Jess chuckles, shaking his head.

"There's few things I'd pay to see, but Rory Gilmore meeting Christianne Amanpour in her pajamas is one of them."

"Stop!" She scolds, playfully swatting at his arm, turning ever so slightly to face him as they walk. "I wasn't that much of a spaz."

"If you say so," Jess says with a shrug, the smallest of smiles gracing his lips. It did make him happy to know that she'd finally met her idol, but the smallest of pains tugged at his heart, knowing that this was only one of many semi-major events in her life he'd pushed himself out of.

"Don't you have any wild stories?" She asks suddenly, nudging him. He'd gone quiet, deep in thought. "I mean, you work at a publishing house. You must have some."

A smirk tugs at his lips.

"Chris accidentally mugged Ta-Nehisi Coates," he offers.

"Stop. How does that even happen?" Rory asks, laughing.

He begins to relay the story, but Rory finds herself not listening and instead watching him talk, watching him move. This person who grew up in her absence, who didn't lose any part of his teenaged self but simply refined him, matured him. She still sees the seventeen year old who flirted with her shamelessly and debated books with her, the eighteen year old who had Yahoo'd 22.8 miles between them, who'd left before he'd let himself fall in love with her. It is in watching the animated way he responds to her, engaged but contained, charismatic but lazy, that Rory feels a piece of herself shift. It is in listening to his laughter that she realizes how silent her life has been without it.

"Rory?"

She snaps out of it, and when she looks at him again, he looks concerned.

"Sorry, I just…" Just what? She isn't sure what she wants to say, how much she wants to reveal. Did she even have a right to tell him what she was feeling, after all they'd been through? After all she'd been through with Logan? God, Logan.

"Just…?" Jess ducks his head, forcing her to make eye contact with him again. She looks like she's been sucker punched, and he quickly discerns that something is going on inside of her that has nothing to do with his anecdote.

Instead of answering him, Rory hugs her arms to her chest and looks behind them, where the Dragonfly is now in sight, a billowing beam of all that awaits her.

They'd taken their time getting there, and now that the weights of what she's done and what she has to do are looming over her, Rory suddenly feels overwhelmed. Overwhelmed that she has to have this conversation with Logan, with the entire town. With his stupid family who will only use this as fire to fuel their class-based disapproval of her.

Rory looks back at Jess and feels the tears coming. This, too, is overwhelming; Jess, his presence. And overwhelmed that once she leaves him, that will be it. And for some reason, perhaps because she has felt transported into her teenaged self in the last hour of conversation, the panic that has always been synonymous with loving Jess and not knowing whether she was enough to keep him rushes her like a football player, knocking the wind out of her.

What a terrible person she was, crying over something she had orchestrated, leaning into the warmth and strength of somebody she'd loved, lost, and pushed out the door once he'd come back to her. She had no right to Jess, no claim, yet being in his presence was stirring up something potent. It wasn't just what she had to go do; it was that, once she left him, he would go again. He would leave and ghost, as he did every time, and she would be left to pick up the mess alone, without his guidance.

Feelings of lack bubble up inside of Rory. Not enough to have kept Jess and maybe, just maybe, somewhere down the road never even having to be in this place she finds herself in. Not enough to keep Logan, who, for all of the wonderful things she's said about him and believes about him, still slips up, lets her find remnants of perfume she would never wear on his clothes. Not enough to stick it out and make a commitment to anyone. And Jess, with his eyes looking at her full so much love, so much concern, just sends her into a greater frenzy.

"Hey," he says gently, ignoring his earlier resolve yet again to stay away. He reaches up his hands and, using both of his thumbs, tenderly brushes the tears from the corners of her ocean blue eyes. His touch ignites her skin, sends rivers of fire up and down her body, nestling into places she forgot he had access to.

"You can do this, Rory," Jess assures her, as if reading her mind. Rory chokes back a sob and looks into his brown orbs, really looking at him. How he always seemed to know her so well, when she had no idea who she even was, would forever elude her.

