Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls, nor have I ever owned them. I also do not own Brad Paisley or Allison Krauss. sniff Ah well.

Thank you to those who have read and reviewed this piece, especially bluedaisy05, orangesherbert7, Taer, Lolabelle26, Ronata, meg, and MarcyH.

A/N: Finally, in this chapter we get to Lorelai's feelings towards this ordeal and the crux of the issue between Luke and Lorelai. This story is based on the song "Whisky Lullaby" by Brad Paisley and Allison Krauss; and deals with themes of alcoholism and suicide. Thank you all for reading this and I look forward to reading what you think.


From the moment Luke Danes' lifeless body was found, the rumors began flying. Not to say they didn't already fly, after all it was Stars Hollow, but if they were flying before, now the rumors had hit warp speed, fueled of course by dilithium crystals, after Luke's death. Everyone had their own take on why Luke would choose to end his life, let alone why he chose drink as his weapon of choice.

Most came to the conclusion that he died of a broken heart, however. It was no secret that he'd loved Lorelai for so long that when she ended their engagement, a piece of him died with that relationship. It was as if his strength, his will to live, no longer existed; he'd lost his support- his "rock of Gibraltar." Finally, the town concluded, it became too much for him. He'd fallen too far into Dante's inferno. His heart and soul were too shattered for him to fix. They all said that he died because he couldn't conceive living without her. The town's consensus rang very true, too true for Lorelai.


She was sitting in her room, staring at a picture of him when she heard the news. As long as she lived, she would never forget that moment. The heavy knock at the door; the muffled voices at the foot of the stairs; the sudden, sharp rapping at her bedroom door would all be emblazoned on her memory forever.

She heard a male voice call her name, but she couldn't place it. It almost sounded like… Luke… but she hadn't spoken to Luke in a few years, not since she had broken their engagement. She knew that he had taken it hard- how couldn't she know? She still lived in the same house in Stars Hollow. He still had the diner and she had the inn. She knew that he had started drinking and, though she would never admit it, she was there the day that Lane and Kirk had to help him back to his apartment.

She was still staring at that old picture when Jess came into the room. He started towards her, and then froze, realizing just how devastating this whole thing was between the two. He always thought they were meant to be together. When she walked out of his uncle's life, he knew that it had shattered the man, but he didn't realize how much that she had also been devastated.

Watching her stare blankly at the tear-stained photograph in her hand, he was overcome by the magnitude of their love and the severity of this tragedy. Slowly and cautiously, he crept towards her. He knew she'd heard him come in, but she wasn't going to acknowledge his presence until she absolutely had to. It was as if she knew what he was there to do.

When he was standing directly in front of her, he knelt down so that his eyes were level with hers. She stubbornly kept her eyes downward, tears sliding silently from her nose to splash onto the glass-covered photograph that she now clung to with white-knuckled hands. Gently, he slipped his fingers under her chin and raised her face, forcing her to look him in the eyes. It was then that she knew. Luke was gone forever. He was gone, and she couldn't help but blame herself.

Jess just brushed a tear from her cheek, ignoring his own that threatened to spill down his face in rivers. As much as he made everyone believe that he didn't respect Lorelai, a part of him had always looked up to her and he revered her for being a wonderful mother and friend to Rory, and being so good for Luke. He hated seeing her like this, but there was nothing that he could do to alleviate her hurting. She and Luke had made their beds. Tenderly, he kissed the top of her head, the head of the aunt he now would never know, handed her the letter, and, as silently as he had come, left her once again to deal with the ramifications of her heartbreaking decision.


She knew that it was because of her that Luke had fallen so far. Not a day went by that she didn't pray this was some bad dream and she would wake up wrapped safely in Luke's strong arms. However, she knew that it wasn't a dream, it was reality. It was a reality that she had caused and there was no way she could take it back, too much had happened. There was too much pain and too many tears had been shed for them to ever be able to be friends again, let alone pick up where they left off.

She could have handled anything with Luke. Anything. She could handle anything, except not being able to trust him. She had handled the fact that he had a kid with someone other than her. As much as that hurt her, she dealt with it and loved Luke even more because he wanted to be a father to April. When she watched him interact with April or talk about her, she could envision what he was going to be like when they had their own baby. She didn't think it was possible for her to love him even more, but she did.

