Matthew slammed the cell phone lid and lowered his rifle, then quickly fled the scene, realizing he had lost control of the situation. An ambulance squad came to the police station and took Rory into its care. Lorelai stood aback while her daughter was loaded onto the stretcher. She didn't move... she didn't say anything. She stood there, lifeless. As if all the energy in her body had been sucked out of her.

"Miss?" an officer greeted. "I'll give you a ride to the hospital."

Lorelai slowly let her eyes land on the tall young officer. He looked saddened and sorrowful for her. She was feeling nothing at the moment. "Thank you." she muttered. He gently guided her to the car and helped her into the front seat.

While the ambulance and single cop car headed off in the direction of the hospital the police chief was becoming very irrate.

"Damn it!" Chief Cook roared as his fist hit the desk. "I want this guy found!"

"Sir we're doing all we can." a young man replied.

"Well, that's not good enough." Cook replied slowly and directly. "He was on that phone..." Cook stated with a dead look in his eye. "He had both of those girls terrified. Your job is to find out where he is... and if you can't do that, deputy, then you'd better be finding yourself another job."

"Yes, sir." the deputy replied grabbing his hat.

"Take team 3 with you, search all the ground area within 15 blocks. Team 2 and team 1 are to search all buildings."

"Yes, sir."

"And send team 4 and 5 to the hospital. I want that ground covered from top to bottom." Cook rested his voice.

"That only leaves 1 team here, sir."

"Do it..." Cook leaned in closer to the deputy's face.

(32nd Street)

"Damn it, Lorelai." Luke huffed. "Where are you?" Luke continued to search the streets hoping to find Lorelai or Rory. He'd called Joe's several times but there was no answer. Luke wished he knew her cell phone number, but he had always been against cell phones, and now he was regretting it.

(The Hospital)

Lorelai sat alone in the waiting room. She was emotionless, as she awaited the doctor to confirm Rory's status. She sat there for what seemed like years, but it didn't matter anymore. Lorelai's mind was clogged with so much stress, and agony, there was no room for normal human function. She looked over to the opposite side of the room and spotted a coffee machine.

"Coffee." She muttered. "Luke." she referenced heartbrokenly. Her body sank into the chair.

"Ms. Gilmore?" the doctor asked calmly, as if he was afraid of bothering her.

"Yes." She replied slowly standing.

"Your daughter had a panic attack." The doctor replied. "Nothing to worry about. They're very common, and no harm has been done. Though she'll feel tired and achy for a while. You may take her home tomorrow morning. I suggest she spend the night here to rest."

Lorelai let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God." A sniffle. "If she was seriously hurt, or sick..." Lorelai couldn't continue.

"You may see her if you'd like." The doctor offered. "She's being moved to recovery as we speak. Room 315."

"Thank you. Thank you so much." Lorelai replied. She slowly, and unsteadily walked passed the doctor.

"Ms. Gilmore." The doctor called. "You don't look very well yourself. Perhaps you should have one of the nurses take a look at you."

"I'm fine." Lorelai said unconvincingly. "It's just been a bad... month." she added.

"I'll send in one of the nurses shortly." the doctor replied.

Lorelai walked into her daughter's room. Rory was laying on the bed staring straight up at the ceiling. Lorelai came over and sat down beside her.

"I'm very tired of hospitals." Rory stated randomly.

"So am I." Lorelai replied.

"I can't take it anymore." Rory said turning over and facing her mother.

Lorelai didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. She wanted to say something reassuring, something bold, and strong, but there was nothing of that nature to say.

"I keep thinking," Rory began, "that Luke is going to show up... that he'll come through the door and he'll be all worried and protective like he always is." Rory whimpered. "And he'll tell us everything will be okay... not to worry."

Lorelai let out a sputtered breath. She held her daughter's hand tightly. "You know... I keep thinking the same thing." She smiled. "But at the same time... I wonder what if he's really gone? Or dead?" Lorelai sobbed. "What if I never see him again... and I never get to tell him..." Lorelai stopped.

"That you love him." Rory said, filling in Lorelai's blank.

Lorelai shook her head yes.

(New York Police Department)

"Excuse me." Luke began. "I'm looking for a Lorelai Gilmore... or a Rory Gilmore... perhaps they've been here, or contacted you..."

"Who are you?" the secretary asked wearily.

"Luke Danes." Luke replied. "I'm a friend of theirs. I lost them, earlier, in a book store. I've been searching every store, every restaurant, every police station... I just... I want to find them."

"Stay here a moment please." The secretary answered.

A small spark of hope entered Luke's heart. When the secretary came back, Luke's heart was beating vigorously, awaiting her reply.

"Chief Cook will see you now." She pointed in the direction of his office.

Luke immediately took off to the destination. He opened the office door and laid eyes on the Chief.

"Hi.. I'm..."

"I know who you are." Cook interrupted. "Have a seat."

"Do you know where Lorelai is?" Luke asked quickly, while seating himself.

"Yes." Cooke answered "I do."

"Well, where is she is?" Luke asked concerned and impatiently.

"At the hospital, with her daughter." Cook noticed the horrified look in Luke's eye and sudden loss of breath. "Relax.." Cook added. "They're okay."

Luke's body tingled as a deep breath escaped from it. "Matthew...?" he asked breathlessly.

"He called her." Cook replied. "He's here somewhere."

"Jesus Christ." Luke mumbled. "That son of a..."

"You're help is needed, Mr. Danes." Cooke retorted. "We do intend on catching this guy. We have 5 teams searching the city for him at the moment."

"He's clever." Luke said in a low tone of voice. "It's like he knows everyone's move before they make it."

"Yes..." Cook sighed. "We deal with his type every day."

"He'll be expecting whatever it is you're planning."

"We're not planning anything." Cook smiled. "We move on impulse."