Lying in bed, Lorelai can hear the sounds of his deep snoring drifting through the open door between their adjoining rooms. She's reminded of the first time she discovered that he snores in his sleep, when she didn't know that it was to become a sound that would be more comforting than annoying, like those sounds of the rainforest tapes that her mother uses to soothe herself to sleep. It had as much of a calming affect on her as his arm wrapped around her midsection, his hand flat against her stomach. As she's thinking about this, her hand slowly drifts down to cover her stomach as his once did. Just the thought of his hand holding her close to him arouses her. After all, he is still Luke with his Roman godlike physique: bronzed skin and etched muscles. She remembers that when they were together, just before he entered her, he would hold her wrists above her head, making her completely vulnerable to him. He would stare deep into her eyes seeing past her faults, past her weaknesses and she knew he was seeing her soul. And then he would tell her that he loved her and she would feel like she was flying, nothing else, no one else, could do that to her.
Now, in the quiet of the dark night, she can't help but be turned on by the image of the man next door. The man she would lay with in the mornings, letting him gently run his hands over her skin, tracing lines from her collarbone, over her small breasts, down her flat stomach, spreading over her body, worshiping her in a way that made her feel almost blessed. Then his fingers would slide down further, feeling her heat. He would watch her face as he pleasured her, coaxing her to whimper his name in the morning light, as if that was contentment enough for him. And in the dark of this dreary night, she bites her lower lip to keep from moaning his name receiving little of the satisfaction that he had brought her before.
When her breathing is once again under control, she wraps the blankets tight around herself, cocooning herself within the rough sheets of the hotel room, wishing as she had for months on end that she still had Luke's arms to encircle her as she drifted off to dreamland. She can't sleep. The sounds of cars passing on the road outside mixing with the sounds from the slumbering man next door allow her mind to drift from her current reality to recollect the day that is coming to an end.
After agreeing to join him on the trip to deal with the recent turn of events, she managed to get him to eat a little something while she packed up his suit and some clothes. Praying he would do as told, she went home and packed a suitcase for herself, using everything within her to concentrate on only packing one bag for the whole time-undetermined trip instead of one for each day. She made sure to take a moment to call Rory at Yale and quickly give her a short summary of the recent events, promising to call with updates whenever possible. She also managed to get Rory to mapquest directions to the nearest hotel to TJ's parents's house in Amherst, New York. Then she fed Paul Anka, left instructions with Babette and drove over to the diner to pick up Luke, who she hoped had finished leaving instructions with Caesar. For some reason, which she has yet to figure out, he actually forced himself to accomplish all the tasks she had assigned him before she had headed across town to her house so that when she pulled up he was sitting on the bench outside the diner ready and waiting. With only a slight look from her to make sure that he was really ready to go, she started the car and they headed out on the road.
The drive seemed longer to her than it should have due to the silence that contained them. Unable to keep her eyes chained to the road in front of her, she allowed them to drift to her right every once in awhile. And for a few hours, it seemed that he never moved except a small twitch in his fingers when she changed speeds. He was slouched against the window, his gaze focused somewhere in the distance, but she knew that his mind was even further away, possibly not even on his sister but those that had died years before. His right hand lay on his knee, his left next to him on the seat, the fingers of his hands clenching and unclenching sporadically. Though she had never experienced the loss of someone so close, she could almost feel his emotions running through. She had always thought that she and he were similar with their own hidden tragedies, but it was his darkness that seemed so much more poignant to her at the time.
She let her hand drift from the two position on the wheel to the radio, glancing over at him as she flicked through a few stations. Jessica Simpson. The Beatles. Korn. Jackson Browne. Nothing seemed appropriate, too loud or too soft, too happy or too sad. She wasn't sure exactly what she was hoping for, what music actually was appropriate for the drive to meet with the relatives of Luke's dead sister's husband. In the end, she was sure that he wasn't paying attention, that whatever song she chose he wouldn't hear it, he wouldn't remember it, it wouldn't matter. Maybe that's why she was curious as to why he had asked her along, because she wanted to make a difference, she wanted to be there for him but more that that she wanted it to matter.
Eventually she decided just to flip to a CD, not really caring what was currently in. It turned out to be U2's Joshua Tree, which pleased her. She glanced at Luke to see if he was listening, to see if he remembered the first time she played this album for him and pretended to lip sync with a fake mike to With Or Without You after which she had proclaimed she couldn't live without him. But there was no flicker of anything on his face, no sign that he was in the world at all, except his fingers moving. So she slid her hand from the radio down to his hand, feeling it clench around hers. Once. Twice. Until he suddenly looked down at the enjoined hands, the sensation of hers wrapping around his just reaching his brain at that moment. Glancing at the road and back at him, she watched his gaze slowly drift up her arm to match hers, as if searching for her meaning behind her action. "You're not alone," she softly assured him.
