"He's my nephew. I had an obligation to take him in, I had an obligation to care for him." Luke to Lorelei, season 2

.***.

Some people in Stars Hollow were naive. They saw a JD like Jess, with a chip on his shoulder, and wrote him off. Don't let him date your daughters. Don't let him befriend your sons. He's from New York, that big bad city. He's pissed about moving to a small town. Grab the torch. Don't forget the pitchfork.

Luke defended his nephew out of familial protectiveness, but also because he knew Liz, he knew Liz after she moved away from the small town and got knocked up and stopped caring. He suspected that Jess was more hurt, more broken, then he let anyone in the town know.

Case in point: when Jess was eight, serious and skinny, he'd visited Luke for a week and they went camping. Jess caught a fish five minute in, and he had reeled it back in only to have it slap him, squirm, flap back to the lake. Luke had sworn loudly, and Jess started stammering apologies. "I'm sorry," he kept saying, over and over again, minutes later, hours. "I'm sorry Uncle Luke. I'm no good at fishing. I'm useless. I'm too stupid for camping."

Luke had growled, sharply, "Stop saying that," and Jess had closed his mouth, swallowed hard.

And Luke had looked at this kid, who was looking at his shoe and trying very hard not to shake, and he'd known, he'd known like he knew his father was dead, and his sister was gone, and the woman he loved had a little girl just about Jess's age. Whatever was happening to Jess back in New York was very Not Good. So he'd gone back to the diner and called his sister and said that Jess was spending another week, two, why doesn't he just stay the whole summer? They'd gone camping a lot. Jess had been little and easy, and though he'd been serious, too serious, he would smile sometimes and he started wearing baseball caps backwards and he played with the local kids, with little shy Rory and little loud Dean, and though they all appeared to have forgotten Luke remembered the glorious summer before his sister called and wanted to pretend to be a mom again.

He hadn't seen Jess for years after that.

God, he should have done better by the kid. This was all his fault.

.***.

Jess was so tired and hurt so you'd think he wouldn't have enough emotional room to feel embarrassed on top of everything, but that was the first thing that registered when Luke walked in to see Carl slumped all over his body. Shame like a hot knife. Shame that cut through him and robbed him of speech.

For an instant they were frozen, and Jess was very aware of the fact that he was naked from the waist down, and Carl was in a similar state of undress. He was very aware that Luke was from a small town. He was very aware that he was a JD. What would this look like? A love affair? Could he possibly talk his way out of this one?

"Sorry," was the first word he could think of, squirming, trying to dislodge Carl who was out cold on his back, and huge, and Jess was a small guy, okay? And squirming was kind of painful. "Luke, please, I'm sorry."

"What the hell?" Luke said, starting forward, and his voice was loud as thunder.

"It's not what it looks like," Jess got out from under the body and looked for his pants but there was blood, god there was blood all over his legs because Carl was rough and Jess was small and all of it was so, so embarrassing.

"I don't know what this looks like," Luke said. He was looking at Carl. "Is he dead? What the hell happened?!"

Jess winced at the shouting. There were customers downstairs. He did not, did not, did not need anyone else in the town to know about this. "He's not-I hit him, okay? He was...I didn't...Please, Luke I'm so fucking sorry."

"For what?" Luke was somehow not shouting now, maybe he remembered the customers too. "Jess? What's going on here?"

Jess took a deep breath, all ready to explain everything, starting from when he was little and used and going to when he's old and still stupid enough to be used. He looked at Luke. And burst into tears.

.***.

Luke had no idea what to do. Jess didn't cry. He was that kid with a smirk that lived permanently in the corner of his mouth. He was the guy in the back of the classroom who was labeled as dangerous. He was the little kid, calling himself useless for not being able to fish on the first try.

Jess still hadn't put on pants, seemed constitutionally incapable, and for the first time Luke forced himself to look at his nephew, to really look, to assess the damage. There were bruises. There was the blood running down the leg. There were the deep pockets under the eyes and the thin look to the cheeks and neck and collarbone. He should be fired. Jess had told him that so many times this week. He hurt Rory.

But, apparently, to nowhere near the amount he'd hurt Jess.

Jess was still crying, and Luke took two big steps away from him, towards the telephone. "What?" Jess's voice was low and thick with tears, "What are you doing?"

"Calling the police."

"I didn't mean to!" Jess blinked a lot and took a couple of deep breaths and reached for the phone and then drew his hands back, suddenly, very aware of himself. "Please, Luke, he was-he was hurting me. I know, I know everyone thinks I get into all these fights but I just-I couldn't take it." Jess looked over his shoulder and winced. "I think he's still alive. I just wanted it to stop."

