-o0o-

DuGray… Logan—DuGray?

Logan frowned, not quite understanding. Jess sighed. He had to say it again. He had to destroy the guy's life once again. He had to confirm his previous statement as true by repeating it, fleshing it out until it lost all potential of being a misinterpretation.

"Your real parents are the DuGrays. Local people, wealthy. I'm guessing you've heard of them?" Jess coughed. It was a raspy sound, sounding dangerously close to choking. He looked at Rory. "Didn't you once tell me about that guy, Tristin's strict parents, Rory? That military school or wherever you told me he got sent… All that; they were over-protecting him. They were traumatized after the loss of their older child. So who could blame them for being extra-careful with their next son?"

That sure would explain a lot, Rory thought. It did explain a lot. Tristin's parents had tried everything so as not to lose another child. They had put him on a leash; he had rebelled. Suddenly, a bigger picture unfolded in Rory's mind, enabling her to put everything in a new perspective.

"But why…" Logan faltered. Helplessly, he was looking from Jess to Rory. She couldn't help but feel for him. With his shoulders sagging, he stood there, his bewilderment evident, painful to watch. "I mean, how did you… How did you find out about all this? And—and"

Jess grinned a bloody grin, when a police officer walked over to the small group again and put a hand on both Logan's and Rory's shoulders. "You kids should give your friend some rest, okay? You can talk later. Why don't you two come with me, and we'll call your parents, huh? How's that sound?"

Logan's resulting dry laughter scared Rory, but she didn't say anything. She argued with herself whether she should take his hand, give him some comfort that way; yet she couldn't bring herself to do so. Instead, she hefted her gaze onto Jess's face again. She was too worried to smile, but he did.

"It's alright, Gilmore," he whispered. "You'll be fine…"

Rory was staring down at Jess, her expression inscrutable. Yet he could always read so much in that pretty face. Disbelief, anger, sorrow. "I'll be fine?"

And an all encompassing darkness…

-o0o-

Rory felt as if cotton was clotting her ears. She couldn't think. She could barely move. All she could do was watch the paramedics attending to Luke's nephew, and Logan standing and staring into nothingness. Eventually a policeman's voice entered her conscience, "The coroner just confirmed the man dead, Sir."

The man dead… No, Rory, thought; the man was dead. The man Jess had shot in order to protect her, he was dead. "Oh God," she exclaimed, grabbing Logan's arm unconsciously. Her eyes wide with fear, she stared up at him. "He's dead; the police will—"

"I'll take care of it," Logan said, slowly shoving Rory to the side. Briefly she wondered how he could still be functioning under the circumstances.

"But, Logan!" she called, digging her fingers deeper into his arm. Stopping in his tracks, he smiled down on her. Rory could detect the pain behind that expression, the deep hurt, and she made to touch his cheek. But Logan stalled her movement. "Don't, Rory," he said firmly, though not unkindly.

She held his gaze, inhaling through her nose in order to slow her breathing. If she had survived the episode in the closet, she wasn't about to panic now, afterward, was she? "Jess," she began, "has been in some difficulties before." It felt like she were admitting to her own problems with the law, not his. "If they find out that he…

"It was an act of self-defense, Rory. Nobody is going to press any charges." Good old Logan, he could be so reassuringly calm and rational if a situation demanded it. And this one did. To Rory it did, as finally the events of the previous night were catching up with her for real. She grabbed Logan's jacket lapels, closing her fingers into tight fists. She breathed in and out a couple times, before she knew she could look at him again. Unable to suppress a growing tremor in her voice, she said, "Jess shot this guy. The police will have to investigate his death. They'll interview him. He shot a man, Logan, I can't even begin to imagine what this might do to him. But—having to talk about it, reliving it all, recounting it…"

"I know, Rory. But it's going to be okay, you hear? It's going to be okay."

"But, Logan, I'm not sure Jess will be!" She stared up at him, suddenly feeling strangely shy as she amended, "Be okay, I mean." Frowning in thought, Rory took a deep intake of breath. "Look, Jess—he has been through so much; and I know you don't like him, but he is my friend; and I love him. Logan, you don't know him the way I do. You probably believe this whole tough guy attitude is the real Jess. But it's not. That he shot this guy? I don't know how well he's going to take that; I really don't. He's so… he's just way more vulnerable than you might think. I'm so worried the police might make it all worse by…," Rory's voice died in a whisper of air as she noticed the change in Logan's expression. It was the way he stared at her that had made Rory fall silent. All at once, his previous frown had been replaced by a strange look of understanding, or was it resignation? Maybe she was only imagining it, but she couldn't quite believe that. As the quiet sound of a soft and sad chuckle jolted Rory from her thoughts, her gaze met Logan's again. She sighed.

