sorry if you get any alerts twice; there seemed to be a problem updating this chapter the first time

Title: What Lies Within Us

Chp. 20 Personal Demons

Disclaimer: Unless I morphed into a Palladino last night, I own nothing. Hell, even the title comes from a quote by someone else.

Intro: If you're looking for this now, I suggest reading some previous chapters.

Rating: PG-13

Author's note: Sorry, sorry, sorry. So I haven't gotten this chapter out due to having no spare time these past couple weeks. And technically I don't have it now, but inspiration struck and wouldn't let me go, so I am forgoing sleep for this. Nearly every single review I got didn't talk about the story, but instead was along the lines of 'update now'. And, longer chapter, even if it's not up to the 9000 words or so that there were, for example, for chp 14.

And, normally I don't respond to individual reviews due to the fact it takes up so much space, but I just want to address the one about how this is becoming like every other ffnet story as Rory got into a car accident. I completely understand your point. I struggled with the idea of it happening as I had the same thought when I was writing it, but her indisposition was a necessary plot point, and I thought it was better than having her get struck by lightning as it fit with the timeline of the story. I'd describe why it was a necessary plot point, but that would sort of ruin things. I'm hoping the story doesn't finish too clichéd.

"What happened?" Tristan finally found the nerve to ask the question once they were back on the highway. Before they had just been concerned with getting out of Yale as fast as possible, and getting to Rory. Even now Luke was driving like a demon, weaving in and out of traffic and probably doubling the speed limit.

"She was hit by an oncoming car," Luke's words were grim as he stayed focused on the road, not wanting them to meet with their own accident on the way there. "They called Lorelai from the hospital as Rory had her number programmed in her cell. They wouldn't give her any other details until she got there." It was hard to speak normally at this point, when the girl who was like a daughter to him may or may not be alive. He felt himself choking up, but ignored it, focusing on his driving and other practicalities to avoid thinking about the worst case scenario.

"So Lorelai doesn't know if she's okay?" Only the hitch in Tristan's voice betrayed the fears bubbling up inside him. He knew as well as Luke did that at this point Lorelai didn't even know if her daughter was alive.

Luke didn't answer that directly, not wanting to focus on the answer. "She'll be fine," was all he replied determinedly, if for the simple fact that he and Lorelai could take no other solution. All he could here in his mind was Lorelai's broken voice over the phone as she had told him Rory had been in an accident. And the fact that she had to go face it at the hospital all alone until he got there.

"Thank you for getting me," Tristan told him, knowing that Luke could have taken off as soon as he heard the news. Tristan would have spent the remainder of the holidays oblivious to anything of the situation, not knowing anything had happened. As he thought about it now, he had no place rushing to her bedside, but that had never occurred to him as he had ran behind Luke to his truck.

Luke just nodded. It had never occurred to him not to find Tristan before leaving, even if now he saw why Tristan had thought he wouldn't. But he had seen the stricken look that had hit Tristan's face when he had heard the news, saw the paleness of his features even now, and he knew he had done the right thing. Even if Rory was d……no matter what, no matter how things played out after, she should have all the people there who loved her.

"Where's my daughter?" Lorelai's voice was close to hysterical as she approached the front desk in the emergency room. The smell and the atmosphere brought back every experience she'd had in a hospital. Her father's heart attack, Rory's birth……

"Who's your daughter?" The nurse behind the desk, while not of the most soothing nature, was used to the people who came into the emergency room crazed with worry.

"Rory Gilmore, Lorelai Gilmore," Lorelai corrected herself as she remembered what name would legally be on Rory's drivers license.

She could see as the woman flipped through some papers, then looked up at her, her face inscrutable. "If you'd like to have a seat……" she began, her arm motioning towards the waiting room as she held out a clipboard.

"No, no!" Lorelai was already panicked at the expression on the woman's face. "I am not going to sit there and wait, I'm not going to fill out some bloody forms, I am going to wait right here and make your life a living hell until some tells me what the hell is going on."

"Relax, ma'am," the nurse's voice was firm, but empathetic. "I'm going to get the doctor to talk to you. We just need some information on your daughter to make sure our records are up to date; allergies, surgeries etc. we need to make sure we know it all."

Lorelai relaxed slightly, but only a little. If they needed that information, that meant that Rory was alive. They wouldn't care what a corpse was allergic to. Thinking that word in her mind shocked her, but now that she believed Rory was alive it didn't have the same effect. "I'm going to stand here and fill it all out while I wait for the doctor," she emphasized the word carefully as she leaned against the counter, not wanting to give in, but trying to avoid going postal on the nurse.

As the woman went in search of the doctor, Lorelai tried to fill out the forms she had been handed, but found that she couldn't. Her hands began to shake uncontrollably, and even holding the pen with both hands didn't help. She glanced guiltily at the other nurse behind the desk, knowing that she might come off as some junkie, completely strung out. There was something about hospitals, or rather her daughter in the hospital, that reduced her from the self-confident woman she was to a blubbering mess.

