Author's Note: Okay for the purpose of this story I'm going to make it so that the dorm room that Rory and Brooke now share has a small kitchen. Also, I'm writing Rorys' sickness the way my Aunt had it but for the specific stuff I'm kind of winging it, so don't shoot if it isn't right!

Full of Grace
Fallen

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Heaven bent to take my hand
And lead me through the fire
Be the long awaited answer
To a long and painful fight
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It was half past seven when Rory dragged herself out into the kitchen, her weary bones screaming out in protest. She went straight to the sink, quickly turning on the faucet and rinsing out her empty glass. With a soft groan, she tightly wrapped her fingers around the edge of a moist towel and brought it with her as she sank down to the floor. Rory set the glass down beside her as she brought her knees to her chest and pulled the front of the two sizes too big sweater that Brooke had given her the night before over her legs, trying to keep herself warm as chills swept through her body. She pressed the cloth to her forehead letting out a sigh of relief as the cool wetness of the cloth met her flushed skin.

She had been like this for hours. Her head throbbing, her breath coming in short gasps, her heart pounding so hard in her chest it was the only thing she could hear. But it wasn't anything knew to her, not really. She'd been like this for days, maybe even weeks. Some days she felt fine, maybe a slight chest pain or a headache but it was the others days she hated. Like that morning when she'd woken up in a blind panic while her lungs constricted painfully from lack of breath. She'd shot out of bed, grabbing onto the wall as her chest felt like it was being compressed with the weight of a full grown man.

Rory gathered all the strength she had in her exhausted body and moved over to the couch in the living room. She let herself sink down into the cosy pillows her eyes fluttering closed as sleep clouded her mind.

---

With blue eyes glassy from just waking up and her hair in disarray, Brooke shuffled out of her room. The January morning had frost covering the window panes and chills sweeping through the air. Brooke cuddled herself further into her fleece robe and padded across the living room, her chicken slippers flopping on her feet.

Brooke was just about to start a pot of coffee when her face scrunched up in a frown and she turned around, walking back over to the couch. Lying, curled up in a tight ball, was Rory and she was clutching a dish cloth in her hand. With a raised brow Brooke made her way over to Rory and knelt down beside the couch. The slight amusement she found in the situation disappeared when she noticed the ghostly pale colour of Rory's skin. With more worry then she thought possible Brookes' hands quickly shot out, one flat against her forehead and the other going to her chest. Rory's heartbeat was rapid under her hand and her skin hot and clammy.

"Oh God!" Brooke whispered as she rushed back into her room and grabbed her comforter off her bed.

On a whim she picked up her cell phone off of her dresser. Brooke layered the blanket over Rory's form, watching her sister bury herself deeper into the couch. Quickly, Brooke dialled the number of her mothers' cell phone, waiting impatiently for Lorelai to pick up.

"You're an evil child!" Lorelai's voice carried over the phone. "Why do you hate mommy so much as to wake her up at 9:30 in the morning?"

"I don't know what to do," Brooke told her mom, her voice dropping a few octaves as she stared at Rory with concern.

"Well first you're going to have to start by giving me more then that," Lorelai told her daughter, not recognizing the desperate tone in which she was talking.

Brooke felt her heart start to beat faster as she worked herself into a frenzy. "I shouldn't have called you…I mean I'm in college now and I'm supposed to be independent. But I don't know what to do…she's just so…pale..."

On the other end of the line Lorelai opened her eyes that she'd let drift closed and she gripped the phone harder. "Who's pale, Brooke?" she asked, her motherly instincts immediately kicking in as she thought worst case scenarios.

"It's Rory," she told her simply, her voice no more than a whisper. With the timid innocence of a small girl Brooke reached her hand out, letting only the tips of her fingers brush across Rory's cheek, not wanting to wake her from her sleep. "I…she's…sick, or something."

Lorelai pushed herself out of her bed and flung her robe on, while she made her way downstairs. She could tell from the whimper in her daughters' voice that whatever was wrong it was serious.

