This is an R/J fan fiction piece written from Jess's point of view and interspersed with dialog directly from the show. Takes place immediately after 'Teach Me Tonight' and extends beyond the Season 2 finale, at which point I totally made up the plotline. This story may already be a little out of date, seeing as how people are already writing fiction based on spoilers from Season 3. But hey, this is the story that I want to tell.

There's some mild swearing, particularly in the beginning, but it's not too bad.

Spoilers: The end of Season 2: 2.19 'Teach Me Tonight', 2.20 'Help Wanted', 2.21 'Lorelai's Graduation Day' and 2.22 'I Can't Get Started'.

Refers, ever so briefly, to 2.10 'The Bracebridge Dinner', 2.12 'Richard in Stars Hollow', 2.13 'A-Tisket, A-Tasket', 2.15 'Lost and Found', 2.16 'There's the Rub' and 2.17 'Dead Uncles and Vegetables'.

I, of course, do not own the Gilmore Girls characters, or the portions of the plotline which I took from the show's transcripts.

Feel free to review. I'd appreciate it. This is the first story I've ever written.

***

RETURNING HOME, PART ONE

CHAPTER ONE. UPROOTED AND LONELY

***

Jess saw Luke approaching him on the bridge even before he heard the heavy footsteps fall on the wooden planks. "I made sure she was OK," Jess croaked.

"I know you did," came Luke's fatigued response as he sat down next to Jess, legs dangling just above the shimmering water.

"How'd you find out?" Jess inquired.

"Lorelai came in looking for you."

"She hates me I assume."

"I didn't say that."

"She hates me I assume," Jess reiterated.

Luke sighed then and confessed. "She's got a pretty good hate on, but it'll clear up when she cools down."

"How's Rory? Did she say?"

"Ahh… she's got a fractured wrist."

"Oh. Shit." Jess dejectedly tossed his dwindling cigarette into the lake and reached for his pack to start on another one.

***

Jess walked around his apartment – Luke's apartment, it wasn't Jess's any more – picking up items he would take with him to New York. He could only take the most important things. Luke would have to send the rest out later. It was the second time Jess had been uprooted in roughly six months.

Luke was on the phone again, trying to call up his sister, Jess's mother. "Come on, pick up. Why aren't you home?" he muttered.

"Don't worry about it Luke."

"Well she should know you're coming. She can pick you up from the station."

"I'll manage. I know the way." Jess had just placed his stereo in a duffel bag and was padding it with his clothes. Finishing that, he began to flip through his CDs looking for his favourites.

"I wish you wouldn't leave tonight."

"You said it was for the best." From the way Luke had been acting, Jess was pretty sure Luke was only sending him away to appease Lorelai. Luke loved Lorelai and Lorelai wanted Jess gone.

"Well… It probably is for the best, but if you're going to go, you should wait till tomorrow."

"I'm going now. There's another bus tonight." Now Jess was packing his books. Although he wanted to take all of them, he only took certain paperbacks. He would have to lug all this stuff around a long way tonight and didn't want to add to the load too much.

Luke was sitting on the couch watching him. "You know, a car accident is not the end of the world."

Tell that to Lorelai, Jess thought. He had just walked into the bathroom, looking for his comb and toothbrush. He pretended he couldn't hear Luke.

Half an hour later Luke was seeing Jess off at the bus station. "Call me to let me know you got home safe. Alright Jess?"

"Right." He couldn't imagine Luke asking that with sincerity. He'd kicked Jess out for a would-be lover, just like his mother had done before. Wishing his uncle would just go back home, Jess placed his duffel bag in the cargo hold of the bus and threw his backpack over his shoulder. "Well see ya."

"Bye Jess," Luke replied as Jess stepped onto the bus.

Once inside, Jess surveyed the scene and chose a seat near the back. He sat beside the window and tossed his backpack on the seat next to him. With any luck, no one would sit next to him. When the bus pulled away from the depot some 15 minutes later, Jess sighed. In three and a half hours he would be home. He bunched up his jacket, placed it in the crook of his neck and tried to get some sleep.

