Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls.

Summary: Friendship. Hate. Passion. Love. Friendship, once again they were back where they started, denying feelings, reading books, one of them in a relationship. Can they get where they've never been before? Or are they just going to keep killing themselves inside? Lit, JJ

AN: Well to start off. No, this story is not a one shot I am way too much of a rambler to make anything a one-shot. I tried writing one once and it was just…I had to continue it. It was calling for me. Anyways, I'm not sure how soon I'm posting this but I wanted to do death of mind before I thought of something else and decided to write that. And, yes, it may be the day after I posted blue but I'm in a fairly upbeat mood despite strep throat. So anyways I'm gonna get started now.

Green: Death of Mind

She was knocking on Logan's door. She was knocking on the dickhead's door. The guy she never wanted to see again last night. That was her only choice, wasn't it? Mr. Big shot Yale the dickhead or dickhead Dean who dropped out of college and cheated on his wife. Dickhead Yale wins by a thumb. She couldn't be thinking, only she must have been but not about anything worth getting back together with Logan for. I have to get back at Jess. Jess, that word stung in her body like nothing else could. She knocked harder and more impatiently then her cell started ringing, she scowled and looked at the Caller ID. Logan. Nope. Not as bad as Jess. She cursed herself and pressed the little green button and put on the same fake smile used at DAR meetings.

"I missed you." She wasn't thinking. That's the excuse she gave Lorelai when she asked why she took him back the next day, of course, she had left out that Jess had come and she went after him and tried to get him to run away with her. She still wasn't allowed in. Rory wasn't sure where in was but her mother wasn't there. She hadn't been there when Rory had been in Europe. Trying to feel or not feel or trying to escape…Ruining her perfect skin with anything that would cut it. Belt buckles, knives, thumbtacks, paperclips …not where anyone could see, of course, once in a while she'd go too far and slit a wrist and make some stupid excuse but Lorelai always believed her…because Rory was good and Rory would never lie to Lorelai. Luke had been the one to get suspicious but Rory had learned to be careful around him. Now she had Logan though and Logan would cause her to bleed in other ways…ways she had only wanted Jess to make her bleed. Jess. That stupid word again, maybe Rory should be a good girl and get it abolished from the dictionary. But then his stupid publishing company would print another one that had it again.

"Well start!" Lorelai had screamed and a pang hit Rory inside. She doesn't understand… just like she never understood him…us…you can't tell her anything anymore now that she's with Luke and she's got the inn…she won't understand anything less than perfect.

"I've gotta go," Rory murmured getting up from the couch. She pet the dog on her way out and slammed the door behind her.

"So you're moving back in with us?" Yes, bitch, it's not like mom's gonna take me back after I took Logan back and associated with Jess…ugh.

"Yes Grandma," She said cheerfully through gritted teeth. "I'm sorry I was so terrible at the DAR meeting the other day. I just had a little fight with Logan the other day…and I got a little scared that we weren't…"

"I understand Rory," Emily said putting a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. Like hell you do. "I'm sorry that I couldn't be here for you earlier. Should I have the maid bring some milk and cookies?"

"No thank you, Grandma," Rory said in her rehearsed little voice. You're what drove him away.

He was supposed to go after her, he realized after about fifteen minutes of standing in front of the Henson building looking at where her car had been. If he could only remember where he parked…nope, no use, his apartment was only a few blocks away so it wasn't like he was losing much. Well, besides her. He wanted something he wasn't sure what…something he wasn't supposed to want. Beer? He thought and shook his head. A smoke? That was it but what kind. Pot…Nope, not going into rehab for a year again. Last time she rejected him he had gone away…he had quit his job and resorted to living in stairwells and on fire escapes until his mother had found out what he was doing then he was forced into everything rehab clinics have to offer. He was treated for drug addiction, alcohol addiction, and counseled for his problems with Rory; they even got him to quit smoking cigarettes, for the most part. First few sessions had been useless.

"Mr. Mariano," The shrink smiled. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, I think the paperwork tells you that, Chuck." He snapped leaning back in his chair and glaring at the man.

"What was the cause of your addiction?"

"Well you see, a couple years ago I got in a fight and they gave me drugs to ease the pain."

"Really?" The man raised an eyebrow looking through his paperwork. "I must have missed that."

"It's not in there," He smirked. "I had a cold, they prescribed some penicillin or something."

"What was it?" He ignored Jess. "Your parents? A girl?" Jess flinches slightly. "Ah, a girl. Did she like you? Did she cheat on you? Did she break up with you? Come on, buddy. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong."

"You promise?" Jess asked in a weak voice and the psych nods. Jess walks over to the door and opens it. "Hey, you promised." He said as the man started to get up and slammed the door behind him.

He walked back to his apartment and opened the door, closing it softly behind him and ending up on his sofa fumbling with his keys. "Rory came back," He told them. "This time she asked me to run away with her, know what I did?" The keys didn't answer him. "I didn't say anything and she drove off on me." The keys jingled, mocking him. "How would it feel if I drove the car without you? Hot wired it or something. What purpose would you have then? None. You'd just sit here and wish you had a car." He slumped down and stared at the ceiling. "I wish I had a car."