The car ride seems relentless to her as they drive along the empty freeway that, although heading towards one of the largest cities in the world, seems set in a barren land. He's quiet again, slumped in his seat. She notices that the icy cold shadow of grief still shrouds him, smothering him in an inability to do much more than breathe and exist. With the impending funeral and possible fight for custody of his nephew, she wonders how he's ever going to get through this. What will he do at night without her there to protect him? To hold him close until he doesn't feel so alone in the world.
The previous night had been nothing more than a methodical sequence of events. They had driven with Jess to dinner, during which only Jess and Lorelai exchanged a few words, both keeping away from the subject of Lorelai's daughter and Jess's ex-girlfriend. Few who had ever known the two would wonder what they could ever find to chat about for over an hour, but the conversation wasn't for them, it was for the man who was sitting next to her feeling his world fall apart. The sound of their chatter was meaningless but made the man that both Lorelai and Jess adore understand how much they would do for him.
After dinner, they drove Jess back to his car and headed to their hotel for one last attempt at sleep before the ride hope. They had both gone into their separate rooms. They had changed into their pajamas, brushed their teeth and climbed into bed. Into the same bed. As if both of them had felt that there was no need to pretend any longer. He needed her, they both knew it. She wasn't sure why they were still paying for two rooms except to keep up the pretense for themselves that they weren't expecting to share a bed each night, unable to sleep without being wrapped in each other's arms. As if they're both clinging to every last notion that what they share at night is only a physical touch, that there's nothing getting through, no emotional involvement, so that they can live with themselves in their solitude during the day.
Even now, on this long drive back to their hometown, she wonders what's going on in his mind. Is he thinking about the nights they've spent together? Is he thinking about his sister that whose body will meet them back in Stars Hollow? Is he thinking about a young boy, wrapped in a blue blanket, holding his hands out towards Luke as he's carried away?
Oh it was heartbreaking. The scene of a man, lost in a world, deserted by his family, let down by the women in his life, holding on to the small innocence of his nephew. It's enough to bring tears to her eyes now, forcing her to quickly brush her hand across her face and then grip the steering wheel tightly. It was in that moment that she had seen the first sign that he was going to get through this terrible tragedy that seemed to follow him throughout his life. It was like Gabriel was the magic that put back the sparkle in his eyes that had disappeared the moment she walked away into the arms of another man.
But then Dawn had come over and reminded both Luke and Lorelai that they had a long trip ahead of them and removed Gabriel from the protecting arms of his uncle. Immediately the poor child had begun screaming, a terrifying rage that Lorelai had never known was contained within the infant. He jerked away from Dawn, balling his little hands into fists, squirming until Dawn had to hold him tight against herself to keep from dropping him. And Luke just stood there, his eyes focused on his nephew, his lips moving but no sound being made. Yet Lorelai knew what he was saying, she knew he was telling Gabriel it was for the best, she knew he was telling the boy that he loves him, she knew he was saying that he'd always be there, even through the worst.
"Pondering the fate of the world?" she finally asks, giving into her desire to know exactly what he's thinking. She glances quickly away from the stretch of highway in front of her over at the man slumped next to her. The index finger of his left hand traces patterns on his seat, the signal for her that he's not going to answer.
How she wishes she knew what to say. Before picking up Jess to go to dinner, he had told her that Liz and TJ had wished for her and Luke to be Gabriel's guardians. No, actually they wanted Luke and Lorelai Danes to be Gabriel's guardians. The man and woman sitting in the jeep are not Luke and Lorelai Danes. There is no Luke and Lorelai Danes. The only time that entity ever existed was in her wildest dreams and apparently in Liz's too.
What's more surprising is that the papers were probably drawn up long after she and Luke separated. Meaning, Liz had believed she and Luke would get back together, that they would get married and be happy together. Oh Liz, sweet, kind, generous, saying things before thinking them through, completely optimistic about the men in her life, Liz. Liz, who had been so excited to learn that she and Luke were engaged, that they were going to be sister-in-laws. Liz had wanted Lorelai to be a guardian of her son Gabriel that Lorelai had never met, much less even knew existed. If she hadn't already been missing Liz, the idea that Liz had thought that much of her, had believed her to be a good person despite what she had done to Luke, would have torn her up inside. Now all she can feel is guilt. She isn't the person Liz had thought she was.
Back by the car, she hadn't said anything in response. They had stood there for a minute in silence until Jess showed up and suggested dinner. Almost twenty-four hours later and she still doesn't know what to think beyond amazement that Liz and TJ had actually come up with this idea. "Luke," she says in a low voice, taking her right hand off the steering wheel just long enough to tug on his sleeve, to force him to listen to her. "Luke."
"Hmmm?" he grunts, in that way he has that makes his grunts sound more sexy than half of Logan's Run. She can almost feel her face flush in response and places the back of her hand on her forehead to check for the beads of sweat that she's sure formed even on this cold winter's day.