***

Jess woke up some 45 minutes later when the bus stopped in Bridgeport, Connecticut. The lights came on and people were bustling about, getting bags from the overhead bins. It was just a quick stop but he had a chance to hop out, buy some chips and have a smoke with the other addicts. Jess had quit smoking in the previous weeks, but now he was back at it.

Fifteen minutes later, they were once again cruising down the highway. The bus was more full; there was a man sitting next to Jess now, reading the Wall Street Journal with an overhead light. Jess turned away from him as best he could in the seat and stared out the window. Already the landscape looked more populated as they left Stars Hollow behind. He watched the other vehicles outside his window. Some the bus passed; others passed the bus by. Even at this late hour, there's a lot of traffic out there; all those people going on with their lives. It's as if they don't know that everything is falling apart.

***

A good two hours later, Jess stuck the key in the lock and jiggled it for a while. There was a certain trick to opening this deadbolt and after six months away, it took him a moment to get it right. He picked up his bags and swung the door open with his foot.

"Ah! Shit!" He yelled when he looked up. The person on the other side of the door yelled the same thing.

There was his mother, standing tensely with a hand on a kitchen knife, pointed right at him. "What the hell? Dammit Jess! You scared me! What are you doing here?" she demanded.

Jess, relieved he hadn't gotten slashed, pushed past her with his bags and she followed him down the hall.

"What are you doing here?" she asked again, seeming calmer now.

"I got my bags. What the hell does it look like?" he looked at her finally. He'd said it more loudly and sarcastically than he'd intended to. He watched that old familiar rigidity creep into her shoulders and eyebrows. Dammit! He was always screwing things up. Now his mother was going to yell at him again. Well he wouldn't let her. He strode into his room and slammed the door in her face.

Tossing his bags in the corner, he turned the light on and sighed. Same old room. How depressing. His mother was trying to open his door as she knocked on it, but he'd already secured it with the latch he himself had installed, years before, just to keep her out.

Surprisingly, she stopped knocking and moved away from the door, eliminating his need to hook up his stereo and drown her out. It was good, he thought uncharacteristically, because who needed music anyway? And he sure as hell didn't feel like unpacking. He turned off his light again and flung himself on the bed.

He lay there in the darkness for a while, feeling dead inside. In a while, he heard the voice of his mother through the paper-thin walls. She was talking to Luke on the phone, he guessed. Now she would know all about the accident. Damn accident.

He knew she would come to his door again, and she did. He pulled his old blanket over his body - clothes, shoes and all. When she knocked and called him louder, he pulled the blanket over his head and tried to fall asleep.

***

The next few days were much of the same. Jess avoided his mother as best he could. Though she'd tried incessantly to get his attention, he'd barely said two words to her. Jess would hide out in his room until his mother's inquiries into his private life got too obnoxious. Then he would walk out on her and take his depression and self-loathing with him to the park.

Jess, in fact, had barely spoken to anyone in days. Thus far, he hadn't even bothered to contact his friends; hadn't felt like throwing himself back into life in the Village. Doing so would mean putting the time he spent in Stars Hollow behind him, and Jess didn't feel like ignoring, just yet, how his time in the tiny community had changed him.

Most of all, he just felt like sitting there in his darkened room and reading or thinking about Rory. Both activities, however, would now usually upset him; reading made him think of Rory anyway. He preferred to think about the good times – the times when he'd thought he had a chance with her – but the accident kept creeping into his brain.

It was on the sixth day that he heard it. As he was lying on his bed in the dimness of the early evening, he heard a muffled sound through the wall. Shit, he thought. He'd never heard his mother crying before. For a good 10 minutes he tried to block it out of his mind, tried to concentrate on his book. He turned up his stereo, which he'd eventually gotten around to hooking up. But still he thought of his mother. She's crying cause of you, you jackass, he thought to himself.

