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Jess had been the first to wake up, jolting up in bed, heartbeat causing the beeping monitor to go wild. His breathing came out in gasps and his hands quickly shot to his neck, feeling around to make sure the hands that had just been wrapped around it were not really there.

Luke woke up with a start soon after, sitting up straight in his seat and looking wide-eyed over at his panting nephew. The boy was covered in sweat, his hair soaked and sticking down against his forehead. He watched as the boy felt around his neck one more time, hands rubbing over the bruising marks frantically, reassuring himself that no hands were there and it all had been a dream.

"Jess?" Luke called.

A set of nurses quickly rushed in after hearing the monitor go wild and were swiftly at the boy's side, making sure not to touch him as they assured him that it had been a dream. His eyes traveled over to Luke and he suddenly felt completely embarrassed. No one was supposed to see him like this, and he hadn't known that his uncle was still in the room. He suspected the man would have gotten a hotel room or something to spend the rest of the night in instead of sleeping in that stiff chair.

Once he had calmed down enough that the monitor slowed its beeping, the nurses slowly made their way out, leaving Jess with his uncle and a warning that breakfast would be coming within the hour. He didn't feel like eating, and he hardly thought he'd have an appetite for a long time, especially after that dream. Liz had held him so tight, hands curled around his neck, just like the night before. But in his dream no police had come in and pried her off of him. There were no sirens, no rough gasps and coughs for air. He had been on the verge of death, her hands gripping his neck so tight that her nails were digging in and blood was dripping out...

"Are you alright, Jess?" Luke's question caused the boy to look over towards his uncle. The man looked so concerned, face showing that worry he knew he would find, that he had to look away. He hated getting looks like that; they always had a hint of pity in them, and he didn't need to see that. He didn't need anyones pity.

He ran a hand threw his soaked hair and responded, "Perfect," he looked back over towards his uncle, a little surprised that his voice still sounded raspy, but then he remembered that he had just been strangled less than six hours ago ... he had almost been killed by his mother only six hours ago. He briefly started wondering what had happened to Liz after she had been pried off him, but quickly pushed those thoughts away. Anything that had to do with his mother made him instantly think of the marks around his neck. Did she really hate him to the point that she wanted him dead? He knew he wasn't the best son--he was aware that he had a bit of a mouth and an attitude--but he wasn't that bad. He had been the one that would help her to her bed after a whiskey binge whenever "the one" of the month left her, he was the one that would take care of her when she wouldn't get out of bed for weeks because of it, all while taking every one of her derogative slurs and forms of abuse. He'd try as hard as he could to get back onto her good side, to make the voices like him again, but their hate grew with each passing month.

Jess forced those thoughts out of his mind and looked over towards the window as he brought his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He could feel Luke's stare and he deeply wished the man would look somewhere else for at least a minute. Everything was just so weird and awkward right then, and his uncle's gaze made him feel even more uncomfortable.

Luke didn't know what to say--he was never good in situations like these--so he kept himself quiet. Silence loomed over the two for what felt like ages, the only sound heard being the beeping of the monitor that followed the steady pace of his nephew's heartbeat. Jess seemed rather content with the silence, and the boy kept his gaze off towards the window, mind lost in thought. Luke felt the exact opposite, and the silence instead felt incredibly awkward and he was dying to break it. He shifted in his seat before suddenly proclaiming:

"I going to file for permanent custody of you." He felt the need to inform his nephew of this, and what a good way to get the kid's attention. The boy turned his head quickly to look towards his uncle with a raised eyebrow, sending the man a bemused look.

"Why?" his voice croaked out, no emotion behind it, nothing that would give Luke a hint to what the boy felt about his proclamation.

The question took Luke by surprise, and after a quick moment he responded with what sounded like the most obvious answer, "Because your mother almost killed you last night, Jess."

The boy's eyes quickly wandered off towards the sheets, his fingers playing with the IV in his arm. Luke almost went to pull the boy's hand off of the tube, but quickly remembered the way the kid reacted last time he tried to touch him. Jess didn't like to be touched, and that made Luke wonder what thehell his sister had done to the poor kid over those years when they had disappeared. He wondered if there were other incidents like this, maybe not as serious and maybe not reported, but still terrible none the less. He couldn't believe this had happened still, he couldn't believe Liz had really tried to kill her own son. He never thought his sister would go this far off the deep end.

