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Special Agent Dale Cooper is trapped in the Black Lodge for just over six weeks.
It takes about five minutes for Sheriff Harry Truman and Doc Hayward to realize something isn't quite right with their friend—or the person they think is their friend—after he returns from chasing Windom Earle and Annie Blackburn into that awful place.
It takes about a month to admit that no, Cooper is not just processing the trauma of what happened—something is really, truly wrong.
It takes almost another two weeks to determine what exactly it is that is wrong—Cooper is not, in fact, Cooper.
It takes less than twenty-four hours for Harry, Andy, Hawk, and Major Briggs to mount a rescue mission. It involves some very careful planning, a significant amount of preparation of the mind, and Harry driving his pickup truck right through Glastonbury Cove—but it works. The real Cooper is returned to the mortal plane and his doppelganger (who is, apparently, BOB's host) is trapped in the Black Lodge, presumably to stay.
As far as they can tell, Cooper is fine physically. No blood or injuries are to be seen. Doc Hayward insists they take him to the hospital anyway, regardless of the fact that it is currently the fullest it has been in decades. None of the others are inclined to disagree after what happened the first time.
Cooper is unconscious when he returns from the Lodge, and he stays that way for several hours. When he wakes up, he isn't nearly comatose the way Annie was, but he is clearly disoriented and shellshocked. They try to get him to drink some water and pile blankets onto him as he shivers.
He speaks, and it isn't quite nonsense, but almost. It's like he knows what it is he's saying, and what he says has meaning, the others just aren't privy to it, and he doesn't bother to explain. In one of his more lucid moments, he inquires after Annie's wellbeing, which is taken as a good sign, even if he doesn't seem to quite follow the response.
This lasts for several days, with Cooper staying awake and lucid a little longer each day. Finally, after almost a week, he seems to come back to himself. He doesn't look well—he's pale and thin, with dark circles under his eyes—and he is quieter than usual, but he is already awake when Harry comes in to see him in the morning.
"Coop," Harry says, surprised to see his friend up.
Cooper offers a weak smile. Its megawattage is a tiny fraction of its usual brilliance, but Harry is thrilled to see it. "Harry. Good morning."
Harry takes a seat in the chair that has been occupied by the staff and friends of the Twin Peaks Sheriff's Department nearly every moment since Cooper arrived at the hospital. "How do you feel?" he asks, voice gentle.
Coop chuckles drily. "If I'm being honest, I've been better."
Harry smiles back, a bit sadly, and nods.
There is a moment of quiet before Cooper visibly rearranges his face into a neutral expression before asking carefully, "How's Annie?"
"Doing alright, I think. She was in rough shape when we first found her." At Cooper's alarmed expression, Harry rushes to continue, "Just a head laceration, nothing major. She was just shellshocked, really. She was kind of out of it, spouted some nonsense. But she got discharged a few weeks ago, and Ed said she's settled back in with Norma. She's quiet—Norma doesn't think she's sleeping much—and she's taking some time off work. But, Coop, it seems like she's going to be okay."
Much of the tension melts from Cooper's frame at that news. "Good."
There's a long pause before Harry says, "Have they given you breakfast yet? I could have one of the boys run and grab you some from Rosie's. The food they serve here looks like nuclear waste."
Coop smiles again. "That would be wonderful, Harry." Suddenly he fixes Harry with a steely gaze. "Harry, I believe BOB possessed my doppelganger and impersonated me outside of the Black Lodge. Is that correct?"
The sheriff pauses before realizing there's no use trying to convince his friend to wait until he's recovered a bit more to hear the hard news. "Yeah, that's right."
"What happened?"
Harry sighs. "Do you know how long it's been?"
Coop shakes his head.
"Close to two months."
Cooper nods and doesn't look surprised.
"Well, we thought he was you for a while, and that you were just acting weird because of whatever happened in there. After a while, we figured something must be wrong, and then it took us another couple of weeks to figure out exactly what it was."
"And then?"
"We cornered him, hogtied him, and brought him to Glastonbury Cove with us."
Harry is relieved Coop doesn't ask for anymore information. "And while he was here, he didn't…?"
"Nope, didn't do anything too terrible. We thought he was you, and that something was wrong with you, so he was almost never alone. Bastard had to keep up the facade." Harry responds, giving a wry, satisfied smile.
Cooper's shoulders relax further. "That's good."
There's a long period of silence as Cooper stares at the blanket on his lap and Harry stares at Cooper. Finally, Harry takes a deep breath. "Um, your guys from the FBI have been here since we got you out. I shooed them off to get some sleep."
Cooper looks up again and quirks a smile at that. "Gordon and Albert?"
"Yeah. Albert told me Diane wasn't coming because 'That perky little asshole decided to go to hell without so much as a by-your-leave to the Bureau, so he can just suck it.' Or something."
