May 2005

There wasn't a single moment in Lorelai Gilmore's 37 years on this planet where she could recall thinking, 'I want my Mommy and Daddy.' She knew there must have been times; when she was 9 and had strep throat and her mother supposedly made her that disgusting mashed banana concoction; when she was 5 and Susie Thompson told her she had big ears; or at the very least, when she was an infant and she needed her diaper changed. Yet, despite the fact that she knew it must have happened, she really and truly could not remember it.

But as Lorelai sat in her Jeep in the driveway of her parent's opulent home, she found herself thinking just that…sort of. She wanted to walk through that door and have her parents tell her it would all be alright. She wanted her mother to gather her up in her arms and hug her. She wanted her father to tell her he was going to fix everything. It was a naive hope, she knew. Hoping for Richard and Emily Gilmore to be normal parents was like hoping for The Queen of Hearts to stop playing croquet with hedgehogs and flamingoes and start tending to people's neck wounds.

But she also knew that if there was anyone in this world who could understand what she was going through, it was them. Because 20 years ago, she had been the one to run away from home. 20 years ago, they had been the parents not knowing where their daughter was; if she was safe, if she was cold, if she had enough to eat or a roof over her head. 20 years ago, she had put them in the very same position Lorelai now found herself in.

For 20 years, Lorelai had always had her reasons, had always believed that she had done the best thing she could for herself and her daughter. But never, not once, had she truly considered what she had put her parents through. She knew she'd hurt them; she knew they'd been worried; occasionally she even felt a little bit of remorse. But she'd never really contemplated just what it must have been like to be in their shoes. Not until now. Karma was a bitch.

Lorelai glanced at the clock on her dashboard to see that it was 6:31. She couldn't put this off any longer. It was time to go inside and tell her parents that Rory was gone. And when she did, she knew that that feeling—the one where she wanted her Mommy and Daddy, the one where she hoped they would make it all better—would be dashed. She was headed to trial in the King and Queen's Court and while what she needed was compassion, she knew what the real verdict would be—off with her head.

She swung the car door open and stepped out onto the paver stone driveway, making her way up to the front door. She reluctantly rang the bell and before long, the maid was ushering her into the sitting room where her mother was on the settee sipping her drink while her father read the newspaper.

"There you are, Lorelai," Emily replied with vexation. "You were supposed to get here early so we could go over what we we're going to say. Rory is going to be here any minute."

Richard folded up the paper after having finished reading whatever article he'd been in the middle of and turned his full attention to his daughter. Lorelai closed her eyes, willing up the courage to tell her parents the news. "Rory isn't coming," she confessed.

"What do you mean Rory isn't coming? Of course she's coming, we had a deal."

"You had a deal that she comes to Friday night dinner in exchange for you paying for Yale. Since she's no longer going to Yale, I guess she figured that nullifies said deal."

"This isn't time for jokes, Lorelai," Emily scolded. Lorelai rolled her eyes. She knew she often defaulted to humor as a defense mechanism to deal with her parents, but her mother's inability to ever take anything she said seriously was infuriating at times. Emily had even accused her of joking when she told them Rory was dropping out of Yale in the first place. That was right after the last time Lorelai had seen her daughter; Rory had just finished her last final and she was still reeling from the poor performance review Mitchum Huntzberger had given her on the internship she'd taken at his paper. They'd met up for coffee at Westin's Bakery and Rory had informed her mother that she was no longer going to pursue journalism and that she was dropping out of Yale until she figured out what she did want to do with her life. Granted, Lorelai could have handled the news with a bit more poise, but she had no way of knowing that Rory would take her words about not coming home and bumming around Stars Hollow so literally.

"Still not joking, Mom."

"Well, what's going on then? Did you two get into another fight?" If only Lorelai knew. If only she had iota of an idea what was going on inside Rory's head that would make her drop out of school and run away. This wasn't her daughter. Lorelai was still half convinced this was some sort of terrible nightmare where she was lost in a fantastical world of anthropomorphic talking animals. Her daughter—her beautiful, smart, thoughtful daughter—wouldn't do this. She wouldn't give up all of her hopes and dreams, she wouldn't ignore all her accomplishments, she wouldn't throw her entire future away because of the words of one man. And she certainly wouldn't run away from home without a word over one fight…no matter how terrible it was.

Lorelai pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to squeeze back the tears that were building up behind her lids. The tears that had been threatening to fall on and off ever since Logan Huntzberger had shown up at her door the day before demanding to speak to Rory. Rory, who wasn't there: Rory, whom she had assumed was with Logan Huntzberger. But she wasn't with Logan. She wasn't anywhere. Lorelai had called every single man, woman, and child she could possibly think of. Logan had checked with all of her Yale contacts. She was nowhere; Rory had disappeared.

