Twist of Night
A/N: Takes place sometime during the L/L breakup of Season 5, the timeline is slightly tweaked, however. Written for Softydog88 for the 2006 Picaficathon. (Caps are at the end.)
She can't think anymore, feel anymore. The fighting drains her deeply and really it's just too much to take. She wants with her whole body to just collapse on the floor where she's standing, to fall into a puddle there in the corner where no one will notice her and she can be alone. So she can be alone without him, without her life. Why does she want this again? She thinks on it, but can't remember anything other than the sharp sting of his words and the hoarseness in her own throat as she tried to scream away her problems. But now it all means nothing, there is nothing without him and she knows it, but still the helpless feeling lingers. The despair is creeping up inside her and she leans against the wall for support, wishing again that she didn't have to be standing. But she needs to do this, needs it with everything inside of her. She needs him and it's almost killing her inside to admit it.
What else is there to do? She surely cannot go on without him, the past few days have proven that to her beyond a shadow of a doubt, but now as she stands in the dark outside his apartment she can't help but wonder if he'll ever forgive her. Wonder if they'll ever go back to the way things used to be. She hopes so, for both their sakes.
Just as she takes her last huge gulp of night air in preparation of heading inside she hears the door jingle and she jumps backward into the shadows. It's one o'clock in the morning and she can't fathom what Luke's doing awake at that hour, let alone why he's walking quickly away from the diner, in the opposite direction of anything really familiar. Where is he going? she wonders to herself as she watches his determined gait take him farther and farther away from her. She's about to turn back and head home, her measly shred of courage now gone, but her curiosity gets the better of her and she can't resist following quietly behind him.
Luke has a couple of very defined kinds of walks. The one he uses when he's relaxed has his legs taking long, slow strides and his shoes hitting the ground softly. Then there's the annoyed walk where he kind of stomps around quickly, flinging his arms around. And then there's this one, the determined one where every step has a purpose, every stride has a definite direction. He knows exactly where he's going.
Trailing quietly behind him, Lorelai makes her way through the center of town. No one is out at this time of night so no one spots her curious behavior, although she's not too sure anyone would even mention anything if they saw her wandering around town, there were much weirder things in Stars Hollow after all. She's running scenarios through her head, trying to come up with a place that Luke might be heading but she comes up empty as they turn down a side street.
Luke's hands are fidgety the whole time, always adjusting his cap or pulling his old army jacket closer to his body, but he never stops walking. Lorelai feels a bit like a detective as she follows behind him, careful not to make a sound, but she can't think of any cool detectives who were depressed and following around their boyfriends – ex boyfriends – in the middle of the night. And she's pretty sure if she were a detective that she'd know where the hell he was walking to. So she just follows him, until he slows considerably and stops in the middle of the street in front of the Twickham house. Old man Twickham had passed away a few weeks earlier, but Lorelai didn't know if Luke was ever close with him, they had been separated at the time of his funeral.
Stepping a bit closer, Lorelai watches as Luke makes his way quietly up the front steps, stopping to run his fingers around the door knob before he tries turning it gently. A sharp creek slices through the quiet street and Lorelai jumps, covering her mouth with her hand to stop the gasp from escaping. Luke had pushed the old door open and was walking inside, leaving the door cracked behind him. This was it, Lorelai could turn back home and come after him another night or just go inside. Sighing heavily, Lorelai's eyes dart between the house and the street where they had just been walking… In or out. Just as she takes a step backward she feels a tiny drop of moisture stick to the side of her face. Her hand slowly comes up to her cheek to wipe at the freezing flake of snow, and her head tilts upward catching the dozens more that are now flurrying down from the sky. It's snowing.
A small smile creases Lorelai's face for the first time in weeks and she turns her gaze back to the Twickham house. She's not going home tonight without talking to Luke, and that was that.
Following in Luke's footsteps, she makes her way quietly up the steps of the house, squeezing through the crack that Luke has left in the door. She can see his silhouette gazing out the window on the far side of the house, looking out at the falling snow. She stands silently behind him as he reaches his hand up to trace a scribbled pattern in the condensation on the glass as he lets out a sigh that fogs over the designs he has been making. Silence permeates the entire room and Lorelai almost startles herself when she clears her throat softly. Luke's head pops up quickly, he has been completely unaware of her presence behind him.
"What are you doing here?" he asks softly, turning away from her to look back out the window.
She glances down at her shuffling feet, and walks over to prop herself on an adjacent wall, feeling too exposed to stand alone in the middle of the spacious room.
