Blair, Undone

Note: This piece is inspired by the promo for next week's "Carrnal Knowledge." Once the episode airs it will be completely AU. I felt so angry on B's behalf watching it. Writing this was like therapy. Please tell me what you think. All thoughts are welcome.

"This school has been aware of gossip girl for some time." Headmistress Queller turned to face Blair, her face stern and unyielding. "We've never felt the need to intervene until recently. You've gone too far, Blair. In tarnishing Ms. Carr's reputation, you've brought shame to all of Constance--to the board and to me. I'm going to have to ask you to gather your things."

Blair felt her breath catch in her throat. "You're expelling me?"

It was a question Blair knew the answer to, but she couldn't believe it. How had things spiraled so completely out of her control?

Headmistress Queller looked down briefly, but her tone held no trace of mercy. "We have not decided when or if you will be allowed to return to Constance. The board will let your parents know when they've reached a decision. And personally, I am beyond disappointed in you."

Blair heard those words over and over--a loud, incessant mantra playing through her mind.

She'd gone straight home after the inquisition--refusing to meet Nelly Yuki's sympathetic eyes, and storming past her father before she could break down in tears. She hated letting people see her cry. Or showing any form of weakness for that matter. It was beneath her. At least she'd always thought so. Now she wasn't sure. Who was she if she wasn't at Constance Billard? If she couldn't go to Yale? Blair didn't know.

When she lost Chuck there was one thing that kept her going. The same workaholic-perfectionist drive that allowed her mother to pour herself into her work when her husband left her. If you can't have the person you love—do everything possible to ensure that every other aspect of your life is without blemish. Even if it's a false perfection that doesn't stand up under direct light.

Control was everything.

Blair stared at her face in the mirror-- her skin was sallow, her eyes red and swollen. She looked like death meets Botox-gone-wrong.

A part of her, the old (strong) Blair, was kicking and screaming at her to do something. To take down that Carr witch even if it took her last pair of Jimmy Choos. But that voice was silenced by a stronger force. A terrified acceptance that she'd lost. By all accounts it was wrong, but somehow she'd been out-manipulated by a newbie lit-teacher who could bat her lashes and feign innocence. And everyone just ate it up. Just thinking about her face made Blair's blood boil.

She wiped her cheek with her hand, catching a glimpse of the not-pretty way her faced contorted in the mirror. She hated crying. It was such a miserable experience. Humiliating even if no one else was watching.

Blair felt a hand on her shoulder and turned abruptly. She wiped her eyes quickly. "What are you doing up here, daddy?"

"Just checking on my little girl." He sat down on the bed now, his normally pleasant face now beset with a deep, worried frown. He reached for her with his arm, pulling her into a hug.

Blair couldn't hold her emotions back, though she wanted to. She sobbed into her father's shoulder, the last shred of control leaving with her father's embrace. "I've ruined everything daddy."

"There, there now." He patted her back gently. "There's nothing daddy can't help you with."

Blair pulled back to look at him. "No, dad. This was my battle. And I lost."

Her father's tone was soft, almost melodic. "You've been through a lot the last few years, Blair. You've had to learn to hold your own, I know."

He wiped pushed one of her tears away with his finger, a small smile forming across his set jaw. "But sometimes it's okay to let someone else take care of you."

Harold Waldorf looked into his daughter's eyes, an almost fire-like glow in his stare. For the first time Blair realized the almost super-human determination she'd inherited hadn't just come from her mother.