A/N I've been reading a lot of fan fiction in the run-up to the revival, but this is the first fan fiction story I've actually written. I'm very nervous about posting it, so any and all reviews are very welcome (seriously, knowing everyone hates it would be preferable to not knowing what people think). It was inspired by the fic "Wrongfully Accused" by Squeegee Beckinhime. That story prompted me to think about how these characters might react if Rory were attacked and Lorelai and Luke came to the false conclusion that Jess was her attacker, and this is the result. The focus is primarily on Luke and Jess.

Set somewhere in the second or third seasons. Jess and Rory are not dating, but their friendship is similar to what it was in the show before they got together. In my mind Rory was single during the events of this story, although there's nothing in the story that really contradicts the idea that she was with someone.

Triggers: non-graphic mention of rape, violence.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore girls, any of these characters, or the world of Stars Hollow. If only.

Prologue:

"I think you should tell her," Jess softly suggested to Rory as they sat together on the bridge they'd individually come to think of as theirs.

"No," she responded with a small shake of her head. "She'll hate me."

"She won't," he reassured. Of that he was certain.

"You don't know that!" Rory protested.

"With her? And you? I guarantee it." He glanced at her, but her eyes stared blankly at the water. He wanted to say more, but he knew it wasn't his place to push too hard. It wasn't his decision to make, and the last thing Rory needed was to have another choice taken away from her. The silence stretched on.

"It'll break her heart," Rory finally whispered.

"Maybe," Jess answered honestly, "but it would break her heart a lot more to know you're going through this without her. She could help. You know she could."

After a long time, Rory looked up to take in the quiet sincerity in his eyes. She looked back down at the water before quietly nodding.

Part I.

The Gilmore residence was dark but for the lights in the living room when Luke arrived. It was nearly too late for a social call, but he knew that Lorelai wouldn't mind his visit. She never seemed to mind, least of all when Luke was in need of advice. She was the one person in his life that he could always turn to, and tonight he needed a dose of her insanity to bring sanity back to his own mind. Luke was standing on the front porch ready to knock when he heard an unsettling sound: crying. He could tell that Rory was speaking softly through her tears, but her words were muffled and he couldn't make them out. He hovered, hand still posed to knock, trying to decide whether to offer his help or leave them alone. His own minor troubles had fled his consciousness entirely at the sound of Rory's pain. Lorelai's next words, however, put an end to his deliberation about whether or not to knock.

"Jess raped you?" The shocked words rang out clearly.

Luke didn't hear Rory's hurried response to the question that didn't sound like a question at all. He heard only the blood rushing past his ears. He wouldn't remember later how he got back to the diner. Images he didn't want to see invaded his mind: images of his nephew and the innocent girl who had become like a daughter to him. Images of him hurting her. When Luke entered the little apartment above the diner, he did so in a blind rage.

# # #

Jess was sitting at the kitchen table with a book in his hand when the door opened and his uncle rushed into the room. On anyone else, Jess would have immediately recognized the look on his uncle's face for what it was. He'd seen it enough to know what it meant, but it looked so out of place on Luke that he didn't react right away.

Jess hesitated, but then began to stand as Luke charged towards him. "Uncle Luke?" Jess asked uncertainly with no trace of his usual sarcasm. His only answer, too unexpected, even at that point, to block, was a fist connecting harshly and painfully with his cheek. The blow sent him careening backwards into the chair, and both chair and boy crashed to the ground. Luke threw the chair aside and was on top of Jess before he could recover.

"Uncle Luke!" Jess protested sharply as blows rained down on him. He finally got his hands up to protect his face, but the blows then landed on his stomach and sides instead. He tried in vain to get away, but Luke was too strong.

"Uncle Luke! What-" his words were cut off as rough hands that he still couldn't believe belonged to his uncle picked him up by the collar of his jean jacket and hurled him towards the kitchen table. The edge of the table caught him in the ribs and knocked the wind out of him. It overturned and caught him again in the same spot on the way down with far less give. He felt a familiar sharp pain in his side. No sooner had he hit the ground than his uncle was again on top of him and pinning him down. Jess's brain stuttered as he tried to comprehend what was happening. The pain didn't help.

"Uncle Luke," Jess gasped, "stop!" He hated the plea in his tone, the weakness, but this was his uncle Luke and some part of him still expected mercy even if he didn't know what was going on. "Please, stop. Stop. Please." Instead of stopping, the hits only came faster and harder.

"Shut. Up." Luke barked at him between blows. They were the first words his uncle had spoken since he barged through the door. Jess obeyed immediately. Why are you doing this? Jess wanted to ask. What did I do? He wanted to ask, but everything in his life had taught him that when someone is bigger than you, and on top of you, and hurting you, and they tell you to do something... you do it. No questions asked. So he kept his mouth shut and took the beating.