"Sick how Brooke?" Lorelai asked, turning the coffee maker on as she felt her own concern start to flood her veins. Rory was an amazing kid. She'd been given a hard life and made a lot of bad choices along the way, but she just kept getting stronger throughout everything. Lorelai couldn't help but think about her like she was a younger version of herself, like she was her second daughter.

Brooke sighed and drew her hand back, running it through her hair as she tried to calm herself down. "Umm…her head's burning…she's sweating but…I'm pretty sure she's freezing."

Lorelai sat herself down at the kitchen table, staring into her mug. "Sounds like she's got a fever, hon," she explained. "Is she sleeping?"

"Yeah…but," Brooke paused, watching as Rory jerked in her sleep, her forehead wrinkling with a frown.

"But what?" Lorelai asked, her voice gaining that worried tone only mothers have. "Brooke?"

"Sorry. She's on the couch, but she slept in Paris' old room last night, I know she did," Brooke told her pointedly.

"Okay, honey, it's okay," Lorelai tried to soothe her daughter over the phone. She quickly brainstormed a list of options in her mind, trying to find the best one. "Listen Brooke, you're going to have to take her temperature."

Brooke nodded even though she knew Lorelai couldn't see her. She stood up and walked over to the bathroom, riffling though the medicine cabinet as she searched for a thermometer.

"We don't have one!"

"How can you not have a thermometer?" Lorelai asked her tone scolding and a frown gracing her face.

"I don't know! But we don't!" Brooke told her. She went to close the cabinet door but it knocked out a small box that crashed into the sink, spilling band-aids, creams and tape everywhere. Brooke groaned but laid the phone down on the counter as she cleaned the mess up. She was about to stuff it all back into the first aid box when a small, plastic bag caught her attention.

"Ooh!" she exclaimed and held it up in triumph. "I found one!" she cried while grabbing the phone and rushing out into living room.

Lorelai, who had walked out of the kitchen while Rory was talking, looked down at the blinking red light on the answering machine. In no hurry at all she pushed the button and listened to the one message. But by the time it was over she was quickly rushing up the stairs and into her bedroom. Lorelai threw together an outfit in the smallest time possible and then grabbed the phone, which she'd tossed onto the bed when she got into her room.

"Brooke, honey, listen I've got to go!" she exclaimed, threading her fingers threw her hair and then running back down the stairs.

"What? Why?" Brooke asked, pulling back the thermometer from Rory's forehead. "What am I suppose to do?"

Lorelai grabbed a travel mug and poured in the now done coffee. "Somehow we're overbooked at the Inn and because I have the best luck in the whole world it's also the week when four of the kitchen staff are on holidays!" she explained sarcastically, squirming until her pumps slipped onto her feet. "Listen, babe, I'm sorry…just let her sleep okay. Talk to her when she wakes up," Lorelai instructed.

"Thanks, mom," Brooke answered before ending the call on her cell phone and placing it on the table. She returned her gaze to Rory and smiled sadly as she watched her shift uncomfortably on the couch. With a sigh she looked back down at the thermometer in her hand, the pink highlighted portion slowly fading into black.

Brooke didn't know much about health or medicine or anything like that, but she knew having a fever of a hundred and four was never good.

---

Rory finally woke up again around quarter to twelve. Her form all twisted up in Brookes' comforter, her face pressed into the back of the couch. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, feeling like she swallowed a whole handful of cotton balls. With a sigh she brought her hand up to her head, clutching at the crown of her skull and closing her eyes at the still present throbbing.

"Ugh…" she let out, gathering all her strength and pushing herself up into a sitting position. She let her gaze sweep over the room, surprise coming into her eyes when she saw Brooke lying with her head on the end of the couch, sleeping peacefully. "Brooke?"

Rory shuffled down the couch and lay down on her stomach so that her head was right next to Brookes'. Rory brought her other hand up to eye level, the dish cloth still gripped tightly in her fist. She slowly let it go, her hand damp and moist from either the cloth or sweat, she wasn't sure.

"You're up," Brooke stated, making Rory jump slightly.

Rory turned onto her side letting her eyes meet Brookes' and she smiled slightly. "You to," she answered, she could read the concern in Brookes' open blue gaze and she knew without a doubt what was coming.

