Finished with her task at the mirror, she turned back to him, her fingers clutching at the collar of his jacket as she wrapped it around herself. She smiled, saying, "Better?" with a little humour.
Jess shrugged, smirking a little. "I was kinda digging the Goth look." She rolled her eyes at him, smiling a little wider, and sat on the bed facing him. He leant his back against the wall next to the mirror, watching her.
He was waiting to see if she would explain what had happened of her own free will, but it was turning out that she wasn't going to do that. He had been in this room for almost half an hour, and she hadn't volunteered anything. If he was still his teenage self, he would be fine with this, knowing fine well what had happened anyway. Because he did. He'd heard it in the tone of her voice as she cried to him down the phone, herself in Baltimore, and himself some two hours away (of legal speed limit driving) in Philadelphia. The strong, independent Rory Gilmore, so akin to her mother, to have that tone, something more than just a few fingerprint bruises had to have happened. She wouldn't just punch someone for nothing either.
Remembering these two details, Jess visually searched the girl before him, finding only bruised knuckles. The sleeves of her pyjamas were long, so he couldn't see her forearms, where the other bruises probably resided. The knuckles looked sore enough. They probably needed ice, really. He hadn't seen an ice machine on the way up to her room, so maybe the hotel didn't have one.
Looking down at her hands made Rory look down at them, too. She flexed her fingers of her right hand and grimaced. "It's fine."
Jess looked at her with wide eyes, simply stating, "Okay."
Rory looked nervously at the floor for a moment. "I'm sorry, Jess."
Jess continued watching her with interest for several moments, before he replied, "What for?"
Rory let out a humourless laugh, gesturing around the room vaguely. "For dragging you out of bed in the middle of the night to drive two hours in the dark to this crappy hotel in Maryland to see your ex-girlfriend." Then, pausing, laughed humourlessly again. "And for a whole load of stuff before that."
Jess shook his head, ducking his head to try at catch her gaze, but he failed in his attempt. "Don't be sorry, Rory. I offered to come. I wanted to. I wanted to see that you were okay." She looked up at him with glassy eyes. He felt his heart sigh a little in pain at her expression, but instead of letting this show, he smiled at her encouragingly.
"I'm sorry for … what happened, the last time," she persisted awkwardly, fighting to keep eye contact with him. Jess stopped smiling, and sighed. "All that's over now," she continued. Jess already knew about Logan and his proposal and Rory's refusal. Luke had told him just after it happened.
"Ror'," he protested. "I'm not here to hear apologies or even to hear about what happened with you and that jackass." Rory flinched at that, but he continued. "Although, I'm glad about the fact that you two are over. I won't bother hiding that. He wasn't good enough for you by a long shot. He treated you like you could be bought, and that he had." Jess' voice was a touch angry, so he took a breath to calm down. "You weren't you with him, and that was agonising to see."
Rory watched him for a moment, and obviously chose not to reply. She pulled Jess' jacket closer around her and reached for the vodka, unscrewed the cap and drank from the bottle. Jess couldn't control his face twisting slightly at the sight, and Rory fixed him with a bitter stare after flinching at the taste. He sighed, leaning toward her slightly with his hand out, asking silently for the vodka. She placed it in his hand a little too roughly, and smiling wryly, Jess took a swig himself.
"Sorry," he told her as an afterthought. "I guess that whole thing is still a sore subject." Rory raised her downcast eyes to his, and he tried to smile. Instead, he shrugged. He took another gulp of the spirit, not even wincing as it burned down his throat. He let silence take them over for a second, wondering whether she would talk about what brought him here ever. He'd alluded, now, and she was still avoiding the topic. He couldn't blame her, of course. He decided that he wanted to know, either way, whether they were going to talk about it, though. "Ror'? Are we going to talk about …?" he asked vaguely, fixing her with a questioning look. Rory looked up at him again, before slowly shaking her head 'no'. "And what about your job?" he asked, pressing.
She dry-sobbed, raising her hands in an emphasised sarcastic shrug. "I have no idea."
