Telling Time
Lorelai blinked blearily at the clock hanging above the nurses' station. The little hand was on the one, and the big hand hovered somewhere between the seven and the eight. She was so tired she couldn't even tell what time it was; all the silly games she'd taught Rory when she was learning to tell time had flown right out of her head. It's late, she thought, her mind a fog. No. It's early.
She glanced sideways at her sleeping family. She owed Sookie big-time for this, spending all night in the Emergency room, waiting. Although Sookie had the enviable power of being able to sleep anywhere; right now her eyes were blissfully closed, chin propped on her hand, completely out. Rory was scrunched in an uncomfortable ball next to her, but she had managed to fall asleep too. The kid wasn't going anywhere. She couldn't, not without Lorelai. And Lorelai was warmed by the absolute certainty that even if she could, she wouldn't.
Not without Lorelai.
Her parents were a different matter, but she was secretly gratified that they'd stayed. They hadn't needed to, and she hadn't asked them, but it was so happily normal that they had. Normal parents waited in the emergency room with their daughter when their daughter's boyfriend was hurt. The Gilmores weren't normal, and it was highly unlikely that they would ever accept Luke as Lorelai's boyfriend unconditionally- to say nothing of accepting Lorelai as their daughter, unconditionally. But there were Richard and Emily, looking laughably out of place and excruciatingly uncomfortable, Richard slouched in his chair, long legs stretched out in front of him, hands folded across his stomach, head back, mouth open, snoring impressively. Emily slept the way she did everything else- as prim and properly as possible. Ankles crossed and tucked to one side, shoulders squared, head gently inclined to rest against the wall behind her- stern expression of disapproval firmly in place.
Lorelai shifted in her own chair, then with a sigh of exasperation, gave up. She'd tried at least eighty-six different positions, but the plastic chair mocked every attempt at comfort and she wasn't likely to find a way to fall asleep now. Not that she could. Every nerve- every tendon- every sinew of her body was stretched to the point of breaking. Her mind was numb and would have happily welcomed sleep, but her body refused to give up its silent, solitary vigil. Solitary, but not lonely. She didn't crave company. Company, human interaction, simple contact, would be too glaringly normal. There was no normal right now. How could there be? People didn't talk, didn't love, didn't sleep, didn't wake, when Luke drifted between life and death behind the forbidding double doors of the ER. Everything stopped. She was sure of it. Traffic paused, lights blinked out, phones ceased to ring. Everything held its breath, waiting. Her eyes might take in the movements of the hospital around her, but her mind didn't register them or process them. They weren't really moving. Everything stopped.
The man in the long white coat who wasn't moving paused at the nurses' desk and handed over a chart, his mouth that wasn't moving asking silent questions of the RNs who had just come on shift. Evidently he didn't receive answers, because he turned to the waiting room of people, all holding their breath. His mouth that wasn't moving formed words that she couldn't hear, but Lorelai knew what he said. She knew because her mouth formed the same word, with or without sound, she couldn't tell. Luke.
"Luke," she said, and everything started again. Reality snapped back into place, and now she could register the buzz of low conversation, the intermittent ring of the desk phone, the shuffle of papers- the footsteps of the approaching doctor.
"Family of Luke Danes?" he repeated, questioning.
Lorelai scrambled to her feet, wincing as her muscles punished her with sadistic glee for remaining in one place for so long. She stumbled a little on feet numb from pins and needles, and the doctor caught her arm to steady her. By now her family had fallen in behind her, looking for all the world like her back-up band or fan club.
"What's happening?" Emily demanded, her tone requiring a succinct answer.
"How's Luke?" Rory asked in a wavering voice.
"He made it through surgery," the doctor answered calmly. Lorelai closed her eyes for a brief second, feeling the warm rush of hope flood through her, surging into her veins, releasing the tension that strung her together, giving her breath again.
"My name is Dr. Kilderry," the man continued in the same practiced, soothing tone he must save for waiting families. "I took care of Luke in the ER."
