Absence


"Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell."

— Edna St. Vincent Millay-


"You're drunk." It's the first thing she notices as she walks in the diner, finding him sitting at one of the tables, an almost empty bottle in front of him.

"No kidding." He sighs, leaning his head back, his hands rubbing his temples softly.

They'd been avoiding each other all day.

"Liz is worried about you."

"That's new." He snorts, opening his eyes again, trying to focus them on the glass. "She's really going for the mother of the year title, isn't she?"

"Jess, don't be a bastard. Get up, drink some water, sleep it off and pretend you don't hate being here for a few more hours tomorrow."

"Why'd they send you, anyway?" He looks at her, ignoring her order, picking up his glass in the same movement. Fluid, despite the alcohol making his head spin. "I mean of all the people…"

"I was the only one sober enough to drive over. Well, me or Kirk, but I figured that wouldn't have ended well." She lies.

"Appreciate it. I would have killed him." Shrugging, he pours more alcohol in his glass. "Have a drink with me."

"Not planning to, sorry."

"Why not?"

"Logan's waiting."

"Fuck. Forgot about him." Shaking his head, he downs almost half the liquid in one smooth move. "Never could stay away from your exes, could you?"

"Fuck you." She hisses, her body moving towards the door. Realizing what she was doing, he jumps out of the chair, commanding his body to listen as he moves swiftly in front of her.

"Don't."

"I made sure you're alive, I'm done."

"Why do you hate me so much, huh?" He looks into her eyes, emotionless. "I mean, honestly, you're no fucking Snow White in our story. You don't really have a place to come from being this angry with me."

"I don't hate you." She shakes her head. "I just don't want to drink with you."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't, ok? Insulting me and digging up the past not good enough reasons for you?" Trying to push past him, she sighs when he steps in front of her again.

"One drink."

"No."

"Half a drink?" He offers, an awkward half smile on his face and she feels her defenses melting away. Remembering the other reasons why she'd volunteered to check up on him, she shakes her head, starting to unbutton her coat.

"I don't care if you have to crawl, you're walking me back to the inn."

"Not staying at your mother's?"

"Logan and her don't get along." She shrugs again, heading behind the counter, looking for a glass.

"Bottom shelf, to your left." Jess points out and she smiles gratefully, putting it on the counter.

"Tell me at least you have some ice to mix that with."

"There should be some in the kitchen."

"Thanks."

Sitting down at the table a few moments later, she tries to pick up the bottle but he takes it first, filling her glass up.

"Best thing about people not knowing what to get you for Christmas-they just get you booze."

Her lips tightening as she forces a smile, she tries not to think of the state Logan must be in.

"Sorry." He apologizes, the change in her attitude not unnoticed.

"Forget about it." She picks up the glass, shaking her head before she empties half of it, hoping for numb abandon. "How's Truncheon?"

"Good. Busy. The paper?"

Going quiet again, she takes another sip from her drink, staring at the bottom of the glass. "I got offered a new role."

"Anything good?"

"Things in North Korea are looking bad again. There's probably going to be a war soon. My paper wants me to go cover it. I'd be as close to the border as possible right now."

"So you're going to do the whole foreign correspondent thing?"

"I don't know yet." She shrugs after a short pause, looking at her now almost empty glass. He refills it, wordlessly.

"Why not?"

"It's complicated."

"Him?" He avoids his name and she acknowledges it with a nod.

"Mom too. She's not too happy about the possibility of me going somewhere dangerous."

"Hasn't that always been the dream?"

"I guess it's scarier when the dream is real." Rory shrugs, eyes fixed on a chair.

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"Does it scare you?"

"I don't think so." She looks at him instead, teeth biting her lip. "I just wish it was an easy decision to make."

"It is. Do whatever would make you happiest."

"Figures you'd tell me that. As selfless as usual, aren't you?"

"Living up to the expectations." Jess smirks, looking at the empty bottle. "You think they'd at least like me enough to give me grown up sized bottles. I have gin."

"No more vodka?" She pouts slightly, picking up her glass. The thought of being next to Logan is suffocating.

"Give me a minute." He picks up one of the still wrapped packages in the bag next to the table and unwraps it, a new bottle of vodka inside. "Huh, I always thought people would peg me for more of a whiskey guy."

"Are you?"

"I'll drink anything." He shrugs, looking at the kitchen. "Ice?"

"I'll get it." She stands up, her hand holding to the end of the table. Dropping the ice tray on the table a few seconds later, she smiles. "Luke is going to kill you tomorrow morning when there's no ice in the freezer."

"It's December. Who the fuck's gonna need ice?"

"Kirk? Although I think he was hitting the sugar cookies, so he may not be here tomorrow."

"I may not be Luke's favorite person, but I'm sure he won't care much about Kirk's needs."

