Author's Note- Okay, so I'm impatient and a review junkie and I posted a day early. So sue me, I'm sure you're all pleased. Consider it a late Easter gift or something.

I'm not entirely happy with this chapter. As much as I love Emily and Richard, I found them extremely hard to write, and I can't help feeling that their reactions to the "situation" aren't really that plausible. Richard, at least, would be more concerned, I think. There I go, sacrificing believability for the sake of the plot, which is something I swore when I first started writing that I would never do. Can you ever forgive me?

2. Fallen Angels

"I'm coming to find you if it takes me all night
Can't stand here like this anymore
For always and ever is always for you
I want it to be perfect
Like before
I want to change it all..."

-The Cure

Three weeks later...

Jess knocked on the door of the Crap Shack a little apprehensively. During his last conversation with his uncle, Luke had mentioned that he was essentially living with Lorelai now, so coming here was necessary, but that didn't make him any less nervous. He hadn't been here in over two years, and he was pretty sure that at least one occupant of the house still despised him. Rory might have forgiven him. That was how she was: given enough time, she would probably forgive anyone any crime. Lorelai, however, was probably still coming up with inventive ways to gut him without leaving any evidence. The fact that he was showing up at eleven o'clock at night probably wasn't helping matters. But that, he couldn't help: it had been a long drive from Philadelphia.

The prospect of seeing Rory was also weighing heavily on his mind. He wanted to show her all he had accomplished, prove to her that he was no longer the loser screw-up he'd been back when they'd been dating. Though she was bound to have moved on, a foolish part of him was hoping that maybe, just maybe, he'd get a second chance with her. He knew he was an idiot.

Only seconds after he'd rapped his knuckles against the frame, Luke flung the door open and made a shushing gesture with his finger pressed to his lips. "Jess, hey," he said in a near-whisper. "Come in. And be quiet!" His uncle ushered him through the house and then right back out onto the back porch.

When the kitchen door was safely shut behind them, Jess gave his uncle a wry look. "Not that I don't appreciate honing my espionage skills, but what's with the Mission Impossible routine?"

"Lorelai's asleep." In the glow from Babette's porch light, Luke's expression was hard to read, but the tightening in his jaw and the worried set of his brow tipped Jess off that that wasn't the extent of it. However, he chose not to pry for the moment. "So, what are you doing here, nephew?" Luke asked, clearly making an effort to keep his voice jovial.

A genuine smile spread across Jess' face. "I had to come to Connecticut on business. I thought I'd start off in Stars Hollow, come visit you."

Luke nodded. "Ah, yeah, the... uh... artsy place?"

"Truncheon, yeah. I, uh, actually have something to show you." Jess reached into his bag and felt around until his fingers touched the slender spine of a book. Pulling it out, he handed it to his uncle, who squinted at the cover.

"What's this?" he began, but as the words printed there became clear, his eyebrows shot up and something like a smile crossed his face. "You didn't tell me you were writing!" he exclaimed. "Why didn't you say you were writing a book?"

Jess shrugged. "Didn't want to make a big deal out of it," he said.

Luke grinned at him. "Jess, this is a huge deal!" he said, pulling him into a hug. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Luke," Jess said sincerely when they broke apart. "That means a lot. So, how have you been?"

The older man sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Uh... okay, considering."

A feeling of trepidation settled in his stomach. "Considering what?"

"Rory is... missing."

The bottom dropped out of his stomach and the trepidation pooled there ran out, replaced with a sense of helpless terror. "Missing how?" he demanded. "What happened?"

Luke leaned against the porch rail, looking very tired and much older than he really was. "Things have gone from bad to worse since you were here last," he said. "She and Lorelai had a... falling out. After Rory dropped out of Yale." He nodded in confirmation, noting the look of shock on Jess' face. "Yeah, I know. It's kind of a long story. Anyway, she was living with the Gilmores down in Hartford. I don't know the details, but it sounds like she and Emily had a blowout, and Rory moved out and no one's heard from her since."

Jess felt like he was drowning. "When was this?" he asked, and even to his own ears his voice sounded strained and panicky. Horrible scenarios were playing out in his head and he felt sick.

"That would be three weeks ago."

"Shit," he hissed under his breath, only barely resisting the temptation to hit something.

Luke nodded. "Lorelai's been a wreck. We called the police, but she's twenty, you know? She's legally an adult, so there's really nothing they can do, unless we've got proof of foul play."

