Chapter 1: If Something Happens to Me
The sunlight did not stream into the bedroom the way that it used to. A grayish, hazy gloom had been blanketing the dawns above Stars Hollow; so far, it had been a cold, dreary fall. Luke Danes stirred at the graying light, even if he felt like he didn't want to get out of bed. But he had to, Caesar had been covering for him enough as it was, allowing the boss to sleep in late far more frequently than he ever had before in his life.
It wasn't because Luke did not have a pretty damn good reason.
Craning his neck around, Luke gazed down at his fiancé, Lorelai Gilmore. Even in sleep, her face was creased. Tear tracks stained her pillow. There were dark circles under her eyes, from the nights when she hadn't been so lucky to fall asleep at all. Which was better, Luke had to wonder: a tortured sleep or no sleep? The last time Lorelai had had a peaceful sleep, it had been months ago.
Before the Estrangement.
Even now, Luke only knew bits and pieces of the tale, and only from Lorelai's side of the story. Rory had been crushed by a review at a newspaper internship, dropped out of Yale and stolen a boat with some hooligan. Rory Gilmore, Stars Hollow's perfect little angel princess. Stolen a boat. A boat. It didn't make sense, and even if Luke encountered head-scratchers daily in this wacky town, this was the biggest head-scratcher of them all, because it was so out of character.
Luke didn't want to leave the love of his life like this, and anyway, an overcast day like today - even in the best of times - always did a number on his mood. A doctor had once told him he suffered from seasonal depression, which made a certain kind of sense. Given how stressed and strained everything was for his girls now, the crummy weather just made Luke feel worse. He had to rock himself onto his feet just to get out of bed and padded downstairs to the kitchen, hearing the clicking of nails behind him as Paul Anka dutifully followed.
Luke made a cup of coffee for himself, and an extra creamy cup for Lorelai, intending to leave the latter on the counter for her when she woke up. He hoped she would sleep in a little bit today, no matter what kind of sleep it was; Sookie had graciously insisted that Lorelai take a mental health day for herself whenever and wherever she needed to. Now that Lorelai was the boss of her own Inn, she could afford to do things like that, and Luke thanked whatever God was up there that this kind of spat had not occurred several years before, at a very different point in Lorelai's career.
While he was on the subject of faith, Luke had never been a particularly religious person, but just this once, he sent a prayer up for his girls: Please... please look after them.
Yes, the Gilmore girls were his girls: he had secretly felt that way for years, and now that he was engaged to be married to the mother (the woman he had always wanted), soon he would have a child in the form of the daughter. A stepdaughter, but even so, Luke loved Rory as if she was his own. But now, Luke feared that the family that was in his grasp would be torn apart. He could almost feel a proverbial strain on his muscles, as he held himself to the peak of physical and emotional strength, to keep the inspiring love between mother and child from being ripped asunder.
A quiet padding of feet shook the diner owner from his thoughts, as Lorelai trotted into the kitchen in a bathrobe and slippers. Luke gently approached her.
"I smell coffee," she murmured.
"You can have it later," Luke soothed, as if he was placating a child. "Go back to bed, honey. Please."
"I'm... fine," Lorelai tried to brush off, even though she remained against his chest and her lower chin wobbled. She clearly was not fine, if she looked like she was going to burst into tears any second. Without the greatest idol for her adoration, the perky Inn owner was utterly miserable. Whatever happiness Rory brought for her, Luke had come to accept that he could not hope to replicate it, try as he might. Besides, he made Lorelai happy in a different way (at least he hoped he did).
Lorelai's hands rested against his chest as she gazed up at him. There was something about the look in her eyes that informed Luke there was something important she wanted to say. The protective diner owner willed her to crack, to open up; he was of the opinion that talking something out was always the best therapy.
"Luke... my love." And then she was kissing him, again and again, with a desperation that made Luke's heart break. "My love," she breathed again when they broke apart. "I want you to promise me something."
"Anything," he got out.
"If something were to happen to me... would you look after Rory?"
It was clearly a hypothetical question, but Luke sensed it was more than that. This was a test... and Luke wasn't sure if he wanted to take it. All the same, he promised:
"Nothing would happen to Rory. I swear it!"
Lorelai kissed him again. "Thank you." She turned away and drifted towards the banister. "I think I will go back to bed... I love you."