Finally he couldn't stand it. He just couldn't stand it. With a grunt of exasperation, Jess turned out his penlight, closed his book and threw his blanket off of him onto the floor. He unlatched and flung open his door and stomped the short distance to her bedroom.

From there, he could hear her sniffling still, but she wasn't outright crying anymore. Realizing she was calmer was almost enough to turn him right around again, and send him back to the shelter of his unlit room, but for some reason he found himself knocking on his mother's door. The sniffles got louder but more controlled as she came closer to the door. He just stared at her once she opened it. He was expecting to feel some sort of hatred at the sight of her. But she just looked small and frail, and his heart softened a little bit.

He sighed then and, all of a sudden, in a bizarre twist of fate, found her arms around him. She was hugging him with all her might. With a start, he realized it must have been six years or more since the last time his mother had hugged him. What was even more surprising, however, was the fact that it felt comforting. In his confused state, Jess pried himself out of her arms and asked her if she wanted any coffee. It had slipped out of his lips before he realized she never drank the stuff. It was Rory who did.

"No thanks, Sweetie," she replied wiping unruly tears off of her cheeks, a tentative smile tugging at her lips.

Jess raised an eyebrow. She'd called him 'Sweetie'? Now that was really weird. It had been at least twelve years since she'd done that. 'Boy!' or 'Jess Anthony Mariano!' were usually more her speed. Actually, she looked a little surprised that she'd said it herself.

"How about I make us some soup?" she questioned, again slightly out of character.

Soup? Oh well, at least she was trying. And he was a little bit hungry, having not eaten since that afternoon at the hotdog stand. When he nodded, she guided him down the hall and began bustling around the kitchen. He'd never seen her bustle in a kitchen in his life. Out of force of habit, he began clearing off the dinner table. It was a habit that he'd only developed since working at Luke's diner. They eyed each other warily; as they each continued doing things the other had never seen them do before.

They ate in silence of course. He sure as hell didn't know what to say to her. But, for the first time in a long time, it wasn't a hostile silence.

"How are you doing Jess?" Her gentle words were like gunfire cutting through the stillness of the room. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

Clearing his throat, he replied "I've been better, Liz." His reply was meant to bring them closer, but his calling her by her first name was meant to keep the distance intact. He didn't know why he was always driving them apart.

She just smiled though, as if the fact that they were finally talking meant the world to her. It would have disgusted him if he hadn't been so lonely during the past few days. Though he tried to keep it in, he felt impelled to speak again. "You heard about the car accident, I assume."

She had, but she asked him about it anyway and despite her intrusion into his private matters, he relayed the details. He even alluded to how good things were going with Rory, before he smashed her car and broke her wrist. He got a little choked up at that part.

Slumping his shoulders and resting his free hand on the table, he half-heartedly stirred the soup in front of him. It was actually pretty good soup, although he wouldn't exactly call his mother a homemaker just yet. He jumped again when she placed a hand over his. It was a comforting gesture but it made him wonder what aliens had taken over her body. For once though, no sarcastic remarks sprang to his lips.

She asked him more about Rory, but he couldn't speak about her. She accepted his speechlessness and just looked at him knowingly, a gesture which unnerved him. Had he revealed his feelings for Rory?

He found himself asking her how she was doing. Anything to get the subject off of Rory, he supposed. She began to describe how she was getting her life back on track for the first time since his father had run out two years earlier.

She lit up a cigarette. Jess watched. Liz tended towards the same health-nut lifestyle as Luke lived by; Jess wondered how she had ever picked up smoking. Holding out the pack of smokes, she offered him one too. She queried, "You still smoke?"

"Not sure."

She looked at him quizzically. "You don't know?"

"Luke had me on this non-smoking regimen."

"Sounds like Luke."

"I'd kicked it. But I started again the other day."

"After the accident?"

"Yeah."

"Well you shouldn't start again. Geez! Look at me; I'm your mother and I'm offering you a cigarette? What is wrong with me?"

