June 2005

"Hey!" Rory said as the door to Jo's dorm room swung open. "I come bearing Red Vines and movies." She held up a stack of DVD cases and a bag of candy with a smile. She was happy to see her friend. Or, as happy as she got these days, anyway. She didn't have much to look forward to in her life at the moment, but a movie night or lunch with Jo at least gave her a brief reprieve from having to focus so hard on just trying to survive. And even though they'd only known each other a few weeks, what they had gone through together in just that short time had created a bond that made Rory feel like they'd known each other forever. It didn't replace the entire life she'd left behind, but it was something—just one tiny thing to cling to—along with the life growing inside of her. It was what kept her putting one foot in front of the other when most days doing so felt like a pointless endeavor.

Jo took the movies as she ushered Rory in. "Romeo and Juliet…Ten Things I Hate About You and…" She looked up at Rory with confusion on her face. "The Lion King?"

"Yep." Rory popped her 'p.'

"A—just how long were you planning to hang out here, because I have class in the morning. And B—this is a very random movie selection."

"Umm, no it's not," Rory informed her, taking a seat on an electric blue beanbag chair in the corner. Her feet were killing her from working all day. All she wanted to do was sit down, pig out, and mock movies. "This is a movie night. Every movie night must have a theme. And this one just so happens to have two."

Jo glanced down at the movie selection again, her brows furrowing in contemplation. It took her a few seconds, but before long her head popped up again, her eyes rolling at her own obtuseness. "Shakespeare," she said. "They're all based on Shakespeare. Though in my defense, I'm a biochem major. Trying to read Shakespeare is more painful to me than trying to memorize the Kreb's cycle."

Rory gasped. "How can you not respect The Bard?"

"Because I can't understand The Bard," Jo defended. "At least Romeo and Juliet is the only one actually in old English and as far as I'm concerned, Leo could be speaking Pig Latin and I'd still want to watch him, so…" With a shrug of her shoulder, she pried open the DVD case, taking out the disc and examining the bottom for any major scratches before popping it into the player. She picked up the remote, grabbing two cans of coke from her mini fridge and handing one to Rory before plopping down on her bed. "What's theme number two?" She asked.

"Family drama, of course," Rory informed her.

"Of course," Jo laughed. "Because art imitates life."

"Exactly. And I thought it might help to have some fictional characters to commiserate with. I know I always feel better watching or hearing about other people's screwed up lives."

"That is a valid point," Jo concurred. This is how Rory knew Jo was her people. Not everyone could understand the Gilmore desire to revel in other's pain as a coping mechanism.

"Speaking of…how were things?" she asked her friend. "You know, with the family?" Jo was staying the summer in Boston to take summer classes and work as a lab assistant for one of her professors, but she'd travelled back to DC for a long weekend for her brother's birthday. She'd been nervous about going home so soon after her abortion, convinced that her family would somehow see her and just…know.

"It was fine. Sort of," Jo confessed. "Weird mostly. I've never lied to them like this. I mean, little white lies about where I was going on a Friday night, or how much I studied for my trig exam. But I've never kept something this big from them before. They were just acting like everything was normal and I felt like…"

"An imposter?" Rory finished for her. She knew the feeling. That last night with Logan on the yacht…the car ride home with her mother from the Bridgeport Police Station after the Coastguard caught up with them…it was like she was just pretending to be Rory; like she was some alien creature standing in front of them in a Rory suit and they had no idea that the person inside was just faking it. But she knew. She knew she was just playing a role—pretending to be the Rory they thought she was. Had it always been a costume? A part? A big ruse? Had she always just been pretending? Or had she, at one time, actually been that girl. Was it only after she got pregnant that she ceased to be the person they thought she was? The person she used to think she was? She had no idea. All she knew, was that she couldn't stand in front of them and put on a performance for even a second longer. So, she had two options; come clean and accept the consequences…or leave. She would have thought she was the kind of person who'd choose option number one, but apparently that was just a lie she told herself too; because once she saw how Lorelai reacted to the news of her dropping out of Yale, she knew the consequences for the rest of it would be more than she could bare. So, option number two it was.

