Plans and Promises
"You know you really shouldn't sleep like that."
Lorelai started awake again at the sound of Emily's voice, wincing as she snapped her head up from the hospital bed and her neck twinged uncomfortably.
"What?" she asked groggily, absently stretching and rubbing the back of her neck.
"You shouldn't sleep like that," Emily repeated matter-of-factly. "You'll hurt your neck."
Lorelai dropped her hand immediately, automatically programmed to willfully contradict whatever came out of her mother's mouth. "I'm fine," she countered defensively.
Emily just nodded, willing to let it pass. She paused awkwardly. "How is he?" she gestured at Luke.
Lorelai shrugged helplessly, drawing her lips inward. "I don't know," she admitted unhappily. "The same, I think. All those...thingys... are still flashing and beeping, which I guess is a good sign." She pointed off-handedly at the blood pressure and heart monitor machines, filled with a sinking feeling at the realization that there was still no change that she could measure. She sighed deeply and tightened her grip on Luke's hand.
Emily sat quietly and patiently across the bed from her, her expression unreadable.
"Thank you," Lorelai said impulsively, breaking the silence. "For coming. And… for staying."
Emily nodded again to acknowledge her gratitude. "It's hard to do this alone," she said simply. "I know you can, but you don't have to."
Lorelai smiled, genuinely. "Like mother, like daughter," she commented, not quite sure what she meant by it.
Emily smiled back, but didn't look at her. "I was glad to have you there," she said formally. "When Richard was…well…you know."
"I know," Lorelai said quietly. She cleared her throat and looked around the room, trying not to fidget. "It's so hard to just…sit here, not do anything."
"What would you do without him?" Emily asked dispassionately.
Lorelai shot her a puzzled glance, then with astonishment realized her mother wasn't just thinking out loud; it was an actual question. "What- are you serious?"
"It was the first thing I thought of when Richard was lying in that bed," Emily pointed her chin at Luke. "What to do, how to cope, arrangements that needed to be made, just in case."
Lorelai could barely fathom how to react. "Mom, I don't-"
"I stopped myself right away," Emily continued. "I mean, what sort of person stands there coldly and thinks about wills and funerals before someone even dies? It scared me to think that I was that sort of person. But I like being organized. I like plans. And this just ruins the plan, doesn't it?"
"Forget the plan, Mom," Lorelai exclaimed in shocked disbelief. "You just- you have to deal with stuff as it happens! You can't worry about what might happen. I'm not going to make another plan for my life without Luke, because I'm praying with all my heart that I won't need one!"
"But do you know what you'd do?" Emily asked with strange curiosity. "Would you be strong enough? What would happen? Where would you go? It doesn't hurt to think about it."
"Yes, it does," Lorelai said firmly, almost overwhelmed at how sad she felt that Emily's heart and mind operated so analytically. "I'm not like you," she tried to explain, wondering if she'd finally discovered that one important difference that separated the two of them. "I don't like plans. I don't want to know what's going to happen next week, or in ten years. I just want to make the most of right now, to live the moment that's never going to come again. The only option I can bear to think about right now is that Luke will wake up, and everything will be okay again. I can't- I can't deal with anything else."
"You get hurt that way," Emily pointed out. "If you plan for all possibilities, you can prepare yourself."
"No," Lorelai shook her head vehemently. "No. I can't think like that. I can't do that. I have to believe that everything will work out, I have to deny the inevitable for as long as possible, just in case it isn't inevitable, just in case it changes. That's the way I am." She sighed in defeat. "But you've never understood that, have you?"
"I want to save you from being hurt!" Emily defended herself. "If I can protect you by planning ahead, then that's what I'll do."
"It hurts more to plan, Mom," Lorelai explained wearily, too tired and numb to argue. "It would be like I'm giving up on him, and I would never forgive myself for that."
Emily shook her head disapprovingly. "So we'll just have to hope that he wakes up, then," she said without much conviction.
"That's the game plan so far," Lorelai said pointedly. She turned her gaze on Luke's still form. "If ever there was a time to prove me right in front of my mother, now's the time to do it, bub," she told him dryly.
Emily smiled wistfully at her daughter's persevering optimism. Emily had learned hard lessons in her life, painful ones, and she wished she could pass on her wisdom to her daughter and shield her from experiencing it herself. But Lorelai was never one to learn from other people's mistakes. She had to go out there full force and try everything herself, no matter what the consequences, no matter what the risks. Emily wanted to allow herself to hope that Lorelai would always be able to have faith, would always be able to deny the inevitable until the very last second. But that was like closing her eyes and jumping off a ledge, with no plan on how she was going to get to the bottom. She needed a plan. So she planned for the inevitable. She planned that Lorelai would be hurt, and she planned how to protect her from it.
Lorelai shuffled uncomfortably in the silence. "I wonder what time it is," she said, in a half-hearted attempt to change the subject.