"I haven't spoken to Rory since Monday," Lorelai answered her mother.

"Well then, how do you know she's not coming? Honestly, Lorelai, I know you two are close, but you're not a mind reader. I'm sure she's on her way." Emily stood up and headed to the drink cart. "Martini?"

Lorelai shook her head. She normally jumped at the word 'martini;' or wine, gin, tequila, cough syrup…any alcohol, really, when she was at her parents. Anything to dull the tedium, to speed up time, to make her parents seem less maddening. But not tonight. Tonight, though a part of her would love to drink away the pain, she knew she needed to keep her wits about her. She couldn't let her guard down, she couldn't dampen her reflexes, she couldn't allow anything to mute her ability to care that her daughter was missing. What if Rory got into trouble? What if she needed her? What if she called to tell her how sorry she was and how she'd never run off again? Lorelai couldn't drink tonight; she couldn't drink at all until her daughter was back home where she belonged.

Emily shrugged, setting down the bottle of gin she had picked up. "Well, sit down," she insisted. "We need to figure out what we're going to say to Rory when she gets here."

"Rory's not coming," Lorelai exploded, throwing her hands up in the air. "Are you not listening? Do you not have ears? Rory. Is. Not. Coming. Not tonight, not next week. Possibly not…" she trailed off. 'Possibly not ever again,' she'd been about to say. But she couldn't. She couldn't make the words form. She couldn't even begin to envision a future without her daughter in it. She might as well be trapped in Wonderland forever, surrounded by strange creatures and giant mushrooms; her life without Rory would be equally incomprehensible.

"Are you sure you don't want that martini?" Emily snipped. "You clearly need something to stave off this fit you're having."

Richard gave Emily a subdued glare before turning to his daughter. "Now just calm down, Lorelai. Sit down and tell us what's going on."

Lorelai obeyed half of her father's command, opting to remain standing for what she had to say. She had too much frenetic energy to sit. "Rory's gone."

"Gone where? Did she take a trip? I know she's going through something, but it's very bad manners to not let us know she's heading out of town. We prepared dinner for four."

"No, Mom, she's not…" Lorelai sighed, rubbing wearily at her face. She took a deep breath and looked up to meet her mother's eye. "I don't know where she is. No one knows where she is. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Rory is gone she's just…gone," the last word came out as a sob. Lorelai choked back her tears, not allowing herself to completely lose it in front of her parents.

"What do you mean 'no one knows where she is?'" Richard asked. "Have you spoken to Logan?"

"Yes," Lorelai scoffed, "I've spoken to Logan." What did her parents think she was, an imbecile?

"Well, clearly he must know something. A young girl's boyfriend is…"

"She broke up with him."

"What?!" This finally seemed to catch her mother's attention. Dropping out of Yale and running away was just a minor inconvenience, but breaking up with a Huntzberger? That was serious. It was as if she'd just found out someone had stolen her tarts. "What do you mean she broke up with him? Why would she do that? They were so lovely together."

Lovely together? Her parents were completely blinded by Logan's charm, money, and 'good breeding.' He was terrible for her. Rory had been a completely different person since Logan had come into her life. Lorelai wasn't sure what had made her daughter run away, but she was sure it had to do with him. "Right, lovely together. That's why she's had a complete personality transplant, dropped out of school, committed a felony, and run away from home. Because they were good together."

"Oh please," Emily scoffed. "You give that boy too much credit. Rory's young, she's going to make mistakes. I'm sure you're overreacting. She probably just needed a little space."

"NO!" Lorealai insisted. Could her mother be more obstinate? Seeing the world only the way she chose; carefully curating her surroundings to fit her own narrative; insisting white roses be painted red. "What part of this aren't you understanding? She didn't go on vacation, she didn't need space. She left! She's gone. She wrote Logan a note, and she cleared out her dorm room, packed up her car and went…god knows where. No one has heard from her since Tuesday. No one!"

"You're serious." Emily's face had paled as she finally seemed to register the gravity of the situation.

"No, I'm joking. I'm really here to tell you I'm getting a sex change operation," Lorelai snipped.

"Just what did you say to her during that fight of yours?"

"I'm sorry, are you seriously blaming this on me?"

"Like mother, like daughter," Emily bit back.

"And what does that say about you?"

"Please," Emily huffed, "you've never spared any expense in telling me what an awful mother I was. How controlling, how stifling…Well, welcome to the club."