"I saw you walking." She doesn't elaborate, doesn't even know where to start.
They stand in silence for minutes that drag on like hours; Lorelai's eyes are fixed on the shadowed profile of Luke's face. He takes a breath and adjusts his cap. "This isn't how it was supposed to be." He pauses, thinking, still not looking at her. He can see the expression on her face without even moving his eyes to look at her, so he just decides to let it out. What has he got to loose after all?
"I used to come here when I was younger, it was my favorite house. It was empty for a little bit before Twickham bought it and I used to sneak inside through a hole in the screen door around the side and read my comic books or do my homework or just sit and think. It was right after my mom died, and I had to get out of the house, I couldn't stand being there with all the sadness and everyone so crazy to get back some semblance of normality that everyone was completely out of control. This place was the only quiet place I could find, and no one else knew about it. I used to try and picture my future and I decided that one day, I would get married and buy this house and live here with a real family. No mom dying, no sister getting pregnant and running off, no reason for me to run off." Luke stops then and steals a small glance at Lorelai who has an expression of bewilderment on her face.
Luke never opens up about his past to her, and Lorelai is supremely surprised that he has picked this moment to spill his guts. She takes a step toward him, finally abandoning her perch on the wall. She finally gets it now, gets how much this really means to him and it scares her. She wants him so much, but she's not sure that she can handle the pressure of being that person for Luke. Not sure she can keep herself from disappointing him, and that's what's really scaring her. What if she's not good enough? She knows she could never live with herself if Luke rejects her for good. And truly, could she ever live without him?
"I was going to buy this place, you know. For…" Luke lets his voice trail off, the implication of his words plain enough to be understood without being spoken.
Lorelai chokes back a sob, and takes three steps toward him, stopping just outside of his personal space. How could she be so blind, so stupid? They were both too far in this relationship to ever come back out again, and she knows that she has to try to make this better for both their sakes. She needs to make this better before she loses it for good. "Luke…" she starts, but he just nods and wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his side. She shivers at the contact, he hasn't touched her in weeks and she is instantly addicted to the feeling again.
Neither of them speak as they watch the snow falling heavy outside the window, his hand is rubbing down the length of her arm slowly. She buries her face in his neck and breathes in his scent like it's the only thing keeping her alive and she snuggles in closer to make sure he's not going anywhere. The squeeze of pressure on her hand is enough to assure her for the moment, but she doesn't step out of his embrace.
The snow starts falling heavier, and begins piling on the windowsill. They both notice it, and realize that it must be late, but they don't move until Lorelai lets out a tiny yawn.
"Tired?" Luke whispers softly into her ear.
Lorelai tries not to be indecent as she remembers other times he has whispered in just that way as she nods and he takes a step toward the door, guiding her with him. They are both holding on to each other tightly which makes it a little bit awkward to walk, and as they take their final step off the porch of the house, Lorelai's foot lands in a slippery patch of snow and she is knocked off balance. Luke grabs her tighter with the arm he already has around her waist, but it only causes him to topple over right along with her. He does manage to lodge himself between the ground and Lorelai's body, but his foot has other ideas as it twists in the other direction. He grunts slightly as Lorelai giggles into his chest. "Well, that certainly was a graceful moment," she mumbles as she rolls off of him and into the powdery snow next to her. She lays there for a moment, the both of them side by side, and then pushes herself into a standing position, grabbing Luke's hand to pull him up too.
Luke winces slightly as he gets to his feet and only rests his weight on his right foot. "Are you okay?" Lorelai asks, concerned as she grabs his shoulders to steady him.
"I think I twisted my ankle."
Lorelai's expression is thoughtful for a moment, and then she loops an arm through his and leads him carefully toward the road. "Let's get you home so you can elevate it or whatever."
"Or whatever?"
"Yeah, you know." Lorelai waves her free hand vaguely in the air which makes Luke laugh.
"You have no idea what to do with a twisted ankle do you?"
Lorelai scoffs, "Of course I do! I can do everything mister. You just wait." She turns her head to the side so he doesn't see her grin, and they both hobble down the road and back toward the center of town.
It takes them longer to get back to Luke's than it took for them to walk from there earlier because Luke is limping and they're both a little drained. But they make it successfully and walk arm in arm up the old stairs and into Luke's dark apartment. Lorelai finds the light switch from memory, not needing to take her eyes off of Luke to flood the room with light. Both squinting their eyes from the sudden brightness, they collapse onto the bed after the difficult walk.