The other man's little smile grows a bit more, and he nods to himself like that was what he expected.
After another moment, Harry stands, clapping a hand to Cooper's shoulder. "Well, I'll go get you that breakfast. And I'll call Gordon and Albert. I was threatened with getting arrested for obstruction if I didn't let them know if anything changed."
Cooper doesn't respond, but he looks up when Harry speaks up from the doorway. "Hey, Coop? We're all with you. Alright?"
"I know."
Lucy and Andy got to work planning their shotgun wedding right after Annie and the false Cooper returned, based on Lucy's insistence that they have to be married before the baby is born—and before she can't fit into the majority of the wedding dresses at the bridal store. By the time Cooper—the real one, choosing to stay in Twin Peaks for his few months of medical leave—is discharged from the hospital and settled into Harry's guest bedroom, the wedding planning is in full swing.
For his part, Cooper spends a lot of his time fishing, hiking, meditating, or otherwise resting and recuperating, but he often finds himself wandering over to the sheriff's station, if nothing else than to bring the folks there coffee and to chat amicably with Lucy.
It is during one of these visits that he gets pulled into the wedding planning. Cooper has dropped off coffee and breakfast for everyone at the station and is just about to leave for another day of hiking and fishing.
"I'm off to the lake. Goodbye, Lucy," Cooper says to the secretary on his way out the door.
"Bye, Agent Cooper," Lucy responds, before suddenly perking up. "Oh, wait!"
Cooper freezes where he had been halfway out the door. "Yes, Lucy?"
"Can I get your opinion on something?"
"Of course." Cooper walks back over to Lucy's desk, leaning over it to peer curiously at the veritable mountain of bridal magazines she has stacked on, under, and behind the desk.
"Do you know much about flowers, Agent Cooper?" Lucy asks.
"Well, I have a little garden back in Philadelphia, if that's what you mean."
Lucy pouts. "No, I mean for bouquets. I just can't decide what to order for the wedding. Andy's no help. He just says 'I'm sure whatever you choose will look beautiful, punky,' which is sweet, but the problem is I don't know what to choose. There's orchids, and geraniums, and chrys—chrysanthemums, and—"
"Oh, I see," Cooper replies. "Well, I do know a little about flower language."
Lucy's eyes widen, shining expression that of a drowning woman rescued from high floodwaters. "You do?"
Cooper nods seriously. "The language of flowers is a beautiful and complex one. It can be used for anything from heartfelt, meaningful love letters in nature's form to coded messages in espionage."
"I don't know about coded messages, but what do you think about pink gardenias?"
Naturally, Cooper also has a good eye for color theory, and in short order he has helped Lucy choose between her dahlias, carnations, hydrangeas, and chrysanthemums.
They're discussing how the bridesmaids' bouquets should complement Lucy's when Andy walks by. "How is the planning going, punky?"
Lucy raises her eyebrows at her groom-to-be, tapping her nails on the desk. "Wonderful, now that Agent Cooper is here. It's so nice to have someone around who actually has an opinion on certain things."
To his credit, Andy looks a little chagrined. "I'm sorry, punky. I just don't have a head for decorations and dresses and things."
At his apology, Lucy's glare melts into an affectionate look. "I know. I just need a second opinion sometimes."
"Well, maybe Agent Cooper wouldn't mind giving you his opinion sometimes?" Andy looks at the other man imploringly.
Before Cooper can agree—or protest the continued use of his formal title—Lucy lights up like a Christmas tree. "Oh, that would be wonderful! My mother and my sister live in Tacoma, and between the drive and the baby they can't make it down here much, and I can't go there often because of work, and planning a wedding over the phone is absolutely impossible, you know. It's so hard planning a wedding by yourself. Would you help me, please, Agent Cooper?"
Cooper stares wide-eyed for a moment, surprised at his sudden promotion from "occasional second opinion" to "co-planner," then grins and holds one finger in the air. "I'd be happy to help. I need something to do, anyway. I haven't had this much free time since—well, it's been a long time. But I'll only do it on one condition."
Lucy and Andy wait, enraptured.
"Stop calling me by my full title. Cooper or Coop or Dale will do just fine for my friends."
Lucy and Andy both smile, the former in delight and the latter in profound relief.
So Cooper begins to spend more time at the station than he already has been, squeezing behind Lucy's desk and chatting about napkins and centerpieces and invitations and everything else involved in a wedding over bridal magazines and coffee. He takes it as seriously as he does anything, listening intently to Lucy's thoughts and giving his own opinions, ultimately encouraging her to choose what she thinks is best.
All in all, the wedding is basically planned in another three weeks, five weeks after Cooper's discharge from the hospital.
"You don't know the meaning of 'rest and recuperate,' do you?" Harry asks him as they leave the station one day.
