Disclaimer: Nope, nothing belongs to me, except the idea.
A/N: Again, thank you all for your reviews, I appreciate that you took the time to let me know what you think!
Not Meant To Be – Chapter 4
He pulls into the driveway and once the truck has come to a standstill, activates the parking brake, simultaneously removing the key from the ignition. The headlights die down. He only realizes that the car radio was switched on during the entire drive when suddenly it's completely silent inside the cabin.
Hidden in the shade behind the bushes next to the porch, they giggle quietly.
He gathers his stuff from the passenger seat and then gets out of the truck. Or so he thinks. In truth he remains sitting there, holding on to the green sports bag in his lap. Baby clothes. She didn't want them at the hospital any more. He isn't sure what he is supposed to do with them, though.
They shrug their shoulders at each other. "Maybe he's tired?" one of them offers.
Finally his limbs react to what his brain demands of them and they slowly set him in motion. As he climbs out of his truck, he feels like an old man, aching all over.
They grab everything they need, now ready to jump.
He mounts the steps leading onto the porch. His right hand clutches the sports bag, the other one fumbles for the key in his jeans pocket.
From their position, it's impossible to see his face. It's already pretty dark, after all.
He has finally found the key and is about to stick it into the keyhole when all hell breaks loose.
They jump up, they laugh, they throw balloons and confetti. They even carry a banner.
He is sure this must be a nightmare. But it isn't. It's almost the whole of Stars Hollow, congratulating him. A pacifier hits him in the head. From what he can make out in the darkness of the porch, it is blue.
Not knowing what else to do, he does the only thing he's good at in situations that scare him. He yells.
"Get the hell out of here! Goddamn idiots!"
They are silent. Now close enough, they can look him in the eyes. And what they see, explains a lot.
"Luke..." one of them says after a while.
He doesn't show any kind of reaction, standing there in front of the door, furiously trying to unlock it, so he can be safe from them. But fitting a key into the narrow hole it's supposed to go in isn't an easy thing to do when your hands are trembling.
Eventually someone takes they key from him and opens the door. It takes Ms. Patty only seconds to perform the task.
"What happened? Is it Lorelai?" she asks, slight panic resonating in her voice.
"It's not Lorelai. Can't talk about it right now. You gotta understand. Just get off my back! And take all that ba –"he pauses involuntarily and swallows a couple of times, "take all that stuff with you. I don't wanna see it anywhere near the house!" With that, he closes the door right in their faces.
Outside they hear a loud thud against the door only seconds after it has been shut.
Inside he lets himself collapse against the door separating him from their questioning looks and pitiful facial expressions. Preparing himself to let everything out, he buries his head in his crossed forearms. The scream that has been stuck in his throat ever since he left her at the hospital this evening, merely a shadow of her energetic self, is finally released.
They pause their shuffling about for a moment and raise their heads when they hear him cry out. Then they proceed to do their best removing all traces of the celebration they can't believe they're not going to have tonight.
Next to him lies the green sports bag and although he knows that they only meant well, Luke secretly hopes that they feel guilty.
If he could see the citizens of Stars Hollow walking home tonight, he would see his wish fulfilled.
The night is moonlit. There are a couple of clouds, driven across the sky by a light but steady summer wind. Grey patterns dance on the covers under which she's lying.
She opens her eyes and at first doesn't know where she is. When she makes an attempt to turn onto her side – she doesn't like sleeping on her back – the soreness of her entire abdomen painfully yanks her from her drowsy state.
Instinctively she peers over her bedside, looking for the tiny bed her child must be sleeping in. But there is no bed. And within tenths of seconds, it all comes back to her.
Not only is there no bed, but there is also no baby. At least no baby that is alive.
No baby.
Two words that make her cheeks burn, that make everything hurt twice as much as before, that make her want to grab a fistful of her own dark hair and tear at it until it falls out.
She lets her head sink back against the pillows. Lying on her back like this, with her eyes wide open and her mind achingly alert, she slowly lowers her gaze, away from the ceiling and down onto her body.
How she damned her huge belly during the last weeks of her pregnancy! Now it's gone, but somehow she doesn't feel relieved at all. She has to think of Cher's "If I Could Turn Back Time" and hates herself for making a connection to pop culture - a bad one on top of that.
Her gaze wanders to the button-down front of her night gown. Gingerly she touches the swell of her breasts underneath the soft material, knowing that a couple of days from now they will feel all hot and swollen. Breasts full of milk that won't be needed by anyone. Milk accumulating for the sole purpose of rubbing it in.
Rubbing it in that my baby died, she thinks, that our baby died.
His face appears before her mind's eye.
The face she looked at in-between the final pushes that were supposed to save her baby's life, although she didn't know that at the time.
The face that was so full of anticipation and compassion. The face that was so full of horror and utter disbelief only minutes later when they watched the doctors' futile attempts to save their happiness.
The face he buried in her hair earlier that night, unaware that she only pretended to be asleep.
The face that they saw resembled in the features of their tiny son only hours ago when they were given time to say their goodbyes.
She reaches over to her nightstand and picks up the small paper cup left there by one of the nurses. She empties its content into her mouth and swallows.
"In case you have trouble sleeping." The nurse had said.
Lorelai doubts that it would be hard for her to fall asleep without the pills, but she hopes that they will prevent her from remembering her dreams in the morning.