Dr. Spencer to room 306. Dr. Spencer to room 306.

306? Why was that number so familiar? The pensive look that Luke had been wearing suddenly turned to one of panic. He was trying not to show his fear, but she could see it in his eyes.



The two jumped up simultaneously and bolted down the hall, the clicking of Rory's heels on the tile matching the pace of the long strides Luke was taking back to room 306.

She wanted to ask. Wanted to find out what had happened, what Luke was going to tell her before this happened, but she couldn't. She couldn't find the words. And she could tell by the expression on Luke's face, urgent, anxious, scared shitless... that she didn't want to know. Not yet. Not after all this.

They rushed to the room, and when they arrived, there were already doctors, nurses, orderlies rushing in and out.

What is it? Elaine! What is it? Luke asked desperately to a nurse he apparently knew.

Mr. Danes... One moment. We don't know...

What is it? Luke asked urgently, grabbing the nurse's arm as she tried to walk away.

Her heart rate, I think, Mr. Danes. It's out of control.

Is that bad? Luke asked, looking like he already knew the answer.

We don't know yet. Just... go and get some coffee in the nurse's lounge. I'll send someone up to get you as soon as we know something.

Elaine! We need those syringes stat! A doctor called from inside the room. Unwillingly, Luke let the nurse go and shoved his arms in his jeans pockets. Suddenly, they were alone in the hallway, just Luke and Rory. Her palms were clammy, her face was dry. She felt planted to her spot. she asked, feeling like a small child wandering through dark hallways to her parent's room after a nightmare.

She didn't have to ask the question. He could see it in her eyes. They don't know, Rory. He took a huge breath, removed his cap and ran a hand through his hair, and put his cap back on. One day she just...

***Flashback***

Luke looked over to the window table. He already knew what he would see... the same thing he had seen for weeks now. Lorelai sitting at a table for two, by herself, with a mug of coffee. She didn't drink it, just ran her finger over the edge of the mug. He figured that she and Rory had had another fight: it was Rory's 28th birthday, he knew, a few days ago, and Lorelai hadn't gone down to New York. In fact, she had been going down less and less this past year... or was it two years? Before, she had gone down at least once a month, usually more. Now, when she went down, it was a short visit, and she never had any news. Never wanted to talk about it. He supposed it must be hard for her, for Rory to be so far away when they had been so close. He had tried to tantalize her with burgers, fries, french toast, pancakes, all of her old favorites, but she wouldn't eat anything. She just sat at that window, looking out into the street. He was getting worried now. She ate now and then, but never as much as she used to. In fact, he could hardly believe it, but he didn't think she was eating enough. One wouldn't think that Lorelai could have gotten any thinner than she used to be, but she was. She had aged with Rory gone... when Rory had been there, the two could have been sisters, but now...

She was still gorgeous, there was no doubt about that, but she looked so sad all the time. Her eyes looked old, like she had seen the world and hadn't been impressed.

Luke leaned into the kitchen and pulled a plate out. Turkey club, fries, pie. He brought the plates over to Lorelai and placed them down in front of her. She didn't even acknowledge him.

It's almost Thanksgiving, he said.



I was thinking... about putting up some decorations this year, he continued, waiting for some jab from her. Trying to make sure that the old Lorelai wasn't gone.



Want to help me put them up?

She looked at him. Smiled. It was a genuine smile... but sad. He couldn't explain it. No, thanks Luke. She looked down at the plate in front of her, picked up a fry and put it down, then stood. She reached for her bag, and Luke watched as she almost fell out of her high heeled shoes. He grabbed her elbow, to steady her. Reached around her back. You OK?

Yeah. Thanks, Luke. She smiled again. That sad smile. He yearned for that grin he had taken for granted for so many years.

I'll see you for dinner? he asked.

That smile... except weaker this time. She walked towards the door, teetered again. The clothes and shoes she had used to wear with pride, that had made her beautiful and strong-looking now looked like dress-up clothes on a child. She reached for the doorknob, and Luke watched as her knee buckled. She tripped, started for the floor. Only... something was wrong. She wasn't trying to steady herself. Gravity had taken over. Luke ran towards her and caught her just before she hit the floor.

Lorelai! Lorelai, are you OK? There was no answer. Her beautiful blue eyes were closed, like she was sleeping. Her gorgeous ivory skin had gone white as skim milk. He put his ear to her lips. She isn't breathing! Someone call an ambulance! Lorelai! Lorelai!