2. Admission

Thankfully, the ride in the ambulance was quick and uneventful. Rory didn't wake up but she didn't crash either, her vitals considerably pretty stable. A good sign according to the paramedic riding with them in the back. Plus, she was young and healthy which were also good conditions for her to survive this.

Sure, Logan was relieved to hear this, but it hardly lessened the fear and worry he felt. She had been shot in the stomach. Clearly, he didn't have to be a genius or a medical graduate to know that such a wound wasn't nothing or harmless. That anyone could die of such a serious wound, no matter how strong or healthy, for sure.

His Ace wasn't going to die though. She simply couldn't.

Arriving at the ER entrance of the hospital, he made sure that he was out of the way as requested by the paramedics so they could unload Rory and get her into the exam room as quickly as possible. He hurried after them, trying to understand what the paramedics were telling the hospital staff, without much success. Too many abbreviations, too much medical jargon.

She was rushed into a room but when he tried to follow in, he was stopped by someone in scrubs, telling him that he was not allowed to be in there and to leave them to work on her, that they would do what they could. He tried to protest, to tell them about his promise, but he was already standing alone, left behind.

Forlorn, he stayed where he was, his eyes fixed on the door through where they had whisked away his Ace, unsure what to do now. He wanted to be in there, even though he knew that he couldn't do anything in there to help her. Most likely, he would only be in the way and that was unacceptable.

"Sir?"

It was only after the nurse tried to get his attention by touching him briefly on his arm that he noticed her, looking at her with a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

She had to be used to such reactions though as she offered a genuine smile, holding up a clipboard. "If I may ask you some questions on the patient while the doctors work on her?"

Questions. Right. That he could do. He nodded, not trusting his voice yet, his eyes automatically drawn back to the door of the exam room.

"Great. Why don't we go to the waiting room where it's more quiet?" the nurse suggested, still oh so awfully gentle.

He shook his head. "I can't..."

"Sir. Believe me, they are doing what they can in there. You staying here will not change a thing but you may be in the way if she or anyone else in the exam rooms need to be relocated," the nurse firmly told him.

He gave her a look that probably showed what he felt at the moment: utter despair and a sense of being lost. "I promised her I'd stay with her. Won't leave her alone."

"And you aren't. You're always with her in your thoughts and I'm sure she feels that. Now, please," she once again asked, standing back, pointing him away from the exam room.

Very hesitantly, he at last followed her request, dejectedly trailing after her.

This could not be happening. It just couldn't. His eyes caught sight of his hands, smeared with her blood. It seemed impossible, but it really had happened. His Ace, his beautiful, breathtaking Ace had been shot and was now fighting for her life. And he could not do anything but wait here helplessly for someone to come tell him if his life was going to end today or not. Because one thing he knew with absolute certainty, if she was going to die, he was not going to stay behind all alone. It was hard enough to live being apart from his Ace but to live in a world without her at all… No, no way. He hoped she knew that in there, knew that she was not just fighting for her own life.

"I'm going to ask just a few questions we need to know ASAP and then I'll let you go to clean yourself up, okay?" the nurse asked, glancing at the blood on his hands and clothes.

Right. Give them all the information they needed. Really the only thing he could still do to help. Again, he merely nodded.

Readying her pen, she went on with the first question. "What's the patient's name?"

He took a deep breath. That was an easy one. "Lorelai Leigh Gilmore." He paused. "In as much as everyone calls her Rory, she might respond better to Rory than Lorelai."

The nurse made a note, nodding. "Good. How old is she?"

"Twenty-three. Turning twenty-four next week." He gulped. If she lived, that was. "On October 3rd."

"Any allergies that you know of?"

"Yeah, she's allergic to oysters," he answered, remembering that time at Martha's Vineyard when he had to bring her to the ER after a bad reaction to the oysters he had prepared for dinner, scaring the hell out of him at that time. Today he knew what it truly meant to be scared out of his mind. "Nothing else that I can think of."

"Any medical conditions we should know of? Diabetes, heart disease, pregnancy… anything like that?"