The family history section blurred before her watering eyes, and she wanted nothing more than for this to be some horrid dream. She wished that there had been no ringing of the phone, no impartial man on the other end, refusing to tell her nothing but that her daughter had been in an accident, allowing her to think the worst. And at the very least, she wished Luke was there with her. This was supposed to be one of the benefits of the committed relationship, not doing it all alone anymore.

Her concentration shot to pieces, she watched as the nurse returned with the doctor, and she wanted to cry at how grim the older woman's face looked. "Rory?' she tried to make her voice steady, not able to expand her question beyond her daughters single name, and she knew she sounded decades younger than her years.

"Ms. Gilmore," the woman's voice was brisk, the tone of someone who had become desensitized to the excess of emotions. "Your daughter has some sustained some serious injuries, but the worst of the problems lays in that her spleen was ruptured as a result of the accident, as well as some other internal bleeding. We're going to be taking her into surgery as soon as the surgeon comes down."

Lorelai found herself bracing herself on the counter. "Is she going to be allright?" her words were soft.

For all her briskness, the woman was empathetic. "There are no guarantees," her voice was gentle as she watched Lorelai's fingers turn white from their tight grip on the counter. "She's had some severe injuries. We hope that a splenectomy, removing her spleen, will stop the worst of her problems, but as with any surgeries there are risks. Hopefully her other injuries will not complicate anything, and we can treat everything. We are going to do everything we can for your daughter Ms.Gilmore, don't worry."

Not able to reply with words, Lorelai just nodded, and the woman reached out and squeezed her arm. "I need to get back to your daughter. But as soon as you finish with the forms Doris will take you to the surgical waiting room. We will come find you the second that we know anything. If you have any questions, just let us know." She motioned to the nurse behind her who stepped forward before the doctor hurried away.

Lorelai allowed herself to be lowered into a chair, and found herself fumbling around in her purse for her cell phone. "I'm sorry," the nurse said gently, putting her hand over Lorelai's before she could flip open the phone, "You can't use those in the hospital."

She gave a half laugh, almost devoid of humour as she was reminded of the enforced policy at Luke's. What was the point of having a cell phone if you couldn't use it? But before she could let her emotions overtake her and try to fight with the nurse, the woman motioned towards the desk. "I have a phone back there you can use."

The drive to the hospital was spent in near silence, both men sick with worry. And at this point there was little to say. Both knew that any platitudes that they shared would be meaningless, and they were still male enough to not speak about the emotions affecting them both.

Tristan had no control over the thoughts that were racing through his mind. All he could focus on was the worst case scenario, he excelled at that. All he could picture was her body, bloody and broken, when really he knew he was imposing her face on the body of his friend Isaac's mangled body in Iraq. It was one thing to voluntary give her up, knowing she was allright, it was another to think of literally living without her; of any of them living without her. And as was his wont, he could do nothing but blame himself, knowing she had got in the accident coming after him.

They pulled up to the hospital, tires squealing. Tristan knew that Luke had to resist the urge to simply leave the truck at the ER entrance, but went through the hassle of parking in the available lot. They were both out of the vehicle instantaneously, ready to rush into the hospital when Luke's cell phone rang.

"Hello?" he stopped short, flipping open the phone quickly when he saw Lorelai's name on the call display. "We're almost there Lorelai."

Tristan watched as he had a conversation over the phone, unable to hear anything but Luke's one-sided responses. He wanted to demand to know what was going on, but forced himself to wait patiently while Luke spoke, knowing forcing it would solve nothing. But while the worried expression never left Luke's face, there was no devastation that would have come if he had learned Rory had died.

As Luke hung up the phone, Tristan looked at him expectantly, struck by how old Luke looked under the stress of the situation. "Rory's in surgery," he told Tristan quietly. "She's just going in now. She's got a ruptured spleen and other injuries."

Tristan sucked in his breath at the news. "Is she going to be………?"

Luke sighed and cut him off before he could finish, "They don't know," he gave the answer Lorelai had given him, her voice breaking at the news. He ran his hand over his face, composing himself before looking back at Tristan. "Let's get inside." He wanted to be there, not just to be there first hand, but to be there for Lorelai.

As they made their way to the hospital, they were still in a hurry, but not at the sprinting pace they were before. Tristan wanted to curse whoever designed parking at hospitals. Not only did they take advantage of the prices people would pay to visit their loved ones in the hospital, it seemed an unwritten rule that the lots would be far away from the door.

After debating they decided it was best to go in through the emergency entrance. Tristan followed behind Luke as the determined man strode through the automatic doors. As soon as he entered the hospital, and the smell and then the memories hit him, he had a reaction he hadn't been prepared for.

