May 2002

"So I'm guessing your mom talked to you?" He'd finally gotten a chance to pull Rory aside and they were currently strolling the grounds of the Inn away from the crowd of the wedding reception. They'd had dinner last night but that was before. Before he and Lorelai had…reconnected. Before they'd decided to try. Before every dream he'd had for the last seventeen years started to finally come true. They were going to be a family…finally.

"She talks to me all the time, frequently when I'm begging her not to." Some might question if she was serious or not, but his daughter took after her mother way too much for him to not know she was teasing.

"And she told you what we discussed?"

"She mentioned something about it, yes." Yep…exactly like her mom.

"And what do you think about all this?" He hoped she'd be as happy about it as he was; as Lorelai seemed to be. But he knew it would be a big adjustment for her. Plus, he'd let her down before. But this time was different. This time he was ready.

"I don't know. What exactly are your intentions?"

"Excuse me?" The words came out almost as a laugh. She was such a grown up sometimes he couldn't believe it. It amazed him.

"Your intentions; are they honorable?"

He knew she was joking but this wasn't a joke. He needed her to know how serious he was about this. He stopped walking and turned to face her, looking her straight in the eye. "Completely honorable."

"Yeah?" she asked for confirmation, her body visibly buzzing with the energy of trying not to get her hopes up too soon. "Because we have been waiting for this for a really long time and we take disappointment extremely hard. I mean it, property damage is often involved." She wasn't kidding; one time back in high school, Lorelai had slashed the tires on Steve Turlington's new Ford Mustang when he backed out of taking her to the homecoming dance.

"Well, I better follow through on this, huh?"

"I think that's an excellent idea." Her smile was beaming. He'd do anything to see that smile on her face. And now, he was going to be around to see it a lot more.

"Come here, you." He pulled her in for a hug, relishing the moment until it was interrupted by the ringing of his cellphone. "It's probably work," he told her as he broke the embrace to check.

"On a Sunday?"

"Hey lady, I've got a lot of responsibility now, okay?" Things were going to be different now. He wasn't the same lost kid he used to be. He took work seriously now because that's what he needed to do to take care of his family.

"Okay."

"Be right back."

Christopher pulled the ringing cell out of his pocket as he turned and walked away from his daughter, the site of the number flashing on the LCD screen immediately wiping away the elation he'd been basking in all day. It wasn't work.

He knew Sherry was coming home today, but he hadn't spoken to her since she left five days ago. The plan had been to take the time apart to think about what they wanted and have a serious conversation when she got back. He hadn't expected that conversation to be over the phone. Maybe she was just calling to find out where he was. Even still, he couldn't answer her call and just pretend everything was normal. No, nothing was normal anymore; the status quo had finally been broken. And as overjoyed as he was about that, he knew he was going to hurt Sherry. He never wanted to break her heart, but he had to follow his own.

"Hey," he spoke into the receiver, trying to keep his voice light and upbeat despite the clenching dread in his stomach over what was to come.

"Christopher?" Sherry's voice was anything but light and upbeat. She sounded small and doleful, her voice almost cracking with tears. It was an unusual disposition coming from her. Sherry was confident, even, formidable yet upbeat. Sherry never let her emotions show…it was a liability as a businesswoman.

"Hey, what's up? You home?"

She didn't answer right away. Christopher kept walking, making his way along the path by the creek. He remembered winding these paths when he was younger; not nearly as often as she should have. He'd wanted to be here more but he didn't know how when every time he tried, it got harder to leave. He wanted more. More time with them. More moments—building forts, feeding the ducks, celebrating holidays. He wanted to be wanted. But every time he suggested it to Lorelai, they just wound up in a fight. He didn't want to fight, especially not in front of Rory. But he didn't know how to pretend he was okay with the way things were. And eventually he'd stopped trying.

When his senior year was over and they handed him his diploma, he'd walked these paths one more time, his bags already packed and loaded onto his Yamaha. He'd give it one last shot…he would trade in his bike for a car and they could come with him. They'd travel the country; not the way their parents did—their way. They'd see everything, meet real people, go to music festivals and camp out under the stars. He had some money, and when that ran out, they'd take odd jobs to make ends meet.

