Title: Submission

Summary: After getting away from Jordan who raped her, Rory ends up in New York where she meets Jess.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except maybe for Jordan, but I don't know if I should be happy about that.

A/N: there's no excuse, I know, I haven't updated in forever. Thing is, I've been busy with school and trying to write some HP fanfiction, and I just didn't have much inspiration for any GG fic. Sorry!

Chapter 8:

It was exactly like she had pictured his place. Dark, smelling vaguely like him and a strong scent she later discovered had to do with his drugusing habits.

He noticed the way she critically observed her surroundings and grinned.

"It's not a castle, I know, but it's..."

"It's perfect"

She interrupted, smiling.

It was. It was exactly what she needed right now. A hideout. Somewhere nobody would find her. A place Jordan would never expect her to be. She was safe her. Safe with Jess.

Jess.

She looked at him and smiled again. He had a surprised look in his eyes, which as far as she knew could come from either the drugs or her comment. He smiled back, a goofy grin which made her want to laugh out loud. Cause she could. Cause suddenly she felt calm and in control and happy. She suppressed the urge to hug him, partly because she was scared that her feeling of control was just fake and partly because she expected him to be a stranger to plain platonic hugs.

So instead she looked around the room once more, seeing new things now she was used to the dim light. A few lighters were on the table, a bent spoon next to them. She had expected everything to be messy, but to her surprise the blankets on his bed were neatly folded and there was no piece of trash to be seen.

"Not fitting your description of a junkie's home?"

His voice was nice, she suddenly noticed. Even though people had warned her about junks; about how they would do anything to get stoned, even if it included stealing and murdering people; there wasn't even a hint of malice in his voice. He sounded just nice; kind. He wasn't coming on to her, didn't seem to want to hurt her, he hadn't even felt offended when she had called him a junkie.

She shook her head, noticing something new and unexpected in his room.

"You read!"

She exclaimed, not fully managing to hide her surprise.

"Yup. I did learn how to read in school ya know..."

She blushed, though his words hadn't been sarcastic. It was just a simple statement.

"Can I...?"

She gestured to the books.

"Sure. Coffee?"

She had already picked up the pile of books and had made herself comfortable on the bed. Looking up, for the first time he noticed that her blue eyes seemed to change colour to suit her mood. When she had been scared her eyes had been a dark blue, flaming with suppressed anger and a hint of readiness to flee. Now, she felt more comfortable. He could see that she loved books. Her eyes were a lighter blue now, little sparkles in them whenever she read a passage that she particularly loved.

"Coffee it is"

He confirmed to himself. She didn't even seem to hear him, but he didn't mind. It was almost time for his shot again anyway.

He picked up the spoon and his favourite lighter and made his way into the kitchen, wondering how strange this night had turned out to be. He had just been out to score some, and now he was playing saviour for some innocent girl.

Innocent.

Once upon a time he had been innocent too. He had been going to school, hung out with friends, the whole normal teen thing. Then his parents had divorced and his mother had gotten another boyfriend. He had never trusted that asshole and it turned out that he was right. Things had happened, awful things, that he had sworn never to tell his mother about. He couldn't. He didn't want her to feel so heartbroken again as she had when his father had left. So he had taken the hurtful comments, the abuse, all of the pain, and he had never said a word. He had just started to escape. By doing drugs, even though he knew his mother wouldn't understand. He disappointed her, but at least she still had love.

Because, even though he abused Jess, Mike loved Liz. Loved her, truly loved her, with all his heart. He loved her so much that he couldn't bare the thought that she loved anybody else. So he got rid of the one person she did.

And that's how Jess had ended up on the streets. After starting to do weed, Mike had thrown him out and secretly threatened to kill him if he ever dared to show up again. By then, he had been so stoned that he didn't care. He just picked up his stuff and left.

Weed had passed, and he had found out that he needed something stronger to numb the pain. That's when he had found heroin. At first he smoked it, melting it on a spoon and smoking the steam that came of off it. It was strong, and faked him into believing that it wasn't all that bad. It was just like cigarettes really.

When he got more curious he tried out his first needle. He had heard other junks talking about the 'flash' it gave them and it was something that sounded so amazing he just had to try it.

And amazing it was. So amazing that there was no turning back. Though he had only recently starting injecting he knew that unless a miracle happened he would stay addicted forever.

The familiar scent tickled his nostrils and he felt his whole body tense in anticipation. Just a few more seconds and that mindnumbing heavenly feeling would start seering through his body again.

He groaned when the needle broke his skin, leaning against the kitchen sink with his eyes closed. Soon the burning sensation of the hard metal in his back began to fade and he moulded against it for support.

That was how Rory found him. A needle still stuck in his arm, eyes closed in obvious bliss. She took the liberty of satisfying her curiosity now that he was so clearly spaced out, and her eyes travelled over his body. He was skinny, but it suited him. A black shirt clung to his body and she smiled inwardly. He had good taste, not just in books.

While she was looking at him she felt a pain taking a hold of her heart. She wanted this too. She wanted to be able to feel so safe and at peace like Jess seemed to do now. She wanted the bliss. The numbness. She just wanted everything to stop.

She extended her hand to touch the little bag of powder lying on the sink. She convinced herself that it was just to see how it looked from nearby, but she felt herself calming down just holding it.

How would it feel if I took a sniff?

Would it really be as amazing as Jess makes it look?

She was just about to open the bag when a hand grabbed her arm...

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