"How dare you! This is not the same. What happened with me was not the same. I had a baby to think about. I had to get out. I was suffocating here, and I wasn't about to let that happen to my daughter. Rory never had to live with those kinds of expectations and pressures, I made sure of it."

"You think you were so perfect, don't you? Friends first and mother and daughter second. You let Rory be exactly who she wanted to be? That's what you think?"

"That's what I know."

"Well, I hate to break it to you Lorelai, but that's a load of crap!" If Lorelai weren't so incensed, she would be impressed by her mother's uncouth language. How dare Emily accuse her of being a terrible mother. Lorelai had given up everything to be the best mom she could be. And Rory knew that. Rory knew she could come to Lorelai for anything. They were best friends.

"You don't know anything about my relationship with my daughter."

"I know you told her she wasn't welcome at home if she dropped out of school. I know you went apoplectic at our Thanksgiving party when you heard she had even presumed to apply to Yale instead of automatically going to Harvard like you wanted. I know you've never supported her relationship with Logan because he isn't the kind of man you want her to end up with. And I know she's run away from home at least once before…and where did she wind up that time?"

"How dare you!" Lorelai roared. "How dare you throw that in my face. That was one bad night. We'd had a fight. She was upset over Dean and she over reacted. This is not the same as that."

"You weren't the mother that Rory needed," Emily continued on, "you were the mother that you always wanted. You treated Rory like she was just like you, you even named her after you. Well, congratulations, because it turns out she's just like you after all." Swish. It was the blow she'd been anticipating all night. Lorelai felt her head tumble to the ground.

"Enough!" Richard roared, standing up from the sofa, his presence suddenly taking over the room as he towered over them, over the entire situation. She had a sudden flashback to her father standing in that same spot shortly after finding out she was pregnant. He had that same look on her face as he'd proclaimed what he wanted her and Christopher's future to be. He'd been twenty years younger, his hair not yet greyed with age, and Lorelai had had a different vantage point from her seat on the steps sitting next to Christopher. But Richard's presence in that moment had been just the same. It was Loreali who was different now because back then, she'd resented him taking over and handling the situation without even checking with her, and now, she relished it. "You've checked with everyone you can think of? With Christopher?"

"Yes," Lorelai nodded.

"The police?"

"They say they can't do anything. She's over 18, and with the note she left Logan…they say she's a 'voluntary missing adult.'"

Richard nodded solemnly. "She took her car?"

Lorelai bobbed her head in response. "I can see if there are any reports of it—parking tickets, traffic violations. And we can look at her bank account and credit card for any withdrawls or transactions. A girl like Rory doesn't just disappear without a trace. We'll find her."

"Thank you, Daddy," Lorelai replied, her voice quivering. At least one of her parents had lived up to her hopes this evening. "I just," her voice hitched in her throat. She was losing the battle to keep it together. All she'd been doing for the past 24 hours was trying to keep it together, and now, there was someone else to take the reins; someone else to be in charge. Her father was going to fix this. If anyone had the resources to find Rory, it was him. It was all going to be okay. And with that realization, the tears finally slipped from her eyes, her chest heaving with sobs as she threw herself into her father's arms. He stood there stiffly for a moment before wrapping his arms around her. Maybe Lorelai had lost her head, but maybe the King of Hearts could grant her a stay of execution.

"It's alright," he told her, stroking her hair. "Everything is going to be alright."

October 2005

Logan felt like he'd stepped through the looking glass, surrounded as he was by tiny plates of tiny food, delicate porcelain teacups, and brightly colored floral arrangements. He wasn't sure why his sister had insisted upon a co-ed shower if she was just going to make it as girly as humanly possible; his brother-in-law to be was beyond whipped to have agreed to this.

And yet, despite his decidedly unmasculine surroundings, Logan somehow felt like he was right where he belonged. Because just a few hours ago Rory had appeared to him like a white rabbit, and he had chased her down a rabbit hole into a world that made no sense. Seeing her standing there with her stomach protruding, he felt the room around him shrink. And when he learned the baby wasn't his, it should have been a relief but in that moment, he'd never felt so tiny and insignificant. Then Rory had begun to cry and despite it all, his only instinct was to comfort her, to hold her, to tell her was all going to be okay—to make it all be okay. But how could he when nothing felt like it was okay? When he felt like he was drowning in a pool of tears. And now, here he was, literally at a tea party.

He had no idea what this new world had in store for him. Probably nothing. The baby wasn't his. This wasn't his world, his life. In two days' time he'd wake up back in New Haven in a universe that was just as predictable and mundane as it had always been. This scary yet oddly tempting Wonderland nothing but a hazy dream.

