All right folks: This is going to be long, angsty, and very, very anti-Christopher. So if you like Chris, I strongly advise that you stay the hell away from this fic. Or, really, any GG fics I may choose to write. Feedback is, of course, loved and appreciated, as always. Flames will be responded to with more wit than you have, if all you can come up with is "UR STORY SUXORZ!" It's kind of sad how frequently I see that.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls. Which is too bad, because if I did, I'd have to have met Lauren Graham at some point, which would give me the opportunity to hit on her and/or flirt with her shamelessly.
Her legs disappeared. She couldn't feel them anymore; they were simply gone. With a choked sob, Lorelai collapsed on the top step of Luke's. Rory was gone, on her plane off to Iowa, and then to god-knows-where. Off taking the world by storm, the way Lorelai – and indeed, everyone in Stars Hollow – had always known she would.
She'd taken Rory to the airport and seen her on her eight thirty flight. Turning away as the plane took off was, quite possibly, one of the most painful experiences of her life, followed by another of an entirely different sort. How things could go from bad to worse so quickly. She'd meant to drive straight home and collapse into bed again – she really didn't want to face this day. Tomorrow, Lorelai could handle it. Today was too much.
Somehow, she hadn't even made it home. She'd driven half a block past Luke's and pulled over, the sensation of last night's kiss dancing over her lips, and the feeling of safety making her want nothing more than to dive into his arms.
Of course, Lorelai had absolutely no idea how Luke would take that, but she had to find out. She just prayed that, if he had some sort of problem, he could wait to hash it out. She just needed to feel safe – just for a minute.
Which would have worked, if she'd been able to actually make it into the diner. Yet, she'd stumbled before making it even that far, sitting down hard on the stone steps.
"Lorelai? Lorelai?" She felt a hand on her shoulder, a gentle, reassuring pressure. She still had shoulders, not all of her body had drifted away just yet. "Why are you down there? Come inside."
A lovely idea, of course. The only problem was that she didn't have legs; didn't he see that? She refocused her eyes, looking down at her lap. What the hell? There were legs there. Ah, of course – they hadn't disappeared, she simply couldn't feel them. "Can't… feel my legs." The words came out half broken, nearly incomprehensible.
A hand slipped under her arm, pulling her upwards. "Come on Lorelai. You are coming inside…" Luke braced her half limp body against his own as he pulled the door open, "you are sitting down at the counter," he dropped her on one of the stools, carefully placing her so that she wouldn't fall off the thing, "and you are drinking some of this heinous, teeth-yellowing, cancer-causing stuff you're so addicted to." He passed her a cup of coffee.
Moments passed. Lorelai sat there, only slightly less limp than before, staring at the cup of coffee. She'd made no attempt to even grasp the handle of the mug, let alone lift it to drink. And while Lorelai sat and stared at her coffee, Luke stood and stared at Lorelai. Something was seriously wrong, far beyond Rory going off for this job. The Lorelai he knew would be sad, yes, depressed, even, but not… lifeless. The very concept of this woman being lifeless was alien to him; she of the caffeine-induced frenzy, sugar highs and endless pop-culture references, who put a new definition to the word 'quirky', could not ever be lifeless. Not this way; it was wrong.
He threw down the rag he clutched in one hand and walked back around the counter. Pulling one of Lorelai's arms over his shoulders, he called out, "Caesar, I'll be back in a little while, I'm going upstairs. Crisis."
"Crisis? Everyone okay?"
"Lorelai's not drinking her coffee."
"Shit. All right, I'll hold the fort. It's not like it's busy in here, anyway."
With barely a grunt in reply, Luke began to haul Lorelai up the stairs. She stumbled along halfheartedly, nearly falling to her knees at several points along the way. No sound came from her, save for the occasional muffled cry or shattering sob.
Oh yeah. Something was definitely, definitely wrong.
He pushed open the door and, after stumbling a few feet, eased Lorelai down into a sitting position on the side of his bed. He crouched in front of her, gripping her shoulders loosely. "Lorelai, look at me. What's going on?"
She coughed slightly. "I, uh, ran into Chris at the airport," she sniffed, reaching up with her left hand to wipe under her eyes. "My parents called him. Told him Rory was leaving, which flight she was taking, all that."
Luke reached out and tucked two fingers under Lorelai's chin, trying to get her to look at him. Instead she turned her head to the side so he could see even less of her. "Lorelai…"
"Luke, he… he was so angry. I don't know why he was so angry." She turned forwards again, face falling into her hands. "He yelled at me. Screamed. Called me a lying, cheating…" her voice broke. It didn't matter, Luke certainly got the picture well enough. "Then he… he…" her voice dropped to a whisper.
"What, Lorelai? What did he do?"
Instead of saying anything, Lorelai simply looked up, allowing Luke to see her face for the first time since six am. His eyes widened in shock momentarily before his features turned livid. One hand fell from Lorelai's arm and clenched into a fist at his side.
One eye was black, her mouth was swollen and red, and blood stained her upper lip.
Ahaha... yes, I know, you hate me, me and my damned cliffhangers.