"Is he going to be all right?" Sookie asked the pressing question. Lorelai couldn't seem to speak.
"He's healthy, he's strong, and I'm hopeful," the doctor answered evasively. "But he suffered some pretty extensive injuries. Left leg's broken in two places- the compound fracture in his tibia came right through the skin. Left arm, left wrist broken. Two of his ribs on the left side are broken, three are cracked. Contusions and abrasions in multiple areas, and there was some internal bleeding we were pretty worried about." The doctor paused in his catalog of injuries.
"Do you know what happened? What caused the accident?" Richard inquired. He wanted to ask about insurance claims, but thought better of it at this particular point in time.
Dr. Kilderry nodded. "One of the highway patrol officers came in a few hours ago to get details for her report," he said. "She talked to one of our interns. Apparently the right front tire of Mr. Danes's vehicle blew out, causing the truck to swerve violently across the highway. Judging by the skid marks on the road, Luke tried to correct the swerve and direct the truck onto the right hand shoulder, but the road was slippery from the rain and the tires couldn't gain traction. He must have overcorrected, jerking the wheel to the left, and the truck flipped over. The driver's side received the brunt of the impact, but the truck rolled a couple of times before ending up in the ditch."
"That's why the injuries are all on the left side," Richard interpreted.
"Precisely. It's probably safe to assume that there was some kind of head trauma, as well; it's very common in accidents as serious as this. The CAT scans we ran didn't show any intercranial swelling, but he needs to be monitored very carefully."
"Can I see him?" Lorelai finally spoke, her voice hoarse.
The doctor looked thoughtful. "They moved him up to ICU not too long ago," he explained. "ICU has a pretty strict policy- they don't allow visitors except for family members unless the patient gives permission. Luke's not exactly in a position to give permission right now."
"What- I- um-" Lorelai paused and shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs of panic that wove through her brain. "He doesn't have any family," she managed to explain shakily, for what felt like the thousandth time that night.
"None of you are related to him?" the doctor clarified. "You don't necessarily have to be blood relations- spouses are permitted." He looked at Lorelai expectantly.
"They're not married," Emily stated matter-of-factly, which Lorelai found singularly unhelpful. She glared at her mother ferociously, feeling energy and clarity and defiance return in a sudden surge with the resumption of a normal Emily-Lorelai interaction.
Dr. Kilderry frowned unhappily. "I wish I could let you in," he began, but Lorelai didn't wait for him to finish his sentence. She marched across the room to the nearest elevator and punched the up arrow- she had no clue where the ICU was, but she was going to find it and she was going to see Luke, policies be damned.
"Lorelai, you can't go up there," Emily appeared at her side, her mildly-shocked tone an odd match for the worried look on her face.
"Oh, yes I can," Lorelai retorted vehemently, drumming her fingers impatiently on her folded arms. The elevator arrived and the doors slid open; Lorelai stepped back to allow its three passengers to exit.
"Ma'am, wait a moment," Dr. Kilderry requested, and Lorelai spun round icily. "That's the last time anyone in this hospital calls me ma'am," she informed him with thinly-veiled impatience. "I'm going to see Luke. I'm his emergency contact- he's already given me permission. And even if he hadn't, I'd still be going to see Luke, because I could care less about your policies and procedures, and I'm not going to wait one nanosecond longer to see if he's okay. Excuse me." And she stepped into the elevator seconds before the door closed.
Dr. Kilderry didn't try to stop her. This sort of behavior in people waiting in the emergency room was achingly common, and he'd seen it thousands of times. ICU's policy was stupid and arbitrary and totally off-the-mark in most cases, and he wasn't willing to spend his valuable time perpetrating it and pointlessly hurting people in the process. He motioned to Rory, Sookie, Emily and Richard, all of whom looked weary and bedraggled but not at all surprised at Lorelai's defiant exit.
"You might as well all go," he sighed as they crowded round him. "They might not let you in, but you can sit in the waiting room up there. It's a bit nicer than this one." He smiled wearily as the elevator descended again to the ground level. "Upholstered chairs, and everything."