A/N: Thanks for the great reviews guys! I really can't tell you how much I love you guys for those. They're like pixie sticks highs to me, and that's saying something.
**Disclaimer: I own a Discman, a shelf full of books, and this laptop. I don't own anything related to this show. And even if you do sue me, all you're getting is the Discman and the books because there's no way in hell you're getting my laptop.**
A Whole New World
by Angel Monroe
Chapter 7: There
Rory's eyes fluttered open a few hours later. At first, she didn't know where she was. Feeling the comfort of a real mattress underneath her, there was a fleeting moment while her eyes were still closed when she thought she might be back at her house in Stars Hollow. But as she opened her eyes, she recognized her surroundings as those of her friend's bedroom.
Sitting up slowly, a wave of grief swept over her. For a few short moments, she had been home, waiting for her mother to come bounding into the room, screaming at the top of her lungs about one thing or the other. She had been home, and now she was here again.
Feeling the wetness of tears on her cheeks, she brushed them aside impatiently. She shouldn't be thinking of this right now. She was supposed to be helping Jess with his grief, not wallowing in her own. She kicked herself for falling asleep; she hoped Jess didn't think she was being rude. She just hadn't really gotten much actual rest the night before.
'I wonder where he is,' she thought nervously. She didn't like the idea of him going off and leaving her here by herself. What happened if his mother came home? That would definitely have been an awkward conversation.
As if on cue, the door creaked open and Jess poked his head in.
"Hey," he said softly, as if not trying to wake her any more. He came all the way into the room and closed the door behind himself.
"Hey," she replied a little groggily as she leaned against the wall. "What time is it?" She glanced out the window where the sun was still out, but during the summer, that just meant that it wasn't two in the morning yet.
Jess pointed to the alarm clock radio on his desk. "Eight thirty," he replied coming to sit across from her. "You were asleep for a while." He too looked out the window where the sun was hovering above the horizon, just about ready to set.
"Yeah," she said running her hands through her hair to smooth away any tangles caused by her nap. "I guess I haven't really been sleeping that well lately." She lowered her eyes to keep him from seeing her tears, trying to wipe them away inconspicuously. "Why'd you let me sleep that long?" she asked trying to sound casual.
"You just looked like you needed it," he replied. When she glanced up at him despite herself, he noticed how red her eyes were. "Have you been crying?" he asked, his voice gentle and somewhat alarmed.
"It's nothing," she said trying to brush away the remaining wetness on her cheeks. "I was just thinking about my mom."
"Oh," he said lowering his eyes for a moment before he looked up into hers again. "You wanna talk about it?"
She smiled, remembering how she had said those words to him only hours ago. "I'm okay," she assured him. "I just wish I could talk to her."
"Why can't you?" he asked a little confused. "I mean, she has a phone, right?"
"She does," Rory said nodding her head, "but the doctors said that she shouldn't have phone calls or contact anyone for a week or so because they don't want her stress levels to alter the effectiveness of the treatment. She started the day before yesterday, so I'm on day number three of seven."
"How are you taking that?" Jess asked.
Rory smiled slightly. "Kicking and screaming," she replied almost guiltily.
"I figured," he said, a sympathetic smile on his face. "You don't really seem the type to take things lying down."
"You have no idea," she chuckled. "My mom and I are the most stubborn, impatient people in the world. You should see us at a shoe sale."
"Oh yeah," he said, his eyes focusing on a distant nothing as if watching the scene unfold before him, "I can see it now. You see a pair of Dockers three rows down. But look, a senior citizen has spied the same pair for her granddaughter's 16th birthday. You both race for them, her wheeler squeaking against the floor as a crowd gathers to watch in anticipation. You're head to head until you finally knock her over, causing a broken hip as she hits the floor. You snatch the Docs and the crowd goes wild."
"It's brutal," Rory said, shaking her head as she tried to keep a straight face, "but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do." She smiled warmly as his chocolate eyes met hers again.
"You feeling better now?" he asked.
"Lots," she replied almost surprised to find that it was true. She realized then what he had done. "Thanks."
"No problem," he said, a twinge of a real smile of his face, his eyes shining with a spark she didn't really recognize. "So how did you sleep?" he asked looking away from her inquisitive eyes.