"Shit," Jess said again. Cold fear was settling through him and he found it hard to stand still. There was no way he'd be able to stay here even another minute. He pulled the back door of the house open and stormed back through the kitchen, ignoring Luke's whispered call after him. He strode through the house and out into the driveway, where his uncle caught up to him just as he was pulling open the door of his second-hand Buick.

"Where are you going?" Luke demanded.

Jess gave him a look. "Hartford," he said shortly. Then he slid into the driver's seat of the car and slammed the key into the ignition.

The next day...

He'd been roving Hartford since midnight the day before, and it was nearing eleven p.m. now and still nothing. He had dropped in on the Gilmores earlier in the day, but that visit hadn't been particularly helpful...

A maid answered the door- typical, he thought- and showed him into a sitting room where the redheaded matriarch of the Gilmore clan was enthroned. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"Jess Mariano, Mrs. Gilmore," he said, as politely as possible.

Her eyes narrowed, apparently trying to place him. It took her several seconds, but suddenly her politely interested expression froze over and she glared at him. "Yes," she said primly. "I remember you. The thug with the black eye." Again, typical. People like her just didn't get over first impressions, did they? He would never have come back here if his life depended on it. Unfortunately, his life didn't depend on it, but Rory's might, and that was more than enough inducement.

He maintained as mild an expression as he could manage while his heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. "I like to think I've matured since then," he said in a tone that rivaled hers in coldness. Neither of them liked each other, there was no real reason to pretend that they did. "I'm trying to find Rory," he said.

"Well, she's not here," she replied tightly.

"Yes, I know," he said in exasperation. "No one's heard from her since you kicked her out. I was hoping maybe she would have contacted you."

Rising to her feet, she said, "We did not "kick Rory out." She got herself thrown out."

Perhaps it was the similarity to the words Luke had spoken to him three years earlier, or perhaps it was the self-assured, unaffected air she gave off as she said it, but Jess saw red. "Your own granddaughter is missing!" he shouted. "No one has seen or heard from her in three weeks, and you don't even care! What the hell is wrong with you? She could be hurt, or... or... I don't know, but she's gone and Lorelai's terrified and you're the last person who saw her! What's wrong with you that you don't even care that your own flesh and blood--"

At that moment, a tall, sere man entered the parlor, carrying a newspaper. Jess presumed him to be Richard Gilmore. "Emily?" he asked. "What's going on?"

She gave Jess a scathing look. "This... acquaintance... of Rory's burst in here demanding information about our granddaughter."

Jess turned to face Richard. "Do you have any idea where she might have gone?" he asked. "She hasn't contacted anyone since she left here three weeks ago."

Richard sighed, removing his glasses. "Young man, we are as worried about Rory as anyone, but short of hiring a private investigator, there's really nothing we can do."

"So why haven't you done it?" Jess demanded. "All her life she's been surrounded by people who would do anything for her! So why am I the only one doing anything when she really needs us?"

Richard lay a paternal hand on Jess' shoulder, which he immediately shrugged off. "I'm sure she'll turn up," Richard said. "She's a smart girl, she wouldn't get herself into any serious trouble. If she hasn't contacted anyone by tomorrow, I give you my word that I'll look into hiring someone to look for her."

It didn't make him feel better in the slightest. He nodded, though. "Thank you. I... don't you have any idea where she might go?"

Richard shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't. You might ask Logan Huntzberger- her boyfriend, that is. I haven't spoken to him, but he's the most likely one to know where she is." Emily opened her mouth, as though about to speak, then closed it abruptly and shook her head to clear away the thought.

Despite the fact that he had known Rory would probably have found someone new, the information that she had a boyfriend made Jess' blood boil. "Thanks," he said tersely. "I'll see myself out." He all but sprinted to the front door.

He hadn't been able to make himself contact Logan Huntzberger. He just couldn't put himself through that. Jess would do anything for Rory- anything but go to her new boyfriend to ask if he'd bothered to keep track of her as he should have. It was more emotional torture than he was willing to endure, even for her. So he was resorting to wandering around through various Hartford venues, showing people the picture of her he still carried with him in his wallet.

It was ridiculous. Who knew if she'd even remained in Hartford? She had cash, she could literally be anywhere in the world by now. But he had to start somewhere.

He was just giving up a dive bar on Keeney Avenue as a lost cause when a brunette huddled in a far corner caught his eye. Jess stared for a long moment, hardly recognizing her. As he looked at her, his well-worn, badly-patched heart broke a little more.

A/N2- And that's that. Please review, it makes my day.