Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas!

Thank you all so much for the reviews for last chapter, I appreciate them all so much! Sorry it took me so long to get this up, I didn't have time Wednesday and the terrible work weekend I am having as left for little free time to edit. I have been trying to split my time between this story and my Charmed one, but I have been seriously neglecting my Charmed story, so I am trying to get back into that.

Enjoy the chapter! :)

The next morning Luke's prediction was right, and the diner was packed full of customers waiting to get a glimpse of the now grown boy that used to run around their town playing games with Rory and Lane. The two girls were part of the crowd, as well as Lorelai, and they all three sat at the same table, the Gilmores drinking their usual cup of coffee. He could hear Miss Patty gossiping with Babette, the two older woman going on about his crazy sister and that "poor boy" who was sleeping upstairs in the apartment. Well, the last time Luke checked, the kid was sleeping. It was now nearing 11 and he wasn't sure if the boy had gotten up or was still out. He would understood if his nephew was still asleep: the boy had had a rough night again last night, and he had found his nephew up and shuffling around the apartment, reading books or sneaking a smoke near the window frequently. Whenever Luke was woken by the noise his nephew was unintentionally making, he would ask if he had had another nightmare, like at the hospital, and the boy gave the simple and peeved reply, "It's none of your business," every time. Jess seemed pretty frustrated with himself over the whole thing--the boy really did want to get some peaceful sleep--but he could tell that the kid was used to it. These nightmares were a common occurrence for him, it seemed, and the kid just dealt with it the only way he could think of: by not sleeping. He'd have to figure out a way to help the kid, because his sleeping patterns definitely were not healthy. Maybe they could go see a doctor or something? There had to be a way to get these nightmares to leave his nephew alone.

Luke grabbed a coffee pot and went to the counter to refill Kirk's mug, who had been sitting there with an impatient look because he had had to wait for a minute with his hand raised up slightly in the air, holding a mug.

He sped his way past the man, ignoring the comments Kirk made about his long wait, and walked over towards Lorelai, who was staring intently at a menu. Luke had to roll his eyes at this. The woman had memorized his menu years ago, and he hardly put anything new on it.

"What can I get you three?" he asked as he reached the table, pulling out his order pad from his pocket and sliding his pencil out from his ear.

"Nothing for me, Luke," Lane told the man with a smile, "I'm just hear to get a possible glimpse of Jess."

"Lane!" Rory exclaimed, crossing her arms and giving her a friend a disapproving look due to her bluntness.

"Oh, come on Rory," she exclaimed, giving her a friend a smile, "We both used to have a major crush on Jess when we were little," Rory instantly went red at this, and Lorelai looked up with amusement. She remembered that. Rory and Lane would always be fighting over who would marry the boy, and the girls could really get at it. They would always promise to share him at the end of each argument--Rory's logical suggestion being that they could both marry him--and the two girls would run off, that tiny fight all behind them, "Remember the time you proposed to him in the park?" Lane asked, wearing a wide grin as she noticed her friend go even redder.

"I did not!" Rory exclaimed, catching Luke's amused glance as she averted her gaze away from Lane.

"I actually remember that quite well," Lorelai chimed in, placing her menu down on the table, "You got down on one knee and gave him a small cardboard box with a cheap little plastic ring from a vending machine in it." Lane laughed at this, and, if possible, it seemed Rory had gotten even redder.

"Your father was there," Lorelai turned her gaze over to Luke with a smile, and the man's smile softened a little at the mention of his deceased father, "he was sitting with me on the bench, watching Jess. He was always so good with him," Luke's smile grew again when he remembered how well his father had been with his grandchild. Despite his problems with Liz, he still managed to love that boy more than anything. Lorelai let out a laugh before she continued, "And Jess looked completely shocked over the whole thing, those puppy dog eyes of his went wide. He accepted though, but you made him promise to marry Lane too."

