❝THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE❞
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chapter one, pre Gilmore Girls

December 11th, 1984

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[ LUKE'S POV ]

     I RECEIVED THE PHONE CALL AT EIGHT AM. ON THE ELEVENTH OF DECEMBER.

I was sound asleep, trying to catch a couple more hours before I'd have to go and help my father out in the hardware store. It's a Sunday, a day of rest, and I desperately want to stay in bed but I know that I have to pick up this phone because it's rang three times in the last minute, indicating that something is going on.

     I somewhat expect it to be my father demanding me to come down to the store but when as I move to answer the phone, I find that it isn't my father. It's a woman.

"Is this Lucas Danes?"

My full name is never used unless it's serious and I don't recognise the voice on the other end of the line. I'm slightly tempted to hang up the call but I can't go back to sleep without knowing what this call is about, especially when my full name has been used.

I clear my throat, shifting uncomfortably to rest against the table. "Uh, speaking."

"Hi, Mr Danes. We need you to ask you a few questions in regard to Violet Walker."

     God, I hadn't heard that name in a long time. She and I had something of a relationship over a year ago. We were a disaster from the beginning, only dating for four months before calling it quits because I could not commit to save my life. I solely hated the idea of being in a relationship and I only wanted something casual and less serious. I wanted something with no strings.

     Violet, on the other hand, wanted commitment. She wanted the flowers and the big love declarations that I just couldn't give her. Me and Violet haven't spoken since our breakup so why is this woman asking me about her? I never expected to hear from her or see her again which I didn't exactly mind.

"Do you know Violet Walker?"

     "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I do. Why?" I reply, my arm crossing over my chest as I rest the phone in between my shoulder and cheek.

     "Well, I'm calling from Connecticut Children's Medical Center in Hartford in regards to your daughter—"

     I don't hear anything else after the words, "your daughter" is said. For a second, I think I'm hallucinating because there is no way I heard her correctly. I don't have a daughter. It's not impossible, but me and Violet never— Well,we did, but we were— Okay I can't a daughter, not right now. There is no way I have a daughter.

     I have a daughter. I can't have a daughter.

     I'm twenty-years-old. I can't have a child. There is no way I have a child, not at the age of twenty when I'm finally starting to get my life together. How am I supposed to care for another human being when I'm only just starting to look after me. I'm not exactly stable, so I don't imagine my own kid to be.

     Oh, God. I might be sick.

     I have a daughter. A baby girl. My kid.

     The woman's voice sounds through my ears after this revelation, "Did you know that Miss. Walker was pregnant?"

"No," I reply bluntly.

God, if I had known I would've obviously been there. I would've stepped up. I would've— Well, I wouldn't react like this.

"I had no idea," I confirm, hoping they believe that I'm not some deadbeat who runs away from his responsibilities. If I knew I had a kid, I'd step up to the responsibility.

"We ran DNA tests to confirm you're her father. We've contacted Child Services and if you can get here soon, we need to talk with you. From there, you can decide your next steps."

The only question I ask is, "Where's Violet?"

"Missing. She packed her things and left without anyone realising. Of course, we would've contacted you sooner if we had known that you were the child's father."

Violet left my daughter in a hospital alone. I don't know why I suddenly feel protective of her but I suddenly feel I need to get off this phone and get down to this hospital to see my daughter. Oh, God, my daughter is in a hospital without a mother and they need me of all people to come and collect her.

     Violet Walker was usually one to sprint away from her problems, something she did when she and I were together but how could she abandon her own child, somebody she's supposed to love and cherish. How could she do this? If I ever see her again, I don't know how I'll even react. How could she do this?

     There's a burning in my throat and I feel I'm very close to being sick, likely due to the shock of it all. I need to get out of this house. I need to get out of this suffocating room and rush to the hospital right now. I need to see that baby girl. My baby girl.

     "I'm sure this isn't what you expected to hear but we're afraid that your daughter will be collected by Child Services is you fail to collect her. Do you understand?" I'm nodding but I'm not completely understanding because words are failing to leave my mouth right now. "Mr. Danes?"

     I breathe deeply. "Yes. I... I'll be right there. Thirty minutes. I'll... I'll be there."

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I ARRIVED FIVE MINUTES AGO yet I haven't moved from the car. I've been sitting here, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel for five minutes, trying to think of how I can handle the idea of having a daughter.