Luke watched her retreat back to their room, then he grabbed his coffee and headed out to his truck. To his relief, he spotted Babette in her garden next door. She waved when she saw him.
"Hey, handsome! How's our doll doing?"
Luke walked right up to her. "Babette, I need you to go in that house right now and watch Lorelai like a hawk. And don't move, even if she asks you to or says she's fine. Her life depends on it."
The intensity of his voice did the trick, as a disturbed Babette silently nodded her head. She raced for the Gilmore house, as Luke moved for his truck, ready to go to work. Something didn't sit well in his gut, and he hoped that he had installed enough fail-safes.
He hoped that Lorelai would still be there when he got home in the evening.
"OW!" Luke's hand jumped to his hair when he felt the young girl unexpectedly tug out a chunk right down to the roots. Next moment, he was temporarily blinded as she snapped his picture with a flash camera.
"Thanks!" the girl chirped. "Wish me luck!" And she was sprinting out of the Diner, struggling to reattach that godforsaken bike helmet that should have belonged to a stuntman, and not a kid trying to safely ride their Schwinn bicycle. Luke stared after the girl in disbelief, wondering if at this point, the day itself was just making fun of him, toying with him. Caesar came out from behind the counter, also watching through the window as the nerdy girl pedaled away.
"What the hell was that all about, boss?"
"Kitchen. Now," Luke ordered his best employee shortly, but his voice sounded half-hearted. Caesar retreated back behind the order window, getting platters ready for servicing.
"Order up!" Luke swiveled around a burger and fries combo to a customer at the counter, then turned back to the order window, as he suspected Caesar would be on a funneling roll to get the orders out. The lunch rush was at its peak, so everyone had to be on their A-Game. All hands on deck.
"So, how's Lorelai?" Caesar asked casually, trying to make conversation as he attended to a pot of soup.
Luke was about to answer, though he was too tired and on edge to do so (at brief moments of peace, he had let his worried mind wander back to his beloved fiancé just a couple of blocks away), when the phone suddenly rang. Anxious, he figured it was probably Babette with a status report. Though he had never actually told her to keep him updated, the implication had been friendly enough. If there was ever a moment to take advantage of Babette's gossiping skills - it was practically a superpower for her - this was it. Luke nearly knocked the landline off its hook in his haste to answer, cradling the receiver in his ear. "Luke's."
But Babette's voice, endearingly raspy from too many cigarettes, didn't come over the line. Instead, the caller sounded a lot like Lorelai, only younger. "Luke?"
Luke's heart leapt into his throat, and he prayed with all his heart that his stepdaughter-to-be wasn't in a crisis too. "Rory? What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she assured him soothingly. "I was just calling, well... I'm going to be in a show tonight. At Yale. I was cast before I dropped out, and I can't let the director down. And I can't ask my mom to be there, so I was wondering... if you could be there for me?"
Luke thought for a moment. He had been planning to race back to Maple Street the second he reached closing time, to relieve Babette. And he couldn't leave Lorelai's neighbor hanging on what he had reluctantly termed a suicide watch indefinitely. But... just as much as Lorelai needed him, her daughter needed him too. "I'll be there."
"Oh, thank you! I'll make it worth your while - how about I meet you for dinner beforehand? I know a great place on the outskirts of campus."
"Great!" Luke jumped at the chance. He hadn't seen Rory since her 21st birthday party at the Gilmore mansion and that was weeks ago. He needed to check up and make sure she was still all right. "5:30? OK. See you then. I love you."
He had never said that to his future stepdaughter before, but in such a time of family crisis, he felt that there was no better time than the present. Indeed, there was a pause before Rory got out sincerely:
"I love you, too."
Luke hung up. Turning back around, he saw Caesar giving him a funny look, as he blindly accepted the tuna melt passed to him through the order window.
"Was that Rory?"
"Yeah, she asked me to come see her in a play she's in."
"Are you going to tell Lorelai?" Caesar knew the extent of the Gilmore Girls' falling out - thanks to Babette and Miss Patty's Rumor Mill Inc., the whole damn town knew - which annoyed Luke, but perhaps the more people who knew, the more likely a tentative calm could be held.
"No," he found himself saying right away. "Lorelai's on enough of an emotional precipice as it is." Reminding himself, he sprung back to the landline phone and rang the Gilmore house. Predictably, Babette answered. "Hiya, handsome."
"Hey, Babette, is she all right?"