"Not bad," she replied toying with the hem of her sleeve. "Sleeping on an actual bed was nice . . ."
'Feel free any time,' Jess thought, then had to stop himself from physically slapping his own forehead.
". . . It almost felt like home," she finished, and Jess felt guilty for his previous thoughts.
"Are you just going to sleep on that air mattress at your aunt's house until you leave?" he asked, changing the subject to cover his discomfort. "Or is she going to set up a bed for you?"
"I don't really know," Rory replied. "I mean, I have no idea how long mom will be in treatment, so I'm staying in town indefinitely."
Jess stifled a smile, not really knowing how he was supposed to react. Was he supposed to be happy that she wasn't going to leave him or sad that she wasn't able to see her mother, the person she cared about most. "It won't be so bad," he tried to comfort her. "I mean, there's tons of stuff to do around town, and school doesn't start for another month and a half so you don't have to worry about that. Though for some reason, I don't see you as a C- student."
"Not really," she said smiling modestly. "I'm kind of a nerd. I started at this private school last year with an outrageous amount of homework and tests and teachers who loved the words 'pop quiz.' It was insane, but I actually liked it a lot better than my old high school." She stopped when she saw Jess giving her an amused look. "What?"
"You were a private school girl?" he asked almost laughing.
Rory felt a blush grow high in her cheeks. "Yeah, and what of it?" she said with mock challenge in her tone.
"Nothing," he replied smirking, "I just couldn't picture you in one of those little plaid skirts and everything. But oddly enough, it seems like it could be you."
"Stop it," she said throwing a pillow at him as her blush deepened. "You're treading on dangerous grounds."
"No really," he teased, "did you have the saddle shoes and everything? 'Cause I would pay to see that. Oh, and pigtail braids in your hair. Priceless."
"Okay," she said with a mock indignant tone, getting up heading toward the window, "if you want to keep laughing, I'll just leave."
"No, wait!" he said still laughing. "I didn't mean it! I'm sorry!"
He grabbed for her hand, but ended up throwing himself off balance. Tumbling off the bed, he continued his guffaws as she slipped out through the now darkened window. She didn't really feel like taking the long way around to use the stairs.
"Night Jess," she said right before disappearing from sight.
Lying there a moment, he let his mind wonder over the events of the last few days. Suddenly, a thought popped into his head, and he got up quickly to follow her. Stepping out onto the fire escape, he saw that she was already on the ground.
"Rory!" he called descending the three stories as fast as he could, his voice suddenly serious and almost urgent. "Rory, wait for me!"
"What's wrong?" she stopped about fifteen yards away from the bottom of the fire escape.
"I'm walking you home," he said firmly as he jumped the rest of the way to the ground.
"I told you before that I don't need an escort to walk a block," she said, still a little confused.
"Yes you do," he objected coming up next to her, but there was no teasing in his voice. "You should not be walking around by yourself at night here. It's not safe."
"I'll be fine," she said as they began to walk in the direction of her apartment. "I was out here last night and I got home all right."
"Look, Rory," he said, trying to make her get it. "Maybe you did fine last night, but that doesn't make it any less dangerous. This isn't Connecticut; this is Manhattan, and a lot could happen out here at night. A lot that you really don't want to know about. Now promise me you won't go out alone at night again."
"Jess . . ." she began to protest, thinking that he was acting kind of ridiculous.
"Promise me," he insisted. "I don't want to see you get hurt. I've lost enough friends in the last few days."
"Okay," she relented finally, still confused and a little worried. "I understand."
"Thank you," he said, his eyes still dark and serious. They walked the rest of the way in a solemn silence.
The next day marked the wake and funeral of Jim, Ryan, Randy, and Keith. The service was set up very tastefully with closed caskets surrounded by white roses. Mourners lined up to pay their respects, setting flowers of every shade on the polished wooden lids of the coffins.
Rory and Jess walked forward and stood in front of the remains of his friends. They both placed one yellow rose on each of the caskets, each silently saying a last goodbye.
As Jess stood there, thinking about his friends lying motionless and lifeless forever within those boxes, he almost wished he could cry for them. They deserved some kind of emotion from him, their lifelong friend. Still, he knew he wouldn't and couldn't cry. He hadn't in almost ten years, not even two years back when his father had split, disappearing during the night without even a note to say goodbye. Not even then had he let himself become emotional, and he knew that he couldn't start now.