Jess didn't like her looking so conflicted. He handed her back the bottle, before sitting gently on the bed beside her. "If you got back on the bus, what then?" Rory shrugged again, more dejectedly this time. "Do you think he would … try anything … again?" he struggled. Rory cast him a worried sidelong glance, before shutting her eyes, hugging herself again. Two tear drops squeezed their way out from beneath her eyelashes. He felt helpless. She swiped at her eyes, catching the tears with embarrassment.
"I have to quit," she stated, her voice wobbling. Jess nodded thoughtfully, thankful that she'd come to this conclusion.
"I'll take you home tomorrow, if you want," he offered.
"Jess, you don't have to -" Rory tried, but Jess cut her off.
"I'll take you, don't worry about it. My car's more reliable these days. Far better than the junk that I was driving you around in at eighteen." Rory smiled a little at this, and in thanks. "Where is home at the moment, anyway?" he asked with interest. Rory worried her bottom lip with her teeth, making the flesh dark pink. He followed her progress with his eyes in fascination, but looked back up to her eyes as she spoke.
"Technically, the bus," she sighed."Other than that, Stars Hollow."
Jess nodded. "I guess it'll give me a chance to catch up with my dear family," he smirked.
Rory shook her head. "Luke's with my Mom and April on their boating trip," she told him.
Jess raised his eyebrows in surprise, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm awkwardly. "I was wondering why you called me."
Rory muttered, crossing and uncrossing her legs without looking at him, "That wasn't the only reason."
"No?" Jess persisted. He watched her as she shifted nervously, not daring to look up at him.
"My Mom would have overreacted and called the police. Or she would have told Luke, who would have called the police. Or worse, she would have called my Dad and he would have called in the National Guard."
"All justified reactions, Rory," he told her sternly.
"Nothing happened, Jess. I promise." She looked up at him with sincerity in her eyes, and where Jess felt like he should trust her, part of him wanted to overreact. The same part of him that wanted to call the police, too. The same part of him that wanted to tear this guy limb from limb for even scaring this girl. The same part of him that wanted to take her back to Stars Hollow and lock her up safe in her childhood bedroom so nothing bad could ever happen to her again.
Of course, he had happened to her when she was safe in Stars Hollow. Maybe his plan had a few holes.
"Also, I just … wanted to talk to you. You always had a way of rationalising my thoughts for me."
Jess let out a surprised, "Huh," before saying, "And here I always thought that was your pro/con lists."
"Those too," she grinned. "You were just … calmer. Everyone else in Stars Hollow was a little ..."
"Insane?" Jess supplied.
"No," Rory protested with a smile. "More … frantic. You were just … serene."
Jess let out a bark of laughter. "You're serious?"
"As a heart attack," she smirked. "Until you left, you were a very soothing person to me."
"I never knew that," he told her honestly. Anyone finding comfort in him was, frankly, to Jess, a shock.
"You internalised all the stuff that was going on, I guess."
Jess laughed without humour, drinking from the bottle again, before handing the bottle back to her. He agreed with this statement wholeheartedly. It had been a necessity for most of his life, before he was sent unceremoniously to Stars Hollow, and all of a sudden, there were these two people who cared about him – the girl wrapped in his jacket before him, and his Uncle who he'd seen once a year, if that, considering Luke hated New York, and Liz hated Stars Hollow (although apparently she got over that one). It had been a strange experience for him to be cared about so fervently, especially by Rory. Never before had someone so pure care about him. And then she appeared, purest being he had ever encountered, and she gave a damn.
Of course he screwed it up. What else could he have done?
Rory had been watching him, he noticed, as he had thought about this. She seemed to know what he had been thinking, because she placed the bottle of vodka down on the night stand, and shrugged his jacket off her shoulders so that the heavy fabric landed on the bed with a thud. She shuffled over to him with an unreadable expression. He sat still, watching her, interested in what she was going to do.
She steadied herself by placing her hands on his arms, and leant up to place a small, innocent kiss on his cheek, millimetres from his mouth.
Jess' heart spluttered, but he kept his expression unreadable. She smiled as if she knew.