"Yeah."

"I get that."

"I know. It's just…facing them was so much harder than I thought it would be. I figured it'd be easy to just…I don't know…forget that it ever happened. But I wound up feeling like I was walking around with a scarlet A on my chest, just waiting for them to notice it. It's like, here, in Boston, surround by school and books, and my future, I know I made the right decision. But in DC, surrounded by family…"

"But you did!" Rory assured her. "You made the right decision for you."

"I don't know," Jo shrugged. "How can I be sure I did? How can you be sure I did when you…" Jo gestured vaguely to Rory's stomach with her right hand. "I mean, if having the baby was right for you, then maybe it was right for me too. And it was right for your Mom …right? I mean, you wouldn't be here if she'd done what I did."

Rory shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know, maybe she would have been better off…I mean, I didn't exactly live up to the expectations."

"You think she regrets having you?" Jo asked.

"Well, no, but… then again," Rory put her hands on her stomach, looking down at her belly where her child was growing. "She doesn't know. If she knew that she'd given up Harvard and the rest of her dreams to give me that life and I threw it away…"

"You didn't throw it away. You graduated high school. You went to Yale…"

"And I failed in spectacular fashion. And the worst part was, I didn't even realize it. I thought I was doing good. I thought I was making an impression. I thought I was going to get offered a summer job. And it turns out, all the while, I didn't have it. I wasn't destined to be the next Christiane Amanpour, I was destined to be the next…" Rory hesitated. She'd told Jo her real name before…or at least the one she really went by. But never the whole name. And sure, if she'd really wanted to, it wouldn't be hard to piece together who she was. There weren't a lot of female Rory's who went to Yale and worked on the paper. But still, this felt like another wall she wasn't sure she was ready to bring down. "The next…" she let out a tiny huff of air, then drew her lower lip into her mouth anxiously. "Lorelai Gilmore," she finally let the name escape.

"Who?"

"Lorelai Gilmore. My mom…me." Not that there was anything wrong with being her Mom. She'd eventually gotten her degree. She worked her way up to a good job and eventually her own business. She'd made a good life. But it wasn't the life that Rory was supposed to have.

"You?" Jo's nose scrunched up in confusion. Or maybe it was just the bubbles from the Coke she'd just taken a sip of. "You said your real name was…"

"It is. Rory is short for Lorelai."

Jo's nose scrunched even more; it definitely wasn't the bubbles. "How the hell is Rory short for Lorelai?"

"Umm, well…"

"I mean, Lori, okay, I get it. But Rory?" She was waving her non-soda encumber hand around, her eyes gazing off into the distance as her rant consumed her in a freakishly familiar way that Rory tried her hardest not to pay attention to. "That just doesn't really jive. Unless maybe it started out as Lori but little toddler you couldn't pronounce it right and it somehow morphed into Rory? I guess that could make sense. Plus, now I have the image of you as a baby, toddling around and talking about yourself in the third person like a little Bo Jackson. 'Wahwy knows Wahwy,'" Jo mimicked in a baby voice.

Rory rolled her eyes in mild amusement at her friend's monologue. The lighthearted moment faded away and eventually the tension of their realities rolled back in, like the tide creeping up the sand, gradual, but quicker than expected, so that before you knew it, the water had engulfed the sandbar and you were standing up to your knees in the briny depths.

"I don't know," Rory finally said. "I don't know if you made the right decision. Or if I did. Or if my mom did. All I know is that just because something may have been right for me, doesn't make It right for you. And just because I made the same decision my mom made, doesn't mean that you should have made the decision your mom would have made, or wanted you to make. If being here, surrounded by school and books, it feels right, then it was probably right. Because this is where your future is. DC, you're family... they're a part of you, sure. They made you who you are. But was then; you're not a kid anymore. And now it's time for you to make yourself who you're going to be."

"Is that what you're doing…by running away from home? You're making yourself who you're going to be."