Rory covered her face and mumbled, "Please stop, mom. This is embarrassing," A few of the other occupants of the diner had taken up to listening, and Miss Patty and Babette had started up with the exaggerated and drawn out "awws" and added in "that's so cute" every few moments.

"I remember him being such a cute little boy, Luke!" Miss Patty exclaimed, catching Luke's attention. Babette added a nod of agreement and Lorelai couldn't help but smile. Jess had been an adorable little boy. His big light brown eyes and that mess of dark brown hair, along with that cute--but sometimes devilish-- crooked smile, had made the boy quite the cute kid.

"Did he grow up to be that handsome hunk we all thought he'd turn out to be?" Miss Patty asked, giving a wink over towards Luke. Her eyes travelled over to Rory and gave her a wide smile, "For Rory's sake?"

"Miss Patty!" She exclaimed, getting flustered once again, "I have a boyfriend!"

"Well," she started with a shrug of her shoulders, "it's always good to keep something on the side, you know," she gave another wink towards Rory, "to spice things up."

Lorelai and Lane burst into laughter at this, and Rory quickly covered her face, completely embarrassed that the whole conversation was even happening, "Oh my God," she exclaimed, drawling out the last word as she hid her face further from sight.

The sudden burst of music from upstairs quickly caught Luke's attention, and Lorelai and Lane quit their laughing after hearing it as well. It wasn't blaring in volume, but it was pretty damn loud. David Bowie's song "Changes" was blasting from the stereo above, and Lane and Rory both smiled with approval of the choice. Luke knew that he'd have to go up there and get the kid to turn it down, but at least it had alerted him that his nephew was finally up. He had been meaning to check up on him, but hadn't had the chance yet.

For some reason, Lorelai felt as if she had suddenly got a slap in the face and was taken away from memory lane. The Jess up in that apartment was not the cute, innocent little boy that ran around pretending to be married to her daughter and Lane anymore. He had gone off and vanished with his unstable mother for ten years, going through God only knows what, and was back here because his mother had tried to kill him. Jess had changed, and the Jess that she remembered no longer existed. Not after living with that woman.

Lorelai looked over to her friend, and she noticed he too had seemed to have had that hard slap to the face as well, that smile that had been there moments ago disappearing, They both realized the same thing: the kid listening to Bowie up above them was in no way the Jess they had been reminiscing about. He had gone through too much to end up coming out anywhere near the same wide eyed boy they remembered. Maybe there was a little part of that carefree child left inside of him, but it had to have been pushed aside in order for him to survive while living with his unstable mother. There was no way he would have been there that day if he had stayed that innocent boy.

"I should go check up on him," Luke spoke up, meeting Lorelai's gaze. He motioned over towards the stairs, "Make sure he gets something to eat."

"Yeah," Lorelai gave Luke a smile and a nod, "go on and go. We can wait a few minutes for our food." She paused for a moment, before adding, "Besides," she picked the menu back up and began to study it once again, "I'm still searching the menu to see if there's something on here I haven't tried yet."

Luke gave a nod and turned, starting his way back towards the curtain that hid the stairs from view. He stuffed his order pad and pencil back in their rightful places as he pushed the curtain aside. His feet paced quickly up the stairs and he grasped the door handle as he reached it. When he twisted it open and was allowed a view of the room, to his surprise, his nephew was nowhere in sight. He spotted the stereo--an old, tiny, little thing that Luke barely ever used--sitting near the boy's bed, blasting almost at full volume. He twisted down the volume and caught onto the chatting of two random characters that was coming from the TV. He looked up and spotted an overplayed action movie that he felt he had seen almost twenty times turned on. He made his way over to the TV with a roll of his eyes, wondering why on earth his nephew felt the need to listen to music as well as watch TV, and pressed down on the power button. The voices ceased as the image disappeared with a static snap.

