A/N: I know I posted this for like two seconds, but there was something I needed to add, so here it is for real this time. As usual, I hope to hear your reviews and your thoughts on this chapter. This chapter was the hardest so far for me to write emotionally, so I hope you guys enjoy.
"I have classes until three, so I'll meet you at Rich Man's Shoe for dinner?" she asked as he was typing on his computer.
"Yeah. I'll call you after my appointment, let you know what Martinez says," he told her. His brows furrowed and a look of concentration played on his face. "I seriously hate that he wants me to do this." The topic was now back on Mitchum. Despite his support the last few months, he wanted Logan doing some kind of work for the company again. Rather than travel or do office work since they knew his immune system was still compromised, Mitchum wanted him to go over the numbers for their newest aquisition and see how they could improve upon it.
She put her hand over his, an action that made him look up from the computer screen. "Take it easy. It doesn't have to all get done today, alright. Don't forget to take your medicine, don't forget to eat or drink water. I love you." He smiled, kissing her softly.
"I love you too, Ace. I'll see you tonight." She grabbed her bag before walking out. She wasn't excited that she was back in school, not like she used to be. Now, all she wanted was to be home with him. However, she was excited that this was her last semester. Sure, she had her worries and insecurities about the future, but she knew that her future held one thing for sure, a life with Logan.
It didn't take her long to walk to her first class from the apartment. Economics, yet again with her grandfather. She talked with him for a few minutes before the class started, filling him in on Logan's condition, him telling her that Emily wanted to go over more wedding plans. Something Rory assured him could wait until Friday night dinner. She took her seat, listening to the lecture and taking notes.
As she walked to the Daily News office, she thought about what her grandfather had been telling her. She hated that Emily was trying to plan every aspect, so she decided to tell her how they really felt. They didn't want a society event, they wanted a wedding - small with their family and friends, not with colleagues and business associates.
"Rory, I thought you'd died," Paris told her. "I haven't heard from you since finals. Is Logan okay?"
"Logan's fine," she replied with a smile. "We spent a lot of time with my mom in Stars Hollow. I'm sorry we didn't talk much, but it's kind of hard to talk to you when you're out of the country visiting your parents." Paris just shrugged, taking her seat as Rory began the meeting. She couldn't believe she was Editor In Chief of Yale Daily News, she couldn't believe this was how she was going to end her year. She gave out assignments, finally sitting at her desk and going through the emails that they'd received over the break.
She glanced around before looking at her phone, a text notification. When she opened it, her breath caught in her throat. Looking around, she met his eyes as he stood in the doorway with two cups of coffee. "I'll be back in a minute, Paris," she said, motioning to Logan. Her friend just nodded as she stepped into the hall.
"Hey," he said smiling as she took one of the coffees. "Looks like it's bustling in there." She took a sip before sitting on the bench, him joining her.
"Yeah, it is. Bill is going crazy, as usual. Mostly because of Paris. They're still on edge after her reign of terror, even though I assure them things will be different. Oh, I talked to my grandfather." He was smiling, listening intently. "Emily wants to go over more wedding plans, but I think it's time to put our feet down. Oh, I've been rambling about me. How was your appointment?"
"I'm in what they call partial remission. There's less cancer, but it's not all the way gone. The way Martinez described it was that it's a lot like a chronic disease. It's there, but unless it becomes a problem, treatments aren't necessary." She nodded, grasping what he was saying.
"So, what's the prognosis?" she then asked. He took a breath, taking a drink out of his own cup. She assumed it was tea, he was more of a tea man than a coffee guy.
"It's down to fifteen percent of making it five years. We knew this going in, with how far along it is." She licked her lips before taking her bottom lip between her teeth. "Hey, it's okay," he told her. It reminded her of when she told him that at his first appointment, when he went off on her, asking how it could ever be okay.
"I don't want to lose you," she told him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and kissing her temple.
"I know." They stayed like that for a minute longer, until Bill came out to tell her Paris was losing it - as usual. "I'll see you at Rich Man's Shoe after your next class?" he reminded her.
"Yeah." She gave him a small smile before he kissed her. When they separated, both stood and went opposite directions - her back to the newsroom and him back through the halls of Yale. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before going in to separate Paris and one of the new reporters.
"Paris, I gave you Religon for a reason - you wanted it. You can't change your mind now just because a newer reporter got features!" she practically yelled at her friend. "Now, both of you back to work." She sat at her desk, fielding different types of questions from nearly everybody. After their allotted time was up, she turned to the room.
"Today went a lot better than we had all anticipated," she told the reporters. "It's good to have you all back, and I'm seeing new faces which makes me happy. Keep working on those articles, if you don't have an article yet, I'll talk with you next time about ideas for your sections. Let's have a great semester, guys." She gathered her belongings as Paris walked over.
"So what did Huntzberger say?" she asked, sitting on the edge of Rory's desk. "He usually doesn't just drop by anymore, considering." Her friend shrugged to finish that sentence.
"He had an appointment today. Partial remission, fifteen percent chance of making it to the five year mark, if he were to ever reach total remission, but given his choice to not pursue more treatments." She sighed, knowing Paris had missed that entire conversation the day after Christmas since she'd been with her parents.
"He's giving up?" she questioned. "He can't just give up."
