A/N: Wheee! Thanks for the reviews! I should be writing a paper for my film class right now, but I'm writing fanfic instead. Yay procrastination!—weird, I just realized I started this fic last year during finals week…spooky.

Disclaimers: Don't own nothing.

Chapter 11: You never turned around

She was an angel in blue, wings made of air and light, a halo of soft brow hair ignited by the sun. She pierced him with her blue eyes sharper than any…woah there. Jess shook his head. Note to self: morphine makes me melodramatically metaphorical, Jess thought. Suddenly, he realized Rory really was standing there—that part, at least, had been real.

"Rory?"

She looked at him, her brow furrowed. She picked up one foot, hesitating as if she didn't know whether to go forward or back.

"Come in, please?" it was a question, not a demand. She wasn't used to this Jess, this humble, vulnerable Jess. She didn't know what to make of him anymore. Surely it couldn't be Jess lying in that bed, pale and thin, tubes in his nose and arm tethering him to his bed. It couldn't be Jess—he would never lie there waiting for her, begging her with his cloudy coffee-brown eyes to stay with him. This was her turn, she suddenly realized, her turn to run, her turn to leave him waiting for her. He certainly deserved a taste of his own medicine, after leaving her waiting for six months. She started to lower her foot behind her, intending to turn and run, she took a step back, but just as she was about to go, she saw the pain in his eyes, saw the his shoulders sag as he realized she was leaving…and she couldn't do it. No matter how she had felt when he left, there was just no point in adding more hurt to the relationship she so badly wanted to have back.

She was leaving, he knew it. Fine. It was better that she go, better that he didn't have the chance to hurt her again, better if she hurt him instead. When her foot dropped, he sighed, ready to slip into the dark embrace of sleep…but she faltered again, hesitated, stopped. She looked down at the shiny linoleum tile, took a deep breath, and crossed the room toward his bed, still looking at the floor.

The seconds that it took her to reach him seemed like an eternity. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't look into those beautiful eyes that knew all her secrets. She knew that the second she looked at him she would cry, or scream, or melt into his arms. She stood there, inches from his bed, still staring at the shiny floor, white tile streaked with grey.

Suddenly, something warm and roughly soft and undeniably familiar wrapped around her fingers. She started and almost looked up out of alarm, but caught herself just in time. She raised her eyes just enough to see his pale, long fingers wrapped around her hand. That touch she had felt a thousand times and a thousand more in her dreams—it made something jump in her chest every time she felt it. A surge went through her chest and it felt like her heart flew straight out of her chest to him, longing to be joined with his heart. There was a green plastic tube with a smaller tube and a needle taped to the back of his hand…well, actually the needle was in his hand…ok, this was getting gross, it was time to look up.

Her clear blue eyes met his gaze, and he thought he would be transfixed by them, forever, but he somehow managed to pull together the threads of thought that were threatening to slip out of the grasp of his fogged mind. He focused on how cool and soft her tiny hand felt in his fingers.

"I'm glad you came," he said, his voice raspy.

"Me too," she sat down on the edge of his bed. So close…oh so close, he could feel her warmth she was so close. "I was almost back at school…but something made me turn around."

"Rory…about what I said yes—"

"Shhh." Rory cut him off, placing a cool hand on his flushed cheek. "Don't explain it away. I'm glad you came back, I'm glad you said what you did. It took courage to come back. You really hurt me when you left, but if you really have changed, you deserve the chance to prove it to me."

Her hand was so cool, so comforting on his fevered flesh, just her proximity was nearly driving him insane. "What do you mean?" he asked, hoping beyond hope that it was what he thought she meant.

"I mean," she continued slowly. "I mean that I want to give us another chance. I want to be with you Jess, it's all I've ever wanted—but you have to let me be with you this time. No games, no silence, no holding me at arm's length."

"Always," he said as his consciousness relented to the tide of sleep and his eyes closed. The moment before everything slipped into darkness, his mind went white hot with her kiss.