"Hey," Luke put the phone down and grabbed Jess one of his sweatshirts, several sizes bigger than the thin teen, and he draped it over Jess. It went halfway to his knees, and some of the shaking stopped. Jess was still taking big gulping breaths, like he couldn't get enough air. "I'm calling them to come arrest Carl, not you. Hey," he touched Jess's shoulder, then his other one, forced the kid to look at him. "I believe you. You did nothing wrong."

For thirty long seconds Jess just tried to pull himself together. He leaned into Luke's touch and gulped in big breaths and shook his head. Every once in a while the old Jess mask would slip on, and everything would look normal, and then his face would crack and he was crying again. Luke let this happen. He kept an eye on Carl. If the man regained consciousness before the police arrived Luke would kill him, plain and simple, and he wouldn't even feel bad about it.

This man had hurt his boy.

"Please don't call the police," Jess finally said, his voice too too small when he finally managed to speak. "I can't tell them what happened."

"Why don't you tell me," Luke said.

Jess looked over his shoulder at Carl and Luke cupped the back of his nephew's head, making sure he couldn't turn all the way around. "Don't worry about him. I've got an eye on him. He won't hurt you again. I need the facts here, kiddo. I need," It was Luke's turn to take a big breath. "Just tell me what's going on."

"I'm pathetic," Jess said, "I'm so pathetic, or this wouldn't have happened again."

Again?

"Carl is Liz's boyfriend," Jess said. He was talking fast, and seemed to be trying to bury himself in Luke. He kept inching closer, leaning into his touch. "Was. Is. I don't know. He used to be her drug dealer. If she couldn't pay he's ummm...he's use me. As payment. With a lot of guys. Then I guess he came up to New England and decided he could do it all over again." He chanced a glance at Luke. "Pathetic."

Luke's hand closed into a fist and there was anger in him, anger in his belly and his eyes and his heart, directed at Liz and Carl and those men who had used a younger more defenseless Jess. But he couldn't let that out now, not with his stoic nephew in his arms ready to break, and who knew if anyone could pick up the pieces. "Not pathetic. Look at me, Jess." And Jess looked. His eyes were so wet and he kept blinking the tears away, trying so hard to be grown-up. "What did he do to you this time? How hurt are you?"

"It's-I've had worse."

"I would like it if you went to the hospital." Luke said this lightly, like Jess had a choice in the matter. Luke knew everyone in town, including a discrete, quiet man who was an accomplished veterinarian. Teenage boys were not dogs, but the man would know something. Luke was already trying to remember the man's name, already placing the call, because he expected Jess's answer.

"No," Jess said, "Please. No."

That's when two things happened: Carl started to move, and the door to the diner and the outside world opened.

.***.

Dean had never walked into a weirder scene.

Luke's apartment was finished, though there was still that plastic crap on the floor that came with renovations, so there was space where a wall had been. Even weirder, Luke was hugging Jess, and neither one had ever been a tactile person. Worse, Jess was half naked. Worse worse, there was a half-naked man (the construction worker, some knowledgeable part of Dean's brain supplied) on the bed. And he looked like he had a bad head wound.

Luke looked between Dean and the construction worker and it was like he was working out the answer to a hard problem. "Dean, go clear out the diner. As fast as you can. Say it's an emergency."

"There's no one there," Dean said, dumbly, "I came up here to find you-Caesar's gone, and it's all deserted, but the door's still unlocked."

"Then take Jess downstairs and lock the door and close the blinds and don't come back up here for anything. No matter what you hear."

"Uncle Luke," Jess began, but Luke was already pushing the half-naked guy into Dean's arms.

Jess looked even worse than he had the night before, when Dean had thought Luke was hitting him. Okay, that sounded like an absurd theory now, but Dean had been half-right. Everyone assumed he wasn't bright because he was nice and because he was dating perhaps the most intelligent girl on the planet, but Dean had a lot of common sense, and a lot of intuition, and knew that something bad had happened between Dean and the guy on the bed.

And Jess must have been pretty out of it, because he didn't start protesting until they were downstairs. He hung in the doorway while Dean closed the blinds and locked the door because, hello, naked, but by the time Dean came back over he was looking over his shoulder back at the apartment. "Luke shouldn't be alone with him."

"Luke can take care of himself," Dean said, "Besides, that guy looked like he was already hurt."

Dean didn't know that there was an expression that read guilty until that moment, when Jess turned red under the paleness and looked away and pursed his lips, and everything was confirmed.