"He's not giving up, Paris," she said, beginning to get angry at her friend. "He'd rather be comfortable than in pain for the rest of his life."
"He does understand that treatment is the only option for him to live, right? By foregoing treatment, he's giving up. He's going to be in pain either way. I mean, yeah, with chemo and radiation, he has the rashes and the vomiting and the hair loss - which he seemed to get lucky on and not have to worry about. But, by not going the treatment route, he's going to be in chronic pain as the cancer destroys his body. He does realize this, right?" Rory stood there, bag slung over her shoulder almost gawking at her friend.
"I'm not having this discussion right now, Paris. As much as I want him to keep up with the treatments, I have to respect his decision. As do you." With that, she left her friend sitting on her desk. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she made her way across campus to her last class. She wanted to skip, but knew that missing her first day of a new class would set her back.
"I'm sorry, I didn't see you," someone said as they bumped shoulders. It was Marty. "Rory, are you okay?"
"Yeah," she mumbled. "Paris being insensitive, as usual. I've gotta go." He just mumbled a yeah as they parted, going in different directions. She wanted to call her mom, to ask why Paris said what she did. She understood her friend had decided to go the pre-med route, but that didn't mean that she had to be so cruel. But maybe, it wasn't cruelty. She knew Paris' statements had basis in fact, but it still didn't make it right.
She sat in one of the chairs in the middle of the room. She was one of the first ones there, so she pulled out her phone. Paris. Ugh, she texted her mom, hoping she'd get the hint. Paris was, well, Paris. She was like a second daughter to her mother, like a sister to Rory, but she had a rough way with words.
What happened? she read after her phone buzzed. She didn't know how to tell her, didn't know if she should. She wanted to think she was overreacting, but at the same time, she knew she wasn't.
Logan had dr. apt. Partial remission. Choosing no treatment. Paris goes on and on about how doing no treatment is stupid and painful and she just doesn't understand, she typed back. She took a breath, turning her phone off as the lecture started. It was hard to concentrate, but she did and took notes, trying to get her mind off the conversation earlier. However, when the lecture ended and she turned her phone back on, she was greeted with several messages.
Talk to Logan, the first said, from her mother of course. She hit the next button.
Didn't mean to be insensitive earlier. Talk to him, though. It's true. Foregoing treatment is typically more painful. She sighed, clicking to the next message.
Still on for dinner? Got a call from your mom, everything okay? Love you. She smiled softly, making her way to Rich Man's Shoe. When she got there, she saw his car parked out front. It was like him to be early. When she walked in, she glanced around until she saw him sitting at one of the tables. Coming up behind him, she put a hand on his shoulder, kissing the top of his head. His hand came up to rest on hers for a minute before she sat down.
"You okay, Ace?" he asked as the waitress brought them drinks. She assumed he'd ordered those already. It would be a little odd for the waitress to bring them random drinks.
"Paris," she said. He nodded.
"Your mom said it was different this time. Want to elaborate?" Honestly, she didn't, but she knew she needed to. She needed to tell him.
"She asked how you were after you left. I told her, which was a mistake. She just kept going on and on about how it's the worst decision you could make. How I should try and talk you out of it. How giving up on treatment is so much worse than going for it. It got to me, you know. This is your decision, this is your life we're talking about. And she tried to make it seem like I don't care about this. She thinks you're giving up and I'm letting you." He took a drink as she sighed. "You're not giving up, though. Despite there being a percentage of a chance of you going into to full remission, it's not significant, is it?"
"Rory," he said. He rarely used her name, so she knew this was serious. "Don't let her get to you. I talked with Martinez today, I told him I didn't want to do the treatments. Do you know what he said? He said despite him wanting all his patients to live, he respects my decision, especially given the likelihood of me going into full remission. He's given me numbers of different hospice options for when the time comes. He's set up bi-weekly appointments to keep track of my ANC and if the cancer starts spreading again. He's given me the paperwork for a living will and a DNR for when I'm ready." The waitress came to take their orders, allowing what he was telling her to sink in before he continued. "Am I scared? Of course. Do I know that this is going to be painful? Yes. Paris can be blunt, but you have to realize, you're not letting me give up. You're letting me die with dignity." He took her hands in his.
"I love you, you know that Logan?" she said with a sad smile.
"I know. I love you too, Ace. Now, enough about that, let's change the subject. How is it running Yale Daily News?" he asked with a true smile.
She told him how different it was between being a reporter and actually running the show. The topic delved into Paris' dispute with a fellow reporter, and Rory's problem solving skills. Then, she told him about her lectures, how she was so excited for the weeks to come. When their food came out, the focus changed and he told her about the new Huntzberger Publishing Group acquisition and how bad it actually was. When he went over the numbers, he saw that the paper was actually losing more money than it was making, and he wasn't quite sure how Mitchum didn't see that before actually buying it.
When they were finished, they walked out to his car and got in. In the quiet confines of the vehicle, he said something that she knew she'd never forget. "I don't want you to think I'm giving up," he said softly. "I've had to deal with the fact that we're not going to have that forever. I've had to deal with the fact that I'm dying and modern medicine can't really save me. I don't see it as giving up, Rory. And I don't want you to see it that way either. Honestly, I'm not afraid to die. I'm afraid people are going to forget me."