"Your foot feeling any better?" Lorelai asks, staring at the ceiling.
"Mostly just hurts," Luke says as he too looks straight above where he is laying.
Truth be told, Lorelai has no idea what to do to make a twisted ankle feel better. Even when she had broken her own leg, Rory had brought her junk food and movies to distract her, and she's pretty sure that giving Luke junk food will kill him or something. Distractions, distractions… she thinks to herself, but can only come up with one kind that she knows Luke is very responsive too. She rolls her head to the side and attempts to move her arm up to Luke's face, or chest, or anywhere else she can reach from her horizontal position but she instead lets out another yawn and her arm flops onto Luke's stomach.
"Wanna just go to sleep?"
Oh Luke, you know me too well , Lorelai chuckles to herself. "Mm, yes. Bed sounds awesome right now."
"Come on," Luke grunts as he pulls her with him up to the pillows. They spend a minute moving blankets and fluffing pillows and snuggling down before Lorelai realizes the lights are all on. She starts scooting out of bed when Luke grabs her around the waist. "Where are you going?" he asks quickly.
"Just turning out the lights. Do you need anything for your foot?"
"Nah, I'm good."
Lorelai flicks off the light switch and crawls back into Luke's warm bed, so very glad that she's not alone at home missing him anymore. He seems glad too as his arms snake around her, pulling her body close to his. She sighs and runs her hand along the arm slung around her waist, stopping to intertwine her fingers with his. Luke uses his other hand to sweep away the dark mass of hair accumulated around Lorelai's neck as he leans in gently and places a flurry of feather light kisses along the column of her neck. She sighs as Luke's hand detangles from hers and starts playing at the hem of her t-shirt. When his fingers splay against her bare stomach, Lorelai can't help but moan a little at the intimate contact, and her eyes drift shut as she enjoys the sensations of Luke's hands on her neglected body.
The pads of his fingers work gently as he traces circles around her belly button, and then his hand lies flat as his palm rubs its way a little higher. He takes his time touching every inch of her chest, and then his hand slowly comes to rest back over the center of her stomach. "I love you," he whispers in her ear as he settles his head into the same pillow as hers.
Lorelai smiles and sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, biting it softly. "I love you too." She can feel Luke's grin on the back of her neck, and she can't help the matching one that spreads across every feature of her face. This moment feels so right to her, feels so at home, so natural that she has absolutely no doubt that this is where she's supposed to be. She has no doubt that this is where she wants to be. As she slips off to sleep, the soft tone of Luke's voice is bouncing around in her head, making her feel more loved than she's ever felt in her life.
The next afternoon, Lorelai's feet crunch along the snow covered ground loudly as she passes by a Stars Hollow resident and under the jingling bell of Luke's Diner. The bright sun shining all around her brings back a brief memory of the way she had been standing in the shadows only the night before, feeling miserable and how completely opposite she feels today. She spots Luke behind the counter, and he gives her a strange look when he sees what she's trying to hide behind her back.
"What are you carrying?" he asks quizzically.
Lorelai attempts to shove the large bag out of view, "Nothing!" Luke takes a step toward her, still limping slightly. "Stay right there mister or I'll have to take you down in your weakened state." Lorelai gives him a look like she really means it and he rolls his eyes.
"Why did you come in here with a giant bag if you didn't want me to see it?"
"Well," Lorelai starts, matter-of-factly, "I need to borrow your apartment for a little while. And my bag needs to come with me."
"Your bag has needs now too?"
"We both have needs Luke; it's been a long couple of weeks…" Lorelai winks obnoxiously and Luke's face reddens as a few of the diner patrons snigger to themselves.
"Okay, okay. Go upstairs, but please don't kill yourself or anything. You look like you're up to no good."
"You're such a worrier." Lorelai leans in and gives him a slow kiss on the mouth, "Don't come up until I say though, okay?"
"Yeah, okay."
"Thanks babe," Lorelai breathes at him as she backs her way toward the stairs. She turns back quickly though, reaching into her bag. "Almost forgot!" Lorelai pulls out a yellow daisy from the bag, thrusting it in Luke's direction. He takes it hesitantly.
"What's this for?"
"For your foot." Luke looks confused. "You know, flowers to make you feel better, blah blah blah. All the healthy people do it for you sick people."
Luke decides to just let her explanation go as he twirls the flower stiffly in his fingers. "Okay…but where am I going to put it? I don't have a vase."