"Jess, why are you still so nice to me?" She asks, taking a step back from his windshield wiper thumbs, shaking her head to forget the roughness of his skin, the heat that his touch brings her.

He cocks his eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Where do I remember this from?" He asks, a playfulness in his voice. Rory cocks her head before smiling, remembering.

"Jess?" She persists, looking at him through dark lashes. He sighs deeply, blowing out air through his mouth. He runs a hand through his hair before reaching into his pocket for a cigarette, a reflex. He scowls when he feels the soggy box, a casualty of the now-clearing storm. It was barely spitting outside anymore.

"Why are you even asking, Rory? Can't I just be there for you when you're upset?" He asks tiredly.

Why are you even asking, Rory? She doesn't know. She just feels lost and sad and scared, feels like she's not the person he thinks she is. And those overwhelming feels of lack and selfishness keep nipping at her like fire ants along her ankles.

"I don't deserve it," she explains, shaking her head. "What have I done to warrant any of your kindness tonight? Choose Dean over you? Logan over you? Lead you on to get back at Logan? What have I done in the last five years to even think I had the right to invite you to my wedding? Like, hey Jess, sorry that I kissed you when you clearly had unresolved feelings for me, won't you come to my wedding a few years later, please? I'm so selfish."

She isn't crying anymore, doesn't have the tears left, but her face is red with frustration and sadness, she's sure. He looks conflicted, and she can see him clenching his jaw, choking on words he isn't ready to share.

After what feels like a lifetime, and is really maybe only a handful of seconds, he turns away and then turns back to her, looking defeated, tired, and… something she can't quite put her finger on.

"You don't deserve it," he tells her. Wow, Jess – 1, Rory – 0, she thinks miserably to herself. Hearing it confirmed from him was like a blow to the stomach, even if she'd opened up her defenses to be hit.

"Then—"

"I'm not done," he cuts her off firmly, grinding his foot into the mud. She shuts up, waiting. Somewhere in the back of her mind's eye she notices the rain is picking up again, but she's too numb to really focus on that and is instead staring at his lips, begging him to continue.

"You don't deserve it, but you sure as hell didn't deserve the way I handled things. I told you before, it is what it is, you and me. We can't change the way we've treated each other and honestly, I've spent too much time beating myself up over walking out on you that this is the least I can do."

"Jess, you've more than made up for that," Rory insists, shaking her head.

"Have I?" He asks seriously, closing the distance between them. "I never even told you why I left, not all of it."

"You're always here when I need you, Jess. You weren't when we dated, and while I wish you had explained, since then you've stepped up to the plate. I can't thank you enough for all you've done, and I just can't understand why you keep showing up when I'm down in the count."

"Do I really need to spell it out?" Jess flares suddenly, clear frustration in his voice.

Coming was a bad idea. He says this over and over in his head, turning away from Rory and walking in a small circle. He feels called out like that day he outbid Bagboy for her basket, except this time, there was a history between them. There's a history of mistakes, unshared feelings, of leaving her before he got left. The feelings of loss were raging inside of him, threatening to burst out, and that wasn't what Rory needed. But God damn if she didn't know how to get a rise out of him.

He looks at her desperately and sees the understanding in her eyes. And truthfully, she doesn't need him to spell it out, he knows that. She just needs something to hold onto, something that she trusts. She's vulnerable, he tells himself, and hearing validation that she isn't a terrible human being is what she needs.

It winds him to think that his love for her - the love that has made him fail in relationships time after time, the love that he tries daily to bury and had, until that stupid wedding invitation, been quelling quite nicely – is what she is using to keep herself grounded. And it winds him too that, for once, this scenario is reversed.

Rory feels ashamed of herself, shaking her head. No, it wasn't fair of her to do this to him, to make him dig up old feelings for her so that she could feel less guilty about hers surfacing for him.