It didn't last much longer, although it seemed plenty long for Jess. The blows slowed and then stopped entirely, but Luke kept Jess pinned beneath him. He needn't have bothered. Jess had given up on getting away. In his experience, running when you don't really have a chance of getting away only brought more pain in the end. Luke reached down and grabbed the boy by the front of his jacket and pulled him up. Jess tried, not entirely successfully, to get his feet under him as his uncle half dragged him to the door.

Luke flung the door open and threw his nephew out of his apartment. Jess hit the wall across from the door and then slumped to the floor. Luke grabbed his collar again, pulling him up into a seated position and pressing him into the wall. Luke knelt in front of the kid so that his face was only a few inches higher than Jess's. Jess kept his hands in the air in silent surrender, a plea for this to be over, but he followed orders. He didn't say a word. His eyes screamed of pain, betrayal, and above all confusion, but he didn't utter a word.

"If you weren't my nephew," Luke growled, "I'd have killed you." Jess's eyes widened, but still he said nothing. "If I ever see your face again, I will." Jess slumped down once again when his uncle released him. Luke turned away from him abruptly and slammed the door on his way back into the apartment the two apparently no longer shared. The door slammed so hard it popped back open again. Jess saw the fury in Luke's eyes as he turned back towards the mutinous door, and he held his breath as Luke stormed back towards the door. In the end, though, the man just reached out and firmly shut the door again.

For a moment, all Jess could do was stare at the door as his normally quick mind tried in vain to make sense of whatever the heck just happened. It took a moment for the threat in his uncle's last words to truly register. When it did, it suddenly seemed very unwise for him to stay crumpled on the floor outside the man's door.

Jess stifled a groan as he started to pick himself up. His aching body protested his every movement. He wiped blood from his nose and stumbled down the stairs. He paused in the diner. It was dark outside, it was cold outside, and he had nowhere else to go. He was about to step outside anyway, but he hesitated at the door and looked back. He eyed the cash register indecisively before striding over to it. Jess certainly wasn't above stealing, but something about this was different. It didn't feel right to steal from his uncle, but everything he owned and all of his savings were up in that apartment. The man hadn't even given him shoes. So, Jess took a wad of cash and left a note saying simply "I'm sorry" in its place. He wasn't entirely sure what he was apologizing for, but he supposed the theft was a good start.

The ground was freezing beneath his feet as he exited the diner. His thin socks offered little protection from the cold, and his jacket offered little more against the bitter wind. He walked away from the warmth of the diner anyway, knowing he'd worn out his welcome. He wasn't pathetic enough, or stupid enough, to go back and ask to stay. Not even just until morning. How he'd worn out his welcome, exactly, he still wasn't sure, but that wasn't the point. He walked towards the one place in town that still felt like his, still trying to make sense of what happened. He just finally got sick of putting up with you, a nasty voice in his head told him. Who could blame him? Rude. Disrespectful. Disobedient. Always causing trouble. Getting in fights. Skipping school. The question isn't why he hit you. It's what took him so long.

He tried to ignore the voice. If there was one thing Jess would admit pride in, if only to himself, it was his ability to read people. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that Luke Danes was a good man. A pain in the neck sometimes, but a good man. A patient man, even, if you looked past the frequent yelling and nagging and chucking people out of his diner on occasion. How else could he have put up with this crazy town for so long? Not to mention most men would've shipped Jess back to his mother a long time ago. Return to sender, simple as that. The man's gruff exterior was, Jess was sure, an unconscious mask. If Luke had simply grown sick of his antics, grown tired of having him around, then he would have said something. He'd have yelled. Screamed. Packed Jess's bags and sent him back to his mother with some line about how it was for his own good. He wouldn't have stormed in and started beating him without so much as a word. He must have had a reason. A specific reason. A good reason.

Jess was already shivering when he sat down on the bridge. He folded his feet under him to try to warm them up. The shaking hurt, but he couldn't seem to stop. He tucked in on himself until he was a little ball, trying to conserve as much warmth as possible, and fought the tears he wouldn't admit were in his eyes. They were just watering because it was freezing.

Jess was a good judge of character, and it had been eight years since he'd trusted someone so completely only to have that person turn around and hurt him badly. Granted, he hadn't really trusted anyone since then. He'd much rather push people away until they stopped trying to get close to him, it was safer that way, but that wasn't the point, either. The point was that he trusted Luke. He knew Luke. So he huddled on the bridge, shaking and in pain, and wracked his brain trying to figure out what he'd done to deserve this. He wracked his brain, because if there was one more thing he was sure of it was that if Luke Danes of all people hit him, then Jess must have done something to deserve it.

A/N 2: I may leave this as a (rather depressing) one-shot, but there are four more parts to this story that I just need to edit a little. Should I continue this story? It gets more depressing and then less depressing. Whether I post the rest depends on whether there is any interest and also how nervous I am to post it. Any kind of feedback will definitely help with the nerve issue! I'm always looking to improve as a writer, so constructive criticism is very welcome!