"Jess, don't say that. You know Luke…"

"I know." He waves his hand slightly, refilling their glasses, ice already melting in them. "Doesn't matter. So…the job?" Changing the subject back, he looks into her eyes.

"I don't know. I have until the New Year to answer. I'll think about it. It's just…all this stuff all happening at once and I have to decide and I can't do it. Pro-con lists aren't helping."

"What else is up?" He leans back in the chair, eyes not leaving her. She bites her lip again, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, hesitant.

"Logan's going to propose." She breathes out after a few seconds of tense silence. "I heard him on the phone."

"I take it my best wishes would be out of place."

"I don't know." She shrugs, focusing on the drink instead. "He's going to use the same ring he gave me last time." She takes a small sip from her drink, letting the liquid burn her mouth before swallowing. "I don't want to sound materialistic, because it's not about the ring itself. I'd rather he used that. Money's been tight since he went back to working for his dad. He's making him work his way up this time." She explains briefly. "But the thing is that it feels like he's offering me the same life I already said no to once. And he hasn't changed much from the guy he was in college-hell, if anything, he's worse now than he was the first time he proposed. And I just don't know which life I want, the society dinners and little black dresses or the crawling around trenches or if there is some middle ground between those." Noticing his knuckles are almost white from clenching around the glass, she shakes her head, remorseful. "I'm sorry. You're not the person to put all of this on."

"No, I'm not." His voice is colder than before.

"You asked." She tries to defend herself. "I suppose I'll figure something out."

"Go to Korea. If he loves you enough, he'll wait. And the fucking cocktail life will surely be there when you're old."

"It's not that easy, Jess."

"Like hell it isn't." He watches her as she stands up, starting to pace around the room, empty glass forgotten on the table.

"You don't know anything about us." She stops suddenly, her eyes looking straight at him. "It's not how we work. Being apart for months, maybe a year, two? We could never make it. We barely made it last time."

"Then leave him a fucking note on the nightstand tomorrow morning, telling him you don't want to do it."

"Go to hell." She closes her eyes, his words echoing inside her head. "That's low even for you."

"As low as your note to me was or worse?" Jess stands up, stopping in front of her. "I can't. I'm sorry."

"I remember." She bites her lip, backing away from him until her back hits the counter. "Is that why you came here? To guilt me for that?"

"I came because Luke actually drove over to Philadelphia to ask me to come. Don't fool yourself." He steps closer to her.

"Hey, at least I left a note. I didn't move to the other side of the country and let you find out from someone else."

"No, you jumped right out of my bed and into his."

"Right, 'cause I'm sure you spent your time crying yourself to sleep over me."

"Was that what you wanted? Because it really didn't feel to me like you left me with a lot of hope of you coming back." Stopping in front of her, he feels her breath hitch, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. "Crying over spilt milk was never a great passion of mine, I must admit."

"Nice to know that's what I am to you." Rory replies, as harsh as he is.

"Melodramatic again? You know fucking well what you are to me."

"I do? You forgot to send me the memo then."

"Really?" Leaning closer to her ear, he takes a deep breath, her scent distracting him for a moment. "Was I not clear enough when I told you you're fucking it for me? You wanted more?"

"I…" She pauses, unable to think because of his closeness and his words.

"Seriously, Rory, tell me what more I could have said. Because I'm not really a standing under your window with a boombox kind of guy. And it might have woken your soon-to-be fiancé up, which would have been uncomfortable, shall we say." Pulling back away from her, he breathes in again, trying to calm himself down.

"I cried for weeks after you." After a few moments of silence, she speaks again, her voice steady and seemingly emotionless, her eyes focused on his. "Ask mom, she can vouch for it. Hell, ask anyone in this town. So you accusing me of going straight to him after you is unfair. You thinking I didn't care about you is unfair. Leaving you almost broke me."

"So why didn't you stay?" Jess whispers, taken aback.

"And start again? We're not good for each other, Jess. Never were."

"Then how come I can't be without you? If we're this bad, how is it that I still think of you all the fucking time?"

"Don't go there, Jess." She begs him, but he shakes his head, stepping closer to her again.

"You know what I've wanted for the past six years? To forget about you. No, that's not the right way to put this." He corrects himself, shaking his head. "I wanted to not belong to you. For one day. For one fucking minute, I wanted to not feel like you are overwhelmingly possessing my every single cell."

"Please stop." She pleads again.

"Tell me your body doesn't yearn like mine does." His hand touches her face briefly, the jolt reverberating through both of them. "Tell me it doesn't need mine. Tell me that, at least fucking once, you haven't had him touch you while you wished it was me." His voice stops its crescendo, lowering to a whisper again as his eyes close for a moment. "Or if it doesn't, tell me how to stop mine. Because I can barely fucking function without you."

In one seconds, she collapses, her body now on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees. Sobs making her shake. Unsure of what to do, he sits down, wrapping his arms around her.

