Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls.

A/N: For now this is the last chapter of On From Here. I could go on forever but the story has to end somewhere. Thank you for all the reviews--I'm glad so many people liked it. Thanks for reading. :)

If this was a dream, Luke thought, it was the most real, most vivid dream he had ever had. He couldn't explain, could hardly even contemplate, what his body felt like at that moment. It was like someone had let open a floodgate inside of his body as a tidal wave of emotion swept through him from head to toe. He was kissing Lorelai Gilmore. After two years of thinking he would never lay eyes on her again he was kissing her. He was kissing the woman who had betrayed him. He was kissing the woman who had torn his heart apart so that it nearly killed him and when it didn't he could only wish it had. He was kissing the woman whose existence he had spent the past year trying to erase. And in that instant, Luke Danes knew he was kissing the only woman he would ever love.

He pulled back, ending the kiss after a few seconds since he knew a few seconds was as long as such an action would stun her into silence for. He stood there breathing deeply, her forearms still tightly in his grasp, his face inches from her. And he waited, waited for her to react. He wished, he prayed, that his touch, his kiss, had reminded her of all they had lost over these past two years, and of all they had had in the time before that as lovers, as friends, as—and Luke's heart stopped a moment as he realized he was actually going to put this term to use—as soul mates.

She seemed frozen in his arms, even her tears were stunned into stillness. And then she came alive. "No." She looked up at him. Her voice, although still not above a hoarse whisper, came out harsh. "You can't just do that, Luke. Not here, not now, not after what's happened. You don't get to just decide everything should be better…" Her breathing grew sharper and he could almost see her mind reeling. "When…when Rory was five…alright…when she was five she…she broke this glass elephant statue my aunt had given me. I…I don't even know why the hell I loved that damn thing, but I did and…ugh, so not the point... Anyway she was playing too close to the table, even though I had warned her not to, bumped into it, knocked it to the ground, and it shattered into about a thousand pieces. She felt horrible, she really, truly did. I knew that. She cried herself to sleep. But you know what Luke? No amount of tears could put that stupid little elephant back together. It laid in pieces in the trash that night, it was still in pieces in the trash the next morning, and to this day it's still in pieces…probably in some dumpster somewhere. It wasn't a fun lesson, but that was the day she learned that 'I'm sorry' can't fix everything." She looked at him pointedly and Luke knew she was talking about the kiss. He also refused to be dismissed that easily.

"Lorelai, I don't expect kissing you to fix everything. Hell, I don't expect it to fix anything…"

"Then what the hell do you think you're doing Luke!" Her anger, her tears, and the volume in her voice were all back and Luke knew she had felt what he had—her emotion was too raw for her not to have.

"Trying to get you to let me back in so we can fix it…"

"Not when it's broken this badly. Luke I can't be with you again! I can't! Maybe…maybe I wanted to but I can't! I can't trust you again Luke! I've never let anyone in like I did you and you hurt me Luke, you really, really hurt me. I can't survive that again, and Rory needs me to survive. I can't watch you be here physically and emotionally be somewhere else completely. I just can't…" She was crying harder again.

"So what Lorelai, that's it? I get one shot? Lorelai I screwed up! I get it! I'm not denying that! I fucked up! Okay? Is that what you want to hear? That I'm an ass? That I'm a screw up? That I'm emotionally retarded? What? What do you want? Cuz I'll say it all, I'll shout it from the rooftop if you want me too, cuz it's true, it's all true! I know that alright, I know all that and I'm sorry Lorelai! I'm so fucking sorry that 'sorry' doesn't even apply here, this is so beyond anything 'sorry' can cover!" He let his anger defuse enough to look into her eyes, streaming tears, and speak sincerely, "I never, ever, ever meant to hurt you. I'm sorry. I wish I could go back and redo this whole April situation, handle it all differently but I can't. I can't change what happened…"

"That's just the point Luke—you can't, and I can't bare being with you knowing that the second things get tough, the second a twist is thrown our way you're going to shut down. I can't watch you stop loving me again…"

"Is that what you think happened?" Luke couldn't believe what he was hearing. He found himself gapping for breath like someone had just driven a semi-truck straight into his gut. "Lorelai, damn it, I messed up. Things in my life got complicated and I did what I've always done, I turned inward, depended on myself to figure out what the hell to do, I sectioned things off and tried to focus on one thing at a time. That's the way I've always been and it's what's always worked because I've only ever had me to think about. Lorelai, I took you foregranted, I neglected you…" he heard his voice trail off as he felt his face redden with shame but he forced himself to continue. "I did a lot I'm not proud of Lorelai but damn it, not once, not ever, during the whole time with April, the whole time we were dating, the whole eight years I've known you, not once have I ever stopped loving you."

