The last time Luke remembered being so nervous was when he was getting dressed for Liz's wedding- knowing that he was going on his first date with Lorelai Gilmore. He had packed every type of outfit imaginable in preparation for this event, knowing that no matter what type of clothing he wore, he would be sending the wrong message to Lorelai's parents. He ended up slipping on his charcoal grey pants that Lorelai had purchased for him five years ago. He couldn't help but chuckle softly at the memory.

"Beautiful pants…so soft. I don't know what this fabric is, but I think I want to have its baby."

Was everything in his life now connected to Lorelai in some way? After putting on the belt that she had bought for him, he began the arduous task of squeezing himself into the navy blue sweater. It took no effort at all to recall how she had held up a similar piece of fabric, only in black, informing him that she had bought him three different colors. At the time, Luke wasn't sure what he was going to do with three tiny pieces of skimpy fabric, but after spending some time examining them alone in his room, he came to understand that these were in fact stretchy shirts and not complicated and expensive-looking towels or something.

Luke hoped with all his might that this outfit would be appropriate. It was dark and somber to match the mood, but not all black to indicate that this was a funeral. It was purchased by Lorelai, so it had to be of a higher quality than the "simple cloth" that he usually wore, right?

"Damnit!" His frustrated outburst echoed off of the tiles of the empty bathroom. He slammed his fists against the sides of the sink and looked miserably up at his reflection. Who on earth could make Luke Danes think so much about something as simple as clothes but the Gilmores? Why on earth did it matter so much?

"Takes a while for a man to learn to swallow his pride like that," Arthur's voice echoed in his ear.

Swallow your pride. If he had faced reality in the first place and swallowed his pride, he would have allowed Lorelai into April's life and he wouldn't even have been in this position.

He took a few deep, calming breaths before dabbing on the cologne that Lorelai had got for him last Christmas and gathered his belongings. If he timed it right, he may have a little time to stop by the gift shop before heading back up to her room.

He slowly turned the corner to the gift shop and peeked in. The room was overflowing with the clichéd sentiments of well-wishers. Colored globes vibrantly screamed, "It's a boy" and "Get well soon!" as they floated gracefully against the ceiling, bumping into one another occasionally. Cards, in Luke's opinion, were a waste of money. Why would you pay five dollars for a piece of cardboard when you could save your money and just say it yourself? Would it be considered crass to get her candy? He knew that the old Lorelai would be delighted at the sight of chocolate covered espresso beans, but this new Lorelai that had so recently come close to death by withholding food was foreign to him. He decided that it was safest to skip it. The large and expensive bouquets of flowers were a slap in the face to anyone wishing to purchase a loved one something to cheer their room up. How could these people live with themselves, gouging money from the sick? His eyes passed over the drab and standard flowers that were given so often by well-meaning visitors who seemed to be confused as to whether they should be visiting the patient or mourning them. He finally found a cheerful bouquet shoved in the back. It was large and colorful with Dendrobium Orchids, Casablanca Lilies, and Birds of Paradise- exuding that sunny yet beautiful and delicate disposition that he had seen so often reflected in Lorelai's eyes. He turned the bouquet, squinting to find the price among the other many numbers covering the tiny tag.

"Holy crap!" he yelled as he straightened suddenly, looking to the startled girl sitting behind the counter. "Why are these so expensive?"

"Well," she said with a snotty air of impatience as if she were having to explain to a grown man than two plus two equaled four, "it's not like you can grow those flowers in your typical Connecticut backyard, can you?"

"Right, yeah. Didn't think about that," he said sheepishly. Exotic or not, he still thought the flowers were overpriced. Nevertheless, he placed them on the counter along with a stuffed monkey that played the cymbals when the feet were pressed.

As soon as the elevator doors opened onto Lorelai's floor, he knew that the elder Gilmores had arrived. Emily Gilmore's high-pitched screech could be heard easily from any location on the entire floor.

"How dare you put my daughter in a room with that morbid couple. What are you trying to insinuate, that my daughter is going to die? Do you know who my grandfather was? He founded the Hartford Memorial Hospital! If he knew of what you have done to a member of his prominent family, the only medical position you would be capable of holding would be to pass out lollipops to children in the hallways!"

"Mrs. Gilmore, please understand," the frightened nurse interrupted, "this is a much smaller hospital than Hartford…"

"I don't care! You don't put one of your own doctors coming in for treatment with two corpses. You give them their own room! I don't care how small your hospital is! If all your private rooms are full, bump someone!" she screamed, gesticulating wildly. The girl before her flinched nervously as if she feared being struck by the older woman's chaotic movements.

"I'll see what I can do," the girl said, nearly in tears as she practically ran from the nurse's station.

Luke took a nervous breath and began to advance towards her, wondering only briefly where Mr. Gilmore was at this moment. Before he could reach her, she spun around violently and stared him in the face. Fire flashed dangerously in her narrowed eyes as she advanced on him with the fury of a raging storm.

"You!" she spat, her expression full of malice.

Luke trembled a little in spite of himself as Mrs. Gilmore continued to glare at him, apparently repulsed by his presence.

"You need to leave, right now," she said in a low and dangerous voice. "I do not want you here when she wakes up. You are never to see her again, do you understand me?"

Luke's temper instantly boiled to a breaking point. The muscles in his jaw worked menacingly as he managed to bite back his retort.

Swallow your pride. Swallow your pride. The mantra in his head repeated as he felt the control slowly returning.

"Emily, I…"

"That's Mrs. Gilmore to you! You are lucky I don't fetch Richard to take care of you right now! Now get out, you filthy wretch! I don't ever want to see you near my daughter or my granddaughter again!"

A whirlwind of force and color blew past them, hooking on to both Luke's and Emily's wrists and pulling them sharply towards the door to the balcony.