"Don't make me be without you." He presses a kiss to her hair.

"Stop." She manages to squeeze out between sobs and he nods.

"Ok."

He holds her as she cries, no more words spoken for a long time.

"I have to get back to the inn. People will be worried." She whispers, pulling herself from his arms.

"That's it?" Stunned.

"It's all I've got." She stands up again, taking a deep breath.

"Don't go." He pulls himself up to his feet as well.

"Why should I stay, Jess? So you can keep saying stuff like that?"

Quiet, he looks at her.

"What you said? It doesn't change a thing." She shakes her head, sadly. Resigned. "I didn't leave that night because I didn't want to be with you. I left because I can't be with you. All our mess? I can't take any if that again. I'm sorry." She whispers the last sentence, apologizing to both him and herself.

"What mess?" He tries to understand.

"You hurt me and I hurt you and then one of us leaves and it's a shit situation."

"Then why is me asking you to stop the leaving a bad thing?"

"Because you're you!" She almost yells, frustrated. "You're standing there and you're making me think that we could work, but there's no real life basis for this. What me can't you be without? The one you've had a handful of conversations with since high school? That was six and a half years ago. I'm not the same."

"Neither am I." A small movement of his head. "Yet you keep assuming I'm going to hurt you."

"I know it."

"Is this still about me leaving? Because there's got to be some sort of statute of limitation to how long I can be held responsible for that."

"It's not that you left, Jess. It's that you never gave me a true chance even before that." She stomps her foot slightly, wrapping her arms around herself. "I don't have the energy to spend day after day with you, wondering if you're going to at least pretend to make an effort. I can't, ok? I just…can't. I'm weak and selfish and way too broken."

"I'm not that guy any more, Rory." He steps towards her, his arm reaching out and resting on her elbow. "I left because I was that and because it wasn't fair to you. Did everything else conspire as well? Yes. But that was part of the reason. The biggest part. But you could count on me form the first time I told you you could, in your dorm. I'm not going to hurt you. I have it all together now-the job, the house, the friends. It's all there."

"I want to believe you." A sad smile on her lips, she shrugs. "But it's just…so much stuff. Too much. I can't. There's not enough left of me to handle you." The sentence makes both of them quiet for a long moment. "Being with you because I can't stand to be without you is not good enough." Looking into his eyes, she sees the question that never makes it past his lips. "I love you too, Jess." Placing a soft kiss on his cheek, she tries to control the tears threatening to flow again. "I'm sorry."

Lips pursed together, he stares as she turns her back, leaving. Collapsing in a chair, he picks the bottle up, refilling his glass, eyes fixed on her empty one.


"On the scales of desire, your absence weighs more
than someone else's presence."

-Jeffrey McDaniel-


She takes a deep breath.

And then another one.

Her hand reaches for the handle and twists it to the side, pushing the door open.

The last barrier down.

Seeing him on the couch, she freezes and he puts down his book, a displeased look on his face.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was in bed next to him last night." She begins her story and he tenses up slightly.

"Nice to know you're up to twisting the knife."

"Let me finish. I just…I tried to imagine my life without you. And I couldn't. Never seeing you again? I could easily think of not having him there but you? You are so much of me, it would be like missing some chunk forever. So here I am, as unceremoniously as possible telling you that if you still want me, I'm here."

"I waited all this time and you think I was going to change my mind now?"

"I think we both know that we don't know how not to hurt each other. Giving you one last chance to leave is the humane thing to do."

"I never much cared for humaneness." He smiles as she steps closer, still hesitant.

"So?" She smiles back, teeth biting her lip. "Logan's…not an issue any more. There was some screaming and tire screeching, but I think he'll get it eventually."

Walking to her, he takes her hand into his, looking down at them for a split second. "We're not going to start anything that you're going into thinking you're going to get hurt."

"Jess, I…"

"I'm not promising things are going to be perfect all the time. But don't come thinking we'll fail."

"Fine."

"You're lying." He smirks, making her laugh.

"I'll try. But you've got to understand that my first reaction when it comes to you is…"

"Self-defense. Trust me, I get it."

"And yet you're still so convinced it's going to be better?"

"Yes." The certainty in his voice earns him a real smile from her as she ruffles his hair.

"I believe you."

"Do you?"

"Yes." And as she whispers the word, she wraps her arm around him, her face in the crook of hid neck. "I've missed you so much."

"I know. I've missed you too." He kisses her temple softly as he pulls her closer, trying to take in as much of her as possible. "Hey, no crying." He whispers again when he feels the tears against his skin, pulling back and making her lift her head before cupping it in his hands. "What's wrong?"

