Author's Note- This was the chapter that inspired the entire fic, and the one I wrote first, ironic as that may seem. But I'm a sucker for this kind of stuff, I guess. And honestly, the Jess/Luke father-uncle/son-nephew bonding scene at the end is pretty much my favorite part of this chapter. Then again, I love the relationship between those two. They're hysterical.

3. Carry You Home

"A distant light, sometimes a foghorn in the night
Is your reminder you were just a child when you knew
That you needed someone to prove you wrong
But you didn't know it would take so long..."

-Jupiter One

Jess stared for a long moment, hardly recognizing her. As he looked at her, his well-worn, badly-patched heart broke a little more.

Rory's eyes were bloodshot, and her hair was matted. She looked so thin, as if she hadn't properly eaten in weeks. There was a stain on the front of her sweater, and she was staring into what appeared to be a gin and tonic with the kind of drifting intensity of someone who was extremely hammered.

For a ridiculous moment, he nearly lost his nerve for the stupidest of reasons- he didn't want their first meeting after a year and a half to be when she was flat-out drunk. But when the relief of having found her washed over him, the butterflies in his stomach passed. They were replaced with a horrible ache when he saw her state. It wasn't just her roughed-up appearance; she just looked broken. That glow that had always defined her was gone, and she seemed small and sad and alone.

He approached the little table where she sat. She barely noticed him. It wasn't until he said "Hi, Rory," in the softest tone he possessed that she even looked up.

Despite the obvious imbibing which she'd partaken of recently, her recognition of him was instantaneous. "Jess," she said- or rather, slurred. "What're you doing here?" She got to her feet and swayed a little. His hand on her elbow steadied her, and she giggled a little. "Whoopsie," she mumbled. "I guess I had a lil' more than I thought."

"Rory, where have you been?" he asked. "Everybody's been really worried."

She hiccuped. "Couldn't go home," she slurred, and her eyes met his with a bluntly honest, terrified expression. "Couldn't go back to Grandma's. So I got a hotel."

Jess hated seeing her like this, scared and alone and broken down. "You look awful, Ror," he said, the nickname slipping easily from his tongue as if no time at all had passed. "Have you been eating?"

She shook her head. "Not much. Didn't wanna use my credit card," she said. "Didn't want anybody to find me."

"Why didn't you call anybody, at least to let them know you were alive, for god's sake?"

"Everybody hates me," she whispered. "Been so stupid, Jess."

"Nobody hates you," he assured her, unconsciously reaching for her hands as he said it.

"Yeah they do," she said, staring at the hands that he now held. "Specially you."

He shook his head. "No, Rory, I could never hate you."

"I was awful to you," she said quietly, and tears began to well up in her eyes. Jess sighed inwardly. It figured that she would be a weepy drunk. He'd never had much tolerance for people who got smashed and then started crying over all their ills. But once again, this was Rory. He'd make the exception for her.

"I deserved it," he assured her.

"Why are you here?" she asked, swaying again.

Jess squeezed her hands. "I came to find you," he explained. "I'm here to take you home."

Panic stole over her face, joining the tears that were coursing silently down her cheeks. "No, n-no, Jess, I c-can't!" she stuttered. "Please, I can't f-face them--"

"Shh," he told her sternly. "Come on now." He pulled gently on her hands, getting her to take a few faltering steps forward. It was a sign of just how far she'd fallen and how lost she felt that she simply allowed him to tow her along, desperate for any guidance in her shattered, confused state.

But as she tilted dangerously to one side, he realized she had drunk too much to walk properly. "Oh Rory," he sighed. "Here." He pulled her left arm over his shoulder, while slinging his right arm around her waist to support her. He realized that she was even skinnier than he'd realized at first- the sweater had concealed just how much she'd shrunk. She wasn't dangerously thin, but her obvious lightness terrified him. Unconsciously, he held her a little tighter.

As they passed the bar, he called out to the bartender. "Hey, how much does she owe?"

The mousy little man shrugged. "'Bout forty," he said. "She stopped paying by the glass a couple hours back."

Jess glowered at him. "And you let her keep drinking?" he demanded.

The man shrugged again, and Jess restrained the urge to give the irresponsible bastard a piece of his mind. Pulling out his wallet one-handed, Jess threw a couple of twenties at the man and supported the staggering Rory out of the smoke-filled establishment and into the clear night. As he unlocked the silver Regal and helped settle her into the passenger seat, he noticed that tears were still running silently down her face.

Hesitantly, he brushed his hand against her cheek, taking away the tear stains on his palm. "It'll be okay now," he promised. She nodded silently, blue eyes huge and trusting and impossibly childlike despite the situation he had found her in. It stirred up an unfamiliar desire to protect her, to keep her safe from a world that had clearly shown her its uglier side since he'd been away. His own instincts frightened him, and he abruptly pulled his hand away. It was a complete reversal of how he'd always felt around her when they were kids- he'd wanted to open her up and show her the world; now he just wanted to hide her from it so it wouldn't cause her any more damage.

"Let me know if you feel like you're getting sick," he said brusquely.