His voice was barely above a whisper, as he asked, "So, after all this time you still care about him so much?" He looked down at her and Rory held his gaze.

She could say, 'I don't know; care about him? That's maybe taking it a bit far.—I'm worried about, of course. I mean, we're… friends, so, yeah, I'm… worried. I guess…' or she could get offended. She could shout, 'What's wrong about that? Jess is my friend. It's what friends do; they care about each other. He is my friend.' Or a bit more dramatic, 'After all that happened tonight, you ask me a stupid question like that? Of course I do. Of course I care about my friend, who has been shot because of your messed up family. Of course I care about him and worry whether he will come out of it all right. Of course I care!'

What she did say, was nothing. Rory only let her head droop eventually, and fixed her gaze on a spot on her left shoe until her vision swam and there was no longer a spot to focus on.

When she lifted her head again, she noticed the young Huntzberger—who was no longer a Huntzberger but a DuGray—nod. He briefly pressed his lips together tightly, before he finally addressed her again. "Thanks for not lying to me, Rory. Actually, thanks for not saying anything at all.—Don't worry, I'll tell them it was me, okay? Then Mariano won't have to ever speak of it again if he chooses not to."

"Logan, no. You can't do that. I… I never meant for you to lie; for any of us. And you can't take the blame for something you didn't do!"

"Can't I?" Seeing Logan grin so sadly and knowing that he, too, had been through a lot during the last twenty-four hours, it panged Rory. Yet, she couldn't think of anything to say. One of Jess's snarky comments would have been welcome now, or Luke's pragmatism. But Jess was finally being carted off to the hospital. And Luke was unavailable.

Rory pressed her lips together, unable to say anything.

-o0o-

Ever felt like your whole life was nothing but a story? Up until the recent events Jess would have answered that particular question in the negative. Now though? Now he woke up to find out that his life's story even had its very own freakin' interstices. Blank spots forced his sluggish mind to come up with an interpretation of what had—supposedly—happened. (Of course. Could a Jess Mariano story ever be a sweet and simple thing, mapping out everything with perfect clarity? Exactly…). First, everything was only a blur. "…I mean, my mom—you know what she's like. I guess the two of you simply…" Then his eyes began to adjust. Jess's mind gradually followed. "…no real chance afterward, no matter what I said…" A sonorous whisper of words was filtering into his ears as he realized he was lying in a hospital bed. Wait, he thought, bewilderment setting in, before his mind had had any real time to become less clouded, less sluggish. There was something missing. How did he get there? What about the shooting, what had happened? He blinked and tried to turn his head a little, to take in this sudden change of events. "…can't leave me, Jess. Not now…" They had hooked him up to an IV drip, which at least didn't seem too surprising since they had previously done that. "…feelings are all muddled up because of this. I mean, should I even be feeling like this? About you? Maybe I'm not even really feeling what I think I feel. Maybe it's just because of the whole..."

Something was different than last time, though. For a moment it was all that mattered: the pretty brunette sitting by his side. Instead of his unlce, this time it was Rory Gilmore keeping him company.

"…I could never say any of this to you before—I don't know, maybe I was scared? You…" Jess still had difficulties interpreting her words, making any sense of what she was telling him—or telling a presumed unconscious version of him. "…get hurt again?" He should probably draw attention to his having regained consciousness. But listening to her talk enthralled him strangely. "Now everything is so messed up. Logan… is actually a DuGray, can you believe that? I mean; wow, that would make him Tristin's brother. I wonder how those two will get along…" Rory was laughing a short, humorless laugh, her hand around Jess's tightening. He tried to speak up, then. But his tongue refused its service. "It figures, don't you think? All of this: my boyfriend—or ex-boyfriend or whatever—is a DuGray It's not like there aren't some resemblances between him and Tristin—once you know about their actually being related. Still… God, Logan's going to need someone helping him sort out everything. I should really be there for him and—and… Yet I don't think I can do it… I don't…"

"Rory?" Jess eventually managed to whisper, but it was not much more than a breath, inaudible to the addressee. Still oblivious to him being conscious, the young Gilmore went on, "I mean, with you I've always known who you are. Of course you had the whole 'mysterious, haunted' teenager routine going for you. But I could see through that."