"Keep thinking I'm going to wake up and this is not going to be real, I suppose. Everything's been surreal recently." She laughs at her own silliness, kissing his palm before moving her entire body forward suddenly, her mouth finding his. Pressing her lips to his as hard as she can, she smiles when his thumbs wipe her cheeks before his mouth opens slightly, pulling her lip between his. "I love you." She whispers before their mouth find each other again, more violent than before.

"I love you too." He mumbles back, kissing away the last few tears. "Do you have to go back to the inn for lunch and all that crap?"

"Yes." She laughs, nodding. "You too, mister. Luke will kill you if you're not there."

"How about I just come so I can be with you?"

"That's good too." She smiles before he captures her lips again. "Just…don't leave me again. Don't let me leave either."

"I'll stand guard every night." He whispers in her ear, draping one arm over her shoulder as he looks for the door. "Shall we go confuse the hell out of everyone?"

"Let's go."


"Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color."

W.S. Merwin-


Shooting up in bed later that night, she takes a deep breath as she clutches his hand, desperately trying to make sure he was still there.

"It's ok." Jess whispers, pressing his lips to her temple.

"You're awake." She notes, smiling as his arms circle her.

"Not taking any chances."

"You can sleep. I'm not leaving." Rory smiles, kissing him softly.

"You are leaving. You have to go to Korea."

"There will be other Koreas. There are always wars." She shrugs, looking into his eyes. "I can't leave you again."

"You'd come back." He shrugs as well, smiling.

"You'd wait?"

"Yes." He nods, lighting a cigarette as she pulls her knees up to her chest.

"How long?"

"Doesn't matter. I've waited long enough, whatever's left doesn't register."

"Years?"

"Doesn't matter." He smirks as he repeats the words, pushing a strand of hair away form her face with his free hand as he blows the smoke.

"I want to believe you."

"Where did you get all your trust issues, huh?" Jess chuckles, leaning in and kissing her, the taste of tobacco lingering on her lips.

"Dad mostly. You didn't help." Rory smiles, caressing his cheek with his thumb, the lack of contact painful.

"Send me whatever percentage you deem fit of your therapy bills." Remembering something, he jumps out of bed, cigarette balanced in the corner of his mouth as she watched.

"Where are you going?"

"I have something for you." Scouring through his bag, he finds a wrapped up package and throws it next to her. "I was going to give you this for Christmas, but then he was there, that fucking smug smile on his face the second he saw me and…"

"Sh." She calms him, kissing him as soon as he's back in bed. "I love you."

"I know that now. That doesn't mean I didn't want to punch his lights out every time he grabbed you while making sure I was watching."

"What is this?" She looks at the package.

"Open it." He offers in reply, taking another drag out of his cigarette. Carefully unsticking the tape holding the paper together, she slides the book out, letting the wrapping fall to the floor.

"You wrote another book."

"My name's on it."

Turning the book quickly in her hands, she skims over the words on the back cover, looking back at him. "This says it's a love story. You wrote a love story?"

"Accidentally."

"How does it end?"

"Wrongly. I'll have to do a sequel now." He laughs and she tilts her head to the side.

"You wrote…"

"About us." Jess nods, lighting another cigarette, trying to build a smoke wall as he forces himself to be sincere. "After you left last time. I figured it would help me get the fuck over you. Therapy through writing or some similar bullshit."

Running her fingers down his bare chest, she smiles. "I take it it didn't work."

"I was halfway through it before I stopped fighting the knowledge that I was probably doomed to love you forever. In the realistic way, not the romantic one." He tries to explain and she nods.

Her body springing forward, she covers his mouth with hers, holding the book in one hand while the other one cups his face. "I was driving back from your house." She whispers when she pulls back. "It was raining and I was trying really hard to hold it together and it just…hit. I knew."

"So why did you go back to him?"

"Because he was safe. I'm sorry."

"I'm safe."

"No. You're…a compulsion. I'd stay up sometimes and look at the two pictures of you I have and the books you scribbled notes on in high school and the copy of The Subsect and all the things I have that remind me of you, trying to suppress the need again. Like taking ibuprofen when you're really addicted to morphine." She tries to explain, her fingers tracing lines on his skin. "Because morphine isn't good for you but it's what you need. Or something. I don't know how to make things sound good, you're the writer."

Smirking, he kisses her softly, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. "I won't hurt you."

"Give it time. I'll get there." She smiles and he nods. They both need time.

"I love you." He whispers before he places a kiss on her neck, letting his cigarette extinguish itself in the ashtray.

"I love you too." Sliding under him as he pushes her down gently she smiles as his body moves closer to hers.

As he smokes another cigarette, later that night, she nestles herself on his chest, opening the book to the front page, the dedication printed on it.

"Is this for me as well?" She lifts the book for him to see and he nods, kissing the top of her head.

"Everything's for you."

"I love you infinitely and in every direction.

I love you when words matter and when they don't. I love you because you make words not matter.

I love you for stupid reasons and for clever reasons and for every reason there is. I love you without reason."