Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own "Gilmore Girls". If I did, Milo Ventimiglia would be kidnapped in between takes and become my love slave.

Author's Note: You all have been SUCH amazing readers that I made this chapter EXTRA long and I hope that you enjoy it. Remember that this situation has happened if Rory and Dean had not gotten together and if he'd gone off with Lindsay again. Leaving Rory without Lorelei's support because they hadn't made up. ENJOY! PLEAAAASEEE Review. I can't even tell you how much it means…

Memories of the Past…

Lorelei Gilmore signed quietly to herself as she tiptoed down the stairs of the house that she and her boyfriend, Luke, inhabited together. Her curly dark hair fell into her face as she stepped clumsily almost crashing loudly to the floor off of the last stair onto the wooden floor of her living room.

She quickly recovered and put her ice-cold hands to her burning cheeks…thankfully it was dark, and no one could see the blush-attack that her now rosy cheeks were displaying harshly.

The old house creaked and shifted with each step, almost echoing the resounding bliss of her footsteps in the cool, midnight air. It almost felt as though the air held secrets – her memories of the past. Both beautiful and painful alike and the air grew thick with remembrance…of mistakes.

The struggle to breathe weighed heavily upon her chest as she stumbled to the counter, her blue cotton tank top full of the perspiration of pain. Her heart felt heavy, as though it might burst as she opened the perfectly white refrigerator door. She laughed as she stared at it's cleanliness…Luke's hard work scrubbing off the dirt. His incessant need for cleanliness and his desperate attempts to make her feel better, to help her connect with another human being again as closely as she was once with her daughter…

She shook away the thought and swiped her eyes sloppily and harshly with the side of her arm. Reaching her hand in the chilled containment box, she grabbed a glass of unfinished milk along with the leftovers from that night.

"Leftovers….how Rory would laugh if she knew about leftovers—" Lorelei stopped remembering. Her mouth twisted into a grimace as the supposedly refreshing milk tasted sour in her mouth, and the overwhelming desire to throw away the half eaten lasagna made her stomach turn. She pushed away the plate and looked longingly at the old white plastic coffee pot. It seemed to call out to her, begging her to open up to the thoughts that drained her. The thoughts that plagued her once youthful face, bringing with them the creases of worry on her forehead…

She painfully got up and touched the unused coffee pot with her fingertips softly. How she yearned for the past to be undone…her mistakes—one. Why couldn't she fix it?! Why didn't she immediately run to her daughter and embrace her once again? She yearned to take the child that she adored more than life…the beautiful, smart, unintentionally funny, playful daughter into her arms—the place where she belonged. Her quirky smile. Her eyes…how they sparkled when –

"What are you doing?" a sleepy deep voice said. Lorelei emerged from her thoughts and found herself with her hand in the running coffee pot.

Luke smiled and wiped the sleep out of his eyes, hair amuck and wild, with a crumpled t-shirt riding up his stomach.

Lorelei smiled and carefully removed her hand from the warm liquid. "Well, Mr. Sexy man…you look completely un-ridiculous in that little Brittany Spears like midriff-baring shirt. That's against the Chilton dress code, Mister!" she grinned.

"I look ridiculous?" he spoke wincingly as he pulled his t-shirt down, "I'm not the one with my hand in a running coffee pot!"

"Hey Luke, Edward Scissorhands called. He wants to know when to schedule the next hair appointment."

"Lorelei!" Luke whispered. "Why is your hand in a coffee pot?"

"It—well, it—" she tried to explain, "I'm, well…I'm cold."

Luke glanced at her knowingly and pulled out a chair. "Alright…" he started with tired compassion. "Let's talk about this so I can get back to sleep."

"We don't HAVE to talk." Lorelei said in a stubborn voice, "No. You can go back to sleep yourself. Don't worry about me. Just go." She pointed upstairs and pouted.

"Lorelei," Luke started, "You know very well that you'll just roll around not sleeping and keeping me awake when you come back up. Then you will proceed to head downstairs after no sleep and watch Chad Michael Murray make an ass of himself in front of some teenage girls on the television, pace back and forth in front of the coffee pot where the floor boards creak and I WON'T be able to sleep at all!"

"You could sleep through a train wreck if you needed to, Luke!" Lorelei countered angrily.

"That's—" he bantered eyes widening, "Not the point. The point is I'll be worried, have terrible sleepless dreams full of horrible things and coffee pots exploding in my face. Let's talk about this NOW." He scratched his scraggly haired chin and ran a strong hand through his messy hair. "Let's talk about this…you're worried. So, I'm worried." He slowly moved his hand on top of hers. "Talk to me." He whispered.

"It's just that--oh God…" Lorelei started as tears formed in her eyes, "I just can't stop thinking about Rory. How is she? Is she okay? Why was I so harsh?" her eyes widened spilling tears down her cheeks, "NO! I was not too harsh. He was…he was…married." She looked into Luke's forgiving eyes and whispered, "I don't care anymore. I just…I just miss her. And I want to see her."

Luke sat silently as he watched the tears fall quickly from her eyes. She wept aloud and wondered…he watched her and realized just how radiant she was. The frame of her face was perfect and her hair cascaded down in perfect ringlets. Her eyes were passionate and full of life…they showed him how truly beautiful the world could be. He only wished to see what she saw and feel what she felt. The beautiful creature whose lips met his own deserved the world. And all he was was the son of a hardware salesman.

He wanted to give her the world…he wanted to show her that he loved her more than anyone possibly could. Her happiness made him jubilant, her pain made him sink with her, but the elation that he felt with her was better than anything that he had ever experienced with anyone. He wanted her. Forever.

He leaned across the table and reached his hand across to stroke her cheek. She looked surprised at his gesture but couldn't look away as their eyes met…as they melted together. He stood up quickly and walked around the table and kneeled by her chair. "Call her," he whispered, "There is no way that she doesn't miss you more than anything right now. How could she live without you?" he cleared his throat and looked away, "I know that I sure can't."

Lorelei's mouth dropped at his sudden display of emotion. No words could form on her lips and she couldn't think of one wise crack to make at his beautiful expression of tenderness. She looked and him and sadly smiled whispering, "It might take a little more than that…I said some horrible things."

" No." he firmly said glancing at her once again, "Don't give me those puppy dog eyes either. She probably misses you more than anything…"

Lorelei smiled and slowly leaned down and kneeled next to Luke on the floor. She snaked her arms around his neck and pulled herself safely against the radiating warmth of his body. She pulled her face to his neck and whispered as her mournful words mixed with the saltiness of her tears. He wrapped his arms around her and held her as she rocked back and forth, slowly pouring out her sorrows into his chest.