Rory shrugged. "I'm not sure what I'm doing. Or who I'm going to be. Honestly, I'm not even sure who I am…or ever was. And until I know that…" until she knew that, she would remain unmoored, ready to be dragged out to sea when the tide ebbed again, or maybe left to wash up on shore like an abandoned row boat. Would she ever find her anchor? Was it growing inside of her? Or had she left it behind in Stars Hollow?

Jo didn't respond, just sat quietly for a minute, letting the words sink in before she picked up the remote and pressed 'play.'

December 2005

Jo could still recall the panic she'd felt when she'd called her friend last night to check in on her, only to have an unfamiliar voice answer the phone. It turned out her panic was not unwarranted. She knew Leigh had been working herself too hard, stressing herself too much, punishing herself too harshly. And on top of the stress her body was already under carrying an almost full-term pregnancy, it was no surprise she had wound up in the hospital.

Jo had tried to help her as much as she could…looking into social services that could help support her, calling and checking in, running the occasional errand. But there was only so much she could do; she was just a college kid trying to get through finals.

So, the truth was, when the woman on the other end of the line had introduced herself as Leigh's mother, Jo's panic had been replaced by a flood of relief. She knew Leigh was avoiding her family for a reason. And she knew her primary concern should be her friend's health, but for as much of a crutch as she and Leigh had been for each other these past six months, a medical emergency of this magnitude was a burden she didn't think she could take on herself. Leigh needed her family. She might not want them, but she needed them. And Jo did too; she needed someone to be the adult here so she didn't have to be.

Was she a terrible person for being happy about this?

Maybe, but there were some other perks to this turn of events too. Like finally getting to meet the infamous Logan. She glanced to her left, letting her eyes rove over the man leading her through the parking garage as inconspicuously as possible. Smart, rich, romantic and hot? God really did give with both hands sometimes. In fact, Jo might need to convert to Hinduism because it looked like Vishnu was giving with all four hands to this guy.

"So, you're Logan."

Logan rotated his head to look at her in confusion. "Well yeah, we met upstairs like an hour ago."

"I know, I'm just saying…you're Logan."

He let out a little chuckle as he led her around a bend to level C. "And you're Jo."

"I've heard a lot about you."

Logan stopped walking, just a step in front of her. His chest expanded with air for a moment, and then he released it. "I've heard a lot about you too."

"All naughty things, I hope," Jo joked with her trademark cheeky wit. From his sudden change in body language, she had an uncomfortable feeling things were about to get mushy. And Jo didn't do sentimental.

Logan turned around to face her, a maudlin look on his face. "Thank you."

She felt her insides twitch as the words washed over her. She squirmed awkwardly under his penetrating gaze. Why did compliments always make her feel like she had bugs crawling under her skin? "For what?" she tried to shrug it off.

"For everything," He said. "For helping her out. For being her friend. She needed someone—though her stubborn ass would never admit it—and you were there for her even though you didn't have to be."

But she did have to be. When she'd seen that frightened, lost girl in Planned Parenthood all those months ago, she'd seen herself. Alone, pregnant, no one to turn to. And as she sat in that waiting room, gathering the strength to end all the prospects, the future, the possibilities of the potential life growing inside of her, she felt the unrelenting impulse to do something. She couldn't be a mother. She couldn't give a baby what it needed. She couldn't help the unwanted embryo taking up residence in her uterus. But she could help that girl. And in turn, she'd gotten more than she could have ever hoped for. She'd gotten a best friend; someone she could confide all her deep, dark secrets to.

But Jo couldn't say all that. It was a truth that could only exist inside of her. And so, what she said instead was, "Leigh? Stubborn? Never!"

"Seriously," Logan said, affixing her with a stare that said he knew what she was trying to do and he wasn't going to let her. "I don't know if she would have made it through those early days without you. If she would have made a different decision about…" Logan took a deep, shuddering breath. It was an ironic statement, considering Jo had made a different decision; considering she had originally thought Rory should make a different decision. But he didn't know that. And even if he did, deep down, beneath Jo's pathologic discomfort with emotional praise, she knew what he meant; having a friend, a place to live, a job…all that made it easier for her to move forward with her pregnancy. "You saved her…them."