He walked quickly to the driver's side, got in, and started the drove for some minutes in relative silence, with Rory leaning her head against the glass of the window. Jess caught a glimpse of her face as they passed under a streetlamp, and her eyes were closed. He thought she had fallen asleep.

Then she spoke, in a barely intelligible whisper that proved she was very close to sleep. "Figures you'd be the one to find me," she said. "You always did know me better than anyone."

His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he digested her words.

Headlights streaming through their window woke Lorelai up. She sat bolt upright in bed, slapping absently at her fiancé's arm as she might have done to an alarm clock. "Luke?" she said softly. "Luke, wake up."

Grumbling, the diner owner sat up, shielding his eyes against the light. Simultaneously, the two of them rolled out of the bed, which had temporarily been relocated to the living room because of the upstairs renovations. Luke headed for the door, with Lorelai right behind him. He opened the door, with the intention of finding out what moron was shining his lights into their house at one in the morning when suddenly the headlights went out.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Lorelai heard a car door slam. Then she dimly saw a slight male figure approaching the house. When he emerged from the dark, she saw with a shock that it was Jess, and he was carrying...

Lorelai's heart jumped as she took in the sight of her unconscious daughter cradled in the most unlikely pair of arms.

"Oh my god, is she okay?" she whispered.

Jess gave a curt nod, and, momentary terror appeased, Lorelai took a moment to look at him intently as he passed her on the steps. She hadn't seen him since Liz's wedding, a year and a half ago, and though physically he didn't appear that much different, something in his air radiated a sense of calm she had never seen in him before. Studying his profile as they entered the house, she saw the tightly clenched set of his jaw and the hardness in his eyes as he concentrated on where he was walking, careful not to look down at the girl in his arms.

As he laid Rory gently on her bed, though, his focus slipped. He glanced down at her, and as his eyes fell on her face, they held a look of such absolute tenderness, he was almost unrecognizable as the angry boy she had once known. And it made Lorelai wonder.

"How did you find her?" she asked, once they were safely out in the living room with Rory's bedroom door closed behind them.

"Went to see your parents," he said tersely. "Took her picture to every bar in Hartford."

Luke smiled thinly. "Brave man," he said, referring to Jess' entrance into the Gilmore mansion

"Yeah, well, I found her. That's all that matters."

At his words, Lorelai crossed the space between them and hugged him tightly and without warning. "Thank you, Jess," she whispered. "Thank you for bringing my baby home."

When she stepped back, he looked a little stunned, but he nodded, a reluctant smile making its presence known. "Does this mean I'm forgiven for all my past crimes?"

"We'll see." Lorelai's voice was light and teasing, but as she cast a glance at Rory's bedroom door, her face fell.

"Go on," Luke urged. "Sit with her."

The elder Gilmore gave him a grateful smile and a peck on the lips, then she hurried away into the smaller room off the kitchen, pulling the door to behind her. Luke watched her go with a small smile on his face, but as she disappeared, it fell away as he sighed. "She'll really be okay?" he asked, turning to his nephew.

Jess nodded, staring intensely at nothing. "I think so," he said. "Probably have a killer hangover tomorrow, but I don't think she's done herself any permanent damage." He fell silent for some minutes and the two men simply sat there in the living room, Luke having sunk down on the edge of the bed and Jess perched on the arm of a chair. Luke could feel the coiled tension in his nephew and waited for the younger man to speak.

"You should've seen her, Luke," Jess said eventually in a low voice. "She's so thin..."

"Nothing me and Sookie can't fix in a few weeks," Luke said weakly.

Jess shook his head. "No, it's more than that," he said. "Something's... broken in her. She looked lost, like a little kid. I think the only reason I got her to come with me was because she needed something to latch onto. God, I found her in this shitty bar in a bad part of town, just sitting by herself and looking like... I don't know. I just don't." He drew a shaky breath, finding it difficult to maintain his composure. Hell, it was hard to breathe, thinking of her like that.

Another long moment passed before Luke spoke. "Jess, can I ask you something?"

"I think you just did," the younger man said wryly, observing his shoes closely.

He took a moment to smile briefly at the snarky edge that had never quite left his nephew, then looked at him again, all seriousness. "Do you still love her?"

Jess didn't speak, but he looked up to meet his uncle's gaze, and the painful, uncharacteristic openness in his eyes answered more clearly than words would have. Even to Luke, it was plain that his nephew was still wildly in love with the unconscious girl in the next room. The bizarre parallel to himself and Lorelai did not escape him.

"Huh."

They sat together in companionable silence for awhile, then Jess rose to his feet. "I should head over to the diner," he said. "Key still in the usual place?"

"Stay," Luke offered. "There's the couch, or there's a trundle bed upstairs..."

"Are you sure?" Jess asked uncertainly.

"Yeah," Luke replied.

Jess nodded, and made for the stairs. Before he could ascend past the first landing, however, Luke called out quietly, "Hey Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"She'll be okay."

Jess gave him the first genuine smile he'd worn since shortly after his arrival the day before. He nodded once, then hurried up the stairs.

A lot of you have added this to your Story Alert, and I'm very grateful for that, but I'd like to get some feedback, too! As a result, reviews will make the next update come sooner.