"Harry, I believe that rest is fundamental to a sound soul, mind, and body. I just happen to rest when being productive," Coop insists.
"Uh-huh." The Sheriff's voice is full of skepticism.
But Harry notes that Cooper has started smiling just a little more freely, even if he still looks tired.
The Moran-Brennan wedding is not a June wedding like the bride had originally been hoping, but rather an early-July one. Despite its rushed planning process, it is a lovely ceremony by all accounts.
The guests are higher in number than expected, as Andy has a very large family, including five younger sisters, two of whom have children of their own. Add to that number the Sheriff's department and a considerable portion of the population of Twin Peaks, and the affair is pretty sizable for a shotgun wedding.
Cooper had been thrilled to be one of Andy's groomsmen, along with Harry (the best man), Hawk, and Andy's brother-in-law. However, he finds himself less thrilled to be at the reception. While he may have previously confessed to thoroughly enjoying weddings, this is the largest crowd he has been around since the Miss Twin Peaks contest. The atmosphere is joyful, but it's loud, and though he is delighted to watch Andy and Lucy dance with their loved ones, he can't bring himself to join in. He would very much like to leave, in fact, but he can't bear the idea of casting even the slightest shadow upon his friends' special day.
So, after the obligatory dance between the members of the wedding party, Cooper has taken refuge at a table in the corner, sipping some lemonade, watching Andy dancing with his nieces and Lucy swaying with her baby nephew, and hoping no one notices him.
When he sees someone coming up to his table in his peripheral vision, his heart sinks—but it shoots up into his throat when he realizes who it is.
"Annie," he blurts out as she takes a seat, surprise soundly defenestrating politeness.
"Hello," she replies with a little wan smile.
Cooper takes a few seconds longer than necessary to drink the sight of her in. She's in a conservative blue dress, long hair coiled back into a sizable knot. She's thinner than he remembers, and he sees deep, dark circles under her eyes. He just barely holds back a wince, knowing he looks much the same.
He realizes he's been staring. "I...I didn't realize you were here."
She shakes her head. "I wasn't at the ceremony. Norma and I were invited, but I chickened out at the last minute. Then I changed my mind again. So, here I am."
There's a long pause as Cooper decides whether or not it would mean anything to ask the question he wants to ask. He decides to ask. "How are you?"
Annie tilts her head thoughtfully. "I'm fine. Or maybe as fine as can be expected. Which is to say, not very fine at all. How are you?"
His mouth twists into a humorless smile. "About the same, I'd expect."
She nods in understanding.
"I actually helped plan the wedding," he says, needing to fill the silence. "Lucy needed help and I needed something to do. It was nice, actually."
"It turned out really lovely."
Cooper nods and twists his napkin in his hand. There is a long silence.
"You've been avoiding me," Annie says.
Coop jerks his head up to meet her gaze in surprise. "I—"
"Norma told me she's been seeing you at the diner. Didn't she tell you I said to come visit?" Her tone isn't angry, nor is it particularly accusatory.
He swallows hard anyway. "She did."
Her gaze returns to the dance floor, where the band has begun to play a slow song, and tilts her head thoughtfully. "I suppose, in all fairness, I could have tried to run into you, but the idea of going to the diner or the sheriff's station, with all those people, made me too nervous to walk."
"Oh?"
She nods and smiles drily at him. "It's a bit of a miracle I'm here right now." Then she holds her hand out, palm down, between them. There's a noticeable tremor. "See? I'm shaking like a leaf."
He winces with guilt, only half-successful at hiding it. "I, uh—I know what you mean."
Annie nods and returns her hand to its original position in her lap. "So I guess what I'm trying to say is that I came here specifically to see you and inform you that you can drop the guilt-driven avoidance act."
He doesn't know what to say.
"Whatever sense of responsibility you feel for what happened is misguided—you can't control the actions of another man, and the sheriff said Earle had ulterior motives anyway. I miss you, and I would like to see you again. Maybe just in a less crowded setting."
Cooper, whose mouth has been hanging open uselessly, finally remembers how to speak. "Annie, I—"
She barrels right over him, in a way that is less "interruption" and more "carefully rehearsed speech wasn't quite finished." "Though I don't think I'm in a place to pick up our relationship where we left it off. Maybe in the future. Hopefully. Just not right now."
Finally Annie falters a little, emotion creeping into her voice. "I just—Dale, I just miss you."
Coop takes the sight of her in for a long moment. Her hands are clasped tightly together in her lap, large eyes shining with emotion—anxiety, fear, longing, and just a little hope. Finally, his shoulders relax and he reaches out to give her hands a quick squeeze before returning them to their place in front of him.
"I've missed you too, Annie," he admits, voice soft.
She smiles. It's beautiful and brilliant and the most magnificent thing he's ever seen, and he can't help but smile back.