Taking her eyes off the road for a split second, she finds him staring at her, in that way that make her wonder if he already knows what she's thinking. "So, about the will…" she says softly, clearing her throat. He knows she's nervous. She's doing that thing where she slowly chews on her lower lip, narrowing her eyes as if concentrating on the road rather than the questions forming in her mind. "Do you want to be Gabriel's guardian?" she finally asks.
"Yes," he answers immediately with a resolve that takes her by surprise. He notices this in the quick widening over her eyes and the quick blinks that follow, the way he knows she's trying to convince him she's not thinking what he knows she's thinking. A fond comfortable feeling fills him, knowing that she's still the woman he always knew as Lorelai.
And he wonders why his response is so shocking to her. That little boy is everything to him. He has Liz's heart. He has his grandmother's demeanor. He has his grandfather's loyalty. He has Luke's name, at least for a middle name. But it's just these facts that bolster the thought that Gabriel belongs with him. Luke had been the first, after TJ and Liz of course, to hold the boy when he was born. He had looked down at Gabriel and had seen the most perfect being he had ever seen in his life. A little angel who had opened his eyes and had loved him instantly. He hadn't known Luke at all, but he had quieted, feeling safe in Luke's arms, as if he knew that was where he belonged.
"Well, I could talk to my parents. They might know of a lawyer," Lorelai suggests, breaking through his thoughts. Her parents? She's going to ask her parents to help him? He's completely thrown by this. She's the woman who cut off her parents without even a second thought when she left at age 17. She's the same woman who might have cut her mother out of her life at age 36 for hurting him and subsequently causing their first breakup and would have, if not for Rory. But yet, just when he's pushed her so completely far away, she's offering to go to her parents to help him out. What wouldn't she do for him anymore?
"Yeah… a lawyer," he finally agrees. Although, glancing at her, he's not sure that she got his response as a committal to her offer. "You know, he did say both you and I…" he mutters softly, not taking his eyes off of her, knowing that at times the flicker in her eyes or the movement of her lips was more telling than what she was actually saying. As he watches her now, her eyelids blink a few times in succession and her lips part slightly, her tongue drifting between to wet her lower lip in that sexy way she had, and then her lips close softly.
She's not going to respond. He knows that in her mind, a non-response is a response, and in a way that's true. Most of the time she'll respond to something with a deliverance of thousands of words not quite cohesively sticking together. So it would seem when no words are used, that's more than saying something.
"I'll call my parents when we get home," she finally says after a moment, as if he had never uttered the second half of the sentence. He hesitates to wonder what the second half of his statement even meant, because he's not really sure why he brought it up again. Does he want her to raise Gabriel with him? Clearly that's a no. She's the reason that he spent six months in pain, having come so close to finally having it all including the woman that he fantasized about for 8 years only to have his dreams thwarted when she committed what he believes was the highest form of treachery possible. Then again she's also the only reason he's making it through this whole thing at all; her and Gabriel.
"Thanks," he says softly, not knowing exactly why he's thanking her now. For calling her parents? For coming on the trip? For just being her? She slowly chews on her bottom lip as if questioning it herself. For no reason at all, just because she's there, just because she's beautiful, just because she's melancholy and he knows she's thinking about him, he reaches over and rubs her arm quickly and then sighs, returning his attentions to the window. "Music would be good," he grunts, putting an end to their conversation, or whatever it might have been.
Reluctantly she flicks her fingers on the CD player, returning once again to Joshua Tree but this time starting with Exit. That's all she wants to do right now. Stop the car, fling open the door and run, just keep on running.
How can he possibly remind her that Liz and TJ had wanted them to raise Gabriel together after they got married? They're not married. That cool feeling on the ring finger of her left hand, the indentation where her engagement ring once sat for a year, is her constant reminder that she never married the only man she ever saw herself committing to.
Even Bono can't soothe her today. The first CD he ever bought after they started dating was U2's greatest hits. She can still remember that first night, cuddled up against him, feeling the warmth of his tanned skin against her cheek as she revealed all the CDs he would have to have. She can still hear his low throaty chuckle, sensual and titillating, when she made one of her quirky jokes. How horrible it is that she can no longer love the things she used to Bono, David Bowie, coffee, blueberry pancakes, all because they remind her of him, they remind her of happier times, when she thought for once she finally had it all.
A few quiet and intense hours later, she finally drives back into the town she's called home for over twenty years. It all seems so familiar. The same ten stores selling porcelain unicorns. Al's Pancake World, which stopped selling pancakes before it even opened. And finally, yes finally, the diner, where she had both met and lost the love of her life.
She pulls into a space in front of the diner and turns off the engine. With a sigh of relief and sadness, she slowly pulls the keys out and slumps back in her chair. "Home sweet home," she mutters with a slightly embittered tone. Her eyes wander to his fidgety hands and up to the back of his head as he stares out the window at the diner. With only a moment's hesitation, she clamps her hand down on both of his, startling him out of his trance. He moves his eyes from their hands, up her arms to match with hers, as if unsure who this person is that stilled his hands. The curiosity that prevails from her eyes makes him question his next move as well.