I can't possibly be a father, not right now, not when my life seems to be running smoothly. I'm not a family guy, and I'm certainly not the dad type of guy. I'm definitely not a girl dad, not in any way am I the dad to a girl. I mean, I can't even look after an animal never mind an actual human being.

     Why did Violet do this? Why did she not tell me she was pregnant? If she had just done that, I could've prepared for this. Now I have to go in there, collect my daughter, and bring her home when I have zero idea on what I'm doing. I haven't been a kid for a long time and there's no one in my family who I can possibly ask for help.

     I have to tell my family.

     I completely forgot that I need to tell them. I'll need to tell my dad who I'm afraid may be indifferent about this whole situation. He already has one grandchild and now he apparently has two.

     My sister, Liz isn't in Stars Hollow anymore. After she graduated, she left with her son, Jess and I haven't got a clue where she is now. I can't call her because she barely knows what to do either.

     It's situations like these that I wish my mother was still alive. She'd know what to say or what to do. She'd be sitting in this car with me, reassuring me that I can be a dad to the baby girl in this hospital. She'd say all the right things. But she's not here and I'm alone in the car, my head against the wheel as I try to figure out how I should handle this.

     I'm not old enough to drink but I'm old enough to be a dad. How has this worked out? I can't even blame alcohol on this situation because I don't drink. There's no one to blame but me and Violet— the woman I refuse to know anymore after she abandoned her own kid and lied to me for nine months.

     This woman abandoned my child. My flesh and blood is sitting in that hospital without a parent and I can't help but wonder if she looks like me. Does she have my eyes? My nose? My hair colour? The only way I'll know is if I get out of this stuffy car and walk inside.

     I push open the car door, not realising how sweaty my hands are.

     I know I'm panicking and I know that when I'm in there, I'll be in a state of shock. I may throw up, faint, cry or all three.

     I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to say to the receptionist who sits by the door. She's scribbling down in her notepad, something I can't quite read, and I hover by the front desk, afraid of what to say or how to act.

     She looks up from her paper, obviously sensing somebody in front of her. "Can I help you?"

     "Uh, yes. I..." Oh, God. I'm going to be sick already and I haven't even met her. "I got a call about my— I'm Luke Danes. I got a call earlier, like, half-an-hour ago from a woman who..." This woman in front of me is looking at me like I'm crazy and I don't know what I'm talking about. "Uh, Violet Walker's room? Do you—"

     "Oh, yes." She rises from her chair and she begins to walk away. "Follow me."

     She's walking quickly and I'm doing my best to keep up, afraid that I'll faint if I don't continue to follow this woman down the hall and into a small office, a room that looks suffocating and unwelcoming. Inside there's a woman, perhaps the one I spoke with on the phone.

     The receptionist ushers me in. "This is Luke Danes," she says, the door closing behind her as I stand across from the woman at the table.

     "Ah, Mr. Danes." She stands, holding her hand out for me to shake. "I'm Sandra Hefner, I work for Child Services. Please sit."

     I imagine I look pale and panicked. I was somewhat afraid of shaking her hand as she'd be able to tell how nervous I am from the sweat against my palm. Hopefully she understands. It's not everyday you receive a phone call from a hospital about a mystery child you knew nothing about.

     She has a file in her hands and she opens it to the first page. "I understand this is likely nerve racking for you, Mr. Danes, but I assure you that we will do everything we can to help you."

     "Thank you." I clear my throat but the overwhelming feeling doesn't subside.

     "Now, we'd like to discuss with you your options. I think—"

     "I want to take her home," I say without hesitation. The woman looks somewhat stunned by my sudden response but I don't know why. Did she really think I'd allow her to put my kid into the foster system? Did she think I wouldn't step up to my responsibility and be a dad?

     She closes the file quickly, her hands clasping together. "Well, of course, that is your decision. After all, she is your daughter, but are you sure you don't want to—"

     I shake my head. "No. No, I want to see her and take her home. I... I'm her dad. She should be with me."

     "Of course," she replies, a sympathetic smile on her face. I don't need her sympathy, not when this is my decision and I know what I'm doing. Do I actually know what I'm doing? Not really, but I will figure this out. "Are you in employment or college? Do you have a way of providing for your child?"