Jo relented herself to the fact that they were having this conversation, but she was still keen to get it over with as quickly as possible and evade more unwanted praise. "We saved each other," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Well still, thank you," he repeated.

Jo shrugged awkwardly and there were a few seconds of silence before Logan mercifully turned and continued the trek to his car. He led them straight up to a silver Porsche 911 Carrera S. It was a sight that was beautiful to behold. Her eyes drank in the pristine exterior; the sleek lines, the big, beautiful headlights, the Porsche logo. She stood, gawking like an idiot as he used the key fob to unlock the masterpiece.

He started to get into the car but noticed that she wasn't following. "You coming?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," she informed him. "I just need a minute to complete this car induced orgasm I'm having."

"Wow," Logan chuckled. "Okay, well, by all means, enjoy it while it lasts because it's getting traded in for a Honda or a…Volvo or something first chance I get. And I'm told Volvos don't typically have that affect."

Jo visibly cringed. A full body cringe, where your abs contracted as though you'd literally just been kicked in the gut. "That hurts my soul," she grasped her chest then let out a resigned sigh. "Though I suppose not as much as the thought of baby puke on that sweet, buttery, Italian leather interior."

Jo took her time climbing into the vehicle, savoring every moment of it. There was an elegant simplicity to the interior of the vehicle, despite its numerous controls. She was fairly certain she let out an audible moan as her butt landed in the surprisingly spacious passenger seat. "I would kill for this car. Literally. You need to watch your back, because I might pull out a shiv and stab you in it, then take the keys and run."

He put the keys in the ignition and the engine turned over with a purr. "You might want to wait until we get there," he suggested as he backed out of the parking space. He was participating in the banter, but she could tell his mind was distracted. Not that she could blame him for that. "Because they haven't come out with a passenger seat co-pilot feature yet."

"But you wouldn't expect it while you were driving, so I'd have a better chance at…" she trailed off as a sudden warmth started to emanate from beneath her, filling her with a tingly sense of serenity…like that first sip of coffee in the morning. "Oh my god, heated seats."

Logan reached out and turned on the CD player, letting some white boy rock music fill the air. A silence settled over them as he navigated them out of the parking garage onto the streets of Boston, headed for Rory's apartment. They were packing up some of her things for her to take with her back to her mother's house.

The tension in the car seemed to increase as they drove down Charles Street. Jo tried to focus on the view of the Charles River out her window, but she found herself stealing glances of the brooding man to her left. Damn her for feeling sorry for the privileged white boy with the car that cost more than four years of her college education. Then again, he was getting rid of the car, which meant he probably wouldn't be rich for long—if he still was. But even eschewing his wealth, he was still privileged. He'd be going out into the world with an ivy league degree and no debt. He'd grown up with the best of everything. He'd travelled. He had experiences and contacts in the business world that he would take with him. He had his name and his looks, and his 'good breeding'. Even without money, he had more advantages than Jo could have ever dreamed of.

But for as different as their lives were, for as privileged as he was, he was still a human, with human emotions, whose pregnant girlfriend was sick, and whose parents would abandon him for sticking by her. And so yeah, she felt sorry for him.

"They're going to be okay," she offered the canned words of comfort, not knowing what else to say. Was she reminding him, or herself? Probably a bit of both.

He nodded silently.

"The doctor said she's responding well to treatment and now at least she has her Mom to take care of her."

"Right," he nodded again, his voice flat. "Her Mom."

"Is that bad?" she cringed. "I mean, I know she was obviously avoiding her for a reason, but I thought…I mean, it seemed like it was a happy reunion…" No reply. "Her Mom's not like…"

"No," he responded, cutting her off before she had to ask the question. "No, of course not. It's good…that Lorelai knows. That her family knows. They're good people. She didn't leave because of anything bad. She just…" he shook his head, keeping his hands on the wheel and his eyes straight ahead. "She didn't want to disappoint them. She doesn't like to disappoint anyone, but her family especially…Lorelai especially."

"I get that…I don't think anyone really wants to disappoint their parents."