Rory was holding Jess's hand, absentmindedly stroking his fingers with her thumb. It seemed to be such a natural thing for her to do. He didn't in the least consider it awkward, and yet he couldn't quite believe that it was happening. Rory Gilmore was sitting there, waiting for him to wake up. She was holding his hand in hers. It was an incredibly small detail in relation to the jumble of events of the previous twenty-four odd hours. Yet in that very moment, Jess didn't think about any of that. He didn't think about his ordeal, or the story research that had brought all of it about. He didn't think about the man he had shot, or about what might be the consequences of that deed. For a few seconds he simply couldn't think of those things, because he had just gotten his very own love story cliché moment…

It felt so incredibly good.

He could have gone on listening to her whisper, but she turned her head eventually. She was in the middle of saying, "..guess I've never really stopped loving you…" when she finally noticed that he was awake. Weakly, Jess smiled, though a part of him was suddenly incongruously worried that she might pull her hand away now that she knew he was conscious. But she didn't. She kept holding onto his hand, squeezed it briefly, and smiled. Her cheeks suddenly flushed a bright red, as she stuttered, "Jess! You're—you—thank God you're awake!"

"Hey, Rory…"

Nervously, Rory swept a few strands of dark wavy hair out of her face and tucked them behind her ear. A displacement activity, Jess thought. He couldn't help smiling.

"You're awake."

"Yuh."

"You—have been… awake all the time?"

"Not all the time…"

"Long enough to hear me basically confess all my jumbled feelings for y—… Oh. My. God, I…"

"Rory…"

"I should call a nurse. I'm sure a doctor has to check in on you, I—"

With as much vehemence as he could muster, Jess hissed out her name once more. "Rory."

She looked down at him, frowning. With one hand she made to touch his cheek, but he tried to stop her, unsuccessfully. "You scared me, Jess Mariano."

Yeah, he thought. Scared myself there, for a moment. "I'm sorry. Rory…"

"Shh," she whispered, noticing how talking seemed to strain his strength. "Don't talk now, Jess."

"But… About that article, about Logan's family…"

"We can talk about that tomorrow."

There they were again, the blank spaces, clotting up, blocking out so much… He wanted to give the Huntzberger kid some closure, wanted to tell Logan why and how he had unearthed that family's secret. He wanted to tell Rory what had lent him the strength to escape. He wanted to tell her what it had been like, being captured, being mishandled, fearing for his life. He wanted to tell her what had made him hang in. He wanted to tell her what had made him call her of all people, once he had managed to escape. Too many interstices didn't help increase a story's quality. You had to use them thoughtfully after all, right? Don't tell too much, don't tell too little…

"We will talk tomorrow," Jess heard Rory whisper again. It sounded like a gentle sing-song lulling him to sleep. Wide-eyed, he stared up at her, into her beautiful face. (Don't tell too much…)

With an effort, he lifted his arm, touched her face with his hand, held it. He smiled. (Don't tell too little…)

"Glad I called you, Rory Gilmore…"

"I'm glad you called me, Jess Mariano…"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, then I'm guessing your world was in need of being unhinged after all, huh, Gilmore?"

"You're delirious, Jess. It's okay… A nurse is on the way; you'll be alright."

"I know. You're here."

His smile wavered as sleep was tugging at his conscience again. He felt Rory's gentle touch on his forehead, felt her fingers entwine with his. (If he were at all a fan of cliché-ridden stories—and hell, so what if he was?—he would have used that as a great sappy metaphor, their fingers entwining, just like their lives…)

"And not going anywhere, okay? Just you sleep now, and we'll talk tomorrow."

"Glad I called you…"

"I know, Jess."

"I was worried you wouldn't—you mightn't…"

"Ssh…"

"It's just… I love you, Rory Gilmore…"

He felt the soft warmth of Rory's lips on his before he finally fell asleep again. All worries, all pain were blanketed by sleep, and the knowledge of her being there with him. Tomorrow they could talk.

Tomorrow their story would continue…

-o0o-

This is where we'll leave these two for now. What happens next? I'll leave that to your imagination…

Thank you everyone for your great and helpful input. This is for you; you kept me going.