Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story.

Author's Note: Thank you to all who have read and reviewed. This has been great fun updating this often. I love to write! I will be heading back to the real world soon so the daily updates will not always be possible, but they sure have been fun now. I hope you enjoy today's installment!

Four days—four days and yet it felt like a thousand years. The days seemed to melt together. We were all a mindless mess of breakdowns. One minute I would find Rory lying in her bed sobbing. The next minute it would be Lorelai, the next minute it would be me. The men were strong, only showing their fear in quiet moments of aloneness or with their wives. Richard's large shoulders sagged with the weight of the guilt he was feeling. There had been such a change in the man I loved in the past four days. He seemed defeated, totally and completely defeated. I knew he blamed himself, the day after we had seen April Kelly I had gone up to our room to get something out of my suitcase and I thought he had been napping. I found him sitting on the bed, his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking. I didn't say anything, just went to him and put my arms around him.

"It's my fault," he sobbed. "It's all my fault."

"Richard," I whispered gently, kissing the top of his head. "Darling it wasn't your fault."

He looked up at me and continued, "She never wanted my life. She never wanted rich things. She's been running away from the life I gave her ever since she could crawl. Now—her child, our grandchild is gone because of my life. She never even wanted my life!"

I just kept my arms around him, trying to relieve some of the burden he felt.

Another change had come over Richard that I had noticed as well. Suddenly I was seeing a more gentle side of this man I had been married to for so long. I had seen his gentle nature towards me over the years, seen it with the girls as well, Rory certainly more than Lorelai, but he had never been one to show tenderness for very long. Now I was watching him sit on Rory's bed while she cried, his big hands patting her back and wiping away her tears. When Lorelai broke down in the kitchen, it was Richard that had gotten to her first, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her into him, letting his coat lapels get soaked with tears once again. And when Luke started slamming the cupboards shut when he was trying to make lunch, it was Richard that had quietly suggested they go for a walk to get some fresh air. I had loved this man for over half of my life, but in the past few days he had endeared me closer to him than I had ever thought possible.

It had been almost two days since we had gone to the police station and there had been nothing since. Neither Richard or I had told Lorelai Luke or Rory about the last part of our conversation with Detective Stevens but even though they didn't know about the conversation, I knew that each of us had the same sinking feeling in our hearts—that with each passing minute our chances of seeing Alicia again grew less and less. I tried to keep busy, cleaning up here and there, alphabetizing every thing in the house that could be alphabetized, but I still felt completely helpless.

" Hey Mom," Lorelai said walking into the living room while I was organizing her collection of America's Funniest Home Videos according to the year she had marked on the tape.

"Lorelai, I have never known such a pack rat. Are you the only one in the world that has the entire series of America's Funniest Home Videos on cassette tape?"

She shrugged, "It's not the whole series Mom. Just the Bob Saget years. The Tom Bergeron years aren't as funny and Daisy Fuentas was just wrong."

I just shook my head. "How are you?" I asked.

She shrugged, and sat down on the couch. I started to say something motherish, like she needed to rest or go eat something but any nagging about her health had gone totally unheeded so I stopped trying. I came and sat down next to her and we simply sat in silence.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" I asked. "Anything at all?"

She said nothing but answered my question by putting her head on my shoulder. Instantly I wrapped my arm around her. My how things have changed!

"How are you doing?" I asked, putting my head against hers.

"I can't stand the waiting anymore," she said. "This is killing me."

Once again I found myself speechless and I cursed myself for it. All of my life I had been able to speak my mind but now I was powerless to comfort my own family. Mothers were supposed to be the rock, the support, and right now I felt completely powerless. I wasn't used to feeling powerless. There was nothing I could do or say. Sitting there on the lumpy couch, holding my daughter I realized that maybe this was part of my problem as a parent. I always needed to be in control, being doing something or saying something. I was never very good at just comforting. Maybe there was still time I thought to myself as I reached up and smoothed my daughter's hair off her forehead. Maybe even after all this time she still needed me.

"Lorelai..." I started hesitantly.

"Mmmhmm?" she answered sleepily.

I hesitated for a moment. She was so tired, maybe now was not the best time.

"What is it Mom?" she asked.

"Lorelai, things have been going so well for you and I for the past few years. It's been wonderful. I know we've been able to talk about things that happened in the past and work some of those things out, but I want you to know...I mean...I never really told you..."

She sat up and looked at me, "What?"

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry for meddling in your life, I'm sorry for..."

"Mom," she cut me off, "You don't need to say that. We've said it a thousand times already."

"I know, but I never told you this. All those years, the Friday night dinners, the thing with Christopher and Luke, you always thought I was just being manipulative and controlling."

"No, I didn't" she countered and I affixed the stare.

"Okay, maybe I did," she said smiling slightly.

"I don't blame you," I said back. "But I never told you what was behind all that."