"Of course," she continued, still close to him, holding his arms, "That mere fact – that you internalised everything – drove me to near-madness. So maybe not quite so calming."
"Sorry," he said, allowing his eyes to search her face. He wasn't completely sure what he was looking for. She watched him do this, before reaching out, and wrapping her arms around him again.
This time, she only felt hot against him.
Jess fought to keep his thoughts above the tide, as they were rushing like water through him, the threat of drowning very real. He almost gasped for breath.
He still loved her.
Fuck.
Was he ever, ever going to be over her?
He answered his own question as silently as he'd asked it, and shut his eyes as the water poured over him.
After a moment, Jess found it within himself to speak. "You should get some sleep, Ror'," he mumbled into her shoulder. In response, she held on to him a little tighter, and buried her nose into his sweater.
"You still smell the same," she commented, muffled by his shoulder.
Jess chuckled a little in derision. "That's probably because I smoked a pack of cigarettes on the way here to calm me the hell down. My first relapse in a year."
"You quit?" she asked, turning into his neck. He hummed a 'yes'. She laughed, Jess supposed, in surprise, and hugged him a little tighter. "I'm glad you decided not to die young."
"I wouldn't go that far," Jess muttered, but smiled anyway at her positive reaction.
"Sorry for causing the relapse," she added.
"No problem," he murmured against her shoulder, hugging her tighter himself, this time. Rory sighed in what seemed to be an appreciative way. He could bring himself to pull away, even though he knew he should.
He's drowning.
"You should sleep," he repeated, and Rory sighed.
"I don't want to. You're here," she whined. He could tell the alcohol was starting to affect her. She was getting more and more like her mother.
"I'll be here when you wake up," he told her honestly.
She laughed sarcastically. "Yeah, I've believed that before."
Jess stilled at her comment, before pulling back, away from her. She protested, but Jess stood up, taking his jacket with him, making his way to the uncomfortable-looking grey couch across from the bed in the small room, frowning lightly.
"Jess," she said sadly, obviously regretting her words. But Jess knew she'd meant them. And if truth be told, she was completely justified in feeling bitter about it. He had, in teenage madness, upped and left without telling her, quite possibly breaking her heart in the process. Most definitely breaking his in the process. He had done that. He couldn't blame her for not trusting him. Of course, a lot had happened since then. Maybe it was too deluded of him to hope that at least a small part of that had been forgiven, given their last meeting. He'd forgiven her.
"I'll be here when you wake up," he said shortly, not looking at her as he settled in a slumped position on the couch, covering himself with his jacket and closing his eyes tight, trying to forget how broken he'd felt all those years ago, staring out at the Pacific ocean and hating it, because he had destroyed everything, and thrown away everything that had ever mattered to him to stare at it.
-break-
Jess didn't sleep. Not only was the couch uncomfortable, but his mind wouldn't shut up thinking about the past. He was just frustrated, and lay along the couch with his hands over his face.
Rory slept, much to Jess' relief. She would have been able to tell what he was thinking had she been awake. Rory always had a horrible knack for that. Jess had always been half-thankful (because he didn't have to verbally express all of what he was thinking) and half-terrified (because he didn't have to verbally express all of what he was thinking) of that particular supernatural ability of hers.
He looked over to her in the near-dark, weak sunlight straining slightly though the heavy curtains. She looked troubled in her sleep, but still completely perfect. Jess sighed at his own thoughts.
He felt like an idiot. He had travelled from his home in Philadelphia, from his job in Philadelphia (which he would be missing, considering he was now taking Rory home, and he felt guilty because he didn't feel even a little bit guilty about leaving his friends and workmates in the lurch). He had left in the dead of night on some kind of rescue mission. Like it was going to change anything. Like his past history would be rewritten just because he drove across state lines in an anaemic attempt at saving her. Who was he kidding? Who was he fucking kidding?
Look at her.
Jess cursed himself again, mashing his palms against his eyes, and dragging his hands up into his hair to pull.
What made him sick was that she had changed. He wasn't even in love with this Rory. It was that he was still in love with Rory from years ago, and feeling that with her in the room – this version of her - it was more painful than anything Jess had ever felt. He felt cheated. He felt sick, and cheated. He wanted to erase everything that had happened to her since her left. He wanted to start over.