"Oh, she's fine, studmuffin - she's asleep, poor doll. My eyes are glued to her in the bed; I haven't let her out of my sight. Morey's downstairs with the news on."
"Great! I'm going need you guys to sit tight for a few more hours. Just through tonight. I should be back late. I'll pay you for your trouble."
"Don't worry about it, sugar - we got this!" Babette's voice suddenly grew louder as she presumably held the phone away from her ear to holler, "MOREY! I need me some chamomile tea, baby!"
Luke desperately shushed her. "Babette, she's asleep, remember?"
"Oh, right, sorry. Do your thing, hot-stuff. Lorelai will be fine!" The receiver clicked. Luke put himself in a mindless robotic mode for the next few hours, and a little before 4:30, he ordered Caesar to close up for the night. Right now, Rory needed her stepfather.
Rory greeted Luke warmly at the restaurant, and they took a seat at one of the outside tables. The weather was clearer here, closer to the Yale campus.
She looked all right, even if she had a depressed slump to her shoulders. She had to be hurting just as much as her mother, Luke could not be persuaded otherwise. He knew Rory, had helped to bring her up, in his own way. And right now, she looked woeful.
"I'm playing the female lead tonight. Paris made me audition on a dare before... everything happened. The director was kind enough to let me stay on after I had to leave campus."
Luke could not help but crack a smirk. He knew enough about Rory's high-strung friend to know that was the kind of move the young Geller would play. Peering closer at the young woman, he suddenly noticed.
"You're wearing the necklace I got you. My mother's." The surprise in his voice was palpable, even to his own ears.
Rory glanced down, flushing a little, even as she stroked the pendant with love in her eyes. "I never take it off, except for shower and bed. It's become very special to me. It... reminds me of home."
There was a pregnant pause before Rory leaned forward cautiously. "How's she doing?"
Luke sighed. They had arrived at Lorelai, as he knew they would eventually. He needed to give Rory the honest truth. "She's miserable without you." He noticed how Rory seemed struck by the intensity of his answer. He took her hand. "Rory... I'm not your father. I can't tell you that this needs to end now. But it needs to end soon. If you two don't forgive each other sometime in the near future, Lorelai could die. And if she dies, we all die. I... I can't lose her, Rory. Cause if I lose her, I'll lose you, and if I lose you... I will be destroyed."
Rory didn't say anything, but Luke could see that she appeared just as shaken as Babette had been earlier. Glancing at her watch, she gathered her purse. "I... I have to go. My call time's soon." Rounding the table, she kissed Luke on the cheek, a gesture which he returned. "I'll see you later. I love you!"
"Love you," Luke echoed, as though the words were as easy as breathing, easy as life. If no other good came out of this, at least he and Rory were becoming more comfortable being affectionate towards one another. With any luck, they would be family soon enough.
"Think of me... think of me fondly when we say goodbye..."
Luke was struck by Rory's lilting soprano. He had never known she could sing like that. It made him wonder if she had gotten that from her mother. Come to think of it, Luke had never heard his fiancé sing before, but he wasn't about to suppose that Christopher, Rory's father, had any musical abilities. Aside from driving a Harley Davidson and knocking up single women so that they became single mothers, the young heir was pretty talentless, in Luke's opinion.
As it happened, Luke had found himself assigned to a seat next to none other than Paris Geller, who intermittently kept leaning over to whisper her commentary on Andrew Lloyd Webber's opinion on the disability movement, blah, blah, blah...
"She's really glad you came, Groucho Marx. You're no Lorelai, certainly, but from the way Rory talks about you, you're the next best thing."
"Thanks," Luke grunted. Even though it seemed like a backhanded compliment, especially when delivered in Paris Geller's tone, he thought he had better take it. "You know, it was kind of a last minute thing; she called me this afternoon..."
Paris frowned. "But Lorelai bought this ticket months ago." A tense silence as Paris studied him, like a police investigator willing the defendant to crack. Then: "Lorelai doesn't know you're here, does she?"
The way she said it rubbed Luke the wrong way, and he leaned back over to hiss at her, "Look, I'm trying to do everything I can to keep those two girls from falling apart! I have to save them - they're my family!"
For the first time in probably her entire life, Paris looked like she had been snapped into silence. Then:
"They're my family, too, you know." It was spoken with a deep vulnerability, in a whisper and not a stage hiss, so that Luke barely caught the words.
