Chapter Four
Rory slowly surfaced to
consciousness. Upon opening her eyes, she saw that she was in an
immaculate white room, complete with a drawn green curtain, and
crisp, comfy sheets covering the bed upon which she was laying.
Somewhere in the distance, a monitor was beeping.
It took a
minute, but soon Rory remembered what had happened.
The accident. She had
been driving Paris's car because Paris had claimed she had a
headache. In the distance, the red Mustang in the opposing lane had
been swerving. Rory had tried to pull to the side, but the Mustang
was aiming straight for them. Paris's little Escort had stood no
chance against the bigger car, especially when the bigger car had
been going 95 mph. Now she was in the hospital.
Rory, of course
being Rory, began wondering about the passengers in the other car,
but more urgently about Paris. In the few blurry flashes Rory had to
reflect upon, she observed Paris being thrown from the car.
Suddenly, a frantic cry sounded from the hallway. Listening
closely, Rory vaguely recognized the strained voice.
"Look
lady, I really need to see my daughter… and I swear that if you do
not point me in her direction, you will also be needing a trip to the
E.R…" The woman's voice cracked on the last two words, though
the entire exclamation was peppered with saddened desperation.
Mommy… it was the very last coherent thought Rory had before
slipping back into the warm blanket that was unconsciousness.
Luke watched Lorelai as
she walked up to the help desk in the hospital. Her outer appearance
was that of a calm woman, but her eyes betrayed her. Those deep,
beautiful eyes… in them, Luke had seen something foreign. Something
he'd never seen there before… fear… desperation.
She was
scared. Hell, so was he.
He looked at his watch.
It was one thirty.
It's too early for this kind of crisis.
These things only happen at night… and to other people. He
thought fleetingly.
When the nurse had refused to let Lorelai into
the E.R., her outer cool cracked. Seeing Lorelai's eyes flood with
the unshed tears of a loving mother as she fought with the nurse made
Luke's heart ache. He wanted to ease her pain, to find Rory, to
cure her, and to finally tell Lorelai of his heart's desire.
He
reached out to her, cupping her side with his hand. Lorelai looked up
at him, eyes brimming with tears. The nurse used the temporary
distraction to her advantage and quickly scurried away.
Luke and
Lorelai stood alone in the long corridor. Luke holding Lorelai.
Lorelai being held up by Luke.
Twin tears began to run down her
face, and Luke couldn't help but pull her to him while taking a
shuddering breath. He could barely keep from breaking down himself,
but he had to be strong for Lorelai. He hugged her tighter when she
began to sob. Spotting two chairs down the hallway, and began leading
her towards them. Suddenly, she stopped. They had come to a door that
was slightly ajar.
"Rory," Lorelai said simply, her voice
shaking. Without hesitation, she pushed open the door and went
directly to the bedside of the dark-haired, soft-featured girl
sleeping in the center of the room.
And it really was her. There
she was. Rory lay on the hospital bed; sheets were tucked neatly
around her small body, her face and arms slightly scratched up, and
the cast on her left leg was clearly visible through the sheets.
Immediately, Lorelai
began sobbing. Respectfully, Luke stepped into the hallway to wait
for Lorelai to finish.
And so once again, he was left standing
with all his thoughts rumbling around his head. Just like the many
times he had politely bowed out of Lorelai's business.
He
retrieved the two chairs from down the hallway, and placed them on
the wall just outside the door. He sat down, took one fleeting look
at the now closed hospital door, and finally bowed his head, and
prayed.