"Hey man," Dean said, and it was like he was talking to Clara, he used that same voice, that same gentleness, because Jess was like a wounded dog ready to lash out. "Why don't you sit. Can you-I mean, if it doesn't hurt."

Jess looked down at his legs. There was blood coming from him in little rivulets, and Dean didn't want to think about where the blood was coming from, but of course he knew. "Yeah," Jess said, after a too-long moment, "Sitting will hurt."

There was a loud noise from the apartment and Dean didn't even think. He took two steps so he was between the apartment and Jess, putting the injured teen behind him.

"My hero," Jess said, and at least he had some of his snark. "I'd punch you if I could move my arm. I'm not a fucking damsel in distress."

"Sure look like one to me."

Jess glared, the effect rather diminished by the livid bruise over his eye, and thank God that was the moment that Luke opened the apartment door and started coming downstairs.

"What happened?" Luke and Jess asked at the same time. Jess shot his glare at his uncle, repeating, "What happened?"

"I might have knocked him out again."

"Not dead?"

"Against my better judgement," Luke growled, and Jess flinched, and even Dean flinched because this was Luke who was like one of those Halloween candies that was hard on the outside with a gooey center, and Dean had never seen him like this, like the wrong word would make him destroy a mountain. "What happened down here?"

"Dean was feeling especially heroic," Jess said, "Though I think it was just overcompensation for the feelings he's getting in his private parts, getting a look at my awesomeness out in the open like this."

Now it was Dean's turn to glare, but before he could get any words out Luke was reaching for the phone and Jess was having a minor conniption. "What are you doing?"

"Calling the police! In case you haven't noticed, there's a rapist knocked out in our apartment!"

Dean winced at the word, and Jess gave him a look that could have meant anything in the world. Not like Dean wasn't guessing it was something along those lines, but it just seemed so...out of place. Out of place for Stars Hollow, and for Jess, who was so tough.

"I can't," Jess swallowed, "I can't tell anyone. They won't believe me. I'm not some-I'm strong, okay? And I'm too old for this shit. And I should have fought harder."

"You don't deserve this, Jess," Dean said, and Luke and Jess looked at him like they'd been hoping he'd left, and Dean put up his hands. "Look, I don't even like you, okay? You look like crap. You look like someone's been beating the shit out of you for a week and you've been letting them. They'll have to believe you."

"It wasn't," Jess looked resigned, "It wasn't technically...you're right, I did let him. He said if I didn't..."

Luke looked like he wanted to punch something but was holding back. He was also looking at Jess like he'd kill the next thing that hurt his nephew. Dean had never had someone who would go to the ends of the earth like that for him. Not his mom or his sister or even, probably, Rory. He was everyone's protector, and in that instant he was jealous of Jess, which was stupid because the guy was looking for very broken right now. "If you didn't, then what?" Luke prompted.

"He'd hurt you," Jess said this part in a whisper. "God it's so pathetic, but I believed him because he said he'd hurt Rory too and then he did."

"He did what to Rory?" Dean roared, and he didn't know he could feel like this, go from 0 to 60 in a second, but if that guy had touched Rory like he'd obviously touched Jess...

"Calm down, Hercules," Jess muttered, "Your girlfriend's virtue is intact. He poked her. With a nail. A pinprick of blood."

"You told me to fire him after that."

"Well," Jess said, "I told you to fire a lot of people."

"God kid," Luke said, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"Me too," Jess said.

And, just because he didn't want to feel left out, Dean said, "Me too." And Jess and Luke looked at him. And even with a rapist in their apartment, even with Jess half-naked and bleeding, even with so many things left to be done, they all burst out laughing. Because sometimes it's either laugh or cry.

By the time Luke reached for the phone again, Jess was sobbing. Dean patted him awkwardly on the back and Luke ventured back upstairs for some sweatpants. "Hey," Dean said. Luke had been gone for a very long time, it seemed, or maybe time just slowed down so all the emotion could strip you raw, "it's going to be okay."

"Really?" Jess said, and he sounded like he was going to drown in his own tears.

Dean swallowed, hard. He had a lump in his throat, too. "Really," he lied, and waited with the other teen to see what was going to come next.

.***.

the end.

yeah okay dean's actually our favorite. yeah okay we kind of want dean winchester to come by and take this situation in hand. yeah okay that's the ending, and we'd love to know what you thought. it's weird. it's not really an answer. what the hell is the answer to this situation?

if you know the answer, please tell us.

peace and prosperity,

us