"It wasn't her," the kid's voice came out soft and hoarse. He kept his eyes focused away from Luke, hand still playing with the tube. That was the truth, it really hadn't been Liz, it had been the voices. They told her what to do, they took control of her and forced her skinny, bony, pale hands to wrap around his neck and squeezed so hard that they left bruises that wrapped around his neck so perfectly--each finger visible--like they had been painted on. The marks were just another piece of artwork that the voices had made her create on his skin to add to their collection.

"Jess--"

"It wasn't her, Luke," Jess' voice came out with more authority this time, but the tone didn't match his stance. The boy's tired eyes were focused far off from Luke, and he was far too sleepy to send a glare the man's way. He was sore and his throat hurt terribly, not to mention the fact that his ribs felt the need to give off small stings of pain every so often; and to make matters worse, he was craving a cigarette, and he knew he would not be getting that anytime soon.

"Jess," Luke started, catching the boy's gaze, "do you really want to go back to your mother?"

Jess' eyes fell onto the bed and his fingers grasped at his hair as he shut his eyes tightly. He didn't want to speak the truth, he didn't want to sound like he hated her, and he didn't want her to start hating him even more because he didn't want to stay with her. He wanted out--he'd wanted out for years, thoughts of running away coming into his mind every other month, but he never could get himself to leave; it would have hurt her too much. But he knew he couldn't go back there anymore, not after this. She had gone too far, and he knew the next time she may actually finish what she started and really kill him.

"No," he finally admitted, his eyes traveling off towards the window again as his fingers released his hair from their grasp, "I don't."

There was a part of him that wanted to stay though, a part of him that wanted to forget that all of this had happened, wanted to forgot that moment when she had her hands wrapped so tightly around his neck that her nails practically dug into his skin. It wanted to forget the pain, the way he fought and kicked as he tried to get her off, the blotches of black that obscured his sight; it wanted to forget all of that, it wanted to forget that she had tried to kill him. He could go on living with her crazy antics for a few more years, that part would persuade him, then he'd be free, but then he'd realize he couldn't. She had really tried to kill him, and there was no way he would ever be able to forget that. He really wished he could though, it made him feel like complete shit knowing his own mother had wanted him dead.

"You won't have to," Luke told the boy, "I promise you that." Luke's eyes fell onto the darkened marks that ran around his nephew's neck--they were starting to turn into bruises--and he felt a sudden surge of anger. Some of it was directed at his sister for doing that to her own son, but it was more directed towards himself. He should have fought harder, he should have protected Jess from this. That thought just would not leave him alone; he could have saved his nephew from all of this pain he if had just fought a little harder to protect him from her. This was his fault, he should have saved him years ago.

"She'll never hurt you again, Jess." Luke told the boy, catching the kid's attention, "I promise."

Jess just sat silent for a moment, before looking over towards his uncle, finally making willing eye contact with him for the first time since he had woken, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Jess--"

Luke was cut off suddenly by the sturdy footsteps and voice of Dr. Richard, "How are you feeling today, Jess?" The man asked as he walked in and pulled the chart from off of the kid's bed. He flipped open the chart and clicked the end of his pen cap against it before looking over towards Jess.

"Fine," he replied with a raspy voice, dull eyes laying on the doctor.

"I heard you had a pretty startling wake this morning," he said, jotting down something on the chart before looking back up, "But other than that, everything feels fine?"

"Yep," Jess told the man, his gaze falling over towards Luke, then back to the doctor. He adjusted himself so he was sitting crisscross, feeling a small sting of pain from his ribs as he moved about, before continuing, "Can I go now?"

"I'd like to keep you in here until at least late tomorrow," Dr. Richard informed the boy, Jess going wide-eyed and peeved at the statement. Luke seemed a bit worried at this, and he quickly started thinking the worst. The doctor caught onto the uncle's worried look, and swiftly added, "It's just precautionary, that's all." His eyes shifted to his patient, "Your throat is probably just going to be a bit sore for a while, as well as your ribs, but other than that I believe you'll be fine."

Luke leaned back in his chair, feeling much more relieved by the doctor's words. He looked over to his nephew, who sat there wearing an irritated expression, sending the doctor the strongest glare he could muster before turning his gaze down and running a hand through his messy hair.

"There's something else we need to talk about though, Jess," the doctor told the boy, "about the bruises and scars that are scattered all over your body."

Jess noticeably tensed up at the mention of the marks, and suddenly became rather nervous. He didn't like to think about them, more the less talk about them. People weren't supposed to know they were there. He kept them hidden for a reason, and now it felt like the whole world knew his mother had beat him. He had always felt like people would look at him in a different light if they knew what happened to him behind closed doors. They'd see him as this poor, beaten kid, who had a mother that was a mental case. They'd feel such sorrow and pity for him, and he hated that more than anything. He didn't need their pitiful looks and sympathetic smiles, he just needed them to forget they ever learned about it.