He wondered if she felt like that, too. Whether seeing him, in this healthier, less destructive state, was painful for her. Like she thought that if he were this person, maybe she would never have loved him (if she'd loved him, then. That had never been confirmed) when they were seventeen.
Maybe, none of that would have mattered. Maybe. Maybe they just fit. They did fit. Even now. They had lived the same lives, Rory and Jess. They had ran away from Mechanical Hounds together. They had taken soma with their fellow Alpha-Plussmen together. They had waited for Daisy. They had lead the Liberal Rebels. They had missed Temple's train. They had awoken in the morning to be arrested for no reason. They had slit their wrists and jumped from a second storey window. They had visited with the Uprighters and the Slouchers. They'd taken part in the psychedelic movement with The Merry Pranksters.
Rory and Jess had shared a thousand lives. They still fit – through everything they'd both done to the other, there was nothing that compared to knowing someone that intimately, to have felt the pangs and pulls and elations that came from reading the same literature. That came from listening to the same music, understanding the same lyrics. That came from loving the same movies. Nothing could compare to that. Nothing ever had for Jess.
"Jess?"
He jumped, half sitting up from the hideous couch which was making his back ache, to look over at her in the half-light. "Hi," he said awkwardly, trying to shake what he'd been thinking about from the fringes of his brain.
"Hi," she replied quietly, softly. Sleep was still on her face, her ardent eyes heavy-lidded and reticent. She was quiet, searching his face for a moment, before whispering, "Could you … would you mind coming over here?" Jess hesitated, watching her as her eyes widened, becoming more embarrassed with every second. His heart ached, and he sighed in resignation.
Maybe his hesitation had been a feeble attempt at self-preservation. He sure had let that go quickly. After all, it was Rory Gilmore. Jess' Kryptonite. His Achilles' Heel. His silver bullet.
He made his way to the bed, and Rory's eyes brightened as she shuffled backwards, pulling back the sheets to allow him to slip into the bed beside her. He dragged a hand through his hair before he lay down, desperately wanting a cigarette.
Rory was facing him, but he remained on his back, daring not to even look at her. She wrapped him in the blankets silently, before settling against his ribcage, her arms around his middle.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled into his chest, looking up at him with apprehensive eyes.
He knew what she was talking about – her last words to him the night before. He shrugged, allowing his fingers to stroke her side a little. "Don't apologise to me, Ror'," he told her, his voice gentle.
She bit her lip, her teeth tugging at the imbued flesh. Jess' gaze lingered a little too long, and Rory noticed. She watched him for a moment longer, and Jess watched as a decision formed behind her eyes. She reached up with her fingertips and brush them through the hair which framed his face, behind his right ear, and down his neck. Her eyes watched her hand's progress, before watching his eyes again.
Jess was struggling. He was battling. Getting in this bed was a mistake. God, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted her. God. God.
"Rory," he said, his voice breaking in want and fear. Hearing this in his voice, Rory smiled a sad smile, before laying her head on his chest again. He pulled her closer to him, and sighed – partially in relief, partially, he didn't know.
"I've missed you, Jess. You believe that, don't you?" she asked.
Jess contemplated her question. He had missed her, certainly. He wasn't sure whether she gave him a second thought in the years since the incident in Philadelphia. That was a discussion for another day. "We'll think about leaving in about an hour, okay?" he said, closing his eyes.
Rory stayed silent, and Jess sighed internally in relief.
-break-
A/N – I struggled though this, honestly. I still have no idea where this story will end up. Okay, I have a vague, impalpable idea. It's super frustrating to write, anyway. Nevertheless, hope you enjoyed it so far. Let me know if you want me to continue. Or even if you want me to stop complaining about how little the inspiration is hitting me these days.
Bonus points if you can name all the literature I referenced in that little monologue of Jess'. I think there were nine. No Google-ing. I felt like Jess would think along the same lines as Rory's High School graduation speech for that part.
Please review.
Eutony x