He ran back out of the hospital.

Tristan was ten feet from the hospital doors, panting heavily when Luke caught up with him. "What's going on?" he demanded as Tristan stopped at the sound of Luke's voice.

He didn't answer right away, he couldn't. He didn't know how to explain. "I can't," was all he replied, his voice helpless.

"Can't what?" he could hear the impatience in Luke's voice.

"Go in," Tristan admitted, hanging his head, unable to look at the other man.

It was a reaction he hadn't been expecting, although in all respects he should have. It was the first time he had been at a hospital since his stay before. Being tended to at the Gilmore house had sent him into a catatonic state with his flashbacks; as soon as he had been assaulted with the smells of the hospital it had threatened to do much worse. It was completely irrational, but he couldn't stop his almost phobic response to the doors of the hospital. As the memories threatened to overwhelm him, his flight or fight response had kicked in, and he had fled from the hospital, unable to find the emotional strength to go past the physical barriers of the doors into the hospital.

It wasn't the building, it was horrors in his life the building seemed to represent to his psyche.

He knew that Rory was on the other side of those doors, but he couldn't bring himself to go in. He cursed the weakness that was within him, but he couldn't control it, he didn't know how. This disease was like a part of him now, and he couldn't shake it.

"I'll wait out here," he hated admitting his cowardice as he saw it, but knew he wasn't strong enough to overcome it. It may be crediting the man with more perception than he had, but he knew Luke understood what he was talking about.

To his credit, Luke didn't try to force him, knew that this wasn't something he could fix with simple words. And as much as he felt for Tristan, and knew the agony he was going through, he couldn't stay out here to comfort him. Not when Lorelai was inside, waiting for news on Rory. "I'll come get you if there is any news," his tone was non-judgemental, and placed a hand supportively on Tristan's back for a moment before taking off at a jog for the hospital doors.

"Lorelai!" she heard her name being called as she rested her head in her hands, and she looked up to see Luke rushing towards her. She jumped to her feet, feeling her eyes fill with tears again as he enveloped her in his arms.

"I'm so scared," she muttered the words into his shoulder, words she would never have dreamed of uttering before. That was the problem when you got in the habit of depending on someone, you couldn't stop.

"I know," Luke replied, holding her tightly, wishing there was something he could do to make everything allright. "It's going to be fine. She's going to be fine. Rory's young, she's strong, she'll pull through." It didn't matter that he had no medical basis for that opinion, he knew that it would be better for both of them if they could believe it.

Lorelai pulled away slightly, but kept his hand in hers as she led him to the seats available. "I brought Tristan," Luke felt the need to tell her as they sat down.

"Where is he?" she asked, refusing to relinquish his hand even now. She wiped the tears from her eyes with her free hand, and looked around for the blonde man. There was no thought in her mind to question the logic of his coming.

"Outside," she heard the emotion in Luke's voice, and looked up at him as he continued. "He couldn't come in. It was the hospital, it brings back too much for him. We had just gotten in the doors and he bolted like a bat out of hell. This isn't like my discomfort, I don't think he's capable of coming in."

"Poor boy," and even thought her words sounded like they were pitying, it was far from that. It was sympathy for the man, still a boy in many ways, who had been through so much. And as selfish as it was, she thanked God again for that all they'd been through, Rory had never had to see any of the true horrors that there were in the world.

Tristan knew that those people entering in and out of the hospital, and at the nurse's station inside the ER doors, thought he was insane. He couldn't blame them as he had been pacing outside the hospital since Luke had left him; every so often he would stalk towards the doors determinedly, but every time he got close he veered off and went back to pacing a safe distance away.

He wanted to scream in frustration, and the tears that filled his eyes weren't of sorrow, but of anger. He wanted to be in there, be there for Rory more than anything, but he couldn't. It was like there was something inside him holding him back, some safety mechanism that made entering the hospital like running into a burning building. It was as if his survival instinct wouldn't let him go in.

This was why he and Rory wouldn't work. He was damaged goods, fucked up beyond all belief. This was worse than the nightmares, the flashbacks or flinching at the sound of a car backfiring. This put him into the fucking nuts territory, a place that he hadn't thought he was. And as insane and illogical as it all was, he couldn't do anything to change it. He couldn't make himself take a step past those doors.

He wanted to do was focus on her, but all he could think of was himself. His weakness, his inherent flaws. He should just turn around and go home, she would never know he was here anyway. He should just get a hold of Luke and get him to let him know what was going on. But as much as his mind told him to go, his heart wouldn't let him. Because even if he couldn't go inside, he couldn't leave her here, not when she might not come back.

He wished he had been near a hospital since his release, but why would he have? It was one thing with the dreams and episodes; as much as he hated them, he expected and understood them. They were part of his life. But this irrational fear that held him in it's grip was something else entirely, and as much as he convinced himself he knew it was nonsense, every time he made a motion towards the doors he backed away again in fear.