"Jess, did your mother give them to you?"

The doctor's question caught Jess' attention, and his eyes quickly traveled back over to the man. He glanced over to Luke, who was looking at him with such interest that it made him want to curl up and disappear. They both knew the damn answer, so why were they asking him in the first place?

"What do you think?" Jess retorted, crossing his arms and sending a glare the man's way. It was a weak attempt at his usual attitude-filled responses, but he was sitting in a hospital bed, attached to an IV and machines for Pete's sake. He was way too tired and sore to give much effort right then.

"I don't know, Jess," the doctor told the boy, waiting patiently as he tried to somewhat push the boy towards answering, "What should I think?"

Jess sat silent for a moment. He stared down at his lap, eyes glued to the IV in his hand and a random scar that Liz had left on his wrist, before letting out a sigh and saying, "She did it," His voice was soft and his eyes stayed glued to his arm, "will you leave me alone now?" He flipped his wrist and turned his gaze away from the old scar, looking up and over to the window, wishing that he could leave this hospital, with it's fluorescent bright lights and itchy hospital gowns. He was tired and annoyed and partially embarrassed over the whole thing and he just wanted to be alone. He really hated hospitals and this whole situation was too messed up for words.

"One more thing," he spoke up, causing Jess to roll his eyes, "are you sure you don't want to press charges?"

Luke sat up straight in his chair, ready to chime in if the boy gave any protest against it. He knew the kid kept believing it wasn't her, but if Jess didn't get away from her, the next time she may really kill him.

"I can't," Jess gave them a simple answer and turned his gaze towards Luke. The man looked ready to argue, but his uncle must understand why he didn't want to do it. Liz was his mother, for Christ's sake, and Luke's sister. She'd hate him if he did that to her, and he didn't want his mother to hate him anymore than she did--well, the voices hated him, not Liz ... right? God, everything was just so confusing, it always had been, but now things felt ten times worse.

"Jess--" Luke started up fiercely, ready to question him and knock some sense into him, (not literally, of course) but his nephew cut him off.

"I can't," he repeated, putting emphasis on the word. He wouldn't let them change his mind, and he would stand his ground on this. Even if he looked weak sitting in that hospital bed, his voice hoarse and not sending off the message as well as he would like it to, he would not let them persuade him otherwise. His own mother was not going to hate him anymore than those voices made her.

"Alright," the doctor didn't want to argue with the boy anymore, he could tell the decision would not be changed by either he or Luke at the moment, "I'll let you rest now," he flipped the chart shut and placed it back at the end of the bed, "I'll be in to check on you later, but for now, please eat some food and get some rest."

As the doctor left the room, Jess adjusted himself on the bed and turned to gaze out the window again, trying to keep his eye contact away from his uncle, who he knew wanted to start asking questions about Liz. He knew his uncle would want to know more. Luke was always one to try to fix things, and he needed to actually know more than he did to attempt to fix anything concerning him. In Jess' opinion, his uncle shouldn't even be here. He wasn't the man's responsibility, and just because Liz strangled him didn't mean that he had to take him in. The idea of living with his uncle again wasn't a terrible thing though, and he kind of felt like he'd like it. He liked it back when he was little, and anything would be better than living with Liz, but things were happening so fast right then. His mother had just tried to kill him, now he was seeing his long lost uncle for the first time in ten years, and now everyone knew that Liz had abused him. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to live with Liz and deal with the pain until he could escape and move across the sea, far away from Liz and her crazy antics. No one would ever have to find out about the pain he'd been through. He would start a new life, write books, find a girlfriend, and be happy. Everything was just too much for him right then, and he desperately needed to escape.

"Luke," he kept his eyes focused towards the window as he called the man's name, not risking eye contact, "could you turn the TV on?"

The diner owner mumbled a quick "sure" and grabbed the remote off the table, finger pressing down against the red power button, causing an image to appear of the screen. Jess turned his head and focused on the TV that sat up in the corner of the room. Within a few minutes, he was absorbed in the story, and the reality that he was being forced to live through was stuck somewhere in the back of his mind, where he wished it would stay forever.

Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you liked the chapter.

Jess will be out of the hospital next chapter, and he will be back in Stars Hollow really soon.

In the meantime, please, please, please review! I love to hear what you all think about my story, and reviews make my day :)