Brooke pushed herself up onto her knees and then grabbing hold of the side of the couch she stood upright. With a sigh of discomfort, Brooke brought her hand up to the side of her neck, feeling the tension settling into muscles.

"You feeling okay?" she asked Rory over her shoulder, finally making the coffee she'd planned on that morning.

Rory shook her head slightly and sat up on the couch, pulling her legs underneath her and bringing the comforter up to her shoulders.

"I'm fine," she lied even though she knew Brooke wouldn't believe her.

"That's funny," Brooke commented and turned back around, walking over to the back of the couch. "When I'm fine I don't have a fever of a hundred and four."

Rory averted her gaze from Brookes' searching eyes, knowing she wouldn't be able to hide anything from her right now.

"Listen, Brooke, I know you're just worried about me but I'm fine." She tried to sound convincing but even to her own ears her voice was weak and hoarse.

Brooke sighed and walked around the couch, sitting down next Rory. She brought her hand up to Rory's forehead, her skin still flushed and hot.

"Rory, you're not fine, okay? You're sick," she explained, resting her other hand on top of Rory's, soothingly running the pad of her thumb across Rory's knuckles.

"It's no big deal Brooke," Rory promised her even as she remembered when she'd woken up that morning not being able to get any breath into her lungs. "It'll go away, it always does," she muttered under her breath but Brooke heard her and narrowed her eyes in confusion.

"What do you mean, 'it always does'?" she asked, her voice rising slightly.

Rory closed her eyes and let herself fall back against the couch, her chest aching. She could feel the sting of tears against the back of her eyes; every time she breathed she could feel the prickling sensation in her lungs like hundreds of pins poking her at the same time.

"It's just…this isn't the first time I've been I've been like this," she told her quietly, resting her free hand over top of ribcage, trying to relieve some of the pressure. "But don't worry," she added when she let Brookes' worried gaze, "it'll pass."

"What's wrong?" Brooke asked Rory with all the innocence of a little kid facing the world alone.

"It's nothing," Rory said, stressing the last word as she pushed herself up onto her feet, ignoring the head rush she gave herself.

"Stop saying that!" Brooke suddenly exploded; standing up from the couch to and watching Rory whirl around in shock. "Stop patronizing me! I know something's wrong Rory!" she exclaimed and felt herself deflate in front of Rory. "Just tell me," she pleaded.

Rory stood stock still for a moment before she felt her feet taking a couple of steps closer to Brooke on their own accord. She looked down at their feet for a second, her lips twitching into a smile at Brookes' slippers but that quickly faded. She brought her eyes back to Brookes' and felt a single tear slip down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she whispered ever so softly, apologizing for what she didn't know but Brooke seemed to understand as she soon felt her arms come around her. "I'm sorry," she said again, this time burying her head in Brookes' shoulder.

"Just tell me what's wrong," Brooke asked in a voice no louder then a whisper.

Rory pulled back from Brooke and shyly pushed her hair behind her ears. She slowly made eye contact but then turned around, stepping up onto the couch and sitting down with her legs crossed. Rory patted the spot next to her and watched out of the corner of her eye as Brookes' lips turned upwards into a smile and she made herself comfortable on the couch to.

"I got sick a little while ago," Rory started staring straight ahead of her as she spoke. "Nothing serious, just a cold," she said as she reached down and pulled up the blanket that had fallen onto the floor. "I didn't have anything to get rid of it with, no medicine or anything, so it lasted a while longer but then it went away."

Brooke shifted herself closer to Rory, smiling gratefully as Rory shared the comforter with her. She couldn't help but think of how small Rory looked at that moment, how young. The huge blue comforter almost dwarfing her size, along with the gigantic Yale sweatshirt that hid her hands from view. It almost scared Brooke how innocent Rory could be sometimes.

"But lately…" Rory trailed off, waiting silently until Brooke seemed to come out of whatever thought she was lost in. Rory was somewhat grateful for the slight pause, as she was able to gather her thoughts and feelings, trying to make more sense of what she wanted to say. "Lately, I don't know if it's coming back or if I'm getting another cold…"

"But you've been getting fevers?" Brooke asked, gesturing at the thermometer lying innocently on the coffee table in front of them.