"I don't even feel like one anyway. Maybe I should quit for good."

"Maybe I should too. Filthy habit." She didn't put out her cigarette though.

"I guess you've noticed that Lonnie hasn't been around since you've been back." She was referring to the latest man she'd run around with after Jess's father left.

As a matter of fact Jess hadn't noticed the absence of Lonnie; he'd been too wrapped up in his own world, too busy locking himself in his room. Jess just stared, waiting for her to get to the point.

"Well I stopped seeing him a couple of weeks ago."

"Good," Jess interjected. "I never liked that jackass." Lonnie hadn't liked Jess either. He'd thought Jess too much of a troublemaker, and had willingly shared this opinion with Liz. That was how Jess found himself in Stars Hollow in the first place; Lonnie had brought it up. Jess was just a little bit bitter on the issue. Maybe Jess had been a troublemaker, but sending him away shouldn't have been Lonnie's decision to make.

Ignoring the harshness in his comment, she continued. "Yeah, turns out he was a jackass, although I didn't find out until much later." Her matter-of-fact voice went on. "Anyway, I never should have taken his word over yours, Jess. I'm sorry."

Jess just nodded and looked back down at his bowl of soup. She continued telling him about her life, and for once he sat and listened to what she was saying. "I've been taking a pottery class at the community college. It's to kill time basically, although I do enjoy it. It helps me to clear my head."

She flicked some ash into the ashtray and went on "And pottery keeps me out of trouble. Keeps me away from jackasses like Lonnie. I sure know how to pick 'em."

She laughed while he smirked. All at once, Jess realized they hadn't spoken at all during the entire time he'd been staying with Luke, not that they'd spoken much before that. In the last couple of years, her boyfriends, come and go as they might, had taken up most of her time. What little time Liz had for Jess had been wasted when Jess would walk out on her.

It shocked him to realize, he was enjoying her company.

"I guess we could all use something to keep us out of trouble," he revealed.

"Now that I've gone and told you all about my sorry love life, what about you? Tell me more about Rory," she'd begun prying again, gone too far.

Jess scowled. Again she brings up Rory! Only a few short moments before, Jess had felt comfortable with his mother. Now as Jess sat at their little round kitchen table, he felt claustrophobic. He could no longer remember what his relationship with his mother was supposed to be. Standing up abruptly, his thigh bumping the table in his haste, he put his finished bowl in the sink and asserted, "Gotta go."

When she asked him where he was going, those same old feelings of annoyance crept back into him. Deep down he knew that she was only concerned for his well being, but his eyes and ears refused to sense anything but the invasion of his privacy. Much to his dismay, words slipped out of his mouth that he'd have taken back if he could, "None of your business, Lizzie". Grabbing his jacket, he was out the door in a flash.

He felt shaken as he stepped out of the elevator, into the lobby. His mother's stricken look was still in his mind. Dammit, he'd left in such a hurry that he'd forgotten his book.

Well maybe he'd buy a new book. He had his wallet with him. And he sure as hell didn't want to go back upstairs to their little apartment.

Outside the city streets were lively as usual. He'd taken New York's hustle and bustle for granted before, but now he would always compare it to the relative lifelessness in Stars Hollow. Stars Hollow wasn't so bad actually. He'd thought the town had been hell at first but it was the kind of thing a person could get used to.

His unexpected discussion with his mother had put him in a pensive mood. When he had almost reached his favourite bookstore, he decided to walk right past it.

Soon he was sitting in Washington Square Park, as he was prone to doing. With his hands in his jacket pockets, he slouched on the bench and surveyed the scene with an observant eye, his thoughts drifting to Rory.

Why hadn't he just studied with her on his last night there, instead of trying to get her attention? In retrospect, it probably would have impressed her more if he had shown that he also cared about learning. And Jess did care; he just didn't particularly subscribe to the structured learning of a classroom.