Still, the words in his head refused to stay put, spewing forth from his mouth as they walked away from the caskets. "I should have been there," he said regretfully, more to himself than to his companion. "I should have gone with them to that job."
"No," Rory objected. "You would have gotten yourself killed, just like them." There was a pause as she considered her next words, "Is that what you want?" Her eyes when she said this were so wide, so disbelieving, and yet so hurt at the same time.
He didn't turn towards her as they sat on two of the metal folding chairs set up in rows in the funeral parlor. "If I had been there," he explained looking down at his hands folded between his knees, "or John, or Steve even, things would have turned out different. Everyone knew that we were the brains in all of those stupid jobs they got us into. If we would have been there, we could have fixed things before they got out of hand."
"You don't know that," she told him, her eyes filling with tears. "It could have ended up the exact same way, only you and Steve and my cousin would not be standing here, and I would be crying for you."
Jess could see the logic, but he still felt the twinges of guilt poking at the back of his mind. He knew very well that if Rory hadn't been there, he would have joined his friends just to provide backup. That's what he did. He had never cared what they were doing; he'd just be there because they needed him. But he had abandoned them for this girl, and now they were dead. Now he would never see them again, and now he had to give condolences to their brokenhearted families.
He looked over at Keith's six-year-old sister, and for a second he thought he might lose it. "Let's go outside for a minute," he said numbly as he stood up and headed towards the front door. "I need to get some air."
Stepping outside into the harsh afternoon sun, Jess felt completely lost. Sitting on the steps, he closed his eyes and put his face in his hands, trying to block out the light. It was all so weird. He had grown up with these guys. He had learned to lie, cheat, steal, and play poker right along side of them. He had spent his entire life up to that point with the same group of people, thinking that they would always be there. But now they weren't, and everything he had ever known was gone.
"Breathe," he heard Rory's voice as she sat down beside him, and only then did he realize that he had been holding his breath.
'Holding my breath for what?' he thought letting it out slowly. 'What could I possibly be waiting for?'
"I'm okay," he told Rory. "I just felt like I was suffocating in there."
"I know," she said putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.
She had also been feeling kind of trapped inside, almost to the point of lightheadedness. Standing there looking at caskets had been harder on her than she'd thought it would be. Every time she'd looked at them, she'd thought of her mother lying in one, so pale and lifeless. It could still happen. In days, weeks, months, years, she could be saying goodbye forever to the woman who gave birth to her, raised her, and given her the world. The thought was too much for her. She had felt entrapped in a haze, like she was staring through the eyes of someone else.
"Why don't we get out of here," she suggested, and he gave her a look of uncertainty. "We've already paid our respects and talked to everyone. I don't think they'll miss us, and this atmosphere really isn't good for either of us."
He nodded his head, seeing her point. He really hadn't even thought of what this was doing to her. Here she was, not knowing if her mother was going to live or die, and now she was going to a funeral. "Let's go," he said standing up.
"I have to go tell John and Aunt Grace," she replied standing as well. "I'll be right back."
As she disappeared inside, he let his mind wander over the last few days. It was so surreal. In the time span of less than one week, he had met a girl, narrowly missed a fatal situation, and gone to the funeral of four of his friends. He had known people who had died. The guy in the apartment next to his back when he was seven had committed suicide. Death was not a tragedy in New York; it was an everyday occurrence. Still, it had never been so close to him, and for the first time in his life, he knew that he didn't want to turn out that way.
He had done his deal of stealing, drinking, vandalism, whatever in his life. He had gone in on more than a few of the guys' stupid jobs to make a quick buck. He had grown up playing the game, survival of the fittest, and now it just seemed so inconsequential. It was a game a child plays to escape boredom and the demons in his head. It wasn't real, and it was going to kill him if he didn't stop it right there and then.
"You ready?" he heard Rory through his thoughts, and turned to look at her.
She was just standing there, leaning slightly tense against the metal handrail. There was nothing odd or unusual in her actions, nothing extraordinary. Yet there was something about her that made him at ease. Her presence was water to his parched and dying soul, a soul that he had just pledged to save. She had saved his life this week in more ways than one. This week she had saved his soul.
