Rory woke up smelling smoke.
Grabbing her phone, she learnt that it was 3:35 in the morning. It could have been some of the nastier kids, perhaps the new generation of the Banyan boys, lighting a couch on fire in the middle of Peach street. But as her sleepiness quickly wore off, Rory knew it wasn't so.
She leaped out of bed and opened her bedroom door, only to find the hallway crawling with dark, intimidating smoke.
Without a second thought, she sprung into action. Rushing across the hall, holding her breath, nothing on her mind but Sylvie. She bursted into her little girl's bedroom, where the pink night light still cast smudged flamingo silhouettes on the walls. Much to Rory's relief, the six year old was sitting up in her bed, her small brow furrowed and her eyelids blinking forcefully, adapting to the strange situation. "Mommy?" she asked, packing all the questions in the world into those two syllables.
"Everything is going to be okay, sweetie, just wait here." Rory reassured, while pressure was building up inside of her. House fire. They were having a house fire. What's next? "Deep breath," she reminded herself, immediately regretting her decision as she realized the air was heavy with ash. "We are getting out of here." She whispered, both to herself and to Sylvie. "We're getting out of here and then I will call the fire department. Everything's going to be okay." She was never good under pressure. But the look in her daughter's eyes, so confused and fearful yet completely trusting, drove her into action. "Everything's going to be okay, baby. wait here."
Rory took another deep breath of the relatively clean air of Sylvie's bedroom, despite feeling the burn in her lungs as she did so, held it in and leapt back into the hallway. The smoke stung her eyes, and through the tears she could see a grim orange light shining from the direction of the kitchen. She closed herself in the bathroom, digging through the cabinet until she found what she was looking for - the extra large towel with the Totally Spies print on it, Sylvie's favorite since it was big enough for her to be wrapped around completely with it, like a burrito, as Rory used to point out while she would pad her way from the bathroom to her bedroom, soaking wet after a shower. It was perfect.
Rory soaked the towel with water as fast as she could. The water was warm, the fire must have heated up the pipes. She bursted back into the hallway and ran, the towel dripping on the floor and catching ash particles from the air. "Sweetie, it's a little wet but it will keep you safe," she explained as she wrapped the fabric around her petite, protesting child. "You're the prettiest little burrito I've ever seen," she whispered her usual joke into her ear, trying to soothe her. "Hold your breath for me, okay?" Sylvie nodded and took a deep breath. God bless her bright, cooperating child. Rory braced herself, and started counting, very slowly.
One. They rushed down the staircase, where the smoke was getting thicker and thicker. Two. She could barely see anything, but they had lived in that house for five years now, ever since she decided to move back to Stars Hollow. She knew where the front door was. Three. She could now see the flames roaring from her kitchen. No time to think about this now. She will have to take the back exit. Four. She felt Sylvie twitching in her arms through the damp cloth, desperate for air. Hold on, baby, she wanted to tell her. Five. Her free hand grabbed the back door's knob and twisted it. It was locked. She unlocked it with shaking fingers and the door opened into their backyard. They shot out into the summer night's air, gasping, and Rory continued to run until they reached the street, while Sylvie began to weep, very quietly, as if not to disturb her mother.
The youngest Gilmore Girls stood in peach street, panting. Flames were throwing strange shadows and orange surges through their windows.
Rory kneeled. "Look at me, sweetie." Sylvie turned to look at her, her tears carving white paths on her blackened cheeks. "We're okay. You're okay, I'm okay, that's all that matters. Everything else is just stuff. And we can get new stuff."
Rory could see that Sylvie was struggling to accept what she was trying to tell her. "Our house isn't just stuff," she finally blurted, breaking into tears.
"You're right, it isn't." Rory gulped hard, promising herself that her time to break down will come later. "But maybe the firemen can save it. Do you want me to call them now?"
Sylvie nodded frantically, while Rory suddenly remembered that her cell phone was left inside. The solution was clear.
"Let's run over to Grandma and Grandpa's house." She urged, trying to make it sound even a little bit of fun, for the sake of her child. Sylvie dropped the towel and began running towards Rory's childhood home, a way she knew very well. Rory collected the dirty towel, the one possession they had left from the house, threw another glance at her burning home and followed her daughter into the darkness.
"Mom!" Rory pounded at the front door, only now noticing that the back of her hand was black. She must have been filthy.
"Rory, sugar, what happened?!" The first to respond was, of course, Babette, who was sitting on her porch, stargazing, as she did almost every night since Morrey passed away.
"Babette!" Rory held back her tears at the concern of their loving neighbor. "Please, call the fire department. Our house caught fire, we just got out of it ourselves and I left my phone and I-"
"Say no more, sugar!" Babette threw one more worried look over her shoulder as she rushed into the house.
"Thank you," Rory mouthed after her, unable to make a sound. The firemen were on their way. And now, as a huge weight was lifted from her chest, she dropped down to her knees and held Sylvia Lorelai Gilmore as tight to her chest as she could, feeling almost light headed. "Everything's gonna be okay." She murmured, and Sylvie tightened her grip.
The door opened. "Mom," Rory choked on her own tears as Lorelai opened the door, looking increasingly unhinged with worry. Luke emerged from behind her, immediately jumping into action, collecting Sylvie into his strong arms and taking her inside, with Rory's grateful eyes following him as he went. "Mom, we had a fire," Rory felt the tears welling up, her chest tightening, the terrifying experience finally beginning to catch up with her.
"Oh, kid." Lorelai's voice reflected her heartbreak at the news. She kneeled beside her daughter. "You did so good, honey." She whispered. "You did so good." At that, Rory finally burst into tears. Lorelai held her close, ash and dirt clinging to her pink robe. "You kept her safe. You are a good mother." She added, stroking Rory's disheveled hair, as she wept even harder. "Come inside."
From that moment on, Rory relinquished all control over the situation. She let Lorelai march her to the bathroom, numbly taking her dirty pajamas off and cleaning herself. As the water began to turn clear again, she stumbled out to find that her mother left her a clean set of comfortable clothes. She got dressed, her head was pounding heavily, and began roaming the house, in search of Sylvie.
She found her seated on the bed in her old room, washed and dressed in a blue t-shirt that read 'YALE', all caps. Her blond hair was damp and brushed, and Rory thanked Luke in her heart, making a mental note to hug him really hard in the morning. She turned off the big light and crawled into bed with her daughter. "How're you doing, kiddo?" She whispered.
"Okay," Sylvie replied, snuggling against her.
"You were a real hero tonight," Rory smoothed a strand of flaxen hair and tucked it behind a small ear. "Thank you for being so brave."
"You're brave too, Mommy." Sylvie laid a small hand on Rory's chest, and Rory drew a deep breath in, a thing she vowed never to take for granted again.
"I love you, baby." She whispered to her drowsy daughter.
"I love you too, Mommy."
With that, Rory closed her eyes. She had her baby girl all safe and in one piece. Everything else could be dealt with tomorrow.