He suddenly heard the faucet start running in the bathroom, and he turned his head over towards the sound, spotting the bathroom door closed and concluding his nephew was in there. It explained why he hadn't spotted the boy earlier. He picked up the scent of cigarette smoke and looked over towards the window, spotting a smoking cigarette sitting on an old plate of his. Luke let out an exasperated huff as he made his way over to the window and picked up the cigarette, throwing it down to the pavement with a swift flick of his wrist. He was going to have to work on getting the boy to quit smoking, as well as set some rules, like don't smoke in the apartment, causing it to reek of smoke.

Luke heard the door to the bathroom creak open, and quickly turned to spot his nephew, running a towel through his wet, soggy hair. Luke's eyes quickly landed on the boy's exposed chest, catching onto the assortment of scars and bruises that covered it. You could see a sickening purple swirl where his fractured rib was, and what looked like burn marks and pink colored lines that traced their way up his chest.

"Shit!" The boy let out the harsh curse as he spotted his uncle and quickly slipped back into the bathroom, "I thought you were working!" He called from behind the door, resting his back against the adjacent wall near it. His eyes travelled down to the assortment of scars on his chest, and he shut his eyes as the memories started to flood back in. He could remember how he had obtained every burn, lash mark, and cut. The events were all branded permanently in his memory. He cursed himself for forgetting a shirt when he went off to get showered. He remembered pants, but not a shirt. It had been such an idiotic mistake, and he should have expected Luke would make his way upstairs to check on him eventually.

"I heard the music and I came to see if you were up," Luke's voice had gotten a bit louder, and Jess could tell the man was right near the door. "Well, I knew you were up, because David Bowie was blasting through my diner, but--" The elder Danes paused and stopped his rambling, waiting for some sort of reply from his nephew, and besides, Luke honesty didn't know what to say; all he could do was go over what he had saw on his nephew's torso in his mind, over and over. He couldn't believe that those marks were really there, the glance had been so quick, but he knew he had saw them, and it caused him even more pain to realize that it had been his own sister who had given the boy those scars.

"Could you get me a shirt, Luke?" the boy asked, running a hand though his soggy hair as he banged his head back against the wall, punishing himself for his stupidity. No one was supposed to see those scars--it was humiliating enough that he had to see them every day, but now his uncle had to have gotten a glance at them.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Luke stumbled with his words, the boy snapping his thoughts away from his marked up torso for a moment as he wandered over towards Jess' bed, in search of a shirt. His gaze darted around, stopping when he spotted a pile of shirts lying on the floor near the end of his bed. He grabbed up the first shirt he could find--a simple tan t-shirt--and rushed his way to the door. He just stood awkwardly for a moment, before giving a knock on the door and calling, "Uh, Jess..."

The boy cracked the door open and Luke caught a glimpse of one of his light brown eyes, as well as the nasty bruise on his cheek. Luke held out the shirt and Jess stretched out an arm and grabbed it quickly from him, shutting the door swiftly as his hand was safely inside. He emerged moments later, bare, scared torso that had once been visible before now covered, and walked his way past Luke.

"Give a warning next time," Jess informed his uncle, turning to glance over at the man, "you weren't supposed to see that." Jess tugged at his shirt self-consciously, trying to pull it down as far as it would go as his eyes set on the stereo. He ran a hand through his damp hair and twisted the knob on the stereo near his bed, causing David Bowie's voice to blare loudly out of the speakers.

"Jess," Luke watched as the boy walked past him, and his eyes feel onto the marks around his neck. They stuck out, and Luke couldn't help but give a glance their way, "Did your mother give you all--"

"I don't want to talk about it," Jess interrupted his uncle harshly, and glared over his way as he made his way to the window, trying to find the cigarette he'd been smoking. He noticed that his make-shift ash tray was empty and instantly figured his uncle had thrown his cigarette out of the window. He pulled out his pack from it's place between the two couch cushions it had fell between and slid out a stick. He turned and pointed pointed a stiff finger his uncle's way as he placed the stick in his mouth, "You owe me a cigarette." He informed the diner owner as he flicked the thumbwheel of his lighter and lit the stick that sat between his lips.