"Close to five, I should think," Emily replied. "In the morning."
Lorelai made an awful face. "I've been trying to forget that there was such a time," she grumbled.
"Here." Emily reached under her chair and produced a Styrofoam cup. "We went to the cafeteria a little while ago. Rory said you'd need this."
"Coffee!" Lorelai accepted the cup gratefully, careful not to spill it as she reached across the bed.
"It's probably cold by now," Emily apologized.
Lorelai had already drunk half the cup by the time Emily finished her sentence. "Wow, that is seriously disgusting," she commented cheerily, before taking another sip.
"Don't drink it, then," Emily rolled her eyes.
"Coffee is coffee, Mom," Lorelai grinned, swallowing another cold mouthful. "Even if they try to disguise it as vinegar mixed with slightly congealed mud."
"Lorey…" his voice was raspy and unused, but suddenly and unexpectedly there, and the coffee cup dropped from Lorelai's hand.
"Luke!" she gasped, oddly feeling the same tearing pain again as when she'd stood in the rain at the accident site. "Luke…" the coffee cup and her mother were completely forgotten, and she pulled his hand close to her heart. Tears were forming in her eyes, to her own bemusement, but she couldn't tell if they were tears of happiness, relief, or release. His eyes fluttered open for a second, then closed. Her heart stopped until he opened them again and focused on her face.
"Lorey," he murmured again.
"Hey," she smiled, blinking quickly to avoid crying.
Emily scooted her chair back abruptly. "I'll go tell the others," she announced, and left the room.
"Where am I?" Luke grunted, wincing in pain as he tried to move.
"Lie still," Lorelai instructed gently, kissing the fingers of his hand she still held. "You were in an accident, so now you're in the hospital."
"I hate hospitals," he told her irritably and nonsensically.
"I know, sweetie. But you smashed yourself up pretty bad, so you need to be here."
"What happened?" he wanted to know, frowning as he tried to remember.
She smoothed his hair off his face. "You crashed your truck on the way home from Hartford," she explained. "Something about a blown-out front tire and skidding, I wasn't really paying attention to the doctor by that point."
"Ah," he said, his recollection coming back. "So how's George?" he tried to smile, to reassure her.
"About as bad as you," she said jokingly. He would probably have to write the truck off, but he didn't need to hear that right now.
"How bad am I?" he wondered, moving his arms and legs experimentally and grimacing at certain attempts at movement.
She was silent, looking down at their entwined hands, biting her lip.
"Lorelai?" he asked, suddenly worried.
She looked back up, tears pooling in her eyes. "You're all right now," she said, swallowing hard. "But-" her voice broke and she closed her eyes, causing the tears to spill over and trickle down her face. "But I thought you were going to die," she gulped, pressing her hand to her mouth and trying to stop her shoulders from shaking. "Oh, God, Luke, I thought you were going to die!" She leaned over him, wrapping her arms tightly around him, awkwardly avoiding all the wires and casts, and buried her face against his neck. He reached around with his good arm and held her, twisting a little so he could kiss the top of her head.
"I'm not going to die," he whispered firmly against her hair. He blinked as he realized something. "At least I don't think so- what's my prognosis?"
She laughed a little and pulled back, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "You're going to be okay," she declared, straightening his sheets and pulling his blanket higher. "You've got lots of broken bones, but they'll heal, and the doctors were worried about your brain, but you've got such a thick head I'm sure there's nothing wrong there. You're going to be okay," she repeated, smiling.
"Good," he answered, satisfied.
"Good," she echoed, feeling all her worry melt away. "Hey, Luke?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
"I know," he smiled tiredly but contentedly, reaching up to touch her face.
"You do?"
"Yeah. But you can never say it enough."
She kissed him, slowly and gently. "I love you," she said again. He stared at her in wonder, a warm glow flickering in his eyes. "I love you too," he said gruffly.
"Well, everyone does," she grinned, teasingly.
"Lorelai…" he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.
"Except maybe the ER nurse downstairs…" she mused thoughtfully. "We didn't exactly hit it off, I'm not sure she'll be sending me a Christmas card this year, but everyone else, I'm pretty sure-"
She broke off when he kissed her again. "I love you more than everyone else," he said firmly. "And I will show you, as soon as I can get out of this bed."
"Promises, promises," she grinned.
...So I was watching season 5, Wedding Bell Blues, and I got to the part when Luke knocks on the back door to borrow the extension cord. "Who is it?" "It's me." "Me who?" Then a frustrated Luke says, "Lorey, can you just open the door." And I thought, aww, how sweet that nickname is, how affectionate and intimate. Then I re-watched it and realized he probably said Rory, which sounds a lot like Lorey (go figure.) But I liked that vulnerable and loving side of Luke so I decided to keep my original interpretation for this story.
Thanks as well for the great feedback for the last chapter; I wasn't intending to throw Jess in there, but the Muse was very insistent. :-D