"No, none that I know of." He doubted that she had developed diabetes or any heart disease or got pregnant since the last time they have seen each other without him hearing about it.

"And you are?"

"Logan Huntzberger. Her fiancé," he lied without hesitation again. "And before you ask, I'm on her emergency contact list so you have to tell me everything."

This time he may not even be lying. After his accident in Costa Rica he had put her on his own emergency list, in fact the first name on the list, and he knew Rory had done the same. He never had bothered to remove her from that list and he'd be surprised if she had changed hers since it was one of those things that anybody would put in the back burner.

"Is she insured?"

He hesitated, unsure. She had health insurance coverage when they had been together and he assumed Hugo provided sufficient health care for his staff but he had no idea if she was still with the same insurance provider as then. "Yeah," he simply said after all. "I don't remember the company though at the moment..."

"That's okay, you can fill in any details later," the nurse told him. "One last question: Is there anyone else we have to notify?"

Oh, God. Of course! "Yeah. Yeah, there's her mother, Lorelai Gilmore. No wait, it's Danes now, she recently remarried," he remembered, thinking back to the invitation Emily had sent him a while back. It hadn't been the first time, nor did it surprise him much. Emily and Richard had always been a big supporter of their relationship and it was just like Emily to try to get him to come to some event where he would most likely meet Rory again, giving them a chance to reunite after all. Obviously, he had never followed the invitation, not ready to face Rory again yet but at the same time it had given him hope that maybe Emily saw something in her granddaughter that convinced her that not there was still a chance for them. Jeez - the Gilmores needed to know as well. "And her grandparents, Richard and Emily Gilmore. Oh, and her father, too, of course, Christopher Hayden." He felt for his cell phone, finding it in his coat pocket. "I have the numbers I think." He hesitated. "Uh, do you want me to call them?"

It would be one more thing he could do for Rory, knowing she would like them to know, be here if possible. Especially Lorelai. On the other hand, what could he say? He could hardly think straight and now he was expected to tell the people who loved her what happened to her?

"If you prefer to," the nurse answered, being very unhelpful.

Then again, if the hospital notified them, they may mention her 'fiancé' being there and if just one of them set things straight he'd be out of the loop for good. No way.

"I'll call them," he decisively nodded.

Making a last note on the hospital forms, the nurse looked back at him. "Good, that's all for now. You can use the bathroom over there to clean yourself up. Someone will come for you as soon as we can to keep you informed on your fiancée's status."

"Thank you." Watching her leave for the exam room, Logan slowly moved to the bathroom after a moment. Once inside, he leaned heavily onto the sink, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He wondered why there were traces of her blood on his face as well. Probably when he had ran his hands over it. He was shocked, though, at how pale he was. The last time his face had lacked this much color had been when he was hospitalized after his accident.

God, if he could only switch places with Rory!

Turning on the water, he started to clean himself. The soap they had was probably especially made for hospitals as the blood washed down surprisingly well. He dabbed the stains off his shirt, but there wasn't much he could do. He would need to trash his shirt but he needed to first find some change of clothes. Looked like he had to make a trip to the gift shop as there was no way he was going to leave for home anytime soon and there was no one he could call to bring him something.

As clean as he was going to get, he reached for his cell phone again. He truly dreaded the calls he had to make, having no idea how Rory's family was going to react not only to the news itself but also to hear it from him of all people. Still, he hardly had a choice, hadn't he?

Going through the contacts listed on his cell phone, he wondered who he should call first. Lorelai of course, but where? The house or the Dragonfly Inn? Thinking of the time difference, he finally pressed the number to Rory's childhood home. It was only the second time he actually called that number, the first time had not been any pleasant at all, after he and Rory had been arrested. And now this time was for even a worse reason. Part of him hoped Lorelai wouldn't answer but after the fourth ring, any chance of that vanished into thin air.

"House of Gilmore and Danes. Who dares to disturb the newlywed's fun time?" the cheerful voice so similar to his Ace's sounded across the country, causing his heart to constrict painfully again.

"Lorelai? It's Logan," he said after perhaps ten seconds of silence, having no idea how to start this conversation.