"I'm ready," he said, still looking into her oceanic eyes. 'Damn she's beautiful,' he thought as he looked away, afraid that she would see.
"So where do you want to go?" she asked him as they began to walk toward the subway.
"The bookstore seems like as good a place as any," he replied, knowing that it was where she had wanted to go anyway.
"Okay," she said, her voice lightening a little though she didn't smile. He wanted so much to make her smile right then because maybe seeing her beautiful smile would bring one to his own lips. Just maybe.
They fell into silence as they rode the subway toward Washington Square Park. They really didn't have anything to say. There was nothing to say at a time like this, nothing that could possibly bring them comfort. Their only choice now was to lose themselves in the magic of literature as they had done so many times before.
Stepping in through the doors of Jay's Books was like walking into a spa after six weeks of boot camp. They were both in serious need of pampering and this was just what they'd asked for. Without a parting word, they headed off into separate sections of the shop, falling into the comfortable armchairs and the safety on their first love.
Several hours later, Jess was almost finished with his second book of the day. He had been reading quickly, almost entranced by the history and fiction twined together on the pages. Many people couldn't get into historic novels, but he actually liked them. Try to get him to read a history text book and he'd fight you tooth and nail, but historical fiction was different. The boring parts were bridged by mystery, fantasy . . . he could even almost get into the romance. He was so wrapped up in the story that he didn't see Jay standing above him with a sad look on her face.
"I hate to do this," she said finally drawing his attention, "but I was supposed to close twenty minutes ago."
Jess looked up at her slightly confused. "What time is it?" he asked, feeling a little like he was coming out of a dream.
"Eight fifty," she replied.
"Huh," he said standing up slowly. "I guess that's my cue to get my ass out."
"I know you've been going through something fierce," she said sympathetically, "what with your friends and all, but I have kids waiting for me at home."
"I know," he said apologetically as he put the book back on the shelf. "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it," she said kindly. Then, slyly trying to lighten the mood, "So who's the girl you came here with? She the first one I've ever seen twice."
Jess half-smiled. "That's Rory," he said as they meandered back toward the front. "She's John Patterson's little cousin here for awhile from Connecticut. I've been showing her around the city and stuff."
"Mhm," she said smiling, "Is that all it is?"
Jess rolled his eyes at the woman. "Do you think I would be stupid enough to go after John's favorite cousin? They'd never find my body."
"But you like her?" Jay asked. The woman had always been able to read him. She was almost like a mother to him where his real one was lacking.
"Well . . ." Jess struggled for an answer, ". . . I guess so. I mean, she's great, too good for me even. But there's something there on my end."
"So why are you sitting in my humble establishment instead of taking her out to dinner, you lug head?" she asked him, playfully swatting him over the back of the head.
"Did you not catch the 'Too good for me' clause there?" he asked her. "She's not interested. She made that perfectly clear yesterday when she got all upset at John for thinking that we were together. Trust me; she just wants to be friends."
"Whatever you say," Jay said as they reached the front of the shop. "I'll be taking care of a few last minute things while you go find your girl. Let me know when you leave."
"Will do," Jess smirked. The woman had always known how to make him relax. She had always been a confidant to him over matters too deep for the guys. Especially stuff like this.
Looking through the stacks for Rory, he finally came upon her in the classic lit section. She was stretched out across a couch, her bare feet resting on the armrest while her black, high-heeled sandals lay on the floor. Her head was propped against the other armrest and the book lay open in her lap. Her knee-length black skirt had ridden up a few inches, but it wasn't enough to be obscene. It was just enough to make his pulse quicken.
She was facing away from him, and for a moment he thought she was sleeping again. He liked to watch her sleep. That way he could look at her without worrying about her knowing how he felt and running away. Alas, he saw her turn the page almost reverently, and he knew that he had to speak up.
"Rory," he almost whispered, not wishing to scare or surprise her too much.
"Hey," she said sitting up and turning to him.
"Hey," he replied in his usual manner. "It's getting late, so I really think I should get you home."
"Okay," she said slipping her sandals onto her feet. "I wonder why John hasn't paged me," she said. "He usually checks in when I'm with you."
"We've all had a pretty rough day," Jess reasoned. "He probably just forgot."