"Jess," Luke started, the boy's eyes darting up towards him and away from the end of his stick, "could you possibly go smoke outside?" He asked, "I'd rather keep the stench of smoke out of my apartment, if you don't mind."

"Sure," Jess replied, plopping down onto the couch and turning the TV back on, "Just as once as everyone is out of the diner, then I'll head on out."

Luke's eyes fell onto the bruises on the boy's neck again, and he suddenly realized why the boy was keeping himself cooped up in here. The town knew what had happened, and he didn't like that, so why would he go downstairs and flaunt his bruised neck for everyone to see? Jess was very self-conscious when it came to the marks on his body, and he didn't like the fact that even his uncle knew about them, so now that others knew about what his mother had done, he wouldn't let them see proof of it. The kid knew he'd have to go outside eventually, and those bruises wouldn't heal until after a month or so, but for now, he wanted to stay out of the eye of those ever curious men and woman that made up the inhabitants of the small town.

The boy kept his eyes glued to the TV as he smoked his cigarette, watching it with such interest that he didn't even notice when Luke turned down his stereo once again. The man let out a sigh and looked back over at his nephew, who sat on the couch with his knees up and toes hanging off the edge. The kid let out a cloud of smoke from his mouth and reached out to tap the ash off the end of his cigarette, eyes never leaving the screen for more than a brief second.

Luke felt awkward just standing in the middle of the apartment, and desperately felt the need to do something. He could go back downstairs and start working again, but he desperately wanted to get his nephew away from that TV and get him doing something that involved talking. He had noticed during his few days with the boy that he seemed to get absorbed in his books and the TV, and he quickly became silent and distant. It was like he had escaped off to some other plane, and the kid tried to stay there as long as he could. It worried Luke to see him like that, and he wanted to keep his nephew talking and actually focusing on reality for as long as possible. It wasn't the best reality, he knew that, but he needed to keep himself grounded in it for as long as possible. His nephew was a pretty distant kid, but seeing him this unresponsive made Luke determined to keep him grounded as much as possible. It reminded him of Liz, to tell the truth. She used to do the same thing, and Jess seemed to have picked that up from her.

"Have you eaten yet, Jess?" he asked, taking a few steps closer to the boy. When he got no reply, he took a few more steps and gently reached over to touch the kid's shoulder, feeling that a gentle touch would hopefully snap him out of it without causing his nephew to flinch away.

The boy flinched slightly at the touch, not as much as he usually did, and turned his gaze up towards his uncle. He looked down towards the hand that was gently resting on his shoulder, feeling uncomfortable with the extra weight, before looking up towards his uncle, "What?" he asked, shrugging his shoulder away from Luke's light grip.

"I asked if you had eaten anything yet," he informed the boy, watching as he took a drag and looked back over towards the TV, "Jess," he called again, grabbing the boy's attention and causing his eyes to snap back towards him. He wasn't going to let Jess get sucked back into the TV, not yet, at least.

"You have no food," the kid declared, taking a drag and looking back at the TV.

"I have tons of food," Luke defended, crossing his arms.

Jess looked up at him as he exhaled smoke and tapped the ash off the end of the stick before speaking up, "I don't eat health food," he insisted. He had looked through the whole kitchen, and all he could find was organic, healthy foods that he had never really cared for. Liz never bought that stuff, most of the time their house was supplied with a few boxes of cereal and a cartoon of milk. That as was far as the menu went in their apartment. Liz lacked tons of money, and she didn't really focus her time on making sure he was feed, she focused her time on making sure he wasn't sometimes, though. Starvation had been a punishment for him a few times; he'd always choose that over anything physical. Liz usually ordered take-out or simply didn't eat at all. It depended on how gone she was due to the drugs or whether she was in one of her moods and the voices had taken over. He had resorted to digging through dumpsters behind take-out places after a while, as degrading as it was, and sometimes even took a quick stop at a soup kitchen. He didn't do that too often though. Those people tended to ask too many questions about things that were not their business, and he couldn't risk them finding out about what his mother was doing to him.

