A/N: Thank you as always for your reviews. Double Pneumonia is not common, and can be fatal for a healthy person. There are officially three chapters left, one of which is already written. Please, keep commenting and reviewing as it comes to a close. It really does mean a lot to me. Enjoy.
He never really recovered from the pneumonia. He did, but at the same time coughs coursed through him like the blood in his veins. They were so natural, so ingrained in him that she hardly noticed anymore until he couldn't breathe. At that point, she brought out the home oxygen tank and placed the mask on his face. His hand held hers as he tried to slow his breathing, his eyes tired and his body frail and worn.
She couldn't help but think back to Paris' original comments at the Yale Daily News all those months ago. Had it really been that long ago? She had been right. He was always in so much pain for one reason or another. It was the aches in his bones that kept him up all night, tossing and turning. It was the scratchiness in his voice after a coughing fit. There were days he couldn't even hold Eli, where he couldn't be touched without his skin feeling like it was on fire and tears in his eyes. This wasn't how she imagined him dying with dignity. She imagined peacefulness and knowing he was going without pain. This was anything but.
That was until Michael came by to discuss the options a week after his discharge from the hospital. They'd already discussed it with Max while Logan was lying in the hospital bed with the oxygen mask practically glued to his face. But when Michael came it was different. He talked pain killers and routines, final wishes, what would be expected as Logan's life slowly dwindled down to his final days. He tried to prepare them, but nothing could. Nothing could have prepared her for when he forgot who she was.
"Logan," she called out when she walked into the house. Michael had told her he'd been up and moving around that day. The caregiver was there almost all day every day at that point, making sure Logan was comfortable, making sure he was safe. She felt bad for monopolizing the man's time, but he assured her multiple times that it was all part of the job, that there were other nurses for other patients. Logan was his.
She carried Eli through the house. It was October, her birthday had been the previous week. Eli was almost a year old. It was crazy how fast time flew. It felt like she'd just given birth, like she'd just found out she got pregnant, like they'd just found out Logan was dying. Sitting him in the playpen where he toddled over to the toys, she smiled. She remembered his first steps, so glad Logan was there to see them. A smile was ingrained on his face for days that followed.
"Hey, Rory," Michael said from the doorway to the kitchen, his hand running through his hair. "Umm. I don't know how to tell you this." Her mind started racing. Obviously, if Logan had died or been sick, Michael's reaction would have been a lot different.
"Just spit it out," she told him, arms crossed over her stomach trying to prepare herself for whatever Michael was trying to avoid saying. She could hear Logan moving around in the kitchen, muttering under his breath. But she couldn't understand what he was saying.
"So, Logan woke up today, and can't really remember the past couple years," he told her. She looked at him confused. "And by the last couple of years, I mean he thinks he's getting ready for Fiji." It felt like the wind was knocked out of her. He thought he had just finished his sophomore year at Yale, he thought he was going on his Fiji trip with Finn and Colin. He hadn't met her yet.
"What do I do?" she finally asked, looking up from the ground to meet Michael's eyes. Was she supposed to go along with it? Was she supposed to remind him who she was? It didn't make sense, any of it. She understood why exactly he couldn't remember. The extent of the memory lapse she was a little shaky on, but she understood that the cancer that was destroying his body was also destroying his mind. It was very similar to dementia patients. It wasn't the first time his memory had lapsed, her remembering that there was a day he couldn't remember Finn's phone number - one that hadn't changed in the nearly ten years Finn had had a phone.
"Go about your daily routine. If he asks who you are, answer him honestly. Answer his questions. He may doubt you, he'll probably get stressed out or agitated. I'll be here for a few more hours. I'll keep an eye on Eli while you gauge where Logan's at. It's going to be hard, Rory," the man finally told her. "It's not easy seeing your loved one like this, but you have to remember that he doesn't. He's going to act like the person he was nearly five years ago." She nodded as Michael walked over to the couch, sitting down and pulling out his notebook.
"Can you call Finn and ask him to come over for me?" she asked Michael, turning to him for a moment. He looked up and nodded as he pulled his phone out of his bag. "Thanks." She turned to face the kitchen again, not ready to walk in. But she made herself go anyway, hearing Michael on the phone with Finn.
He was rummaging through the cabinets, still muttering under his breath. She looked at him as she leaned against the doorway. He was definitely dressed as he would have back in college - khaki pants, loafers, his black sweater. It reminded her of when she played dress up as a child, pretending to be a grown up. But this case was reversed. It was as if he was trying to be younger, reminding her of a man having a midlife crisis. She chuckled at the thought, which startled him. He spun around to look at her.
"Do I know you?" he asked her, puzzled look on his face as he leaned against the counter, relaxing slightly.
"I'm Rory, Emily and Richard's granddaughter," she told him. It wasn't a lie, even though she evaded his question a little bit. She didn't know how he'd react to her saying she was his wife. Five years ago, Logan was a playboy who didn't do commitment. A marriage was definitely something that would freak him out.