"Yeah," she said nodding her head more to herself than to him. She had been worrying a lot about John the last couple days. The guys had been his friends too, and she didn't like that he hadn't checked in.
"So," Jess said to break the silence, "we have to get going. Jay was supposed to close about a half hour ago."
"Oh," Rory said standing up quickly, "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was getting so late."
"It's okay," he said, slightly amused by her discomfort. She was always so polite, so afraid of everyone else's feelings. It was odd to him. "Jay's okay with it, but we have to start heading out."
"I'm ready," she said sliding the book back into its rightful place. She suddenly got a sense of déjà vu and blushed at the memory of being so close to him the last time they had been there. "Come on," she said keeping her head down as she walked towards the front.
Jess noticed the color springing to her cheeks and the slight smile playing over her lips and wondered what she was thinking. "Okay," he said following, a little confused, but it was just good to see her smiling again.
When they reached her apartment door again, she turned to him. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked him taking his hand in her own, her bright blue eyes shining with concern.
Jess thought a minute, not really sure how to answer. It was a perplexing question. In one way, he wanted to say yes. He was okay because he had come to terms with his guilt and his situation back at the funeral parlor. He had decided to change, and that was the best way he could ever hope to honor his friends' memories. Still, he didn't really feel it was right to be okay yet. It wasn't respectful. So he just came out with his usual reply, "I think I'll live."
And that was all Rory needed to hear. She could see in his eyes that he was struggling with something, but she knew that he would get through it. She only hoped that she could be around to help him.
"Well, goodnight then," she said squeezing his hand lightly. "I'll see you later?"
"Yeah," he replied squeezing back. The simple touch of her soft hand was making him lose focus, so he decided to take that moment to depart before he did something he knew he would regret. "Night Rory," he said letting go of her hand and walking away. When he heard the click of the deadbolt, he whispered to the girl that was no longer there, "Sweet dreams."
The next few days went by in a flash. Each day started with coffee at that same coffeehouse and each night ended with Jess walking Rory home, whispering those same two words after she'd closed the door. It was a bittersweet farewell from a guy who wished he didn't have to leave.
His mother had, in fact, come home with a new boyfriend and a bad mood after three days of God knows what. Therefore, Jess kept to his bedroom, coming and going through the window. He hadn't let Rory come by because he was afraid of what Liz or her "boyfriend" would do. Liz herself was known to be irrational when drunk, which was fairly frequently, but Jess had learned from experience that most of the guys she brought home were sleazier than pond scum. Some had hit his mother and even him if he tried to stop it. He had no idea what this one would say or do to Rory.
He had spent one off the three days with John and Steve, though he still got coffee with Rory in the morning. After everything, he thought that it was only right for the three remaining guys to get together, see where they stood. The event had hit them each pretty hard. They needed to regroup.
While the guys had spent some much needed time just hanging out, Rory had stayed home and helped Grace turn the study into an actual bedroom. They set up new bed in the corner and moved the computer into John's room so Rory could set up her laptop on the desk. It had been a while since she had turned it on. She hadn't really been in the mood to write lately. Rory put up pictures of Lorelai and Lane. God, how she missed them.
She had called Lane once since she'd gotten into town to let her know how she was and about John and Jess and Grace. Still, it was a long way from seeing her second best friend every day of the week. Lane, of course, was going crazy without her, but she was adjusting. Rory just hoped she wouldn't adjust too much and forget about her completely.
The other two days, Jess and Rory went to Jay's. It was quickly becoming their place, even though they weren't technically together. Still, after a few days, Jess felt as if she were the only girl he would ever want to bring there. It was like their little secret.
Jess sat in his room on the third morning after the funeral, contemplating this very thing. It was early, too early to meet up with her yet, but he had been unable to sleep. 'God Mariano,' he thought shaking his head, 'You have got to snap out of it. She's out of your reach.'
Just as he picked up his book again to read, he heard a tap on his window. Before he even turned, he knew it was her. She was the only one he knew that entered and exited via his fire escape. It was quick becoming an inside joke.
"Hey Rory," he said pushing his window open. "What are you doing awake at this ungodly hour?"
"It's the seventh day," she said climbing anxiously inside.
"The seventh day is the day of rest," he said sarcastically. "Again I ask."
"It's the seventh day since she started treatment," she revised, already used to his witticisms.