And as much as he was focusing on Rory, he felt that niggling little part in the back of his brain reminding him that they didn't let you be a doctor if you couldn't go into a hospital. He had thought that he would be strong enough to handle all this on his own, his own form of shock therapy, but this was proving that he couldn't. And the greater fear was that no psychiatrist would be able to help him either.

"How long is it going to take?" Luke asked Lorelai, still clutching her hand tightly in his.

"I don't know," her voice was hollow. "They don't know. It depends on the damage, it depends on whether they have to remove the entire spleen, it depends on…..how successful they are." She choked out the last part.

"Do you want some coffee?" he asked, wanting to do something for her, anything to make this whole situation slightly more bearable. And, as before when they were in a crisis, the practical necessities were what he was good at.

"No," she replied, probably the first time she had ever answered negatively to that question, and he felt himself floundering at the response. He wanted her to send him on some errand, any errand, just to be helpful. He wanted to have some use, just so he could feel some control in this situation they could do nothing to change.

And, as if she could read into his mind, she leaned against him and, in a very un-Lorelai moment, admitted weakness, "I just need you to hold me."

He stood at the doors of the hospital. He couldn't go in, but something wouldn't let him leave either. It was like being stuck in some kind of purgatory, in limbo between two worlds. Already a few nurses had approached him, scared he was some kind of meth addict from his actions. He had laughed self-deprecatingly when one more daring woman had asked if he needed help, but managed to convince her he wasn't a dangerous addict before she called security.

Tristan had been determined to avoid this feeling of helplessness. It was why he had wanted to become a doctor, so he would never have to walk among the wounded again, unable to help. It was why he pushed Rory away, never wanted to feel the inadequacies that came when he was reminded of just how far from a whole person he was. He wanted control of his life, but that was being denied to him in the worst way imaginable. Not even so much because of the impact on his career ambitions, but because he couldn't go in there when the woman that he loved was near death.

He really should go, accept defeat.

But even as the thought crossed his mind again, he went back to pacing, knowing that would never happen, not until he knew she was going to be okay.

It was a long time later when Lorelai's name was being called once again. "Ms.Gilmore?" the voice was soft, insistently waking her up, and she pulled herself up from where she had fallen asleep in Luke's arms, exhausted from emotions and tears. She could feel him stirring as well.

It was the surgeon, the one who had operated on Rory, with a nurse behind her. And she was covered in blood, so much blood, and Lorelai could only raise her hand to her mouth in shock.

And as she felt Luke's arms encircle her, she didn't care if she was being hysterical, she didn't care what they thought of her. All she knew was that her daughters surgeon was standing there, covered in blood, and she wasn't smiling. All she could manage was a shrill, "Where's Rory?"

Tristan was sitting by the side of the hospital, his head in his hands, worn out and frustrated. Lack of sleep, emotional exhaustion and worry were eating away at him, and he had no energy left to give. All he could picture was Rory's face in his mind, at times smiling like she had after they had spent the night together, at times berating him for being weak, half a man, unable to be there for her when she needed him. He didn't know which one was more torturous.

Darkness had long since settled in, but the ER kept busy. Injuries didn't just stop because it was night. Time after time he watched ambulances roll in, and time after time he kept waiting for someone to come out and tell him it was the end, they could do nothing for her. That was if they even remembered that he was here. He was insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but he still couldn't bring himself to leave.

It was even as he was picturing Rory again that he saw a man clad in flannel jog out of the hospital and glance around. "Luke," he tried to call, knowing the man was looking for him, but his voice was weak and scratchy. He tried again, trying to infuse his voice with volume and strength, "Luke!"

The man heard him the second time, but as he turned to Tristan he looked flustered and shaken, not in control as he had been before. He didn't even walk over to Tristan, just called out, "The doctor's out. And with that he jogged back in to the hospital. And it was if he had forgotten why Tristan was out here, it was as if he had just been out for a smoke or something and the man was coming to fetch him.

But at the same time it spurred him in to action in a way nothing else could have. Before he had always assumed that if anything happened, they would let him know, but Luke's vague statement told him nothing. He had to know; know if she was alive, know if she was okay, know everything. And he couldn't do that standing out in the darkness all by himself.

Of course none of the thought process was conscious; if he had stopped to think about everything the situation might not play out the way it did. He was chasing Luke into the hospital as soon as the older man had turned his back.

Sorry about the wait. Massive school commitments that I am ignoring even now as I write. Who knew becoming an eye doctor would be so much work? And, writer's block sucks. Even with the chapter idea in my mind, I had a hard time writing it for awhile.

I have this knack for posting stories so that they come on the site in the middle of the night, so nobody ever really knows its up. Since I imagine this happened again, so glad you found the story!