"I can't believe I gave up my Saturday for this," a voice grumbled next to him.

"Huh?" Logan asked, turning to his cousin, Stephen, and shaking himself out of his daze.

"I see you're clearly having as good a time as I am," Stephen said. "Even the booze here is for chicks. Champagne and Earl Grey Martinis?" he scoffed, downing the last of the liquor from his martini glass. "I'm gonna have to drink eight of these to get so much as a buzz." He jerked his head in the direction of the bar. "I'm gonna get a refill, you want one?"

"Um, yeah, sure." Logan agreed distractedly. He didn't want to get too sloshed before he had to meet Rory later, he was going to need a clear head. But a clear head was something that was clearly eluding his sober self, so maybe a nice comfortable in between would help. "I'll get it." He felt the sudden need to do something, anything, even if it was just walk across the room to the bar.

Stephan shrugged in acceptance. "Sure, thanks man. And maybe see if they have any Scotch hidden away?"

Logan nodded half-heartedly as he started walking away, weaving his way through tables full of fancy teapots and towering trays of finger sandwiches. He passed a station where there were dozens of little bottles filled with a variety of tea leaves and dried flowers. Attached to each was a blank card that guests were supposed to fill in with advice for the happy couple on how to "brew" the perfect marriage. Normally such a concept would make him want to gag and yet somehow, he found himself stopping to stare at the neatly arranged display, reading off the labels on each of the bottles, his eyes lingering over the one marked "ginger." Ginger was supposed to be good for morning sickness…right? He wondered if Rory had morning sickness. Did morning sickness even last into the sixth month? With a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking, he grabbed the tiny vial and slipped it into his coat pocket before casually resuming his trek across the room.

Once at the bar, he slipped the bartender a fifty and the man disappeared into the back to find a bottle of Scotch. He leaned against the counter, letting his eyes scan the room as he waited for his drink, his gaze landing on a large group of women standing in a circle around something, all grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Without thinking, his feet started carrying him in that direction. His normal instincts would have had him avoiding a gaggle of giggling girls at all costs and yet, somehow his instincts were all upside down and inside out today. But then again, everything was upside down and inside out in Wonderland.

"Logan!" he heard the shrill voice of his mother cut through the din as he got closer to the cluster of women. "There you are. I feel like I haven't seen you all afternoon. Come, join us."

He slid into the group, with a clipped "hi," forcing the corners of his mouth into something he hoped resembled a smile. His mother didn't seem to notice but his sister gave him an odd look, tilting her head to the side to appraise him for a moment. She must have decided his mood was just due to his current surroundings because she quickly shrugged it off.

"Logan, you remember my friend, Amanda, right?" Honor said, "She was in Pi Phi with me. She just had a baby." Logan's eyes tracked slowly in the direction his sister was looking until they landed on a short, curvaceous brunette, then lowered slightly to the sight of a baby carrier perched on the settee. A tiny infant wrapped in a blue cashmere blanket slept soundly despite the half dozen women fawning over him. His whole face was scrunched up like he was being force fed the camembert and fig sandwich Logan had had the misfortune of trying when he'd absentmindedly picked it up of the tray of a passing waiter. As such, Logan couldn't tell what color his eyes were, but he did have a full head of thick, auburn waves. Logan's heart stuttered in his chest. He tried to push the overwhelming wave of emotion away, but he must not have done so quickly enough as his sister once again gave him an appraising look. His mother, thankfully, was as oblivious as always.

"Isn't he just the most precious thing?" Shira Huntzberger cooed.

"Umm," yeah, Logan shook his head, swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat. He couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away. "Can I, umm…" he motioned to the child. "Can I hold him?" What the hell had come over him; what possessed him to even ask such a thing?

"Oh," Shira shrieked. "Can you imagine?" she threw her hands over her chest histrionically. "What a sight. You with a baby? You'll have all the girls fawning all over you." She turned to the woman on her left, possibly the baby's grandmother as he noticed she bared a resemblance to Amanda. "Not that they aren't already," she added.

"Oh, umm, well, he has been asleep for a bit, I think it's just about time for his nap to be over," Amanda acquiesced. She bent down to unbuckle the infant, scooping him up and handing him off to Logan. "Just be sure to support his head." Logan reached out to take him; he could feel his heart pounding in his ears, his muscles trembling, though he tried his best to stop them as the baby was placed in his outstretched arms. A wave of something he couldn't explain washed over him as the child was placed fully in his embrace. The baby's eye's fluttered open revealing irises of blue. He stared so hard at the infant in his arms that he thought the image might be permanently branded into his retinas.