As she sat down on his bed, Jess knew that she had been counting the hours. He doubted by the worry lines around her eyes if she had even slept much the night before. "Are you going to call?" he asked her coming to sit across from her.
Rory shook her head, her eyes darting all over the room as if she couldn't quiet her mind. "She told me before I left that she'd call me at noon her time today. It's six o' clock here, so that means that it's eleven o' clock there, which means that I have one more hour." She was talking quickly, her voice shaking slightly with emotion.
"So what are you doing here?" he asked her. "I mean, you know that seeing you always puts me in a chipper mood, but shouldn't you be home waiting for her call?"
"I couldn't just sit there and wait," she said toying with the hem of her shirt. "I've been up for three hours already, and I think I would go crazy cramped up in that apartment."
"You've been up since three?" he asked amazed. "How many cups have you had?"
"None, I just couldn't sleep," she sighed, her voice calming down.
"I understand," he said. Then he had a thought. "Crap, you can't stay here. My mom and her boyfriend are in the next room, and I really don't want to find out what they'd do if they found you here."
"Oh," Rory said, a little disappointment evident in her voice as she stood up. "I guess I'll just walk around for a little while."
"I'm coming with you," Jess said pulling himself up as well. "We haven't even gotten our daily cup of coffee."
"Thanks," she smiled gratefully. "That sounds good."
Sitting at their booth in the back of the coffeehouse, Rory sat staring into her drink. Jess watched her, trying to think of something to say to make her relax, but he knew that there wasn't. She had been waiting for this ever since she'd gotten in town. This was her mother, the person she cared about most in the entire world. Jess knew there was nothing in the world anyone could say to ease the tension in her entire being right then.
"So tell me about your mom," he said finally. He figured that a little happy nostalgia might do some good.
"What do you want to know?" Rory looked up at him, a little surprised by the question.
"Anything," Jess replied shrugging his shoulders, "everything. Is she like you?"
"Yeah," she said, a little smile on her lips. "She used to call me 'Mini Me.' Since she isn't incredibly older than I am, we've always had the same kind of interests, besides my obsession for books. We like the same movies, music, TV shows. I inherited her coffee addiction, obviously, and her sweet tooth. But she was always better at the whole clothes/makeup/hair thing. I've never had the whole guy thing under control."
"I never would have guessed," Jess said, a little perplexed. He had thought that she had it all under control. Hell, she could probably have him under control if she tried.
Realizing what she had just said, she blushed suddenly, turning her gaze back to her coffee. "I never really cared much about it until a little less than a year ago when my boyfriend . . ." she stopped herself, ". . . I guess he's my ex-boyfriend now, but until he came along, I hadn't even thought seriously about guys. I was already thinking about Harvard and grades and Melville. I guess I haven't really had much practice on that front."
"That's cool," Jess said casually, noticing how embarrassed the subject made her. "I mean, that's not a bad thing."
"Yeah, I guess," she replied. She looked up at the clock. Six twenty. "Why is this going so slow?" she asked no one in particular.
"Because you're nervous," he told her. "You haven't talked to your mom in over a week, and now that it's almost here, you're nervous that it will be bad news." He took her shaking hands in his own and looked straight into her clear blue eyes. "But it's going to be okay," he assured her. "She'll call and tell you how everything is going, and you'll tell her about the bookstore and the coffeehouse. She'll rave about some little café she found that makes her coffee almost as amazing as back home, and then you'll laugh about how you think everyone in your town is doing without you. It'll be fine."
"Thanks," she smiled, her shoulders relaxing a little. Looking into his eyes, she could believe it. Hell, right then he could tell her that the sky was purple and she'd believe him. 'I have to stop looking at his eyes. I'll drown in them. I'm looking away now . . . any second . . . dammit, this isn't fair . . .'
"No problem," he said finally, breaking the spell as they both looked around for anything else to focus on.
After a long, comfortable silence, each sipping at his or her coffee, Rory looked up at the clock again. Six forty. 'Wow, that went faster,' she thought swallowing her last sip of coffee.
"We should get going," she said standing up. "I want to make sure I don't miss her."
"Let's go then," he replied standing up next to her.
Together, they stepped out onto the sidewalk, striding back towards Rory's apartment.