmly and seriously. "Not at all."

We stay silent in the bathroom for a few minutes, not looking at each other. Then, there's a noise coming from the front of the house and we're stirred back to life.

We walk back into the hallway and there's Jimmy. He smiles at Jess. "There you are." Then, he seems me, coming out from behind Jess. "Oh, you have company."

"Jimmy, this is Rory."

Jimmy looks surprised when he hears my name and is once again smiling widely. "Oh! Rory. Rory, you're here. Wow." Jess is rolling his eyes and he puts an arm around my waist, pulling me close to him.

"It's nice to meet you." I hold out my hand for him to shake but he hugs me instead.

"Thank God, you're here. Jess has been moping for weeks."

Jess groans. "Jeez, Jimmy."

I look up at him, trying not to grin. "Moping, eh?"

"I was not moping."

Jimmy puts a hand on his shoulder and looks at me. "He was moping." He eyes us for a second, Jess' arm is still protectively wrapped around my waist. "Well, I saw the pizza box in the living room so I guess you two have eaten. Sash and Lily should be home any minute now."

"Grrreat." Jess draws out the word sarcastically.

"Okay then." Jimmy retreats down the hallway and into a room.

Jess steers me into a bedroom and I sit on the edge of the bed.

"So, that was Jimmy?"

"That was Jimmy."

"He doesn't seem so bad."

"No."

"In fact, he's sort of exactly like you."

"Don't say that."

"No, he is."

"Well, we're both pathetic losers, so I guess you're right."

"I didn't mean it like that. I meant, your good qualities are similar."

I look around the room and realize this must be his. The curtains are drawn and it's a mess. There are piles of books on the floor and CD's scattered everywhere. "This is your room?"

"Yeah." He's moving my bags off of the bed so he can sit down next to me.

"Where am I sleeping?"

"There." He motions towards the floor next to the bed.

"The floor?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Well, it's hard and uncomfortable. That's a problem."

He laughs. "Don't worry. We have an air mattress somewhere."

"Okay, fine." I pout and he just smiles at me.

Later, Sasha and Lily come home and I am introduced. Once again, they act surprised and overjoyed to meet me. Sasha and Jimmy disappear into the kitchen and I can hear them arguing, my name being mentioned a few times. Jess assures me that this happened when he showed up and that it will pass.

I'm getting ready for bed in the hallway bathroom when Jess appears in the doorway. I stop brushing my teeth and look at him in the mirror. "What?"

"There's a phone in my room, you know."

"Oh." I start brushing my teeth again. I haven't even thought about calling home since I got here.

"Just thought you might want to call home or something."

I rinse my mouth out and spit. "I can call tomorrow. It's late there, anyway." I say, wiping my face with a towel.

"True."

I'm standing in front of him in my pajamas while he's still fully dressed. "Shall we?"

He nods and we walk back to his bedroom. Once inside, I suddenly feel awkward. I feel like we have been rewound. Two months ago, this would have been fine. Two months ago, we probably wouldn't have been standing on opposite sides of the bedroom, with our arms folded across our chests.

Suddenly, he is taking off his clothes. For a second, I stand and stare at him with wide eyes. Then, I quickly turn away from him, trying to occupy myself with my luggage and my air mattress. I hear him chuckle from the other side of the room and look up.

"What's funny?"

"This. Us. What we're doing."

"I don't know what to do with this!" I throw my hands in the air and gesture around the room. "I'm in your bedroom and you're getting undressed! What am I supposed to do?" He is moving closer. This is not a good idea seeing as he is now only wearing boxers and a white t-shirt. "You know, two months ago, I was ready to sleep with you! I was even on the pill!"

I stop, blushing furiously at the confession I have just made.

"Really?" He's smirking and raising his eyebrows and I hate it.

"Yes."

"Huh." And he's silent again.

Then, he's moving closer again. And his hands are on my arms, running up and down their sides. I let my hands fall on his waits, feeling the warmth of his skin through the worn fabric of his shirt. He doesn't kiss me, though. He puts his arms around me and pulls me closer to him. I stay there, pressed against him. And I'm reveling in the rise and fall of his chest. The sturdy feeling of his body.

We lie down on his bed and he lets his fingers get lost in my hair. When his fingers have stopped moving, I look at him. His eyes are closed and his mouth is slightly parted. I nestle into the curve of his body and let my eyes close.

I start to whisper because I think it's safe, because I think he won't wake up. "I don't understand. Dean loved me, I loved him. We were good together. Nothing was complicated. Why wasn't that good enough for me? Why did I trade him in for someone as broken as you?"

He speaks, his voice tired. "You were suffocating in that relationship. With or without me, it wasn't going to last forever." He sighs against my forehead. "Besides, I'm glad you traded him in. Someone as broken as me needed someone like you."

His breathing returns to its deep in and out and he has fallen back asleep. I look at him once more before falling asleep myself.