He wasn't entirely sure how long he held the baby, too afraid to move a muscle, but it couldn't have been too long before he was suddenly thrusting the infant back towards its mother. "Umm, thanks," he muttered. "He's adorable."

Amanda took her son back and without so much as a word to excuse himself, he felt himself fleeing. He needed air. His legs carried him out of the Oriental ballroom, through the hotel lobby and out onto Boylston Street.

What was that? He wondered as he collapsed against the brick exterior of the building. What was happening to him? So his ex-girlfriend was pregnant? So what? It wasn't his, it should bear no effect on his emotional state. Well, maybe not no effect. He still cared about Rory, was still concerned for her wellbeing. But this baby…it had no effect on his life…right?

"Hey."

He looked up at his sister's voice. "What are you doing out here?" he asked.

"Checking on you."

"I'm fine, I just needed a little air. You should get back inside, you'll kind of be missed."

She ignored his directive. "Logan?" she asked. "What just went on back there?"

He shrugged his shoulders, feigning indifference; as though he weren't agonizing over that very question himself. "What do you mean?"

"You can talk to me you know. I'm on your side…always." She reached out to take his hand in hers. "You can tell me anything, I'm a steel trap." She placed her free hand over her chest.

Logan snorted. "Tell that to the Andover graduating class of 1998 which collectively banned together to award you the yearbook superlative of 'class gossip.'"

"We're not talking about who Chris Anderson kissed under the bleachers during the lacrosse play-offs here," she reminded him. He knew she was right. When it came to the two of them, she was the one person in his family he could always trust to be there for him. But this wasn't about him. It wasn't his thing to tell. And he'd promised Rory.

"There's nothing to tell. I just needed a little break from all the Huntzberger family fun."

She clearly didn't believe him. "Logan," she said resolutely, stepping in front of him to meet his eye. "Did you get a girl pregnant?" Jesus, it was like she had some sort of superpower.

"What? No." It wasn't a lie, so why did it feel like one? Why couldn't he stop thinking of Rory and her baby bump? Why couldn't he erase the image of those little, blue baby eyes from his mind? Why did he still feel like he was going to throw up?

The truth of the matter was, the baby wasn't his. It wasn't his, he reminded himself. Right? Rory had told him it wasn't his. And he believed her. All evidence pointed towards this baby belonging to her douchebag ex. But…was it possible? Condoms weren't foolproof, right? And the sheer volume of times…it wasn't just the three that day they got together, it was all the times in the days after. Just how accurately were they able to pin down the conception date?

"Are you sure, because if you did…" her voice trailed off.

He inhaled deeply, his chest rising. "Fine," he said. He felt Honor's fingers tighten around his, cutting off the blood supply in preparation for his admission. "There was a scare," he informed her. "It shook me up a little bit, but it turned out not to be what it looked like." Still not a lie. He felt Honor's grasp loosen.

"Oh thank god," she breathed out in relief. "Mom and Dad would have had a canipshit; can you imagine?"

Logan let out a quiet snort. He could definitely imagine. "Do you think Mom noticed anything?"

"Mom, thank god, is…Mom." Honor informed him.

"Good," he replied. "It was stupid anyway. I don't take chances with that. She was on the pill and I always…you know." Why was it so hard to say the word condom in his sister's presence? "I mean, there's no way anything's getting through that, right?"

Honor shrugged. "I mean, it's not impossible. This girl I went to high school with got pregnant with double protection."

Not impossible. It wasn't exactly a bet he'd want to put his money on in Vegas. It was ridiculous to be stuck on such a statistically insignificant likelihood. And yet those words 'not impossible,' rung in his head. He couldn't let this go; this chance, no matter how remote. It didn't matter what Rory said, what statistics said, what he said to himself. It didn't matter if believing something so outlandish made him the Mad Hatter of this tea party. He just couldn't shake it. He felt it deep down in his marrow. He felt it on a cellular level…in his DNA. He just knew that baby was his.

AN: So there you have it...another chapter. Rory is convinced this baby is Dean's...Logan, not so much. Who do you think is the baby daddy? And what do you think Logan is going to go about his daddy instincts? Do you think Honor was convinced by Logan saying it was just a scare? Is Shira really that clueless?

Also, while this story is a Rogan, it is also a story about The Gilmore family. About the full circle-ness of Rory following in her mother's footsteps and running away and of how that affects the whole family. So stay tuned for more stuff from Lorelai's POV, and possibly even Richard and Emily's.