This is season two Jess, as if the accident never happened, and he never left…but they still renovated the apartment. It's a one shot, unless I later decide otherwise. I have no idea how realistic this is. It probably isn't. I'm not a doctor, or a nurse or anything. I don't know much about this stuff, so, please forgive any errors.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, or anything you recognize.

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Stars Hollow was suffering through a heat wave, and the diner was sweltering. The air conditioner was down, and Luke hadn't gotten around to fiddling with it yet, as the diner had been packed all morning. It was a weekend in late June, high school exams had already finished, and it seemed that the entire town had nothing to do but eat. Jess wiped his sleeve across his sweaty forehead, and turned his attention back to what he was copying down onto his order pad. "Caesar salad, burger, milkshake. Got it." Jess moved quickly back to the kitchen to give the order to Caesar, before hurrying off to another table. He felt like he had been working for hours, but his stomach usually alerted him when it was time for lunch. However, he'd been nauseous all morning, so he was surprised when a quick glance at the clock told him that it was, in fact, 1:30. So he'd been working for seven hours straight – no wonder his feet were killing him. He looked over to see Luke serving another customer, and contemplated asking him to take a break. He normally had one every few hours, but he hadn't dared asking for one yet, as Luke had been in a bad mood all morning, stressed from the unusually busy morning, and, if Jess wasn't mistaken, angry at Taylor for something or other that Taylor had done. Maybe it was because of their argument in the last town meeting, two nights before. Or maybe it was because Taylor had put up posters on the diner door, advertising a citrus sale at Doose's. Jess didn't know, and, frankly, didn't care either. All he needed was for Luke to stop barking at everyone so he could get close enough to ask for a long-overdue break.

He looked longingly at the open door to the diner. Although he doubted it was any less hot outside, at least there might be some sort of breeze. And at least it wouldn't reek of grease, coffee, and sweat. He was starting to feel like he might actually throw up – or just pass out – but he determinedly ignored the feeling as best he could and went to deliver the next order.

It was three orders later when he dropped his first plate. The shattering brought him an irritated glance from Luke, and he quickly set about cleaning up the mess, his hands still shaking, ordering people to step away while he swept up the mix of ceramic shards and spaghetti. His vision was blurred more and more each time he stood up to dump portions in the trash, and by the time he was done, his head was pounding harshly, the world spinning around him. He grabbed the edge of the nearest table to steady himself, before turning around to move the broom and the mop and the garbage bin back to the closet where they were stored, trying to ignore the spike of pain as Luke yelled at him to move quicker from across the diner.

By that point, he really, really needed to get out, but Luke seemed in no mood to give him anything, so he told himself that it would only be another half-hour or so, and then he would be blissfully free to go take a shower, and then pass out on his bed.

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Luke was irritated. He wasn't sure why, but everything was irking him. He supposed there might be some credence to the idea of "waking up on the wrong side of the bed" after all. It might have been because he had gone to bed fuming after Taylor had confronted him yet again about their argument at the town meeting, which was over nothing more than that Luke wasn't contributing to the well-being of the entire town. It might have been that, plus the fact that Taylor had decided to cover his entire door in posters, one for each type of citrus fruit involved in his sale at Doose's. It might have been anger at his misfortune to have his air conditioner conk out on the hottest day so far that summer. It might have been that the sweltering heat that had invaded the diner had been accompanied by a crowd of people that never seemed to die down. He had asked Babette why it seemed like the whole town had come in that day, to which she had only replied, "Sugar, it's way too hot for us to be cookin'. So, we come to you for you to do it for us."

It had been the longest morning in a long time, Jess had been running around trying to serve everyone as fast as possible, while he alternated between helping Caesar cook, and serving as well. The entire morning had been insane, and he hadn't even had a chance to hope for some semblance of a morning lull when he had realized that it was time for the lunch rush to start. He was getting dangerously close to throwing everything into the air and kicking everybody out, but he couldn't justify that he was hot and didn't feel like working as a viable excuse for kicking people out. It felt like closing just because business was good. So, he toiled on, pausing every so often to gulp down some water, or wipe the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. He had even gotten rid of his flannel shirt, leaving on only a regular t-shirt, a sure sign that things really were getting unbearable.

It was when Jess dropped his second plate, less than ten minutes after the first one, that Luke lost it. With quick bark of "That's it, I can't take this. Caesar, you're in charge," Luke stormed out of the diner and out into the humid summer air, and, taking a deep breath, started to pace on the sidewalk, before leaving to take a walk around the town square.

When he returned fifteen minutes later, the diner was in a panic. Everyone was yelling, chairs overturned, tables pushed to the side, as people crowded in the middle of the diner. Without a word, he quickly pushed his way to the middle of the crowd, before stopping in shock.

Jess was convulsing on the ground, lying beside a puddle of vomit.