But she'd said no. And he'd walked away. It was a choice he'd never forgiven himself for. Walking away from Lorelai was one thing, but walking away from Rory? His daughter deserved better. She deserved a father who would be there to take care of her. To protect her. To hurt anyone and anything that tried to hurt her. And now, he was finally going to have a chance to give it to her; to be a real dad, a real presence in her life. He'd never been happier than he had been spending these past few weeks with them.

"I'm home," Sherry's shaky voice interrupted his reverie.

"I'm at a wedding. I'll be back later tonight…we'll talk?" She deserved to hear this in person, even if it wasn't exactly going to come as a shock to her.

"Christopher…" her voice was pleading and an unsettled feeling curled in his stomach.

"I should be home by nine."

"I need you to come home now." The eddy in his abdomen grew. What could she possibly have to say that couldn't wait until tonight? Was she hurt? Was there a work problem—something had gone wrong with the meeting? He couldn't break up with her right after something terrible had just happened. But he couldn't not break up with her. He'd promised Lorelai. He'd promised Rory. He thought of that smile she'd had when he hugged her. He couldn't risk doing anything to wipe that smile off her face. All he wanted was to protect her, and instead, he kept being the one who hurt her most of all.

"The ceremony is just about to start; I don't want to be rude…"

"Christopher…"

"I'll be home tonight," he repeated. If he could just put it off just a little, maybe whatever it was that was bothering her would work itself out.

"Christopher, I'm pregnant." A twig cracked under his foot as he stopped walking mid stride. Birds chirped melodically. There was the faint sound of music from the wedding but he could barely hear it over the roaring in his ears. Was that his heart beating or the babbling of the brook? "I was late and at first I thought maybe it was the stress…I mean, you know how important this meeting was. But some other things seemed off too and I just had this feeling. So, when I got back to Boston and went to the pharmacy and got a test and I took it. I had almost convinced myself I was just being paranoid; that it couldn't be...that. I'd just take the test and see it was negative and then I could stop worrying. I mean, the timing is all wrong, you know? I really can't afford to be thinking about maternity leave when I'm up for that promotion. And you and I…" she finally trailed off.

"You and I…" he repeated, his own voice sounding robotic in his ears which were still pounding with the rhythmic rushing of his own blood.

"I mean, I know things have been rough and we weren't sure what we wanted to do about us and if you don't want to do this…"

"I'm coming home."

"You're coming home?

"I'm on my way."

"Are you sure? Because…"

"I'll be there in a few hours." He hadn't answered her question. Was he sure? Not in the slightest. He immediately thought of Rory. Of the grown-up way she'd questioned his intentions. Of the way she'd teased him just like Lorelai did. Of the way she looked so much like her mother. Not a little mini version, but a full-grown Lorelai. She was all grown up.

Sixteen years ago, he'd stood here, at this very inn and he'd made a decision. The relationship he had with the mother of his child wasn't working and instead of focusing on the needs of his daughter, he just took off. He disappeared. He missed it all and it was his own fault. He regretted that choice every day. And now…now he finally had a chance to make it right. But doing so meant repeating all those same mistakes with this new kid. He wanted, more than anything to stay here with Rory and Lorelai. He wanted more than anything to go back in time sixty seconds and not answer that phone; to be back in that place and time when everything was finally working out the way he wanted it to. But he couldn't. There was no going back. The past was the past. He couldn't change that.

Rory didn't need a father. Not the kind that was there every day helping to raise her. Not anymore; she was all raised up already. He couldn't undo the mistakes he'd made. All he could do now, was try not to repeat them.

December 2005

Her eyelids were heavy, her body slow as the torpor fought to overtake her. She hadn't slept in over 36 hours. She'd been in labor for almost a full day. And then, when it was finally over, there was still more to do. There would always be more to do now; she was a mother.

As soon as the nurses had finished cleaning Samuel and checking his Apgar score, they'd placed him on her stomach. The skin-to-skin contact was important, she was told. Plus, they wanted him to breastfeed within the first hour. He'd been stubborn about it, steadfastly refusing to go anywhere near her breast. As the time ticked on and that magic 60-minute mark approached, Rory had nearly started to hyperventilate; it was her very first task as a mother and already she was failing. In the end, it took him 73 minutes to latch on, and when he did, it had hurt like a bitch. Plus, Rory worried she wouldn't have enough milk—or colostrum, technically, although colostrum was really just a type of super milk, right?—since she'd been told some of the medications for her preeclampsia could suppress milk production.