     "I work at my father's hardware store in Stars Hollow. I make steady money," I say, not completely lying. I've always been good at saving, especially when I make very little money. I often help the town with any odd jobs they need doing alongside working at the hardware store and I've been saving since high school, meaning I can afford to take care of my kid. "I live with my dad. Uh, it's a good house but I understand that I'll need somewhere more suitable for her, I'm sure. But I have my own room and I can set up a crib in my sister's old room and— Wait, does she have a name?"

     I don't know how I went from discussing where my daughter is going to sleep to asking about her name but I feel like I need to ask. "No, Miss. Walker never named her. Do you perhaps have a name in mind?"

     Definitely not. I can't believe I'm responsible for naming somebody. What if she grows up and hates the name I choose? What if I don't choose a suitable name for a future adult? Now I'm not only panicking about where she's going to stay in the house but about the name I will have to inevitably pick for her.

     "Uh, no. Not yet," I say, leaning back in my chair. "On the phone you said it took a couple of days to run the tests. What day was she born?"

     "Sixth of December," Sandra answers.

     Five days ago. My daughter isn't even a week old and she's been abandoned by her mother, the woman who is supposed to nurse her and care for her has left her.

     Which causes me to ask, "Will you find Violet? Will she come back?"

     "We stopped by her home where she lives with her parents and we found that the house has recently been sold. We have no idea where Miss. Walker is, I'm afraid."

     She and her family have left. They sold their house. They knew they were going to do this. They knew they were going to abandon that poor girl. How could they do this? From what Violet used to tell me, her parents were good people. However, Violet was supposedly a good person but that doesn't seem to be the case anymore.

     My daughter is alone.

     Alone.

     "Where is she?" I ask, suddenly realising that I can't leave her alone any longer.

     "I can take you to her right now," Sandra says, her hands grasping the file as she pushes her chair out before she stands from her chair.

     I'm quick to follow her movements, ready to meet my kid. I can't leave her alone any longer. She needs a parent and I'm going to be that for her. I'm going to the person she can rely on even if I haven't got a clue what I'm doing.

     I follow Sandra down the hall, my hands rubbing against my jeans as I try to calm myself down. I'm ready for this. I'm ready to be a father. I'm ready to meet my daughter. After the talk, I'm finally ready to accept my responsibility and be a dad to my kid. I'm ready.

     Sandra pushes open a door to another quiet, lonely room and I'm about to ask where we are until the door is opened again, and this time, a nurse steps in with a small baby girl in her arms.

     She's tiny. Smaller than I must have been when I was born and the nurse holds her carefully in her arms, close to her chest, and I have the urge to reach my arms out and take her. I desperately want to hold her.

     "Can I—" I can't finish this sentence, suddenly feeling overwhelmed at the idea of holding her. The nurse understands, a kind smile on her face as she takes a step forward, bringing my baby girl closer to me.

     I hold my arms out, allowing the nurse to carefully place my daughter— my beautiful daughter— into my arms. She rests her head in the crease of my elbow, and I hold her with both arms despite her slotting against one arm completely. She squirms in my hold, obviously uncomfortable as she's only been held by nurses for the last five days.

     Her eyes blink open, revealing that she has the same blue I have. She looks like an angel. She doesn't feel real, not to me, and I can't understand how I went from being asleep to having a daughter in an hour. She's angelic. Her face is soft, her hands are small, and she looks up to me before her eyes close again. Those crystal blue eyes. Gorgeous.

     She stretches in my arms, the hat on her head slipping from her head to reveal a bed of brown hair. She looks just like me. I swear she even has the same nose as me, something she will hate when she grows up.

     I trace a finger against her cheek, feeling how soft her skin is.

     She stretches her arm out, her hand grasping at my finger, and I'm suddenly feeling clogged up. My throat swells, my eyes ache from trying to hold back the tears, and I don't feel so panicked anymore because this girl in my arms is nothing but pure perfection.

     Her tiny fingers hold my finger and her eyes blink open again. My own eyes are fixated on her. Blue on blue.

     A tear runs down my cheek subconsciously. I sniffle, a smile playing on my lips as she yawns quietly, her entire body shifting in my arms but I hold onto her tightly.

     "Hi, kid." I lean down, pushing a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm your dad."

     I'm her dad. She's my kid. And she's perfect.

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