While Rory - as Christine Daae - was being dragged down into the Phantom's lair, Luke felt a buzz as his cell phone suddenly rang in his pocket.
"Oh, hell!" he grumbled, regretting that he had not turned it off at curtain, until he remembered that he had left it on for the express purpose of not missing a possible report from Babette. Scooting past Paris's legs and into the aisle, under her withering stare, he hurried for the lobby. "Hello?"
"Mr. Danes?"
"This is he," Luke frowned, not recognizing the voice.
"Mr. Danes, this is Principal Collins, of Martin Van Buren Middle School over in Woodbridge. We have Miss April Nardini here regarding a science project, the results of which we think are pertinent to you."
All at once, Luke found himself flashing back to the mysterious girl in the bike helmet from earlier that day, and what she had said: "I'm going to take samples of three men and figure out which one's my father."
Oh Holy God...
"Um..." Luke gulped, glancing at the clock as he continued to speak in low tones. "Can you guys wait for another 45 minutes or so until I can get there? I'm at a performance for my stepdaughter near Yale." He couldn't dwell on the wonderful rush he got from referring to Rory as his stepdaughter in conversation.
"Of course, take all the time you need, sir. But please hurry! We have much to discuss."
Luke hung up and returned to his seat. He didn't pay attention to Paris telling him all that he had missed, his mind in a fog. He could hardly pay attention to the climax of the show itself, watching Rory approach Marty (as the deranged Phantom) with Logan Huntzberger lashed to a gate and a hangman's noose around his neck:
"Pitiful creature of darkness... what kind of life have you known? God grant me courage to show you... you are not alone!"
Rory kissed Marty. A few people in the audience clapped, and some rowdy boys in the back gave wolf whistles. Luke found himself staring at the floor of his row. He didn't think he would ever get used to seeing Rory kissing a guy, the way any father would be uncomfortable around a suitor for his daughter. He didn't think he would be comfortable at Rory's wedding someday, when she got married. He found himself thinking of some lyrics from earlier in the show: "Insolent boy, this slave of fashion, basking in your glory! Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!" For indeed, Rory was in some ways a triumph for him. A legacy.
And he started as he realized, she might no longer be his only legacy...
The performance ended triumphantly, with Luke staying just long enough to congratulate Rory. "I got to get home," he told her, presenting her with roses he had picked out and pecking her goodbye. "Love you, princess!"
And he dashed out to his truck and set a course for Woodbridge...
Finding Martin Van Buren Middle School was easy enough, thanks to a statue posted at the entrance to the school, of some little bald guy who had apparently been the 8th President of the United States centuries before. Jogging into the building, with its mostly darkened windows in deep night, Luke followed the signs to the principal's office.
The crowd of people surprised him. Principal Collins sat at his desk, surrounded by presumably several members of his administration. The girl from the Diner - April - was huddled in one chair, and in the seat next to her sat a face that Luke had not seen in at least twelve years,
"Anna? Anna Nardini?"
His old fling from over a decade ago raised her eyes to his. "Hello, Luke. It's been a long time."
April, meanwhile, looked from one adult to another nervously. Principal Collins rose out of his chair to shake Luke's hand.
"Have a seat, Mr. Danes."
Luke lowered himself into an empty chair.
"Mr. Danes, did young Miss Nardini at any point take a hair sample from you?"
"Yes, this morning," Luke supplied.
"Well, it would seem that she had that sample tested this afternoon at Dr. Nardini's lab over in Hartford, then raced back here to present her findings at the science fair this evening. Now, while the experiment was, I daresay, a little unusual, it was impressive. And the findings do not lie. You have a daughter, Mr. Danes. Congratulations."
Luke hunched over in his chair, elbows resting on his knees, his fingers digging through his scalp. Through his arms, he stole a quick glance at the girl who was apparently his daughter. A daughter with Anna... he couldn't think. At last, he managed to look Anna in the face. Scribbling on a sheet of paper, he handed his ex-girlfriend his phone number.
"Call me and we can discuss how to move forward." The Danes in him, his family's mentality to remain loyal to flesh and blood, took over. "I want to be involved in April's life." His eyes now shifted to the teenager. "And I mean that. But right now, this is a lot to process... my fiancé's depressed... she and her daughter are estranged... I have to make sure my entire family is OK... all of my family. And April, as of this moment, that includes you. Don't worry."