"No," she whispers, shaking her head, taking in a deep breath. She looks again at the Dragonfly, then back at Jess, and finally feels the raindrops on her. But it's only from watching his dark curls, which had begun to dry and frame his face, become plastered onto his forehead again, falling in his eyes.

"I'm always gonna be here, Rory," Jess tells her, looking at her through intense, dark eyes. "It's just how we work."

Rory purses her lips and feels tears escaping again. Before she can reply, there's another crack above them and she jumps. Like the superhero he always tends to be for her, Jess ushers her onward, remaining behind in the grass as she makes it onto the gravel, her heels sinking into the pebbles.

"Jess?" She calls, raising her voice above the rain.

"Go ahead, you'll be okay," he calls back, waving her onwards.

"But—"

"I'll be okay too," he assures her, offering her a smile.

He nods at her and turns away, heading back across the lawn because he knows that somewhere over there, his car is waiting for him. Feeling like he dodged a massive lump of Kryptonite, he closes his eyes, letting the rain crash over him.

Rory watches him leave and that panic sets in again. It felt like the very ground beneath her was spinning away from her, and then she's seventeen again, watching him lie to her about calling her later, watching the bus leave that she now knows will never bring him back. She moves on instinct, the way one recalls riding a bike even after years of staying off the pedals. She grips the back of his jacket and pulls him, crushing her body to his chest in an embrace.

He is surprised, and it takes him a moment but, just like in the tree, Jess lets nature take its course. He twists to face her and allows himself to be hugged, resting his head on top of hers, letting her burrow into his neck.

"Rory," Jess yells, trying to address her over the roar of the rain. How the hell did the storm cloud move on them so quickly? She mumbles something into his neck which he only feels by way of vibration, and he rests his cheek against hers, listening.

"Don't go, Jess," she repeats louder, realizing he can't hear her. He moves his face away from hers and shakes her gently, forcing her to look up at him.

He sees tears mixing with the rain, and he feels all the progress he's made, all the years working through his feelings for her, slip away from him like a guest who left without saying goodbye. It feels bitter, ironic, and freeing all at once to hear her asking him to stick around.

"Okay," he assures her, looking down into her eyes. Rory's eyes are frantic, looking back and forth, dipping deeper and deeper into his, searching for something. Maybe to see if he would really stay.

Rory determines in her hysteria that Jess isn't lying, that for once, he wouldn't take off into the night. This grounds her and gives her confidence for the first time all day. She nods at him and gives his arm a squeeze before grabbing the sides of her dress and running back the way she'd come.

She pauses for a second and turns back, letting her newfound confidence settle in the pit of her belly as she looks at him. The realness of why this day was so wrong, why this afternoon was so right, settles in on top of it, balancing like a ball.

"I guess deep down, I always thought it'd be you," she says finally, smiling. He can't hear this but he reads her lips. Swallowing the bitter pill he'd been holding under his tongue for months, ever since seeing the wedding invitation, he forces a smile. He feels this way, too. He'd never saw himself lasting with anyone until she'd come into his life; she had been his small glimmer of what a future could look like.

Jess watches her go, this runaway bride, and blows out a hot breath. He purses his lips, shakes his head, and takes off for his car.

Maybe this afternoon had shown him that ship hadn't hit an iceberg and sank. After all, she'd run to him and not Logan, hadn't she? She'd asked him not to leave, which could only mean she wasn't planning on spending the night with Logan, or any other night in the immediate future. And finally, in a well marinated meal, had served him something special, something he'd never thought he'd get from her again: the idea that somewhere she'd imagined a future with him, and somehow, in some way, that fantasy had stopped her from going through with this wedding.

Don't get your hopes up, his subconscious warns. And he knows this, but her words linger in his head.

Jess picks up speed, his only objective to get into his vehicle and blast some band that Luke would hate, hoping that the bass would be so loud that he couldn't hear his rusty heart churning with the beat of new life she'd just offered him.

Sorry if this is too mushy/a jump from the old chapters. The only ideas that came for this story involved a lot of feelings, and so..