At his confession, at the confirmation of what she had known deep down all along, Lorelai's tears became vocal sobs and Luke wanted to pull her into his chest, wrap his arms around her like he had so many times before. He forced himself to remain as he was though, supporting her weight with his grasp on her arms and keeping her face within inches of his.

"Luke, I just can't deal with…with the possibility of this happening again of…"

"Of what Lorelai?" he heard the anger creep back into his voice. "Of me screwing up again? Well guess what? I'm gonna!"

She looked up at him, her surprise evident.

"Damn it, Lorelai, I'm not perfect! I am so far from perfect I can't even tell you and when it comes to people and emotions and sharing my life with someone I'm a complete fuck up! You just got a first hand lesson with that. Why do you think I've lived like I have for so long huh? You were different though Lorelai, you were worth working for, worth me trying to make up for all my emotional shortcomings, worth me letting someone in when it was so much easier for me to shut down. But I'm not perfect! I can't do that one hundred percent of the time! Sometimes I think that's what you wanted, that's what you expected me to be…but I'm human Lorelai, I'm just a normal, average, everyday, blue collar, flesh and bones screw-up, and I think you forgot that!" He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and recognized that the screaming match his attempt at reconciliation had turned into wasn't helping his cause. But he also reveled in how good it had felt to tell her that, to get that out in the open. Underneath everything that had happened he felt that maybe that was what he had been most angry about. Was getting it off his chest worth losing everything for? Well, it was too late for that concern to matter, but it was important for him to have said it. For his sake as well as hers if they were able to give this relationship another go there had to be no disillusions, there had to be just, well, just them, Luke and Lorelai, two very imperfect human beings who just happened to, hopefully, love each other enough to make up for it.

Lorelai bit her bottom lip, tears welling again in her eyes but, for the moment, not overflowing any further. "Well, Luke, I'm not asking you to be perfect, but I need someone who's imperfection doesn't lead to them not being 'all in.'" He saw her bottom lip quivering even harder for all the biting she was doing as she added softly, "I can't bare watching you drift away, watching you leave me again…"

Luke almost chuckled as he heard himself reply, "Well of course I'd leave you Lorelai." She looked so startled Luke almost lost his grip on her arms the way she jerked back. "There is no such thing as forever Lorelai. People fall in love knowing that one day they will eventually leave each other. That's why it's so hard to let people in, to give a part of yourself to someone else, because you're putting all this energy, so much of yourself, into something that you already know won't, can't, last. Maybe we'd grow apart, break up—and God help me I don't intend for that to ever happen—but even if, hopefully when, we don't we're still going to leave each other." He recognized her confusion and clarified, "We're not going to live forever." She took in his words, teeth grinding down on that bottom lip again, and he knew they meant something to her A part of him briefly wished Mr. Bolton could hear him now because Luke was sure there was nothing that could make that crazy old man happier than hearing his favorite student reverberate his life lessons in such a passionate, heartfelt way.

Luke took a half step closer to Lorelai, her eyes now wide, watching his every move as if she no longer knew what to make of him. He saw in her eyes her internal conflict, the battle that raged. She wanted to believe him…but two years had created a lot of material to hold her back with. He pulled her in slightly closer to him, not quite touching, but close, close enough to feel each other's breath, to feel each other's uncertainty, each other's fear, each other's want in the warm air that grazed their cheeks. "What makes it worth it, what makes the lack of forever bearable, is all the time in between." He shook her just enough to get her to look at him, to see his eyes blaze as he continued, "A middle! A middle, Lorelai, I want our middle! I get it now! I get it and I want it, I don't want it to take forty years, I don't want to wait until I'm old to be with you—I want to be with you while I grow old! I want us Lorelai! I want us!"

She tried to back away from him, shaking her head again. "But even if you don't run Luke, even if you don't…I don't know if I…Christopher…I mean…Luke, as hurt as I was by you, as wrong as you were, I was hurt so much more by myself and what I felt I was driven to…I knew I had hurt you Luke. I knew I had hurt you in the worst way I could. And I have to live with that everyday. Forgiven or not, I still live with that. And Christopher…"

"Do you love him?" Luke broke in, asking her calmly, seriously.

"Wha…no, no! You know I don't but it's just…he's…he's always around…he's…"

"Where is he?" Luke looked around the apartment. "Is he here?"

"No, of course not."

"Has he been?"

"No!"

"Of all the places you could have run Lorelai, you never went there, you never went to him, why not?"

"Because…"

"How many times since that night have you spoken with him?"

"None…"

"Then forget Christopher, Lorelai. I have."

