Post AYITL. A multi-chapter prequel to my one shot "We'll Always Have Paris".

This is ultimately a literati story, but will feature other characters like Paris, Lorelai, and Luke. As soon as I finished writing my one shot, I had ideas that wanted to be written down for a prequel and promptly started typing them up. It's truly been a while since I've re-watched AYITL, so may diverge slightly from information on the show.

The title is taken from a quote from Cleopatra, because the theme of this story centers on Rory's tendency to be in denial about important things. It happens frequently on the show and I thought that would certainly carry on if we were to see a continuation of AYITL. so, this is my attempt at capturing that as well as satisfying the literati interactions we need. italics will be used for flashbacks. Chapters will be longer after the first two!

Rated M for later chapters.

Trigger warning: mentions of pregnancy, miscarriage and of course grief

hope you enjoy! xoxo

disclaimer: i own nothing

It has only been one week since she told her mother. Just seven days that, aside from her new pregnancy consuming all thought, were normal. Normal in the sense of banal, anyway. Nothing about her life had felt normal for a long time. She spent the week at the Crap Shack, her time filled with writing when she felt inspired, taking care of Paul Anka while Luke and her mom were on their honeymoon, avoiding the town so they didn't see her not drinking coffee, and of course lots of take-out, movies, and reading.

But this night, like a demented twist in a Stephen King novel, she finds herself in a hospital bed waiting for the bleeding to stop. It's been going on for hours, and she just wants to go home already and mourn alone in the peaceful comfort of her childhood bedroom before the newlyweds return from their honeymoon tomorrow. She had to beg Paris not to come when she called her for help after a morning of painful cramping. And she knows that she had no chance of winning that fight if Paris had been closer to her than California.

"Gilmore, I'm about to speak at a conference. I start at 9am sharp so let's make this snappy."

Rory looks at the stove in the kitchen, she is sitting at the table with a heating pad across her stomach, she responds "But it's almost noon?"

"I'm on the other side of the country, obviously. You're a little slow today Gilmore. Did you only have two cups of coffee instead of four? I would advise against that from now on."

Rory rolls her eyes, "Sorry Paris. I just have a quick question for you."

"You can put me in your book as long as you leave out the whole Harvard thing. I'm sure you can agree I have suffered enough from that debacle."

"Suffered? You're one of the most successful surrogate doctors in the country. Anyway, that's not my question."

"Fine. But I stand by it."

Rory sighs, "Understood. So, hypothetically speaking, if I have a friend who is two months pregnant and has been experiencing painful cramping, what should I tell her to do?"

The surrounding noise from the other end of the call slows, and she hears a door open and shut. It's quiet and suddenly Paris says, "You need to go to the hospital."

"The hospital?" Rory squeaks in surprise, "You think it's that serious?"

"How long has the cramping been going on? Are you bleeding or spotting? Have you ever felt this type of cramping before? Is it period level pain or worse?"

"Um…it's been a few hours. And no, my friend is not bleeding or spotting. What's that?" Rory muffles the phone against her shirt, "Oh, she said it is similar to period pain but stronger."

She can hear Paris rolling her eyes, "Rory, you gave yourself away by doubling up on your hypothetical. Why would you need to ask a fake question about a friend? Go to the hospital. Where are you?"

"But why the hospital? I'm not bleeding. I was expecting you to give me some stretches and recipes, or tell me that it's just stress or something."

"Where are you? If you are in Stars Hollow, absolutely do not go to your local hospital. I wouldn't be surprised if it's completely run by physicians assistants because nobody in your little hamlet has any aspirations. You need to get to Yale New Haven or Hartford Hospital. You have access to a car right? If not, I'm sure one of your neighborhood disciples would be happy to take you. I assume your mother is still on her honeymoon. I'll catch the next flight to Connecticut, I don't want you in just anyone's hands."

"Paris, please. What are you saying? What do you think is happening?"

"Rory," Paris's voice is uncharacteristically soft, "Please tell me you realize that you are about to have a miscarriage? Did your doctor not discuss that possibility and its symptoms with you? I assume you went to a doctor to confirm pregnancy in the first place. We don't need to get into why you didn't just come to me right now. We can talk about that at the hospital later."

Great, something to look forward to, Rory thinks.

"I guess I just didn't think it was going to happen to me," Rory admits with a bit of shame, "But, please don't come to Connecticut, Paris. I will get myself to Yale New Haven Hospital, I promise. They'll take care of me."

"You're kidding right? I'm a doctor, I'm not going to leave my best friend to have a traumatic experience in a hospital without me."

"We don't know for sure if that's what is happening. Don't fly out here Paris. Please. I can handle whatever this is."

"Whatever this is? Rory, you're about to lose -"

"Paris! Please. Please let it happen before you even suggest it. And please, for once, as my friend, respect my wishes. I know you mean well, you're a great friend and I really appreciate you taking the time to help me with this. But I can do this myself. You're five minutes late for your speech. Go show them how amazing you are, or rip them a new one, whatever you're there for."

Paris sighs, "Fine. But I will be calling you every time I have a break, and if you don't answer for any reason at all, I'm getting on a plane."

"Okay Paris. That's fair. I'm going to go now," she pauses, then asks almost in a whisper, "I can drive myself right? I have time before this gets bad?"

"Yes, you should have some time, Rory. No need to let your nosy townsfolk in on your personal life."

For the first time during their phone call, Rory's mouth twitches into an almost smile, "Thank you Paris."

Paris hangs up with a stern, "You better answer when I call Gilmore."

She wants to be alone, she can handle this by herself. Her mother gave birth alone and she raised her alone. Now, Rory is not going to be a single mother, and she is not going to be in a position to raise a child by herself. The least she can do is sit in a hospital and lose that purpose all by herself, no support at her side (besides doctors and nurses - that seem to be checking on her more frequently than necessary. No doubt a result of an intimidating phone call from one Paris Geller).

She was waiting to hit the end of her first trimester before telling other people, and right now she holds on to that fact as a small ray of sunlight in the depths of her suffering. Lorelai was the only person she told her news to directly. It was passed on to Luke from her, and then this morning while not stating it out right, Paris is aware and is indisputably going to demand answers from Rory once an appropriate amount of time has passed (hopefully). So, she finally acknowledges her pregnancy and speaks it out loud to her mother, and within the week it's all over. She searches for some sort of symbolism in that but cannot define anything outside of a general idea of universal punishment.

Maybe it's because of the lack of condemnation from Lorelai when she told her. Maybe the cosmos got together and said hey, if your typically judgmental mother will say nothing, we will! It was a little mystifying how calm and supportive her mom was about it all. Especially given their last, heated, discussion about the father. Then again, Lorelai did get pregnant at sixteen with Emily Gilmore as her mother. Perhaps she decided not to let history repeat itself in a sense.