Luke rolled his eyes at this and crossed his arms, "It's not health food," he declared, "it's just good for you."

"Yeah," Jess said, eyes stuck back on the TV, "and that's the definition of health food, Uncle Luke."

Luke let out an irritated sigh at his nephew's use of "uncle" before waking into the kitchen and pulling out a mixing bowl, "I'll make you some pancakes then, how about that?" Luke offered. It wasn't really a choice of yes or no for his nephew, since the boy would be eating them no matter what, as well as getting those painkillers into his system. He knew Jess was trying to hide the fact that he was in pain, but he had caught onto the quick flashes of contorted features and small groans as the boy accidentally took too deep of an inhale or moved his torso just a bit too quickly.

"Whatever," the boy replied, eyes glued to the TV as he started to focus back on the movie he was watching. He tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette and took another lengthy puff.

Luke busied himself in the kitchen, measuring out ingredients and pouring them into bowls, combining them all like the recipe he had memorized had told him. He mixed the batter with a whisk, taking glances over at his nephew every few minutes as he moved about the kitchen, setting up a pan on the stove and pouring a glop of batter onto it. Jess just kept up his smoking, eyes glued to the TV. Whenever a commercial would come on, the boy seemed to snap back into reality, and he would give a glance towards the window or over towards the boxes that his books were stacked in. They still hadn't unpacked any of them, and all of Jess' clothes were just scattered about the floor, cluttering his side of the apartment.

Once the first three pancakes were ready, Luke quickly slid it onto a plate and hastily made his way over to his nephew, "Jess," he called.

The boy ignored him, eyes still stuck on the TV as he took another puff of his cigarette. Luke rolled his eyes and made his way up to the TV set, and with a flick of his wrist, the image on the TV disappeared and Jess blinked before sending an irritated look the man's way.

"Breakfast is ready," he informed his nephew, watching as the boy took one last drag of his cigarette before standing up and tossing it out of the window. Luke met the kid at the window and pulled the frame shut, turning his gaze back over to Jess to add, "How about you take a break from smoking for a bit?" he suggested, watching as the kid rolled his eyes as he turned and headed over to the table, "I think you've smoked half a pack since you left the hospital; you're like a chimney."

"No," Jess shook his head, "I only smoked nine of them," he replied as he plopped down into a chair. Luke grabbed his plate from off the counter and placed it in front of him. There were three pancakes stacked up on it, all cooked to a nice golden brown.

"Well," Luke replied as he poured Jess a cup of milk and grabbed the Advil from off of the counter as he sat down, "let's save the tenth one for later then, shall we?" He watched as Jess picked up his knife and fork and began to cut the stacked cakes.

"Whatever you say, Uncle Luke," he responded, a small smirk curling on his lips as he noticed his uncle's features contort to show a little bit of annoyance. He stuffed a piece of pancake into his mouth and began to chew. They were delicious, and he had completely forgotten how great his uncle was at cooking. He hadn't had pancakes since he and Liz had stopped at a diner one day on their way to New York, and even those hadn't been this good. When he was younger, still living with his grandfather and uncle, he used to have them every Saturday morning. He remembered Luke would be up bright and early like he always was, shuffling his way around the kitchen as he flipped and poured pancake batter onto a pan. The aroma filled the house and Jess would rush downstairs with a grin, meeting up with his grandfather, who was coming back from outside, a newspaper in his hands, at the front door. He had never had any memories like that with Liz. There never was a smile on his face when his mother was with him--well, never a genuine smile, at least.

Jess stuffed another slice of pancake into his mouth before gulping it down and going for the milk. He took a long, refreshing swig as Luke started up talking.

"Jess," he began, causing the boy to glance up his way, "I set up an appointment with a lawyer today."

Jess placed the milk glass down and pointed his fork at his uncle, "I told you I was not pressing charges," he reminded, sending a glare his uncle's way.