Logan had been amazing through it all though, despite the fact that her crazy mood swings had caused her to snap at him more than once. He'd somehow managed to calm her down every time she started to spiral. And since that first breastfeeding attempt, Samuel had fed two more times, each one feeling less and less awkward and painful to Rory, and now, he finally was asleep.

Logan had taken the opportunity to gently scoop Samuel up from her lap. He'd already held him a little, but he hadn't wanted to separate him from Rory for too long until he'd fed. Now though, now Logan looked like he never wanted to let the little boy go.

"I can't believe he's really here," she whispered, her voice shaky from a combination of exhaustion and emotion. "He's so tiny."

Logan glanced up, apparently just realizing she was still awake. "Shh, go to sleep," he encouraged her. She shook her head lethargically in response. She just couldn't bring herself to let her eyes close when all she wanted was to stay staring at the two of them forever. The way Logan looked at their son filled her heart with an emotion she'd never experienced before.

That look, she was sure, would have filled her with abundant joy no matter the circumstances. But it also offered her a sense of reassurance she so desperately needed, considering the fact that no matter how hard she scrutinized the face of their newborn infant, she could not make out a single trait that looked like either Logan or Dean. His entire head was shaped like he came from the planet Remulack, his cheeks were swollen and his nose was smushed, his eyes were a pale blue, and there wasn't a single strand of hair on his shiny, bald skull. He was perfect, of course. But the fact that Logan too, seemed to find him perfect despite the fact that he didn't have so much as a single patrilineal derived attribute…

"Thank you."

He glanced up yet again, this time with a look of confusion. "For what?"

How could she possibly put to words what that look meant to her? She could barely find the words 'thank' and 'you.' Hell, she was so tired that words were starting to lose all meaning. "For loving him," she somehow managed to get out. She hoped it was enough.

"Hey," he bent forward, being careful to keep Samuel safe and steady in his arms as he brushed a frizzy strand of hair off her forehead. "You never have to thank me for that."

"But…"

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "No 'buts.' I meant what I said; it doesn't matter to me. That hasn't changed and it's not going to."

"I know," she nodded. And she did. A part of her had always known. But there was a difference between knowing it and seeing it with her own two eyes.

He pressed his lips to her forehead before leaning back in his chair. "Get some rest. I've got him."

Her lids had already given in and finally fallen shut. His words were the last thing she heard as slumber engulfed her.

The first thing she noticed as consciousness descended back upon her, was that her throat was dry…followed by the all-encompassing body aches. Still, despite the physical discomfort, she was overwhelmed by a sense of contentedness she hadn't felt in ages. She had a beautiful, healthy baby boy. She had Logan. She'd even made up with her mother. She felt safe…protected…loved—the way she hoped Samuel would grow up feeling.

She pried her partially refreshed eyes open. Lorelai was sitting where Logan had been when she'd fallen asleep. Samuel was awake as Lorelai bounced him gently in her arms. "Morning sleepy head," her mother sing-songed in baby voice, directing the words to Samuel even though they were meant for her.

"Where's Logan?" Rory asked, her voice hoarse from the lack of saliva.

Lorelai didn't look up from her grandson as she answered in a bright, cheery tone. "We kicked Daddy out, didn't we? Yes we did."

Rory's first instinct was panic. Kicked him out? Where? Why? She thought Lorelai had finally come around…was finally on their side. How could she do this?

"Relax," her mother replied in her normal voice, finally looking up at her. "His sister showed up. Obviously you weren't ready for visitors so I sent them to the cafeteria to get something to eat."

"Oh." Her heartrate settled back to normal. Of course her mother hadn't really kicked Logan out. She'd been the one insisting on calling him sooner rather than later when she went into labor. She'd willingly stood down when it came time to go to the delivery room. She'd even just referred to him as Daddy despite the fact that she now knew he might not be. She had come around, Rory truly believed that.

"Honor seemed affronted by the mere suggestion of hospital food…which, to be fair, is disgusting, I'll grant her bougie ass that. But Logan refused to go any farther then two floors down, so I hope cold fries and soggy ham sandwiches are a delicacy in some culture somewhere."

Rory pushed herself up to a sitting position which was easier said than done considering her bottom half was still weak from the epidural. She reached out her arms for Samuel.