"But how…"

"Because he's not here, and you're not there, and all this time I knew you wouldn't be. As mad as I was, I knew. Christopher is you're past Lorelai and when you're future fell apart and you're present was in shambles you ran to what you knew, where you thought you were safe, you ran to Chris. But you don't love him and I know that. He's not here," Luke closed the distance between them even further, "I am. Let me back in Lorelai. Just let me in. I can't heal over night and neither can you, but let me back in your future, we can heal together, we can start again, we can have our middle."

"Luke I can't just hand over my future to you, the rest of my life to you…so much has happened…so much…"

"Okay," he breathed, still holding her gaze in his, "how about just your present then? For starters, just your present."

She looked at him intently and he could feel her breath shake against his skin. She remained like that for a few seconds, her expression unreadable, and Luke once again found himself unsure of what to do, what to say next. So he kissed her. Slowly, lightly, he kissed her. And this time she didn't move away.

Luke wasn't sure what she was thinking, what she was feeling, hell, he wasn't sure what he was thinking. All he knew was that the longer his lips stayed on hers the more the rest of the world seemed to disintegrate into oblivion. The room, everything around them, was becoming no more than a swirl of misty haze, a kaleidoscope of shaded colors and distorted shapes. The longer the two of them remained, tied together in such a gesture, the further off and less important the future seemed. Tomorrow was quickly becoming light years away. And the past? Barely existent.

In a bold move he dared himself to open his eyes, to look at her, to see her, to try to gage if she was feeling half of what he was. As his eyelids fluttered open he almost stopped breathing at the sight of her skin so close to his, something so much more breathtaking than any dream could portray. Maybe she was thinking the same thing he was, maybe she had felt his intricate movements, whatever it was made her follow suit and soon the two bluest, deepest, truest eyes he had ever taken in were in front of him again, gazing back at him. It was then that he really did stop breathing. "Lorelai…" he gasped softly, slowly, and as her name rolled off of his tongue he let his voice trail off knowing there were no words that could appropriately follow such a word. He never had any intention of completing his sentence, of making a point, a statement. No, just her name, he just had to say her name, because right now it was the only word in the world that seemed to carry any weight, any feeling. It was the only word that made any sense.

"Luke…" she replied in the same gasping tone. Her voice shook as it filled the room with the sound of his name and when it did, a shot of electricity ran through him so strong he wasn't sure his heart would hold.

Unable to catch his breath he leaned his forehead lightly against hers and breathed, just breathed. She jumped a little at the contact but made no effort to move away. Taking a chance he let go of the grasp he had on her forearms, releasing them slowly and moving his hands up to brush the hair back from her face, his fingers brushing across her cheeks. And when the brown strands were once again tucked safely behind her ears he couldn't quite bare releasing her and succumbed to cupping her face in his hands, her cheeks, wet with sweat and tears from the evening's emotional roller coaster, were covered with his palms.

Then, for the first time in two years, Lorelai reached for him, reached with a touch that's intent was not to push him away. Although it wasn't meant to draw him nearer either, it was at the very least meant to keep him still—keep him still near her. Slowly, tentatively, she moved her hands to his chest, placing them lightly at first before then running them over the soft flannel she had once known so well. And then, finally, it all became too much and she fell into his chest, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and beginning to sob, sob uncontrollably. Only now she wasn't sobbing alone, she wasn't suffering in her own world, she was clinging to him now, holding the back of his shirt in fistfuls. Though his heart broke to hear her sob, he couldn't help lifting his head up, breathing a deep, incredulous, thankful breath because she was finally sobbing in a world he could hold her in, in a world he recognized—she had entered their world again.

He stepped forward closing any gap between their bodies and wrapped her tightly in his embrace, causing her only to cry harder. And he wanted to tell her it would be okay and he wanted to tell her not to cry and he wanted to tell her this so many things, but he couldn't. He couldn't because he didn't know, couldn't know, what was going to happen after this. He didn't know what was coming next, if it would all be okay. But he knew what he had in front of him, right now. He had her. He had asked her to let him back into her present and she had. And a present with Lorelai Gilmore was all he had ever really wanted.

She looked up at him and reached her hands up to grasp his face, tracing his features with her fingers, running her hands through his hair. "You're real," she sobbed, "you're actually real…God, Luke, so many times…so many times I actually thought I might have just dreamt you, dreamt it all…"

"Lorelai…" he started but stopped as she saw her shaking her head, wanting to go on, having more to say.

"…but now," she choked through streaming tears, "I…I just…I love you Luke Danes…I love you and that…that's the most real thing I've ever known." And with that she fell back into his chest again, one had clinging to his flannel like a lifeline, one tangled in the ends of his hair.

And then it happened. He had been fighting it all night but at the sound of her words, the feel of her touch, the reality of it all, something inside of him snapped and he lost his internal battle. He could no longer help it. He cried. Steady, should-shaking tears—silent, but present nonetheless. He cried for the second time since she'd left him. He cried for the second time since his father died. And he knew for a fact he had never cried more truly emotion filled tears in his life.