He stared for a moment longer, before his mind finally made sense of what he was seeing, and he was at Jess's side, grabbing a stack of clean cloth napkins from the counter and trying to form some sort of pillow under his head. When Jess stilled, and quickly fell unconscious, Luke finally looked up to the crowd of people surrounding him.

"Has anyone called an ambulance?" And suddenly everyone was scrambling for cell phones, starting to dial. "Ok, stop!" he yelled. And everyone went still again. "Ok, can one person call? If you all call at once, nobody will get through. He glanced at the faces around him. "Caesar?"

"Here," Caesar responded from behind the counter, where he was straining to see over the heads of the people who had gathered in front of him. He then seemed to realize what he was being asked – "Oh. Right. Calling." He picked up the diner phone and dialled 911.

Luke looked around at the concerned faces looking down at him and Jess. "When did he start?" He was stumbling over his words, his worry seeming to rid him of the ability to speak coherently. "Or… when did he fall, or throw up…or… what happened?" he finally got out. The crowd seemed to shift, people shuffling their feet uncomfortably. "Well? Did nobody see anything? Somebody must have seen something. And clearly you were all crowded around him by the time I got back, so unless you did something ridiculous like crowding around him for no reason with your eyes closed till you could stare at the ceiling and plug your ears and tell yourself nothing was happening… I was out, I missed it, now could somebody please tell me what happened?" He was getting frustrated, and was about to start yelling again when Miss Patty stepped forward.

"He fainted, sweetheart." Luke nodded.

"And?"

"He started shaking, there on the floor." Luke nodded again, frustration creeping back into his tone.

"How? When? Why?" Miss Patty shook her head, clasping her hands nervously.

"I don't know how or why, Luke, but he was taking my order, but then he kind of backed away, and dropped his notepad and pen, and he turned like he was going to run but then he kind of fell over and threw up. And that's when we all crowded 'round him, but then he started having a seizure, or something, and twenty seconds later you were back. And now…well… here we are." Luke sighed, and turned his attention back to Jess, running his hand through his nephew's sweaty hair, brushing his fingers gently across his extremely hot, dry skin.

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The doctor said it was heatstroke. Luke didn't quite know what heatstroke was, but anything with the word 'stroke' in it sounded dangerous – dark and frightening. The doctor led him down the hallway, headed for Jess's room, explaining as they went that heatstroke was what happened when the body's 'air conditioning' system fails, the person stops sweating, and the body temperature rises quickly and dangerously. Oh.

Need to fix that air conditioner, was Luke's offhand thought.

"It is a life-threatening emergency," the doctor continued, and Luke's attention snapped back out of his musings.

"What?"

"It's scary, but it's true. You're very lucky that he was picked up quickly. They gave you instructions before they arrived, did they not? When you called 911."

"Uh…yeah. We…well we cleared everyone out of the diner," Luke realized that the doctor knew nothing about Stars Hollow, or the diner at all, "well, my diner. I run a diner. Jess was working in the diner, but the air conditioner was broken, and it was really crowded and…" he knew he was rambling, but he couldn't stop himself. "Well, then they said to cool him off by sponging him with cool water, and cold compresses." The doctor was nodding.

"Well, he's a lucky boy. If nobody had reacted or called for help, it could have been much worse."

Luke was scared then. He had been scared before, for sure, but now he was borderline (or beyond) terrified – not that he'd ever admit it to himself, or anyone else. Jess had a life threatening emergency. Jess had a life threatening emergency.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting when they got to Jess's room – blood or heavy bandaging, or something – but he was relatively relieved by what he saw. Upon first glance, Jess looked relatively unharmed. Then again, he reasoned with himself, it had been hours since they had arrived at the hospital. The doctor was saying something about having cooled him down, that he was stable, but beyond that Luke tuned him out, his focus solely on the nephew that was lying, dwarfed in the hospital bed. The doctor left with a "Press the call button if you need anything," and Luke sat down slowly in the chair beside Jess's bed, tentatively reaching out a hand to run through his nephew's hair.

He spent the rest of the day and much of the next alternating between smoothing back with Jess's hair and playing with his nephew's still hands. It was almost noon when Jess opened bleary eyes to gaze up at him, confusedly.

"What…?" Jess's voice was soft and raspy, and Luke quickly got him some water, taking the cup back from Jess, and putting it back on the bedside table, before he replied to Jess's question.

"Hospital."

"Huh?"

"You passed out."

"Oh."

"Yeah, you collapsed, we called an ambulance…"

"I gathered."

"You had a seizure. After throwing up. The doctor said it was heatstroke."

"…Oh." Jess curled up on his side, his movement pulling at the wires and IV lines attached to him, but luckily not detaching any.

"Careful," Luke murmured softly. He couldn't help but notice that, without his customary hair gel, leather jacket, and "bite my ass" attitude, Jess looked much younger than his seventeen years. Luke longed to hold his nephew, but he didn't think Jess would ever allow him to. "Jess…"

"I'm sorry." Luke's head shot up in surprise.

