/just a short one for now, sorry. more soon. thanks for all the reviews, keeps me motivated!

Jess took Rory back to his apartment, arm around her shoulders. Rory was comforted by the firm warmth of Jess near her, but she couldn't bring herself to answer his restrained, only slightly probing questions. She was being to unfair to him, she knew – taking his sympathy without letting him know why she needed it in the first place. She worried that, if he did know, he would leave, or tell her to leave. He never had been good at handling a difficult situation, and this was one of the most difficult. He hated Dean; he would hate the idea of her and Dean together. But Rory needed him there, holding her up, close to her, so she didn't tell him anything, and she felt awful about it.

For Dean's part, though, her tears ended more quickly than she expected. She felt an abstract sense of relief. Now that the phone call she knew was coming was done, the worst was over. Of course, there were consequences down the line, consequences for Lindsay, for Dean, and probably for her, but she had done the right thing, even though it was hard. Lorelai had been right; she never should have gotten involved. How was she always right?

Entering the apartment, Jess made Rory a cup of coffee and they sat down on the couch in the lounge together. Jess sat cross-legged next to her, watching her with a concerned gaze.

'Aren't you going to have one?' Rory asked, indicating the coffee.

'What, and stay up until 2am? I don't have your immunity.'

'It's hereditary.

'Yeah, seems like it.'

'What are you doing tomorrow?' Rory asked, hoping to avoid more tears, and more discussion about tears. Really, in these past few days, she had cried far too much.

'Working.'

'Early?'

'Not really,' he said, brushing it off.

'What time?'

'6AM.'

'6! But it's already so late. Go to bed Jess, I'm fine, honestly.'

'You tired?'

'Not really, I'll just read for a bit out here.'

'It's alright, Rory, I want to stay up.'

But Jess had red eyes already, and was stifling yawns.

'Please, Jess. Go to bed. I'm fine, I promise.'

He hesitated, and then said, staring into the lino of the kitchen.

'Rory…' he started, 'you've gotta tell me what's happening. I love that you're here,' he looked up briefly and then his gaze dropped again, 'but I need to know why.'

'I know, Jess. I will tell you soon. Tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow?'

'Once you've slept. You won't like it, though,' she said quietly.

He shrugged:

'If it brought you here, how bad can it be?'

Rory said nothing. Jess stood up and then, again, hesitated.

'Rory, I––' Jess started, and then stopped.

'What is it, Jess?'

He looked at her.

'I'm not a good talker.'

'Neither am I. Well, at least not about this stuff. I'm a good rambler. I'm a champion rambler. In fact, my mother considers me her protégée in that respect. She taught me everything I know.'

'Rory,' he said softly.

'Sorry. Yes?'

There was a pause and the lounge was silent except for the slight hum of the refrigerator and, outside, the distant sirens of the city. Jess looked at her and said in a quiet, controlled voice.

'You know when we saw each other on the bus?'

Rory immediately knew what he meant; he was referring to the last time they had seen each other in Star's Hollow – when Jess had gone to California to see his father without telling her anything. She nodded, holding her breath.

'And I said nothing, told you nothing. Couldn't make myself tell you I was leaving.'

'Yes,' Rory said, her voice high and unsteady.

'Rory,' he said, his eyes glistening, 'I think about that everyday. What I should've said instead, how I needed to explain what I had to do. To make you understand – just to say something instead of just sitting there,' he sighed in frustration at himself and scratched his head. Rory thought in that moment that he looked more beautiful than she'd ever seen him.

'Not telling you, just leaving like that…', he started, before trailing off, appearing to gather his thoughts. After a few moments he said simply, flatly:

'It's the biggest regret of my life.'

Her breath caught in her throat. She felt like she had to say something, anything. It's okay. I forgive you. I've forgiven you in my head a hundred times already –and, just faintly in the background– I've done something even worse. She opened her mouth and closed it again.

'Sleep well, Rory.'

Finally, Rory found her tongue, and said uselessly:

'Night, Jess.'