"Oh do not even start with me, it's not Thanksgiving yet!" They both laugh as Lorelai heads back toward the stairs. "Ooh, maybe you should put it in your hair! Sexxx-ay."
"Go upstairs before I grab your needy little bag!"
"Dirty!" Lorelai shouts as she giggles her way up the steps. Luke is left smiling to himself with a yellow daisy clutched in his hand in the middle of the diner as Kirk walks in and laughs. Luke shoots him a death glare and Kirk is lost in a coughing fit as he collapses into a nearby chair. The flower is set on the counter next to the register as Luke goes back to work, wondering what Lorelai is up to in his apartment.
As the night winds down, and Luke has all but forgotten Lorelai's presence above him, the phone rings shrilly through the diner. Luke deposits the plates he is holding and picks it up on the second ring. "Luke's" he says into the receiver.
"Hey baby," Lorelai coos huskily.
Luke stutters for a moment, "Uh hey."
"Can Cesar close for you tonight? I want you to come upstairs."
"Um yeah sure, he's already closing anyway. Should I…uh…come up now?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, well see ya in a minute."
"Bye."
They both hang up, and Luke takes a deep breath as he leans his head into the kitchen to tell Cesar he's taking off to go upstairs.
Luke stands outside his apartment door for a few seconds before deciding to knock. He's not sure exactly what Lorelai's got going on in there, so his fist raps twice on the wood as he waits for her voice. Instead Lorelai opens the door herself, dressed in a silky black dress with a giant smile on her face. She leans in to kiss him gently as she pulls his arm to lead him inside.
Luke's expression is one of surprise as he takes in the scene before him. The table is set for two with a fancy tablecloth, wine glasses, and plates of food crammed onto every inch of the small surface. Soft music is playing in the background as Lorelai waves her hand across her creations. "What do you think?" she beams at him.
"Did you…" Luke pauses, "did you do all this?"
"Me and my needy bag, yes." She is grinning, and it's infectious.
Luke surveys the food on the table carefully for a moment, "Did you cook all this stuff?"
Lorelai swats him on the arm, "Yes I did! Stop looking at it like it's poison, it's fine. I taste tested it myself."
Luke is skeptical, but plays along. "It actually looks good."
"That's because it's going to be delicious! Sit down so we can start, this cooking thing made me starving."
They both sit and Lorelai plays the hostess as she scoops all kinds of food onto both of their plates and pours the wine into their glasses. Luke dwells for a second at how good it feels to have her back in his apartment, and then she sits across from him and he forgets all about times that were bad between them and focuses on the goodness he is faced with.
Lorelai stabs her fork into her food and is about to take a bite when she notices Luke staring at her. "You okay?" Luke just nods slightly. "I swear the food is edible! Jeeze…"
He shakes his head, snapping out of his daze, "I'm sure it is," he covers lamely.
"You go first then, take the first bite."
Luke rolls his eyes, but stabs some pasta with his fork and points it at her. "Here we go. And I just want to tell you, just in case I die…"
"Luke!"
He slips the fork into his mouth, tasting the slightly overcooked pasta and very spicy sauce, but really it isn't too bad. And it's very obvious that Lorelai actually cooked all this food herself. She was waiting with her fork poised halfway to her mouth, watching for his reaction. "Hmmm," he draws out ambiguously.
"Luke! Come on!"
His face breaks into a smile, "It's actually pretty good."
"Don't sound so surprised." Her voice mocks annoyance, but the small smile on her face as she starts eating her dinner betrays her true feelings. The happiness in the room is palpable.
Late that night, Lorelai lay draped over Luke's bare chest breathing contentedly. Luke is sleeping, his breath even and soothing against her cheek. Late at night is the time when she has some of her most profound thoughts about her life, and herself, and conveniently, she hardly ever remembers the details of these discoveries the next morning. Tonight, however, Lorelai's thoughts are hovering on the edge of unconsciousness and delirious sleepiness and the only thought she can pick out from the jumble in her brain is 'Mrs. Luke Danes. Mrs. Danes. Lorelai Danes.' And then she feels giddy and smiles wider as she slips closer to sleep. The silly mantra resounds in her head like a child's song that loops through your brain with its sugary sweetness and drives you mad with its insistency, but she can hardly bring herself to care. It sounds too perfect, too amazing to really cause a bother, and as she finally falls into sleep her dreams are filled with flashes of lacy things and white and Luke and just happiness . And she'll remember this when she wakes up, wrapped up in Luke and wrapped up in her future because really, how could she