She looked up at him, her shock at his reaction evident. And it was then that she kissed him. Placed both of her hands on his cheeks, pulling his broad shoulders down just slightly, and kissed him.

He lost the ability to both stand and hold her at that and, having to give one up he of course choose the former, sinking them both to the floor. He let his back rest against the gray paint, his legs out straight in front of him, Lorelai Gilmore sitting in between them, wrapped in his arms, her lips still on his.

When she finally broke away, just an inch or so away, he breathed shakily, "I love you too…I—I love you…"

And she looked up at him with those big blue eyes and said, "I know." And Luke wished he could die right then and there because he honestly did not think there could be anything else in life that could make him feel half as elated as he was at that very moment in time.

They stayed like that, crying into each other's embrace, basking in the surrealness of the moment, the weightlessness that comes with finally receiving all you have ever wanted. Just her present, that was all he had asked for, and, as he looked down at the woman that had fallen asleep in his arms, he knew that was all he needed to go on. So long as he had her present, he could build them a future.

His left hand was entwined with hers and he was touched by the fact that she was so moved, so emotional, so in love with the knowledge that after two years she could finally touch him, really touch him, again that she was actually shaking, even in her sleep. It wasn't until he looked down that he realized it was his hand that shook. And he briefly felt embarrassed, just as he had briefly felt embarrassed when he had begun to cry, but, just as before, all such feeling went away the second he gazed down into the face of the woman he was opening his heart up for.

And so he held her, just held her tightly in his arms, like if he were to loosen his grip in the slightest she might slip away in his sleep, leaving him to wake up and find it was all a dream. He kissed the top of her head lightly, breathing in the smell of her shampoo—some odd combination of fruit that he was sure came in some sort neon bottle—a smell he thought he might never take in again. He swallowed hard as he leaned his head back against the wall. To him, it smelled like life, like being alive and here he was pressing her body, her brown curls, to his chest, to his heart, the aroma of 'alive' surrounding him inescapably as he drifted into his first real sleep in years.

He awoke before her in the morning, as he always had, and watched her sleeping peacefully, as he had always hoped he'd do again. And he couldn't help but smile at the situation. If anyone had told Luke Danes that he would hold Lorelai Gilmore again he wouldn't had believed them. If anyone had told him he would have found reason to live, really truly live, again he wouldn't have believed that either. But most especially, if anyone had told him that the night he finally got her back in his life would be spent with them both fully clothed, with him leaning up against a studio apartment wall in Brooklyn, watching her sleep soundly in his arms, he might have actually found that amusing. But that's the way it was. That's the way it happened. And as he looked down at her, brushing strands of hair from her face, he knew this was better than anything he had dreamed.

She awoke soon after, sharing his smile immediately upon seeing his face above hers, seeing he was so much more than just something she'd imagined. And in that, the breaking of the 'tomorrow' that had quickly become their next 'today,' they held each other close, each trying to figure out where to go with this new 'present' the dawn had brought, each trying to figure out what would become of them. There was so much unknown, so much still unspoken, so much that would have to be rebuilt. It was something each questioned whether they could undertake, knowing full well the consequences that awaited them if something should again go astray.

Luke knew what the answer should be. There was only one thing that made sense. What human would want to put themselves through such horrible, mind numbing pain again? It would be a suicide mission really, he thought, to attempt their relationship again, to make himself so vulnerable again, to love her so deeply again. He had to do what made sense.

She reached up and stroked his face with her palm, bringing him out of his thoughts. "What are you thinking about?"

He looked down into those blue eyes that never failed to reach straight into his very soul and knew he could never lie to her. He shook his head, "I was just thinking about all the reasons why two plus two can equal five."

She looked at him with one eyebrow arched and couldn't help but laugh when she realized his response was a serious one. "Luke," she giggled, "you're not making any sense, I'm supposed to be the one that talks crazy remember…"

Putting his fingers over her lips he silenced her as he smiled, "No, for the first time in a very long time I finally am making sense." He bent down and laid a kiss on her forehead. "You Lorelai Gilmore are the only thing that makes sense for me."

He could see by the way her eyes twinkled that she still thought he was talking crazy, but he could also see her start to understand—if not his words, his meaning at least—his very significant meaning.

He then saw the reservations that still hung in both their minds pass through her eyes as she asked again, almost uncertainly, "So what now?"

In truth he didn't know exactly, but he smiled through his shrug as he held her beautiful gaze and told her, "Well, we just go on," he paused as he kissed her lightly and added, "together," stopping again as she reached up to return the gesture before finishing, "on from here."