"This isn't about what she--" he paused, eyes quickly falling onto the bruised marks that stuck out against his nephew's pale neck, quickly making the diner owner loss the will to finish his sentence, "Jess," he started again, watching as the boy brought a hand up to his neck, "this is about the custody case."

Jess poked his fork into the stack of pancakes on his plate, suddenly losing his appetite, "Oh," he exclaimed softly, stabbing at the pancakes once again.

Luke watched as Jess poked at his food, puncturing holes into the pancakes with a gentle force. Luke's eyes fell onto the hospital band that was still wrapped around his nephew's wrist; the boy's name typed in all caps, date and age typed right below it, and finally, the barcode. He wondered to himself how many similar bands had been wrapped around his nephew's wrist over the years, he wondered how many times he ended up in there because of her. He was hoping not as many as he expected, he prayed Liz hadn't treated his nephew as bad as this all of his ten years with her.

Jess slouched back in his chair, still poking at his food. Luke adjusted himself in his seat and sat up right, deciding to continue with what he had planned to say, "We're going tomorrow, and--"

"'We're going'?" Jess sat up straight in his seat, dropping his fork onto his plate. Luke gave a nod and Jess quickly started to protest, "No Luke, I am not going," he let out an irritated sigh and crossed his arms as he leaned back against the chair, "can't you just, I don't know, not get the law involved? I don't want to get her in trouble."

"Jess," Luke started, placing his elbows onto the table, "there isn't any other way." Luke took off his baseball cap and ran a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh before continuing, "She almost killed you but you didn't press charges, and I didn't stop you, but I'll be damned if I let you go back to her," his nephew made eye contact with him at that statement, "Jess, I have no rights to you, and unless we take this to court, you'll end up back with your mother."

The boy just sat there for a moment, taking in what his uncle had said, before picking up his fork again and stabbing down at a cut slice of pancake, "Fine," he replied, sitting himself up straight, "I'll go." He took a bit of his pancakes and stabbed down again at another. He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to hurt his mother, but he didn't have a choice. His mother wasn't stable and he knew he wasn't safe with her. He didn't know what she would do at any given moment, and he lived his life constantly on guard around her. If he didn't pay attention to his actions, if he let himself slip and gave her attitude, he would get hell for it. With Luke he knew he'd be safe. He wouldn't have to worry about whether or not his mother would barge into his room with an iron, or decide to just kick him out for a week because she believed he wasn't her son. With Luke, there would be none of that, and things would finally be normal--well, as normal as they could be for him.

"Good," Luke replied, his lips curling up into a small smile at the sound of his victory. His nephew was such a stubborn boy, but he had actually been able to convince him. He wished he had been able to do that earlier when it came to the kid pressing charges against his mother, but that had been a whole different scenario. Jess didn't want to see his mother in jail, and Luke knew he really didn't want to see it either. His nephew still cared for his mother, even after all of the things she had done to him over the years. Luke didn't understand how that was even possible, but it was.

There was a knock on the door frame, and both Jess and Luke looked up to spot Lorelai Gilmore standing near the door, wearing a gentle smile. The bruise on Jess' face quickly caught her attention, and the marks on his neck soon drew her gaze down, but she keep her smile on. Those marks on his neck looked so vicious, like they had been given to him by some rabid monster, and she couldn't believe that monster had been his own mother. The little wide-eyed boy she remembered had grown up into a young man though, and even through the bruises she could see he had turned out to be quite the looker. She held in a giggle at this, remembering the conversation she had had earlier with her flustered daughter over her small crush on the little boy years ago.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting," she started, taking a few steps into the apartment, "Caesar sent me up here to get you," she explained, setting her eyes on Luke, "the diner's getting a little hectic. Caesar can't handle all of the customers on his own, and Kirk is driving everybody up the wall, so Caesar is about to run out of the kitchen, frying pan in hand, and I'm pretty sure you don't want a murder scene down there."