"Yeah, well," he shrugged. "I'm pretty used to it by now, so…"

She didn't really know what to say to that. Denying it just seemed condescending. She knew nothing about this man or his relationship with his parents. Nothing except what Leigh had told her, which was enough to know he more than likely wasn't just being self-deprecating. "I'm sorry," she settled on.

Logan gave her a glance out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah, well, whatever. I don't need them. They were barely even parents to begin with. Just some overlords who paid the nannies. I rarely even saw my Dad outside of a boardroom."

They were quiet again for a few seconds, but the tension that hung in the air was too much for either of them and Logan broke first. "Anyway, you're right. It's good. Lorelai will take good care of her. And they can have some time to…reconnect." The last word came, stilted, almost pained, belying his assertation that it was good.

"You sound real convincing there."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't want her to go home. Why not?" Should she be worried? Was there something about Leigh's family that she needed to worry about? Or was this a him thing?

"Of course I want her to go home. I've been telling her for months to go home. To fix things with her family."

"And yet you don't want her to go home."

He took a deep breath, his hands tightening on the wheel as he pulled off Huntington Street onto Leigh's block. His distant, disaffected demeanor was starting to give way to agitation, though he was doing his best to reel it in.

"I want her to go home." A pause. The strain in his shoulder's released in defeat, and his whole body seemed to sag into the seat. "I just…"

"Just what?"

Another deep breath, his shoulders stiffening again. "Nothing," she shook his head. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is what's best for her and Samuel."

They pulled into a spot a half a block away from Rory's building and Logan shut off the ignition, though neither of them moved to get out of the car.

"What's she like?" Jo asked.

"Lorelai?"

"No, Rory."

"What do you mean?" he looked at her, his eyes baffled. "You're her best friend."

"No," Jo shook her head. "I'm Leigh's best friend." She was sure there were some similarities between the two, but they weren't the same. The woman she knew was running away not only from her family, but from herself. The woman she knew wasn't the same person as she used to be. And that meant she might not be the same person as she was about to be. And if Jo were honest, that scared her a bit. Because Leigh returning to her old life would probably mean returning to her old self. And what if that self wasn't compatible with Jo? What if Rory Gilmore wasn't the best friend she could tell anything to? What if she had better things to do, and better people to be friends with?

"She's…" Logan's head turned to look forward again, his eyes getting that wistful, romantic look that she thought was just from the movies, "…a series of contradictions. She's bold and outspoken but somehow also shy. She's kind, but judgmental as hell and never misses an opportunity to mock others who don't conform to her standards. She's a go-getter, but also a people pleaser. She's serious but frivolous. She's a perfectionist and she's laidback. She's a practical dreamer. She's also brilliant and uncompromising and strong willed and when she believes in you, she makes you think anything is possible." He let out a sigh, sinking back into his seat his face still disgustingly dreamy.

"Ugh, I'm sorry I asked," Jo replied, only half kidding.

Logan, now broken from his Rory daze, glanced over at Jo, his eyes lingering just for a minute, taking in the features of her face. "She's not that different," he told her. "She tried to be…different. To stop planning, to stop caring. But she is who she is. She was the same Rory, just a little lost. But just because she's finding herself again, doesn't mean you're going to lose her now. She needs you."

God, he was annoyingly perceptive. It was probably those damn reporter genes. Well, Jo might not come from a long line of journalism royalty, but she was perceptive too. And she could see his worry just as clearly as he could see hers. "She needs you too."

"Maybe," he said, finally reaching for the door handle and pushing open the door. He was turned away from her, one foot out of the car. "Or maybe she just needs her Mom."

AN: So this chapter was not really part of the initial plan, and I know it might feel a little filler-ish. But actually, it turned out to be so necessary. Besides just not wanting to forget about Jo, this chapter touched on SOOOO many of the overall themes of this story. And of course, one of the major subplots that is more important than ever, given the current state of things in the US. I actually really love this chapter despite the lack of Rogan interaction or explosive family reveals. It's slow, and sweet, and melancholy-maybe occasionally veering a little too far into maudlin. But it's also deep and meaningful. So anyway, I hope you can enjoy it for all that it is and I promise more action next chapter.