She remembered how happy he was when she told him she was pregnant with his child. He was adamant. They were going to be a family, a real family. It would be a wonderful, real-life version of Yours Mine and Ours, without the plethora of children. He was so sweet, too. He would hold her hair back from her face during her early morning talks with the porcelain gods and gave her all the apples and peach pie she could stand.

Then the good memories segued into more poignant ones. She remembered how heartbroken he was when she lost the baby, how broken they both were, really. That was the beginning of the end, she realized. As usual, Luke had gone into his head and pulled away from her. This time, though, Lorelai was just as broken as he was, if not more so; it was her baby that grew in her body, after all.

Then the final nail in the coffin of their relationship was plunged into her heart. She was leaving the mall in Hartford and someone came up behind her and tried to force her into his car, presumably to carnally defile her… and it wasn't just anyone. It was an old ex, with which Luke had a relatively sore history. She got away before there was permanent damage, but the experience was enough to rock her to the core of her being.

What she needed was her strong fiancé, her Luke to rescue her, soothe her fears, and remind her that everything was going to be ok. What she got was a jealous, cold man masquerading as her soul mate. Luke was already so far into his own head with grief that he didn't notice how scared Lorelai was and, when she was finally able to talk about what was bothering her, he all but blamed her for brining this horror upon herself saying that she shouldn't have been there anyway, Hartford wasn't a place to go walking after dark, etc. He practically accused her of cheating on him!

It was at that moment that she lost faith in him. It was to her as if Luke didn't believe her, that he didn't trust her to tell the truth and that this incident didn't warrant her fears. He didn't grasp (or didn't want to grasp) that she had nearly been raped; it was unwanted attention from that man. She just could not take that. She couldn't be with someone who she didn't trust and who didn't trust her in return. She ended it between them. Looking back, she couldn't help but think that she had been the one to blame in this. It was all her fault.

She couldn't handle feeling so guilty, so unworthy. She had to do something to ease the ache inside her heart... to stop the hurting and guilt that gnawed away at her stomach. Her fault, he did this to him, unworthy, selfish, murderer flowed through her subconscious as she struggled with the death of her Luke. Her diner man… the love of her life, the Romeo to her Juliet, the Superman to her Lois Lane. Her "Superman" had lost the battle with his own type of Kryptonite.

That's it, she decided. If it worked for him, it will work for me. Who am I to be stronger than him, better than him? She dared to glance at the now damp, glossy page still clenched in her fist and one again found herself captivated by those clear blue eyes she would never have the chance to gaze into, at least not in person. All of a sudden, she was overcome with anger. Anger at him for leaving her to live her life completely alone, anger at herself for screwing up this relationship so badly that she drove him to drink and, ultimately, to his death.


She couldn't take anymore of the overwhelming guilt and pain that coursed through her body with every heartbeat, every breath. All she wanted to do was sleep- sleep forever and maybe when she had slept enough, she would awaken from this nightmare. She went down to the kitchen and rummaged through the small collection of bottles kept in the cupboard until she found what she was looking for- a bottle of Loch Lomond single malt Rory had given to her as a joke during a Scottish phase she went through a few years ago. Ha! Low road, indeed! How fitting to drink a bottle of whisky named for a song about losing a true love to that grey and sickly villain, death, to memorialize the eve of her own love's passing.

Bottle in hand, she went back to her room. She wrapped herself in the familiar flannel she still slept with after all these years. It had lost his scent, but she still wore it to remember how things used to be. Now, she wore it in bereavement for his untimely demise. As she slowly drank the intense amber fluid in a vain attempt to fill the stinging void that grew in her breast, she suddenly became aware of another presence in the room. It was as Luke was sitting right next to her, still loving her. She couldn't take that, either. His loving her after she broke his heart and practically caused his death was just too much for her to bear.

So she drank to get rid of his memory. She drank the entire bottle and finally passed out from exhaustion, tears, and alcohol. Her last thoughts before blessed sleep overtook her were of her Luke and she knew then that there was no escaping his memory, there was only the easing of her throbbing guilty conscience.


He watched from above as his love attempted to bury her pain and guilt under an alcoholic haze. He knew all too well that path. He never wanted that life for her, but he knew that there was no other way. She would know the score soon enough. For now, all he could do was watch and wait, listening to a familiar angelic lullaby.