Luke stood, and shook hands with Principal Collins and his team. He turned back to April. "I'll see you soon, OK? I promise. And then we'll talk." He wanted to hug her, hold onto her, now knowing who she was to him, but he felt it was not yet his place. He was only just now getting used to being loving with his stepdaughter, but now his biological child? That would take some getting used to.
Luke drove through the night back to Stars Hollow, his mind numb and at a loss for what to do next.
Except for one thing: there was one person he needed to talk to about this first. And he hoped against hope that she would be in a state to do so...
It was still dark as pitch when Luke arrived back in Stars Hollow. He headed straight for Number 37, Maple Street, to find Babette and Morey astonishingly still awake, sitting around the table with Lorelai in the kitchen. After much haggling, Luke practically pushed a wad of bills into their hands, thanking them for their time. As soon as the back kitchen door shut behind them, he turned to his fiancé...
To find that she was glaring murderously at him. "Where the hell have you been all day? Babette said you called about 12:15 and said you were going to be home late. Where were you? And don't you dare lie to me!"
Before Luke could come clean, never mind begin to explain about April, Lorelai answered for him. "Oh, let me guess: you went slipping off to Yale to go gallivanting with that felon I call my daughter."
Luke couldn't help but cringe at her choice of words, even as he gaped at her in disbelief. "How did you know...?"
"Paris called me during intermission and I had to hear how you were at Rory's show all night. But it ended hours ago, so what else are you not telling me?"
"I went to support your daughter when she asked me to, because she was under the impression that, circumstances being what they are, you clearly weren't going to show up! You act like my supporting our... I mean, your kid is a bad thing!"
"No, leaving me with Babette and Morey all goddamn day like I'm a prisoner in need of a warden is a bad thing! Going to see my daughter - with whom I am not on speaking terms, by the way - is UNFORGIVABLE!"
"Oh, will you just stop!" Luke whined.
"Where else were you tonight, Luke? Huh? Just answer me that! Cause no run of Phantom of the Fucking Opera that I know of goes until 11:45 at night!"
"I had to see my daughter!" Luke blasted out. "I had to go to Woodbridge to get confirmation that I am the father of a 12-year-old girl whose mother was an ex-girlfriend of mine years ago!"
Clearly not the answer she was expecting, Lorelai sank back into her kitchen chair, speechless. She raised her eyes to Luke's shakingly.
"Is this true?"
Luke nodded. "I was hoping I could tell you in a slightly less stressful way. Her name's April. She loves science. She did a DNA test to find her father as part of a fair project, and it turned out to be me."
Lorelai was quiet for a moment. Then, she glanced down at her stomach. "Baby, I'm sorry, but I don't think we have enough room for you."
Luke gaped at her. "You're kicking me out? But we're getting married! And what about April? I... I could expand the house; Rory could keep her room. It wouldn't have to be cramped!"
Lorelai ignored him, standing up and pacing as she kept her eyes directed somewhere towards the floor. "Baby, I'm sorry, but Mommy is just so sad. I wish I could have you... but I can't. I'm just so... broken inside. That isn't fair to you. So I think it's better this way. If I just come to be with you..."
Luke eyed Lorelai warily, baffled. "Lorelai... what are you talking about?"
"I wish you could meet your Daddy, baby, and meet your big Sissy, but Mommy can't take anymore of this pain."
And as Lorelai reached for the chopping knife, it all clicked into place for Luke. He understood.
Baby...
"Lorelai, NO!"
There was a slash of silver, and blood suddenly flowed down Lorelai's arm, pooling from the sliced artery. Luke had no choice but to tackle his fiancé so that they both tumbled to the ground, grappling for the weapon. Getting a hand on the blade, Luke hurled the monstrous thing out the open kitchen window, keeping Lorelai pinned to the ground so that she couldn't become a further danger to herself.
"Luke... you should have just... let me go..." Lorelai's words slurred as she slipped into unconsciousness. Panicked, Luke gathered her up in his arms, the way he still hoped to do one day when he carried her across the threshold after they were married at last.
"Lorelai... don't leave me... Neither of you can leave me..." And Luke raced for his truck, depositing Lorelai gingerly into the passenger seat and flooring it to the nearest hospital. On the way, he placed two calls:
"Your mother needs you right now. It's time to end this. St. Francis. 15 minutes."
"Hey, it's Luke. I need you to bring me my daughter. St. Francis. 15 minutes, Anna. I mean it."
