AN: This starts off after Luke tells Jess to leave, since Jess says he won't be going back to school. Season 3, I'm not sure what episode. It's my first Gilmore Girls fic, so I hope the characterizations are okay, and I haven't written anything even remotely fic-esque in a while. I have no beta, so pointing out any errors I miss would be very much appreciated – just please be nice :)

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Jess stood staring at the wall after Luke stormed off. He was no longer welcome here -Luke had made that quite clear. At a time when everything in his life was going wrong, the one thing he'd thought wouldn't get messed up, had gotten messed up. And what was left for him? He couldn't go back to his mother, that much was obvious. His father? He had met him that day for the first time – he didn't even know where he lived. The only place left was Luke's, and Luke had just very officially kicked him out. Going over to his dresser, he shuffled around in the top drawer to find his wallet. Picking it up, he opened it and flipped through the cash – it wasn't much, but he figured it would do. He knew Luke wasn't going to be giving him anything anytime soon – or ever for that matter – but there had to be pay from Wal-Mart in his account. Maybe he'd give it to Luke, to get Kyle's parents off of his back. He owed him that much, for sure, and he wasn't going to be anyone's burden any longer – not his mother's, not his father's, not Luke's… not Rory's problem, either. He was done with all of it – no more New York, no more Stars Hollow, no more school, no more diner, no more Wal-Mart.

Pocketing his wallet again, he made his way out of the apartment, down the stairs, and out of the diner. He could hear someone shuffling around in the kitchen – must be Luke, cleaning up… or maybe venting frustration on some poor, unsuspecting waffle iron. He made sure to open the door slowly, trying to make the ringing of the bell as quiet as possible, and closed it softly behind him. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, wishing he had brought a jacket to block out the biting wind, but didn't dare going back to the diner to get it. The drug store was just down the street, and if he thought hard enough about what he knew he was going to do, the cold seemed insignificant, and dismissible, in comparison. It was late, and the streets were empty. He knew the drug store would be closing soon, so he picked up his pace slightly. He needed to get there in time. The store owner barely acknowledged him when he got there, but he paid him no heed and headed directly for the back of the store. Looking through the shelves, he picked out the biggest bottle of Extra-Strength Advil he could find. He knew Luke had a bottle at home, and he knew they rarely used it, but he didn't know…
He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He had run out of options – this was his last one. Thinking about what might just happen if he didn't think this through far enough wasn't going to help him. He put the bottle on the counter and pulled out the money to pay for it.

Having made his purchase, he left the store, and made his way back home – or the diner, or the apartment. Luke's apartment. It wouldn't do to keep thinking of it as home. It wasn't his home anymore, if it ever had been. He pushed aside the little part of his brain that kept bugging him that, yes, he had come to think of it as home. It was easier to pretend that he had never even considered the thought. It was just a place he had stayed. Not lived, because living kind of implied…other things. Other things he didn't want to think about.

Making his way through the diner, and up the stairs to the apartment, he noticed the light under the bathroom door. The shower was running, so that meant that Luke wouldn't be out for another five to ten minutes or so. He shoved the bottle into his bag, which, even after it had long been unpacked, still sat to the side of the dresser, as if it knew that this day – the day when he'd again be leaving – would come. Kicking off his shoes, he ignored the fact that he was still in his jeans, and climbed under the covers of the bed that he refused to admit to himself that he had come to appreciate – that he had come to take comfort in, to feel safe in. Jess Mariano didn't need some bed to feel safe. Jess Mariano had no sort of silly attachments to bed sheets and flannel-obsessed uncles and morning rushes in small-town diners. He didn't need any of it, and if it didn't want him, he didn't want it either. One more night, and he'd be gone for good, and it (not Luke, he refused to focus on Luke) would never have to deal with him again. He turned his head to the side, and closed his eyes, hoping that some sort of easy sleep would come to him soon, so he could stop thinking about the next day's morning. He'd deal with it when it came.

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So, there it is. I know it's short, but I will work on making the next chapters longer. Any corrections are appreciated. Please review!