"No," he responded, his voice breaking as he grunted out the word. As she glanced back at the road, trying to keep them from ending up in some ditch never to make it to their final destination, his gaze never left her. He wondered what had made her agree to come, to forget that he had left Stars Hollow for three months after their last meeting on the day that was supposed to have been their wedding day only to ignore her when he came back. He wondered what had made her let go of the fact that he had carefully avoided her for all that time for fear of having to consolidate the fact that he was still deeply in love with her with the fact that he was still deeply hurt by her betrayal. Maybe she saw it as a way to get him to forgive her. Yet, that possibility didn't actually seem veritable to him. Something in him said that she had come because he needed her, because he had asked, because, after all, she loved him and what wouldn't she do for the man she loved.
The rest of the ride passed more rapidly than had the first half. Possibly it was the addition of the music which shattered the quiet that had enveloped them for so long. Possibly it was their linked hands, sending electrical currents up their arms to their brains, reminding each that no talking was necessary for them to know that each other was right there. And so the time elapsed, the jeep eventually reaching its destination without another sound being uttered from either Luke or Lorelai.
"I'll get the stuff," Luke announced the moment that Lorelai pulled into a space in front of the hotel. Startled that he was cognizant enough to realize that they had arrived, she glanced over at him to find him staring back her. The grey-blue of his eyes seemed distant and cheerless, but still she could feel that he was appreciative of her presence. She only nodded in response, handing him her keys, grabbing her purse and going inside the hotel to arrange their rooms.
She managed to arrange for adjoining rooms, unsure about how they would deal with being in the same room after not actually being in the same 500 meters of each other for about six months. Sure they had once been lovers, they had once jumped at the chance of sharing a room, a bed, possibly their lives. All that was over. He hadn't really wanted to marry her. She had cheated on him. With just those two events everything they had together had gone up in smoke. They lost their relationship, their friendship, their trust in themselves as well as each other. And though she had gone on the trip to be there for him, she knew it still couldn't easily go back to the way it once was, they couldn't simply forget the unfortunate events of that disastrous day last May.
Wordlessly, he had followed her down the hall to their rooms. She opened one room and then unlocked the adjoining door inside to get into her own room. He glanced around, checking out the room, as if it mattered where he would attempt some restless sleep before meeting TJ's family the next day and planning for the future he never wanted. He watched her walk through the door into her room, pulling her suitcase behind her, only then realizing that they had separate rooms. It was odd. After being together for two years, it seemed strange to be staying together in a hotel, residing there with the intention of getting each other through the next few days, but not actually sharing a bed, not actually holding each other at night. And it made his heart feel even emptier. "They're all gone," he said gruffly, not quite realizing he was saying the words aloud until she appeared once again in the doorway.
She took his arm, dragging him over to sit on the bed and sat next to him, the distance perpetuating between them. "Luke, I know it feels like you're alone. But you've got me. You've got Jess and April. In some odd way, that I've never understood, you've got Kirk," she told him and he watched her tilt her head as she nodded, trying to convince him to have faith in her words.
He looked back down at his hands then, his fingers playing together mindlessly. "Yes. Jess. Gabriel. They're all the family I've got." She rubbed his arm, knowing that as much as she is infuriated by her parents, she would still be extremely saddened to lose them. The night she almost lost her father, when she hadn't gone to the Christmas Party and therefore had been afraid that he would die without her ever really telling him what he meant to her, she had realized this. In fact, it had been Luke to help her realize this. He was the one who had assured her that even though she and her father and even her mother had disagreements, they were her family and that was more important than long held grudges.
"Wait, Gabriel?" she asked, suddenly hearing his words more clearly and noticing he's spoken a name she'd never heard before.
"My nephew," he answered simply.
She reached up to his chin, turning his head to face hers, so that she could better hear what he was mumbling. "Your nephew?" she asked and his eyes widened.
"Liz had another kid. In October, he's almost three months old now, ten weeks. He was with TJ's parents for the weekend," Luke answered, shocking her. When had this happened? Why hadn't he told her? If the baby had been born on time, then they had to still have been engaged when he found out.
She closed her eyes, mentally trying to count back the months. March or April. Liz had found out in March or April. And then answer was instantly clear to her. She had talked to Anna at the beginning of April. She had avoided him as much as she could after that. That's why he hadn't told her. She hadn't been around to tell. It hurt her to realize that he had this wonderful news, that he was going to be an uncle again, and he was afraid to tell her because he could feel her slipping away. Her hand was inadvertently running up and down his arm as she thought this through.