"I thought Richard and Emily's granddaughter was younger?" he questioned. Taking a deep breath, she tried thinking of an answer that wouldn't lead to the truth.
"I'm younger than you, yes. Finn should be here soon." Trying to change the topic, he continued to look at her.
"Have we met before? You look really familiar, and I would have remembered seeing you at the Gilmore house." She let her arms fall from her chest, taking a few steps towards him, but not getting too close.
"We met at Yale," she finally said. The years most likely didn't add up in his head. When he was a sophomore at Yale, she was a senior at Chilton. They most likely would never have met had he not taken that year off and attempted sailing the world. He just nodded, still looking confused.
"Why does the calendar say it's October 2008? It should be 2002." She nodded, taking a couple more steps towards him and leaning on the counter next to him.
"No, the calendar's right Logan," she finally told him after a few moments of silence between the two. She could feel his eyes studying her, trying to place her. She knew that he still knew who she was to an extent, the gut feeling he always had. The same vibes that told each other when they were together. "Two years ago, you were diagnosed with cancer. You relapsed, and you chose to not do treatments," she continued. "That's why you think it's 2002, because of the cancer. You know me, better than anybody else." He gave her a confused look. "We're married, Logan. We met the year you went back to Yale." He laughed, and she inwardly cringed. She shouldn't have told him, should have just let him believe it was 2002. She should have walked out that door the minute Michael told her he didn't know who she was, should have let it pass. But she loved him too much to even consider letting him deal with this alone.
"Finn put you up to this didn't he?" he finally said after his laughing died down. "Oh, man. He got me good this time." By some miracle, it was at that moment Finn walked in, looking between the two. "I almost believed the cancer story for a minute, man," he told his friend with a smile.
"Logan," Finn said calmly. She put her hand on Finn's arm, closing her eyes. The Australian took a breath. "Let's go play some pool." She nodded, walking into the living room with Michael still sitting on the couch, Finn and Logan on her tail. Rather than going to the stairs, she went towards Eli, picking him up and holding him close. She saw Logan and Finn stop for a moment, not catching what was being said between the two friends. But she met Logan's eye, and he glanced at their son who was now reaching for him yelling 'da-da.'
She saw him swallow, eyes lingering on Eli. Finn didn't say anything, didn't motion for him to move or tell him that it wasn't an elaborate prank. Michael looked between her, Eli, and Logan but still nobody moved. Eli was still reaching for Logan, and with each passing second, her heart broke even more. All Eli wanted was his dad, and his dad didn't even know who he was. It was one thing to forget who she was, it was a whole other story to forget his own child.
She shared a look with Finn, a look of desperation and silent pleading. Almost like a silent prayer for him to magically remember. But the five just stayed like that, the only noise coming from Eli still calling out for Logan. Hesitantly, he stepped over, and Rory allowed him to take Eli who kissed Logan's cheek like he did every time Logan held him.
She walked over to Finn, letting the two stand there with Michael watching intently. "I don't know what to do, Finn," she told him in a hushed whisper in the hall. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know how long this is going to last. When I told him we were married, he thought it was a joke you were pulling before going to Fiji. Yeah, he doesn't even remember you sank his yacht!"
"I'm going to stay the night," he told her after a minute. "You worry about taking care of Eli, take the upstairs bedroom. Me and Logan will stay in the downstairs one, I'll try and talk to him. Maybe I'll be able to jog some of his memory. It's going to be okay, Love." She nodded as he enveloped her in a hug.
"Michael doesn't know how long this is going to last. There's no way to tell for sure, but what if he doesn't remember before…" She choked on the word, not being able to finish her sentence.
"If he doesn't remember tomorrow, call Max. This isn't going to last for the rest of his life." She knew it was an empty promise since they both knew his life wasn't going to last much longer. But Finn had ended up being right. The next day, Logan woke up confused as to why Finn was sleeping in the bed with him and why he wasn't with Rory. He had lost a day, and when he was told of what had happened, he had broken down. Rory had seen him like that several times before, but this was slightly different. He had lost a day during a time where his days were numbered. But Finn had never seen his friend like that before, and Rory had to talk Finn through it when Logan had finally fallen back asleep.
"You stop by once a week, Finn," she told him from her seat at the dining room table. He was seated across from her, both eating bowls of cereal. "There's only been a handful of times he's broken down like that, and it's something you never get used to seeing. You're used to a leader, that's what he was for you guys since Andover. Now, he needs you to be there. He needs you guys to stop by and play pool on the good days. Did you know that until his relapse, he hadn't seen Colin since our wedding. It had been three months since he saw one of his best friends. Finn, he doesn't have much longer, so you guys need to make the most of the time he has left. More than once a week, more than every three months in Colin's case. Do you understand?" He just nodded, staring at the bowl of cereal. She hated that it had come to that, but it had. She had to help him along while his friends flitted in and out of his life. It was time they were there to stay.