Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Blair didn't even wait to read the instructions. The box was ripped haphazardly in half as Blair shut herself in the bathroom. She waited, in anticipation, for the result. But it was not the one she wanted to see.
Overwhelmed, Blair gripped tightly onto the sink for stability as a strong wave of light-headedness caused her a slight loss of balance. This was not happening to her. Blair, for one, wouldn't allow it. Regaining her balance, Blair made for her bedroom, promptly stripping to her underwear from the waist up. Stroking a hand across the front of her stomach, Blair experienced a tsunami of feelings, once again resulting in a loss of balance. Stumbling to her bed, Blair sat down and felt the tears sting at her eyes, forcing her lids to open and spill their contents. Placing her hand on the small curvature of her stomach, Blair underwent a persuasive urge to relapse into her previous condition, very much against her better judgement.
Returning to the bathroom, she knelt above the toilet but something, or rather someone, stopped her from going any further. Blair herself forced her actions to cease. It wasn't just about her anymore - the test had made sure of that. Blair had always been aware of the dangers her bulimia could have upon herself, but to inflict them on something as innocent as an unborn child was something Blair would not condone.
Wiping her tear stained face, Blair walked back to her room, slipping into her night clothes and climbing into bed, regardless of the time. She played around with her phone for a while, needing to talk to someone, but not knowing who to call. Serena was her first option, but after judging Serena so harshly for her promiscuous actions, Blair was less than willing to receive the same treatment back. Next was Nate, but that would mean Blair having to explain to Nate about Chuck and the consequences that would ensue were unthinkable. Left was Chuck himself, and although Blair could think of no reasons why not to call him, she couldn't fathom many reasons why to call the womaniser either.
So Blair chose to bear her burden alone. For the time being anyway. Placing her eye mask delicately over her eyes, Blair drifted into a tortured sleep, hands instinctively resting upon her stomach. It was only when she awoke in a deep sweat that she realised this was too big a burden to bear single-handedly and retrieved her phone from her bedside table.
Are you awake? -B x
Blair sent it to both Serena and Chuck, informing herself that whoever replied first would be the one she told. With a sudden realisation that actually Chuck might reply first, Blair mentally noted not to play by her own rules again, without necessary exceptions being in place first. Praying that Serena would answer, Blair's stomach knotted when her phone vibrated beside her. Daring to look who the reply came from, Blair's stomach knotted even tighter.
I am now, no thanks to you.
What is it now Waldorf?
- C
Blair had no idea what to reply, but reply she would have to - Blair wasn't one to break the rules, particularly not her own. She could lie, say it was to the wrong number but Chuck would suss her out, Blair was certain. Alternatively, she could still lie, and explain it was a momentary lapse of judgement in which she wanted someone to talk to and he was the best out of the worst. Or, Blair decided, she could tell him the truth. That she was pregnant. Most possibly with his child.
She contemplated how she was going to tell him. 'I have a problem' seemed unfair on the child who, to be fair, was most likely going to have a problematic life if it's life were to be even a fraction alike to it's parents' ones, but Blair felt that was not valid enough an excuse to dub her baby as a problem. 'We need to talk' sounded too formal and adult; the exact opposite of how Blair was feeling. As Blair continued to agonise over what to reply, it seemed Chuck had had enough waiting and wanted answers himself, so took it upon himself to figure what the hell was niggling Blair.
"You woke me up to ask me if I was awake. Well, now I'm awake and you're not talking. So either talk or refrain from waking me up unnecessarily in the future."
Blair's hand shook as she held the phone to her ear, her face beaded with sweat and her ear burning all the more as she pressed the phone close to her ear.
"C-Chuck?" Blair's stomach lurched, wishing this was a dream, that Chuck wasn't on the end of the line. That everything was a dream and she'd wake up being 16 again, before that fateful night in Chuck's limousine. If she had never allowed herself to be intoxicated by Chuck Bass, she wouldn't have gone back to him, time and time again, but more importantly wouldn't be in this baby-shaped mess. But how was she meant to tell that to Chuck?
Whilst Blair agonised, Chuck was sitting on his bed, back propped against the bed head, carefully combing his hair for something to do. He was anticipating sending a touch of his infamous sarcasm Blair's way, but something in her voice made him stop.
"Blair, what's wrong?" Blair noted the concern in Chuck's voice, even over the crackling phone line. They may have the most expensive phones available, but New York was still New York. The silent tears fell hard and fast from Blair's eyes as she struggled to conceal a sniff.
"It's nothing. Sorry I disturbed you." The lies flowed so easily. This would be easy, Blair told herself.
"It doesn't sound like nothing." Chuck stopped combing his hair and had walked over the window, almost in a vain attempt to be closer to Blair.
"I'm fine." Blair smiled, for no-one's benefit but her own. It wasn't as if Chuck could see her fake smiles and lying eyes anyway.
"Blair, this is me." Chuck's art of persuasion stopped short of getting women into bed and his ability to get people to confess relied slightly to heavy on the influence of alcohol. Instead, he offered all that he could to Blair - himself.
"I know." Blair whispered, tears slowing but leaving her face taught and in discomfort.
"Blair, what is going on? Do you want me to come over?" The alarm in Chuck's voice was becoming more and more apparent. Sure, he'd tortured Blair these last few weeks but no matter the reason he gave, it was the only way Chuck knew of how to keep Blair an intrinsic part of his life. He knew it was bordering on pathetic but it worked. When Blair didn't answer, Chuck decided for her. "I'm coming over."
"No!" Blair protested, but no one heard. Chuck had already ended the call and was, Blair suspected, already on his way over. Thankful that her mother was away for the night, Blair figured Chuck would somehow let himself in. Saying that, she wasn't fully prepared for Chuck's arrival into her room. He looked flustered, she looked tear-stained and although every part at her screamed not to do so, she walked over to Chuck and broke down in his arms.
For Chuck, it felt foreign to hold a girl so intimately without the end result of bedding them, but hold Blair he did, his hands squeezing her body close to his as if he were afraid to let her go. Looking around her room for reasons of Blair's distress, the last thing Chuck Bass expected to see in Blair Waldorf's bathroom was the very thing that caught his eye.
She sobbed on his shirt, willing herself to let go, not wanting to be viewed on as weak and incapable but something kept her holding on. Chuck was shaking his head in disbelief. Blair Waldorf taking a pregnancy test was one of the only things Chuck could think of that would actually render him speechless.
"Chuck, I'm-" Blair began, with the intention of apologising for waking him at this ungodly hour but Chuck cut her up.
"I know." Chuck said bluntly, without adding the harsh exterior one might have presumed Chuck would have applied. Blair pulled away instantly, staring at Chuck with wide, bloodshot eyes. How could he know? And then it hit her. Casting a small glance sideways, Blair spotted the test and box strewn across her bathroom, prompting her heart to sink.