"Hey!" Lorelai protested. "This is grandma bonding time…although we really need to come up with a title more befitting to me than Grandma. I'm too young to be a grandma. I could be GlamMa like Goldie Hawn. Or…ooh, Queenie since I'm the reigning Lorelai…"

Rory ignored her mother's ramblings. She hadn't even figured out Samuel's middle name yet, Lorelai's grandma name could wait. "He needs to be fed." She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, but she imagined it had to be at least an hour, and she was told that some newborn babies needed to breastfeed as often as every hour.

Lorelai looked back at the baby cooing in her arms. "He doesn't seem hungry yet." Sure, he looked settled and content but how could Rory be sure? Maybe he wasn't a crier. Maybe he wasn't a fussy baby. Maybe he didn't know how to communicate that he was hungry, or maybe Rory didn't know how to tell. She'd only been a mother for a few hours, and she'd never spent much time around kids before. How was she supposed to know? Maybe some mothers knew on instinct but what if she didn't have that instinct? What if she was a terrible mother… "Hey, you okay over there?"

"No." Rory shook her head vigorously, tears starting to pool in her eyes. "No, I'm a terrible mother."

"Okay, that escalated fast."

"I don't know how to tell if my baby is hungry. I don't know his middle name. I don't even…" the words croaked off as she threw her hand over her mouth.

Lorelai tilted her head, examining Rory with a questioning look. "You don't even what?"

"I don't even know who his father is," she breathed the words out, full of shame.

"Yes, you do." Lorelai assured her. "He's the guy who had to be dragged away from this room kicking and screaming. The one who put up with your insane mother. The one who chose you…who chose Samuel."

Rory sniffled, wiping away a tear. "That's not…" she shook her head. "Logan is his Dad. I'm not questioning that. But I mean…what if…"

"What if what?"

"I don't know…" She didn't know how to explain this all-encompassing fear that was suddenly weighing on her, wiping away every memory of that moment of contentment she'd woken up to. She thought the mood swings were supposed to be over now that she wasn't pregnant anymore. "What if he needs a kidney one day? What if he grows up super tall with Dean's nose and he starts to ask questions? What if Logan's family starts asking questions? What if Dean suddenly decides his marriage is over again and he comes looking for a backup family?"

"Then you'll deal with it. You and Logan."

"I need to protect him."

"There's a limit to what you can protect him from. At some point you need to stop trying to control every possible thing that could cause him pain and just find a way to support him through it."

Rory wiped at her tears again, sniffling back her sobs into a weak smile. "Speaking from experience?"

Lorelai stood up, settling Samuel into Rory's lap. "Learn from my mistakes."

Rory pulled her robe open and brought Samuel up to her nipple to feed. He took a couple tries to latch before starting a steady suckling motion. Rory felt a tingling as the milk started to flow. He was so tiny and wrinkly and absolutely perfect; Rory could barely take her eyes off of him. She knew her mother was right but also, she couldn't fight the desire to want to shield him from every hurt that could ever come his way. To want to fight every battle for him and slay every demon. She suddenly understood her mother in a way she couldn't have even imagined a day ago.

"Look, I, uh…" Lorelai started once Samuel was deeply engrossed in his meal. Rory pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and turned back to her mother who was now pacing beside the bed. "I'm sorry."

"I know."

"It's just, with you going into labor, I never really got to say…"

"I forgive you," Rory cut her off.

"But…"

"Mom…"

"Yeah?"

"I forgive you," she repeated. "We both made some really big mistakes this year."

"Yeah, but I'm the Mom."

Rory glanced back down at the baby currently latched on to her for dear life. She couldn't fathom how it would feel to wake up one day and have no idea where he was. How would she react? How hard would she try to hold on once she'd found him again? "We're both Moms now." It didn't mean that Lorelai hadn't crossed the line. Understanding why her mom had behaved the way she did didn't make it okay. But Lorelai was here now, atoning for her mistakes and showing that she'd learned from them. She was accepting Logan wholeheartedly, was making plans to help them get settled in Boston, she was accepting Rory where she was at despite the slew of unforgivable mistakes she'd made herself. The past was the past. What mattered now, was that they chose not to repeat it.

AN: Okay, who's mad at me for making little Samuel be born bald. I know, I know. And only 2 chapters and an epilogue to go. Will we ever find out?