"Logan?" Lorelai repeated, the surprise evident in her voice. "Rory's not here if..."

"I know," he interrupted her. "That's why I'm calling. I was at the Obama rally in San Francisco today. Something happened. There was an attempt on the senator's life and people got hurt." He swallowed, barely able to get anything past the big, fat rock sitting in his throat right now. "Lorelai? Rory's been one of them. She's been shot."

"What? No!" The cheer in her voice had been replaced by the same shock and fear he was feeling.

"She's in the hospital, the San Francisco General Hospital, still in the ER for now. The doctors are working on her, but they haven't come out to tell me anything yet," Logan said, eager to say everything important right away and be over and done with the phone call.

"You're with her?" she demanded to know. Logan wasn't sure if it was to reassure herself that her daughter wasn't alone in a situation like this or if it was a reprimand. He didn't really care. With or without her consent, he was going to stay and no one was going to tell him otherwise. Only Rory could send him away, either by telling him so or by... He didn't finish that thought.

"Yeah. As I was saying, I was there and..." he broke off, unable to continue. "Rory... She's been shot in the stomach, so it is serious. But the paramedics said she's stable, and because she is young and strong, chances are she will survive." How he hated the vague bullshit they have given him. Why hadn't they just told him exactly the danger she was in, how high or low her chances of making it? "As soon as I know something, I'll call you. I just need your cell phone number, I don't have that one." Shit, something to write on! Frantically, he searched for a pen, knowing that he always kept one in his coat pocket. "I mean, I could call your house or the inn but I assume you're coming here, aren't you?" There it was. Grabbing a paper towel, he was ready to jot down the number at last.

"Of course, I'm coming. I'm taking the next plane to San Francisco," Lorelai answered and he could easily hear that she was fighting for composure, the muffled sobs and suppressed crying a sure indicator for that. And as she rattled off her cell phone number, her voice was getting thicker and thicker.

After repeating it once, he looked into the mirror again, wondering if thousands of miles away, Lorelai was showing the same signs of shock as he was. "If there's a problem with finding a flight, call me. I'll try to have you fly in a private plane."

He may not have access anymore to the Huntzberger planes but Honor had and would surely help them, always having loved Rory as a sister. Or Finn and Colin could help out, if they were in the vicinity of Connecticut. Or some other old friends.

To his surprise, she didn't even utter one word of protest. "Okay. I'll call as soon as I know when I'll be in San Francisco. And you'll call when you hear something about Rory?"

"Absolutely," he promised once again. "What about her father and her grandparents? Should I call them or do you want to do it?" he offered again, though he wasn't sure if he would be able to do two more phone calls to relay the bad news.

For the first time, she hesitated. "I'll call Chris, but maybe if you can call my dad or my mom? I would really appreciate that. And to call me afterwards, so we can coordinate?"

"Okay," he agreed with a mental sigh, grateful that he was going to do this only one more time.

"Thanks. You'll hear from me," Lorelai finished, rather abruptly, before hanging up. He didn't hold it against her. At the end there, she hardly had been able to talk.

Closing his eyes, he tried to fight for composure himself. On one hand, he felt like crying himself, but there were no tears. On the other hand, he felt like throwing up, but then again, there was no bile. He was numb, but at the same time, his mind and insides were in complete havoc, reeling with the possibilities, shaking with fear and burning with the need to do something, anything, than just sitting around here and waiting.

Jeez, what he would do for a shot of scotch right now! Or even better, to have a shot at the bastard who had done this to his Ace. God, he hoped they had caught him and shot him down as he had shot down Rory.

Opening his eyes again, he pushed away and swiftly left the bathroom. He liked the privacy of it but if anyone came with news on Rory it would be hard to find him. Unacceptable. Glancing down the hallway, the door to where they wheeled Rory in was still closed. He wondered if that was a good or bad sign.

He went back into the waiting room, sitting heavily down on a chair, trying to muster up the courage to call Richard. Despite the older man's heart condition, he still thought it was better to talk to him than to Emily.

"Richard Gilmore."