Her look softened and she said, "I think I have a pretty good idea Mom,"

I shook my head, "No I don't think you do Lorelai. When you were a baby, I'd nurse and think, 'This baby needs me, she's dependant on me,' and I loved that feeling. I loved that feeling of being needed. Now, I knew your father loved me, and my parents, but nobody had ever needed me the way you did. Then you got bigger and more and more you'd try to get down off my lap—as if you were running away from me even then. More and more you wanted to do things on your own and more and more I felt like you didn't need me anymore—but then sometimes when your dad was out of town, you'd come and wake me up in the middle of the night and I would hold you and sing to you and I felt on top of the world. Then I started sending you away when you came to me for bad dreams. I told you that you needed to be a big girl. I guess what I'm trying to say is. All of that was an effort to not only get back into your life but to also get you to or at least make me feel like you needed me again."

She was staring at me, probably confused by the fact that I so rarely opened up and shared my feelings with her. This was my daughter, not my best friend. That was the difference between Lorelai and I as mothers. I didn't open up to her, I protected her.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is—I know you're a grown woman now. You don't need me. You never really have and I accept that," I reached over and put my hand on the back of her head.

"I'm proud of you," I whispered, "I always have been."

She smiled, "Thank you Mom,"

There was a knock at the door and we both hurried to answer it. It was the police officer on duty.

"Anything?" we both asked. He shook his head.

"Mrs. Gilmore, I've just visited with Detective Stevens on radio. He says that you are cleared to go back to your house for the things that you wanted."

We both sighed in disappointment at the insignificance of his announcement.

"Thank you," I said smiling slightly. "Will you be accompanying us?"

"Yes, Officer Reddington will be staying here to guard your daughter's house."

I had wanted to go back to my house for a few days, pick up some different clothing, check on things, etc. Richard seemed happy to go to the house as well.

"We'll be back in a little while," I said, we started walking out the door. Luke and Rory went inside but Lorelai stood at the door and watched us leave.

"Mom?" she called to me as Richard got into the car.

"Yes?" I answered, turning back towards her.

"I always needed you," she said and then smiled as she turned and walked back inside.

I was beaming when I got into the car with Richard. He seemed to know what had gone on and he smiled at me before starting the car and driving down the road. The policeman started after us. The drive back to Hartford was fine, and I was still so giddy over Lorelai's statement that I had almost forgotten our current set of circumstances. Suddenly I was brought back to reality full throttle when we pulled into our neighborhood and I saw a man walking down the sidewalk. My heart leaped into my throat.

...It was George Shetford.

I hadn't seen the man in years but I was positive it was him.

"Richard! Stop the car!" I yelled. He quickly pulled over and turned to me. "What is it?" he cried.

"That man—that man over there, on the sidewalk. It's George! It's George Shetford." Richard turned and he saw it as well. He almost tore the door off of the car getting out. The policeman hurried over to us.

"What is it?" he asked.

"That man—the one walking down the street, he's George Shetford. Lorraine's husband."

"Are you certain?" he asked.

"Yes," we both nodded. George was getting closer and noticing us.

"Okay," the officer said. "Stay right here. Don't do anything,"

Suddenly he jumped in front of George. "You—stay where you are,"

George looked very startled and put his hands up. "What are you doing?" he stammered.

"Are you George Shetford?" the policeman asked.

"Yes," George said, the look of confusion and fear growing in his eyes.

"Mr. Shetford, I need you to come with me immediately to the Hartford police station immediately."

"What is this about?" he yelled.

"Just get into the car Sir," the officer replied.

"I don't understand...am I under arrest?"

Suddenly he saw us standing by our car. "Richard! Emily! Is that you?" he yelled out. "Look..." he said to the police officer, "There's been some sort of mistake. Those are the Gilmores over there. They'll vouch for me." He turned back towards us, "Richard! Emily! Please, tell them who I am!"

Against all logic I stepped towards him. Richard grabbed my arm but I jerked away.

"Please, stay back Mrs. Gilmore!" the policeman ordered as he took a hold of George, but I kept coming towards them.

"George," I said. "Please, just tell us where Alicia is," I pleaded.

By now George knew that there was something up with us. "Emily, what is this? Whose Alicia?"

"George please!" I said firmly. "Just tell us where Alicia is. She's not your daughter. She belongs with her parents."

He stared at us. "Emily, I swear I don't know what you're talking about."

"George..." I pleaded. "I know it must have been devastating for you and Lorraine when the baby died. I can't begin to understand that pain... but Alicia doesn't belong to you. Give her back."

He looked at me and shook his head. The policeman jerked his arms behind his back. George struggled as the officer forced him into the car.

"Emily...you have to believe me. Lorraine and I had a baby girl soon after we moved. She lived and as far as I know she is still living. Lorraine ran off and left me when the kid was two. I haven't seen Lorraine in over thirty years."