A/N: I'm sorry I haven't updated for like two weeks, but I've been super busy and haven't gotten the chance to update. Chapter 4 is already partly written, but I'm also sporting a major case of writers block, so I'm not sure when I'll update again. I'm really excited though for all the reviews I've gotten, like 16 - and that's only on two chapters! I hope that you keep reviewing, and enjoy the show. Italics are flashbacks.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, I don't even own them on DVD.

Strawberry Gashes

Chapter 3


I tried to kill the pain
but only brought more
I lay dying
and I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal

--

The car ride was made in silence, both passengers minds were far from the location their bodies were at. Rory's mind was on her mother's and grandmother's argument about her.

"You can't just ignore this Lorelai, she is your daughter,"

"That's right, she's my daughter. That means you don't get to throw her into a mental institution to discuss her 'issues'. I decide what's best for Rory, not you. She will not be committed."

"She needs to talk to a professional," Emily cut in, her arms crossed.

Rory couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her grandmother was actually trying to put her in a mental hospital. She rose from the bed and threw the door to her room open.

"This would never have happened if you hadn't messed up so much with Christopher,"

That was when Rory'd had enough. "Stop it, both of you!" both Lorelai and Emily turned to look at her, noticing her for the first time. "First of all; I will do what I want to, I'm 21, you can't force me to do anything. Second; I need to get away for a while, so I'm going to Philadelphia with Jess," turning around, she slammed the door shut and went back into her bad. She could still hear the argument, and she sighed.

She couln't help but to look at him as they drove. It was dark outside, and the many lights along the way made patterns on his skin. Her eyes travelled over his hair, which was shorter now than the last time she saw him, his eyes which were squinted at the moment, the look of concentration on his face, and finally down to his lips. She felt her own lips tingle at the idea of kissing him, but quickly dismissed the thought.

Jess found it difficult to concentrate on the road ahead of him, and not on the woman sitting next to him. The scent of her perfume flared through his nostrils, a scent that hadn't changed over the years.

She only took one bag from her room at the Gilmore's house. It had been stuffed with various clothes and books, and Jess had asked her if she wanted to take more with her. He had been with her, mostly because she didn't want to face her grandmother alone. She had answered 'no' to his question, claiming to have everything she needed. They still hadn't brought up how long she was going to stay, but he knew that he would let her stay as long as she wanted to.

"We're here,"

Rory turned her head from looking out the window to him, and stifled a yawn. "We're there?"

"Yeah," he nodded. They got out of the car and Rory looked up at the dark building they were standing in front of. "Welcome to Truncheon's publishing house,"

"You came up with the name?"

"Yeah, I did,"

A small smile appeared on her face at his words. "London Calling," she said, and then walked up the stone steps to the door.

--

As he gave her the tour of the office and apartment, he could't help but to notice that she was fidgeting with her wrists.

"Where are your co-workers?" she asked as they stood at the foot of the stairs.

"I don't know, they're probably out drinking,"

Later, he knocked on the bathroom door. "Rory, are you okay in there?" he didn't want to leave her alone too long, thinking she might to something. She opened the door, and he felt his chest tighten at the sight. She was dressed in boy shorts panties and a tank top that leaves her midriff bare. For the first time, he laid eyes on the scars on her arms and thighs, and it made him want to hold her and not let go until everything was okay.

"It was the only thing I could find, I was in a hurry" she said softly, eyes downcast.

"I can lend you a shirt of something if you want to..." his voice trailed off, and she nodded slightly.

"Yeah, thanks,"

He disappeared into his bedroom, and rummaged through his closet to find a shirt. He grabbed a long sleeved dress shirt and walked back to the bathroom.

"Rory?" He knocked softly on the door, and she opened it slightly.

"Thank you," she said, and gave a small smile.

"I figured you'd want something with long sleeves," he explained, and she nodded. She took it from him and then closed the door again. He walked back to the bedroom to change, stifling a yawn in the meantime. It had been a hectic 48 hours. His closet was open, and he thought about what to wear to sleep. He usually slept in his boxers, but it might make her uncomfortable, so he grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a wife-beater and put them on.

As soon as she heard his footsteps fade, she brought the shirt up to her nose and inhaled. His scent hadn't changed, and her brain flooded with memories. Slipping it on, she buttoned the tiny buttons one by one and looked at herself in the mirror. Strangely, she felt good knowing she was wearing his clothes.

He turned around when he heard her footsteps, and felt his breath hitch in his throat. The shirt was exactly long enough to cover her most private areas, but left her legs bare.

"It looks good on you," he said, a small smile playing across his lips. She smiled self-consciously, fidgeting with the sleeves. "You can have th bed, I'll go set up the couch."

"I can't kick you out of your own bad; I'll take the couch,"

"No, it's okay," he argued back. "You just call if you need anything," he turned around and started to leave, but her voice stopped him.

"Jess?"

He turned around, "Yeah?"

"I need you," she said simply. "Could you...stay here?"

He looked at her for a moment, and then nodded. "Sure," he waited for her to get under the covers first, and then followed her. To give her the space he figured she needed, he made sure that he wasn't touching her. But when he noticed the heartbroken look on her face, he reached out and touched her arm.

"Hey, you wanna talk about it?"

She looked at him, and her eyes spoke of doubt and fear. "Could we turn out the light? I'd feel more comfortable,"

"Sure," he got up and turned off the light before crawling back into bed. He could make out her silhouette as his eyes adjusted to the dark, and waited patiently for her to begin.

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