Rory nodded, her hair falling in front of her face like a shield almost, hiding her from Brooke's inquisitive gaze. But she knew that she couldn't hide from this conversation, at least not anymore and so she brought her hand up and pushed her hair back, turning her head to see Brooke again.

"It's not just fevers though," she admitted, watching curiosity and worry flare up in her half-sister at the same time. "Sometimes I just can't get any breath into me at all…or my chest will feel pressured."

"Rory, why didn't you tell me?" Brooke asked, connecting together all the dots in her head and hearing faint alarm bells going off.

"Because it's nothing serious, Brooke," Rory told her, seeming to suddenly close off and put up her defensive shield. "It's just another cold I got because I haven't been taking care of myself like I should have been. It'll go away."

Brooke leaned forward slightly, seeing the determined glint in Rorys' eyes and she resolved herself to a slight nod of her head, knowing there was no way she could get through to Rory all by herself.

She would need backup.

---

Finn waited outside Rory's door with childlike eagerness. The feeling swept through his body, this kind of adrenaline that reached from his toes to his fingers. He could only describe it as when he was a little kid, laying in his warm bed on Christmas morning and waiting until he could go downstairs.

He couldn't understand how this one girl had become so important to him and so amazing in his eyes. Normally around girls he would just spend extravagant amounts of money on them, spoiling them thoroughly. But with Rory he knew that wouldn't work and for some reason unbeknownst to him he didn't want her like that.

Finn was torn out of his thoughts when the door flew open and the girl he'd been thinking of ever since the night before was standing in front of him. The wide smile that had adorned his face all morning and the previous evening faltered slightly in her presence. Not that she wasn't beautiful. In fact she looked like a princess in her purple mesh skirt with lace accents and white and gold t-shirt. But it was the pallid colour of her skin and the missing twinkle in her eyes that jumped out at him.

"Hey," Rory greeted him, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She shifted from one foot to the other, digging her bare toes into the carpet as she felt his eyes sweep over her figure once before settling on her face.

"Hello, love," he answered, tilting his head to the side, trying to meet her eyes again but it was almost as if Rory knew he would be able to read exactly what she was feeling and so she averted her gaze.

"So what did you want to do?" Rory asked, tightening her grip on the door as she felt her head suddenly become almost as light as a balloon.

Finn raised an eyebrow as he saw her arm tense all the way up to her shoulder and her eyes clench shut for a brief second. He couldn't help the worry and concern that started to slowly flood his body.

"Why don't we just stay in?" he asked, trying to sound casual and not missing the small smile of relief that flitted across Rory's face.

"Okay, good," Rory exclaimed and went to turn around and lead him into the room even as her mind screamed at her that it wasn't a good idea.

Seems her mind was right and just as she saw the world start to fall away from her Rory felt two strong arms curl around her waist, holding her up against a hard chest. Rory closed her eyes tightly, letting her body relax into Finn's and welcoming the somewhat familiar embrace.

Finn tightened his arms around her small frame for a minute before he moved one and bent down, curling it under her knees and picking her up in one flourish motion. Finn walked into the room, closing the door with his foot, and then carried her over to the bedroom on the far left, knowing that it had been Paris' before. He was just about to lay her down on the bed when he felt her small arms wrap themselves around his neck, her nimble fingers slipping into his mess of brown hair.

"Rory, sweetheart, I gotta put you down now," Finn whispered into her ear, feeling her body shudder against his.

Rory nodded and untangled her hands from his hair, letting him lower her into her bed. Rory watched as he lifted her feet up and pulled the blanket out from under them before laying it on top of her, tucking her in like you would a little kid. She narrowed her eyes on him, wondering how it was possible that he could be so sweet. It confused her more then she thought possible at how she responded to him. Her whole life she'd prided herself on how strong she was, how independent. And yet here she was, all weak and kitteny around him because she was sick. But even as she thought about it she still wanted him to take care of her, wanted him to make her feel better, make her feel special like he had the day before. He made her feel like a princess…and she certainly wasn't used to liking that.

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Though I've tried, I've fallen
I have sunk so low
I've messed up better,
I should know
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