A/N: Hello, friends. This fic has been on my mind and in my soul for at least a few years now. I wanted to publish before the revival airs (because who knows where the canon will go now!), and it's finally ready to roll out, I think. Hope you like it. As always, reviews are magic! –Z

She slipped her arms easily around his neck and felt his encircle her waist. The charcoal gray of his suit felt stiff; she wondered if he'd had to buy it new.

"I came as soon as I heard," she said, still holding him close. "I'm so sorry, Jess."

He nodded against her shoulder. Rock solid, as always; no shaking or sobbing. He wasn't one to fall apart.

She stood back and looked around the cemetery. Luke looked so serious, but strong, too. Those two Danes men; they had more in common than they would choose to admit.

The priest began his speech, speaking of Elizabeth Danes in a voice so formal it was clear he had never really known her. Rory stole a glance at Jess, but he was staring straight ahead. She slipped her hand into his and felt him squeeze it back almost imperceptibly.

She was here. Whatever it was or wasn't between them, she was here. And he wanted her to be.

The wake was held at the diner. The whole town came together for it; for Liz; for Luke. Patti told stories of a young Lizzie dancing in her studio; knocking down the chorus line once with her incoordination. ("Two left feet, that one had," she said, "But never any lack of heart.")

Luke kept busy, refilling platters, pouring coffee. Lorelai helped where she could, staying close to him should he need her.

Rory was the only one who noticed when Jess slipped quietly behind the curtain. She debated whether she should give him space or follow him up; her latter instinct won out and she made her way up those familiar stairs.

He was sitting on the couch, an open book in his hands, but staring somewhere far off. He glanced up as she walked in.

She waited a moment, then asked simply, "What're you reading?"

He held up the book, David Copperfield. "Can't say I'm making much headway, though."

She smiled and sat next to him. She didn't ask how he was doing; didn't ask if he was okay. She just let them share space, hoping her presence would be enough, and leaned her head against his shoulder.

He sighed and began softly, "We were never close. She was an irresponsible wreck for most of my life." Her hand found his again, letting him know she was listening.

"I blamed her for a lot of things. Never really forgave her for most of it." His voice caught and he stopped for a moment.

"But she was really trying, you know? These last few years, with TJ, she really tried…" He trailed off. They spent the next few moments in silence, Jess remembering; Rory giving him space to.

"She knew, Jess. She loved you so much. She wouldn't want you to regret anything."

He sighed and closed his eyes. "Rory?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks for coming."

It had become a sort of pattern for them. It had started out as an accident. No, not an accident; and certainly not a mistake. More of a coincidence. Unintended, but not unwelcome.

That first time, Lorelai had been in the hospital. Luke had spent every moment by her side, and Rory had flown home as soon as she could manage. She'd tried to stay strong, but her thoughts were frenetic with worry and irrational hypotheticals. It had taken days for the doctors to diagnose the cause of the pain and fatigue. Eventually, they'd told them that cancer was a very real possibility, but they wouldn't know for sure until after a full surgical excision. Her mother had tried to joke away the stress of the situation. ("The odds are 50/50! Like they said in that Seth Rogen movie, if this were blackjack, we'd be raking it in.") Rory had tried to smile through her tears, clasping her mother's hand tight. She had never been any good at hospitals; the IVs, the beeping monitors, the smell of antiseptic. Her mother, pale and weak and clearly hurting, lying helpless in a foreign hospital bed, didn't help. The lack of sleep didn't either.

Lorelai had sent her away at some point, knowing that she needed a break and pointing out that the surgery wasn't until tomorrow anyway. Luke would keep her company.

Rory passed the diner on her way home, and she was surprised to see it open. Curious, she parked and went in.

Jess was behind the counter, taking an order, and glanced up at the ring of the bell. Their eyes locked for a second. She hadn't seen him since Philadelphia, all those years ago. She took a breath and made her way to the counter.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Hey."

"Coffee?"

"Please. To go." She paused, then, "You're back?"

He nodded. "Luke called; asked if I could help Cesar keep the place open for the week. He told me about your mom."

She nodded, wrapping her hands around the warm cup he'd placed in front of her.

"How's she doing?"

Rory nodded again, keeping her eyes on her coffee. "Surgery's tomorrow."

Jess didn't miss the tightening around her eyes or the anxiety lacing her words. She looked worn down; exhausted.

"You going back tonight?"

"No. Mom told me to get some rest. Luke's staying."

He nodded. "We close at nine. I'll come by after."

He had offered before he'd even thought about it. For a second he hesitated, worried she wouldn't want him to. But her eyes held only gratitude as she looked at him and nodded, grabbing her coffee as she left. It was funny, their complicated past and all of the bad blood, none of it seemed to matter. She was scared. He was there.

They understood each other. They were connected. And something always compelled them to look out for each other. Over the years, they'd explain it to inquisitive coworkers and significant others (some more significant than others) as simply as, they were close friends. They had history. They were family, almost.

But they weren't really. "Best friends" was certainly a stretch; they didn't call or keep in touch in between times. It was just that, when things were hard and life left them feeling lost or overwhelmed, they knew they could count on each other. Most of the time, that was enough.