"Well, we should get to bed," she finally decided. However, his focus was gone, his fingers were moving together, but he was back in his mulling mode and she knew with a glance that she might have lost him. Choosing to let him be, knowing that she knew more about the contents of his bag than he did, she walked over and picked a t-shirt out of the bag. "Come on Luke, you need your sleep," she told him, hoping that the sound of her voice will ground him, but no avail.
Taking her seat again next to him, she adjusted his arms so she could remove his flannel and undershirt. She took a deep breath as her eyes focused on his bare chest, the rippled muscles of his arms, the tanned skin. He was just as beautiful as he had always been, apparently the grayish tone of his complexion hadn't traveled further than his face. She used all her powers of control to keep herself from sticking out a finger and slowly tracing a line down his chest and abdomen. Biting her lower lip as her eyes focused on the exposed skin, she took another deep, but now shaky breath, feeling her face flush with desire. "Lorelai," he said softly, jerking her eyes up to his face.
He knew he had caught her looking. The feel of the cold air of winter on his skin had pulled him out of his reverie only to find the raven-haired woman sitting next to him staring unwaveringly at his chest. The idea that the void that had formed between them didn't reduce her attraction to him was refreshing, no, more than that, it was invigorating. He could do little to keep himself from her now as he slowly closed the distance touching his lips softly to hers, gently running his tongue over her lower lip until she opened her mouth to him, allowing his tongue to tangle with her own. The amazing feeling of kissing her once again almost matched that of the first time they kissed all those years ago. He softly moaned her name against her lips.
She pulled back suddenly, hearing her own name in the gruff tones reserved for their late night activities. Quickly shaking her head, she threw the shirt into his surprised hands. "I'm not here for that," she insisted softly, wanting to give in but knowing he would have regretted it later. That's what friends do. That's what people in love do. They keep each other from doing things they'll be ashamed of and feel guilty about. She had to do this for him because he had enough on his mind, he blamed himself enough for other things. The thought ran once again through her head, if only Christopher had been that kind of a friend when she went to him that night.
"I'll assume you can handle the rest of the bedtime procedure yourself," she told him, getting off the bed. Still stunned by the abrupt end to their kiss, he just stares at the shirt in his lap, seemingly unaware of how it got there. Though she wanted to stay and explain to him why she couldn't give in, she knew that if she remained in his room for one more second, his uncovered skin still in sight, she might change her mind. So she turned and walked towards the door.
"Thank you," she heard from behind her and flipped around to find his eyes on her. "Thank you," he repeated, as if unsure if she had heard him the first time. He wanted her there. He was glad to have her there. A lump formed in her throat with the thought.
Speechless, she could only nod. "I'll be just…" She pointed with her thumb in the direction of her room. "I'll leave the door open if you need me." With that she turned and entered her room. She had changed, brushed her teeth and got ready for bed, the whole time with her mind still on the man in the next room. Why had he kissed her? Was it just the attraction that still remained? Did he still love her? Could he ever forgive her? Those questions remained on her mind as she laid down to go to sleep. They weighed on her as she tossed and turned, trying to let go and fall asleep.
Now, hours later in the dead of the night, she's still awake, having been unable to keep her mind from thinking. She's startled back to the present by the change in sounds from the room next door. Her ears no longer sense the reverberations of Luke's soothing snores but a more heartbreaking tone of grief. He's crying. Luke - introverted, unemotional, keep it all inside – Luke is crying. The sound of any person crying is usually enough to dampen her spirits, but the fact that it's Luke pains her so much more.
Unable to remain in her bed, to allow him to let out his sorrow alone, she gets out of bed and walks into his room. He's lying in the middle of the bed, his head actually on the mattress having pushed the pillows out of the way. His face is shoved into the crook of his arm, muffling the sound of his tears. The blankets are pushed away as well, only the sheet remains wrapped tight around his body, holding him together. Somehow it seems to her that the sheet is the only thing that's keep him from completely losing it and breaking into pieces. The wracking sobs that fill the room scare her to the point that she's almost afraid to go to him, in fear that this memory of Luke will be the one that remains, that she'll no longer see him as the strong man who was her support during Rory's absence.
Her feet have a mind of their own as they move her towards the bed and she's secretly grateful for this. She lies down next to him, facing him, wrapping one arm around him, and the other around his head, pulling his face to her chest, resting her chin on his head. "Let it out. I'm here. I'll always be here," she whispers softly, convincing herself at the same time.
His arms wrap around her, hugging her to him, like a little boy cuddling his teddy bear. She feels his hands grasp her shirt tightly within his fists and doesn't pull away, just allowing him to use her warmth as a comfort, wishing there was more she could give him. Placing a kiss on top of his head, she closes her eyes, feeling suddenly exhausted. She slowly drifts off to sleep, Luke completely wrapped around her, neither knowing what lays ahead in the day to come, but hoping that it will be better facing it together.
