Jess felt so impossibly tired and numb that when Luke told him that he was sending him back to his mother, all he could do was nod.

Luke left him alone again soon after that, parting with a gentle hand on Jess' shoulder saying that he'd be back at the diner.

Jess took another drag of his cigarette and watched the water shifting below the dock, his head crowded full of thoughts.

He had hurt Rory.

-flashback-

Jess' palms were still damp from the tears he caught falling down Rory's cheek as she cradled her wrist to her chest in the aftermath, the sound of crushed metal creaking and hissing loud in his ears.

Rory had drew away from him unthinkingly at first, her blue eyes wary and fearful and tight with pain and Jess couldn't help but think, he caused this.

Though fleeting, the mistrust in her expression stuck in Jess' mind as he forced down the shock and numbness threatening to overtake his body because holy shit they were just in an accident, and helped Rory out into the chilly night air.

As they sat on the sidewalk, waiting for paramedics to arrive, Jess filled silence between them with apologies.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Rory just offered him a watery smile. She raised her wounded wrist a few inches.

"This? Proof that I can totally be an overseas correspondent."

Jess didn't know whether to cry or laugh. Rory was sitting next to her wrecked car, clutching her injured wrist and she was comforting him. He lowered his gaze from her earnest expression, his chest tight. God, he was pathetic as fuck.

Seeing this, Rory sighed and tilted his face towards her with her unwounded hand, giving him no choice but to look at her.

"You know I don't blame you, right?" Her blue, blue eyes searched his. "This wasn't your fault."

Jess scoffed. "You wouldn't have been out tonight if it hadn't been for me."

"Come on, Jess, don't do this to yourself," Rory pleaded as he got up. The sound of sirens was closer now, and soon, Rory would be okay.

By the time the ambulance arrived, Jess was gone.

-end flashback-

Jess' skin still burned from her touch.

Rory didn't understand. Jess ruined things, ruined people, and the sooner he left, the better. He stood up and ground out his cigarette.

The wreckage from earlier had been cleared away by the time Jess found himself in front of Luke's. Save for the glaring, blank space where the post and bench were supposed to be, it was almost as if nothing had happened at all.

When he reached the diner door, Jess paused. Everything inside had been just the way he and Rory had left it, except now, Luke was there, hunched over the table they had occupied earlier, weariness written in every inch of his frame.

Jess swallowed, unused to seeing Luke like this. He wanted his uncle to be mad, yell at him, do something other than look so defeated.

Slowly, he forced himself to walk into the diner.

The sound of the little bell above the door brought Luke to his feet. A beat of unbearable silence stretched between them.

"So I guess I'll get to it then," Jess said at last.

"Right." Luke awkwardly hovered where he was. He waited a second before adding softly, "The last bus will be at eleven. I'll walk you there."

Jess just nodded. "Okay. Fine."

Packing was a haphazard affair. Jess took as much clothes out of drawers and books off of shelves as he could, hating and feeling foolish that he'd let himself feel comfortable enough to put his stuff there in the first place. Stars Hollow was always supposed to be temporary; it wasn't home and it certainly wouldn't be after everybody in town finds about what he had done to Rory.

It was these thoughts that provided Jess a second companion besides Luke as the two of them sat shivering at the bus stop a half hour later. As they waited, Jess pulled out another cigarette and glanced over at Luke. His uncle was facing mostly away from Jess, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared out into the night.

"Are you mad at me?" The question slipped out before Jess could help it. It sounded hideously soft and childish even to his own ears, but as soon as he said it, Jess was curious.

Luke's tired eyes slid over to Jess. He regarded Jess, his expression conflicted and troubled and almost sad, before answering, "It wouldn't matter even if I was."

Before Jess could ask Luke what that meant, the bus stop was suddenly flooded with a bright light as the bus' wheels crunched to a halt in front of them and the doors opened with a hiss.

Jess reluctantly put out his cigarette for the second time that night and swung his bag over his shoulder.

"Take care of yourself," Luke said, taking his cap off and fiddling with it. His uncle was never really good at things like these.

Jess wasn't either. "I will, thanks," he replied, looking at Luke one last time before climbing onto the bus.

Then, Stars Hollow was whisking past him; a few miles later it was gone completely.

Jess blearily opened his eyes as his neighborhood loomed large beyond the bus window he had been dozing lightly against for the past hour. The sky was barely beginning to lighten outside.

Stiffly, he made his way across the street to his old apartment complex, climbing the stairs until he reached the familiar door with faded gold numbers: 302.

After closing the door to his and his mother's apartment behind him, Jess turned and warily face the sight that awaited him.

Everything was dark, save for a single light bulb illuminating the kitchen counter and Liz, who sat at it, her fingers loosely curled around the neck of a bottle of whiskey. Her third one, Jess noted, staring at the shards of glass in the sink.

"Goddammit, Jess," she slurred, pushing away from the counter and stumbling towards him. Liz's hazel eyes pierced Jess' dark brown ones, and suddenly, with a force far sharper than her current state of mind, she slapped him hard across the cheek.

"I was trying to do you a good thing," she whispered. "And you fucking ruined it. You ruined it! God! How much of a disappointment did you have to be for Luke, of all people, to ship you back?" Liz was screaming now, crying.

"Mom, you're drunk," Jess said as evenly as he could. Nevertheless, his voice still trembled. "Let's get you to bed." He set his bag down and carefully reached for Liz.

"Don't touch me," she spat, and tried to twist away from him. But Jess was used to this, muscle memory guiding his hands as he pried the whiskey away from Liz and supported her weight down the hall to her bedroom.

When Liz's snores filled the tiny apartment, Jess finally went to his room, exhausted. He collapsed on the bare mattress on the floor, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep and forget.

But sleep did not come to him that night, and as Jess soon found out, any night after.