"Richard, it's Logan," he more or less echoed his greeting to Lorelai.

Unlike Lorelai though, Richard was just silent at first. When he talked at last, he surprised Logan quite a lot. "Was Rory hurt in the assassination attempt?"

"You know about it?" Logan asked, perplexed. "Did Lorelai already talk with you?"

"No, we watched the speech live. It's all over the news non-stop. They say the senator was missed but others were hurt," Richard explained in a clipped voice. "With you calling out of the blue I assume Rory is one of them?"

"Yeah," he confirmed quietly.

"How bad?"

"Gunshot wound in the stomach. She's been stable on the way to the hospital but I haven't heard anything new since they wheeled her away from me," Logan reported, truly thankful that he only had to rattle out answers rather than find the words to explain everything again. "I've just talked with Lorelai. She's coming as soon as possible and will also inform Christopher. She would like you to call her as well."

"I will. Which hospital are you in?"

Giving him the name, Logan waited for his next instruction. He didn't have to wait long. "We'll be there as soon as we can. I will try to get in contact with the head of the hospital, see to it that Rory gets the best treatment possible. You stay and keep an eye on her there."

"Yes, Sir."

"Thank you, Logan. Emily and I are very relieved that at least you are with her right now. I know things between you kids hadn't been the best lately..."

"It doesn't matter," Logan told him, shaking his head. It really didn't. Everything had changed since this morning. "I'm here now and I won't go anywhere."

"That's good to hear. I haven't yet given up hope to welcome you to the family for real one of these days," Richard answered and Logan could swear he heard a smile in his voice. "I will tell you a secret about Gilmore women: they are hard to catch, but any struggle to get them onto the hook is worth ten times the effort. When I met Emily, I was already engaged, an engagement that I broke off not long afterwards. And I still had to ask Emily twice before she finally said yes. Now we're married for more than forty years. My mother, too, only said yes after the third time even and she was married for thirty years before my father passed away. And now Lorelai just married Luke who had to beg twice as well and though I still think she could have found a better match, I'm fairly certain her marriage will last 'til the end. Twice is the charm with my girls, Logan. Don't forget that and most of all, don't let a single no deter you from what you really want."

Logan had no words, literally and figuratively, so it was probably good that Richard hung up without any more words said. For a long moment, he stared at the phone, still flabbergasted by the advice that came out of the blue and from Rory's grandfather no the less.

Huh.

Was Richard right? Should he risk it again? Put his heart out there for Rory to either take or crush it? Basically, he had already been halfway ready to actually give it another try, or at least see if he and Rory could mend their relationship as a start and then go from there, even before all this happened.

Now that he might actually lose her for good... He meant it: he wasn't going anywhere, wasn't going to leave anymore. Once she was out of the woods (and there was no questions about that − she just had to be okay), he was going to talk to her. Or perhaps, he was simply going to tell her that from now on, he was back in her life and to get used to it because with or without a ring, he was back for good.

Because with her fighting for her life, which would mean the absolute nothing if she lost the fight, all the reasons for walking away and his insistence on all or nothing were now meaningless and irrelevant. With crystal clarity he knew now that the only important thing was for them to be alive and together. Obviously, he still wanted to actually live with her, have a home together. However, he was beginning to see that no matter where she was, she was his home − not a place or a house or whatever. And naturally, he wanted children, but they were still young. If she wanted to wait, they could certainly wait. Hell, they could even wait eight more years if necessary and they'd still be young enough to have a couple of kids.

That was, if she could still have children. She had been shot in the stomach after all. Could that have any repercussions on her capacity to have children? Did it matter?

No. Not really.

The only thing that mattered was her survival. Everything else was secondary.

And after that... Well, they would see where it would lead them.

Though he couldn't deny that deep down he did hope that Richard was actually right with his little wisdom.

Twice was the charm.

TBC!

(Author's Note: Folks, thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews for the first chapter. I'm very glad you all liked it so much. As promised, here the next chapter. I hope you like it as well - and I'll try to have the next one ready for you by next week. Until then: enjoy!)