Her hands increase the pressure on his and he knows she's not leaving until he tells her to. He reaches a few times for the handle on the door before actually grabbing onto it. "So I guess I'll…" he trails off as he looks back at the diner. It's just after dinner time so the diner is in full swing. He puffs up his cheeks slowly letting out the air knowing what's just waiting for him inside.
She sets a hand lightly on his shoulder. "I can distract them if you like," she offers, using that voice that she always uses when she's up to something. He looks back to see her eyes glittering, but the bluish tinge underneath contradicts the magic within. Somehow he wonders if she's happy to have come with him or if this time together has only made her sadder. "Get your bag, Luke. I'll go flash the crowd." She winks and opens her car door as if she's really going to do this.
He grabs her arm quickly. "You don't have to come in," he says gently, receiving an arched eyebrow in response. He wants her to come with him. He needs to know that she's with him, her presence keeping him in control as he walks in the diner where half the town is eating dinner. She just cocks her head. He nods and grabs his bag out of the back seat. She smiles fondly and picks up his suit bag.
As they enter the diner and head right to the back towards the stairs, his eyes stay focused on the floor. To catch someone's gaze at this point would bring questions, some unnecessary, some unwanted. Instead, he just reaches back, blindly catching her wrist, and walks through the curtain up the stairs.
When he unlocks the door, they walk in both slowly gazing around the apartment, as if expecting it to have changed after their absence. Maybe it has. The last moment that they had been together in the room had been filled with grief and sorrow. He had been in the darkness and she had been the light trying to reach through, at least to open his eyes again. Now they are both in shades of grey, together in regret for the loss of his loved ones, for the separation from Gabriel, for the distance that remains between them.
Throwing himself into a chair at the kitchen table, dropping his bag at his feet, he heaves a sigh. She watches him with a critical eye, seeing that the grayish tone of his skin hadn't lessened, that the bags under his eyes have only become more pronouced, that, as he mindlessly unbuttons his flannel, his undershirt no longer clings to him as it once did. Still gorgeous though, just the way JFK Jr. had probably looked the day after Jackie's death. She wonders for a moment if Carolyn had been able to take her eyes off of him even that day, if she had been able to stray from his touch or his deep soulful eyes. Had it been Carolyn then? Or was he still with Daryl Hannah at the time?
During her ponderings, Luke's eyelids have grown heavy. "Oh sorry, Luke, I should let you get some sleep. You haven't been sleeping well lately," she realizes, biting her lower lip apologetically. He raises his eyes to her face, looking at her curiously. He thinks it's ridiculous that she can possibly consider that he's sleeping any worse now than he has since losing her. In reality, it has been her presence that has been the only alleviation during the night. "Can you make it?" she asks, glancing over to the bed. He nods in response.
Pushing his hands down on the edges of the chair, he pushes himself into an unsteady standing position. Yet even with his shaky posture, he still waves her hands away when she reaches to help him over to the bed. And now, again, she's wounded, troubled by the fact that he needs her there, he wants her there but he still won't let her in. She watches, frozen in place, as he stumbles to his bed, just losing his balance and crashing on the bed.
Even now, even after he's pushed her away over and over, she goes to him. Because he's still that little boy who laid his hand on his mother's casket and let loose the one tear he ever allowed himself to shed in front of his father. Because he's still the man who was so afraid that her mother was right and she really did belong with Christopher that he let her go, to keep from telling her how much she meant to him and how he couldn't live if he lost her by any fault but his own.
"Luke," she murmurs, sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging gently on the sleeve of his flannel. "Luke just let me…" Without verbally responding, he allows her to move his arms to help him take off the plaid shirt. "Pants are all you." As his fingers work on unbuttoning and removing his pants, she pulls the blankets down. Her eyes flick quickly down his body, allowing herself just this one moment to take in the heavenly creature stretched out before her.
He nestles his head into the pillow and all she can think is how adorable he looks. Just this sight of him makes her wonder how he ever got through his father's death. Who helped him to bed? Who made him eat? Who watched over him when he tried to draw away from the world and live eternally in his solitude? Though the name Anna flashes through her mind, she shakes her head quickly to return to the image before her.
"Lorelai," he mumbles into his pillow, his hand opening towards her. She pulls the blankets over him, tucking them tight around him like she had done for Rory when she was little. Her hand smoothes his hair back, running her fingers tenderly through the soft strands.
"Shh," she whispers, dropping a kiss onto the side of his head. "Go to sleep. Just rest Darling." He moans quietly, cozying himself in to sleep. She pets his head gently one more time, hoping that the light touch of her fingers will put his mind at ease. Leaning over his ear, she whispers, "I'll always be here."
Placing another kiss on the side of his head, she carefully gets up. Walking to the door, she pauses taking one last look at him. For a moment she wonders if this is the last time she'll see him like this, vulnerable and small, needing her to save him from whatever troubles his mind. She wishes she didn't need to see him like this to be able to be this close to him.