But Jess just hadn't been able to stop wishing for the kind of relationship with her that she had with that damn jerk Dean. The kind of relationship where they could spend time together, no strings attached. The kind where he could just be with her, without having to resort to buying her basket, or hijacking her carriage, or even having her tutor him. But wishing for it didn't make it so. Dean was Rory's boyfriend and Jess didn't have that kind of relationship with her, though deep down he thought they might have had the potential for it.

He'd tried to distract her from her work all that night. He hadn't been sure his efforts were working until the moment they were cruising in her car and she was telling him to turn right. Man, that made his heart pound. At that moment he finally began to feel like they had the relationship he desired. She wanted to be with him too, no strings attached. Admittedly, the happy realization may have distracted him from the road a bit. Then that damn creature ran across the street, and within moments his excitement had been replaced by dread and shame.

He'd already apologized for the accident a million times, the night it happened. But it would never be enough. Her wrist would heal, but he'd always feel the horrible burden of what he had done to her. Even now, he felt compelled to express his regrets. No. More than that, he simply felt like hearing her voice. There was a payphone on the corner and he stared at it for a while. He needed to know if she could forgive him.

As he pondered her forgiveness, an idea was formulating in his brain. The night of the accident, he'd had it stuck in his head that she'd never speak to him again, even in the face of Luke's attempts to tell him otherwise. Now he realized what Luke had been saying, and what he himself knew all along: Rory wasn't like that. She was so kind; she would never hold a grudge. In fact, she hadn't even been mad at him that night. He didn't know what'd convinced him she had been.

Again he stared at that payphone.

With an exasperated groan, he heaved himself out of the bench and commenced the slow, long journey to the phone, as though in a dream where no matter how desperately he runs, the destination never arrives. By the time he reached the phone, Jess's heart was pounding in his ears. He knew her phone number by heart. He had enough money for a short phone call. He knew what he would say in the event that Lorelai answered. Now he just needed to make his hands pick up the receiver and dial. As it turned out, that was the hard part.

Somehow mustering his courage, he dialed and was relieved to hear her voice say "Hello".

"Hi" he said smiling. Then all he heard was the music surrounding her. "…Hello?"

Finally she spoke again. "Hi."

"Is this a bad time?" His heart still pounded and his legs felt watery. Maybe she didn't want to speak to him. Or maybe she was with Dean.

"Um, no… just hold on a sec." He heard her speak to someone, a scuffle and then the sounds of a door being shut. The music was muffled now. "Hi."

"You said that already."

"I did. You're right. Sorry." When she apologized, he felt like a jerk again. Why am I such a smart ass to everyone?

He changed the subject. "So, what's up?"

"Nothing… what about you?"

"Same," he said, reflecting on the cute intonation her voice had acquired.

"So, what have you been doing?"

"Nothing much." Having weird conversations with my mother… Running out on people… Feeling guilty… he thought. "Just hangin' out… in the park mostly."

"Central Park?" she inquired.

"Washington Square Park. It's cooler. It's where David Lee Roth got busted."

"Right, Right." She said, "I hope he's got it together now." He smiled. Her response had been perfect. She always could keep up with Jess.

"Sounds like you got a party goin' on there." He hoped she didn't. He especially hoped Dean wasn't there.

"No, it's just me and my mom."

"Right." Now there was someone who had a good relationship with her mother – frighteningly good. He paused for a moment. "Okay well," he said letting his breath out in a gust, "I'm gonna go. This is long distance." He didn't really want to go, but he didn't have enough change on him for a longer call. He would have to call again some other time.

Rory sounded sorry to say goodbye. "Yeah. It is long distance." At that moment, he felt two worlds away from her.

"So… See ya." He said. He didn't know what else he could say.

"Yeah… See ya."

And that was that. They were disconnected again and he almost felt worse than he had before he called. Why couldn't he have thought of something better to say to her than that? And then he remembered: he hadn't even asked her about her wrist, or the car or anything! And he'd forgotten to apologize.

Feeling disgusted with himself, he went back and reclaimed his bench. In spite of the chill in the air, he sat there for quite a while that night.