Luke sent a small smile Lorelai's, giving her a nod, before setting his eyes on to his nephew, "Jess," he started, the kid looking up his way, "this is Lorelai. She's a good friend of mine."

"Hi," she greeted, giving Jess a small wave, "I don't know if you remember me, but you used to be friends with my daughter, Rory," Jess just stared at her with a blank expression. Lorelai widened her smile and tried to lighten up the mood, "and whatever evil things Luke has been telling you about me," she added, teasingly, "it's all lies."

"Huh," was all the boy gave in response, looking over at his uncle then back over to the weird cheery woman near the door. He remembered her slightly. He had almost recognized her, seeing a few features he thought seemed familiar to him. He remembered a much younger version of her though, but she wasn't really that old still. She and Luke were around the same age, he believed, but he wasn't so sure. All he knew was that she was around Liz's age when she had Rory, since the two of them were both born in the same year. Lorelai was the exact opposite of his mother, with her friendly smile and peppy attitude, she was such a contrast to his bitter and absolutely crazy mother. She had been so nice to him when he was little, he remembered how she would play house with Rory and him, eating fake sandwiches and running around them with a smile. Liz was never like that, Liz's idea of a game would be slapping him until he stopped his flinching whenever she came to touch him, wearing a devilish grin and letting out a laugh as he would always fail. They had played the malicious game numerous times when he was younger, and he hated it more than anything. He used to wish that he could have someone like Lorelai as his mother, someone as caring and sane as she was.

Jess pushed his chair back and stood from his seat, wincing a little as a pain radiated through his chest--he had gotten up just a little too fast for his fractured ribs liking. He made his way over to the couch and grabbed up his pack of cigarettes, sliding out the tenth one, marking a half a pack as he lit the end and took his first drag.

Luke and Lorelai shared a quick glance before Luke rose from his chair and called out to the boy, "Jess," the kid's gaze fell his way, right as he unlatched the lock on the window and opened it, "I'm going to go down into the diner and help Caesar," he informed the kid, watching as he flicked the ash off the end of his stick, the ashes scattering as they flew down, "Finish eating and take some Advil to help with the pain, alright?"

Jess gave a curt nod as he settled back onto the couch and reached out to pull a box filled with books over his way. He slid the flaps open and searched for a moment before pulling out a worn copy of A Farewell To Arms.

"I'll be back up to check on you later," he told his nephew as the kid flipped the book open, placing the cigarette between his lips. He didn't give a response, and he quickly started up on his book, eyes following the words on the page with great concern and interest, not wanting to miss any single phrase.

Luke made his way over to Lorelai and the two shared a look of matching concern before heading out of the apartment and shutting the door behind them.

"He's so different," Lorelai commented as they made their way down the stairs, stopping as she landed on the bottom step right near the curtain.

"He's not that six year old boy anymore," Luke responded as he reached the bottom of the staircase shortly after his friend, meeting her there.

Lorelai's mind quickly flashed to the nasty looking bruises that covered the boy's neck, and those dulled eyes that she remembered being so bright years ago. What had Liz done to him? Over all of those years where no one had any clue where they were, any clue if Liz was stable or if Jess was even alive, what had she done to him to turn that happy-go-lucky little boy into that teenage boy who sat above them?

"What did she do to him?" Lorelai asked Luke, voice laced with worry and genuine concern. Those hand marks just kept flashing through her mind, clouding her thoughts and not allowing her to slip away from it.

"I wish I knew," Luke responded, stepping up towards the curtain, "but all I know is that I'm going to fix this," he pushed the curtain aside and glanced back, giving one last look towards Lorelai and adding with determination, "I'm never letting my sister near him again."

Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you liked it!

Please take the time to review, I really love to hear what you all think; it makes my day!

I will try to update as soon as possible, as well as write another chapter for this, but I'm going to try to focus on my Charmed one this week.

Don't worry, though, the next chapter for this story is all typed out, I just need to edit it.

Thank you again for reading, and please review!

:)