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I'm sorry for not moving fast enough and for breaking two plates and costing you those two dinners and passing out or whatever and making a scene…"

"Jess…I'm not mad."

"You're not?"

"No. Why would I be mad?" Luke pulled his nephew's hand into both of his, confusion marring his features. Jess stared at Luke's hands like they were some foreign creature he'd never seen before, but he didn't pull away. He looked up at his uncle, frowning slightly.

"I…you were mad all morning. And then I broke plates and you got even more mad, and then you stormed out and it was just so hot and I tried to keep working but then I threw up and I couldn't even clean it up, and I don't even remember what happened next, till I woke up here, and – " Luke cut him off.

"Jess, none of that was your fault. I was mad at Taylor, and then after that I was just…stressed. And the plates weren't your fault either."

"But…"

"But nothing. The doctor said that heatstroke, or even heat exhaustion, which is like heatstroke but not quite, and not as bad…kind of like heatstroke before it's heatstroke, or something like that…well, he said that it, or they, cause weakness, and confusion , and disorientation, and nausea, and headaches, and dizziness… and then it becomes heatstroke which means throwing up and …convulsing and passing out. So it's not your fault, it's mine." Jess looked confused.

"What?"

"What?" Luke retorted.

"Why is that your fault?"

"I didn't notice."

"So?"

"So, I should have noticed. If you had symptoms before you even passed out I should have noticed, and I should have done something. And I should never have made you work so long without a break, especially when it was so hot inside. It was unfair, and look where it landed you."

"So?" Luke looked at Jess incredulously.

"So, it's my responsibility to look after you! I should have noticed that you were feeling sick. The doctor said all this could have been stopped if we had noticed it early enough."

"I didn't say anything either."

"…Why didn't you?" Jess hesitated, moving his free hand to fiddle with a loose thread on his blanket.

"You were mad." Luke sighed, feeling even angrier with himself than he had before.

"Jess… no matter how mad I look, if you're feeling sick, you tell me, ok? You feeling sick is way more important than me getting to sulk over Taylor being an idiot, alright?" Jess raised an eyebrow at him as a grin spread slowly over his face. Luke frowned, nervous. "What?"

"You were sulking?"

"Well… sulking's not really the word…"

"Wuuuke, were you suwking?" Luke sighed exasperatedly.

"Jess…"

"It's ok, Wuukey, I make it aaallll go away. No need be buwwied by big mean Taylor no more!" Luke dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Jess!"

If only the short exchange hadn't left Jess so exhausted that he was asleep within five minutes of its ending. If only their conversation hadn't been punctuated by the beeping of the heart monitor (not that Luke would have it any other way – as long as Jess was hooked up to it, that heart monitor had better keep beeping or else Luke would have something to say about it…not that he was making threats). If only the bed weren't surrounded by ominous machines that Luke didn't recognize. If only things hadn't gone so wrong, then maybe the situation would have been everything right.

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Jess was home by the end of the week. Jess was home, and relatively healthy, and happier than Luke had seen him in a long time. If he was more tired than usual, well, Luke didn't mind. They had gotten home just before 6:00 in the evening, and Luke led a groggy Jess, still half-asleep from his nap in the car, through the diner, and up the stairs to the apartment, ignoring the stares of the diner customers as they went. Jess changed into pyjamas – his own pyjamas, as he happily, but sleepily mumbled – before climbing into his own bed, and falling asleep.

There was a newfound trust between them, Luke was sure. He didn't know when it had started, or why, but he was grateful for it. He knew that one week wasn't enough to bridge a gap that held its roots in years of loneliness, in years of distance, with no contact but the occasional Christmas card or birthday present sent through the mail. He knew that the trust was only tentative – that his withdrawn nephew had taken a big step in letting him in as far as he had, but that there was much farther to go, many more trust issues to conquer still. He knew that if anything wrong was said or done, Jess could easily shut him out again, just as he had before. But at the same time, he knew he wasn't going anywhere – that he was determined to fix things between them. He knew he couldn't make up for years of no contact, but he also knew that he was going to make a valiant effort to make himself a stable and reliable presence in his nephew's life.

Luke went downstairs to relieve Caesar of his diner duties for the first time in almost a week, and, after closing up at 9:00, which was really earlier than usual, though Luke couldn't bring himself to care, he made his way up the stairs, and, pulling up a chair from the kitchen, sat down beside Jess's bed. As he had done every night, and often during the day, for the past week, Luke reached out to brush back Jess' bangs from his face, running his fingers gently through his nephew's hair. Jess mumbled something incoherent in his sleep, but Luke paid him no mind, continuing to smooth back the soft, dark curls. Jess mumbled something again, and slowly opened two tired eyes to gaze up at Luke, but he didn't draw back, and as Luke kept his fingers running comfortingly through his nephew's locks, Jess said nothing, gracing his uncle with a sleepy smile, before falling back into sleep.

And that was when Luke realized that maybe, despite what everyone else said, despite what everyone else thought, maybe things would work out ok.

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