Dan blamed himself.
How could he not? After all he was the one who had brought her to that room. And that was the very reason she had been in his limo in the first place. He should have kept her safe in his loft like a white knight protecting his princess. It was easy to shoulder the blame for her hurt. So he did. He wore it secretly, a badge of honour tucked away beneath his clothes. He was almost glad of the guilt because it distracted from the gnawing, aching worry.
An array of people sat beautifully dressed and coiffed waiting for news. The hospital waiting room was the perfect antithesis of them with its orange plastic chairs and the drab brown carpet. Concern hung heavy in the air about them, buzzing as if it was alive. It was a presence, another person standing there in an overly expensive suit.
Serena sat beside him with her impossibly long legs. Her expression was blank, her eyes distant. But he barely noticed her. His every thought was for Blair. Their last moments together, their last words, all the things he should have told her when he had the chance. Serena kept touching his arm. He wasn't sure if it was for his comfort or for hers.
A few hours ago Nate had brought everyone a cup of coffee. He held it still, the liquid cold in its paper cup. He couldn't bring himself to finish it. It tasted like ash. His chest was tight, constricted by worry. Every breath felt like a betrayal to her and the pain she must be gong through. The footage of the crash was repeated again and again on the news that was splashed up on the screens that dotted the waiting room. Every vehicle involved had been damaged beyond repair.
He was full of dread the same thing had happened to her. Haunted by her velvety brown eyes he excused himself from his family's presence to get some air. The night was cold, crisp and no help. With hands tucked into pockets he stood staring up at the stars, blind to their beauty. None of them could hold a candle to her anyway.
When he went back in not much had changed. Lilly was standing, elegant and aloof near by. One hand was resting on her neck, toying with the sparkling jewels encircling it. Serena still sat in the same seat, just staring. And his father was trying to look after everyone.
Every movement, even their breaths, stopped when the doctor stepped into the waiting room.
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She had lost her child. But somehow Blair Waldorf was still the picture of poise. Her simple hospital bed was a throne and her open backed paper gown a designer dress. She held court in her room, smiling at people as apologies and sympathies were given. Everything about her spoke volumes of her strength and courage. Dan could see the relief in their eyes, the love. But the strain was still there in all of them, one life still hung in the balance. And while Dan was, of course, concerned for Chuck he couldn't bring himself to think of anyone or anything but Blair.
When it was his turn to speak to her he came to stand by her bed but said nothing. There was no condolences he could offer. In all his talent for words he simply couldn't find any for this situation. How did one apologize for the death of a life not yet known? If there was a way he hadn't found it. He remembered all too well how it had felt when Milo left his life. What she must be feeling now would be ten times worse then that. He touched her hand, fingertips brushing her delicate fingers. She met his gaze and gave him one of her classic 'everything is fine' smiles but he didn't buy it.
He wanted to say something. To tell her it was okay to grieve over her child and to worry about Chuck. But it wasn't what she needed. So he gave her hand a squeeze and stepped back from the bed to let Serena take his place.
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There were other people, more important to her, to look after and care for her during this time. But he couldn't help himself. He didn't just want to do this, he needed to.
It was long after visiting hours now. Even though his mind was set he told himself that he shouldn't be here but he couldn't stand the thought of her being here alone. She didn't belong here. Her place was a world of warmth, of luxury. But now she was alone in this cold, white, sterile place, trapped in this hospital full of strangers while Chuck's life hung in the balance. It must have been eating away at her inside.
Her room was moved while he rushed home to change clothes and gather up a few things. The space around her was filled with flowers, about a million peonies. Colourful cards were propped up on the table. All of it made his offer seem so meagre, so small. What the hell was he doing here anyway? He paused in the doorway staring around like an idiot.
Her tiny form was curled up on the bed but she wasn't asleep. Her big eyes stared blankly at one of the walls, her mind processing. He'd never her seen her look so frail, so soft. One tiny hand was tucked beneath her head, dark locks spilled across the crisp pillow and sheets. He was about to turn and go when her gaze shifted to him abruptly.
"Humphrey?" she lifted a brow as his name fell from her lips. No one had ever managed to say it in the way she did. Curiosity, scorn and friendship all wrapped up in one word. No one else made his heart thud against his rib cage.
"I've brought you something," his voice felt tight, strained. He could barely get the words out. Normally he would expect a witty snap back and a sardonic eyebrow. Something like: What could you possibly bring me? But she just stares.
He'd never seen her look so small before. It broke his already broken heart. With a deep breath he reached into the leather bag at his side and drew out the tiny form of Cedric, his cabbage patch kid. Her breath visibly hitched, her pale lips parting slightly. He'd never seen them before without a layer of gloss. The sight fascinated him in ways he never thought possible.
"Someone to keep you company," he shifted uncomfortably as he stepped closer to the bed. He was scared that she would scoff at the gesture or find it insensitive that he dare bring someone who just lost a child a child's toy. Instead she reached out one vulnerable, trembling hand. Tears appeared in her eyes again. Feeling awkward he placed the doll on the bed beside her. One of her hands wrapped around the little cloth stomach, pulling it against her to bury her face in the curly yarn hair.
There was a muffled sob. A tremor ran down her body and then he was stepping forward again, some instinct taking over inside. His hand covered the small curve of her shoulder. Her other hand rose and settled atop his as she finally let the tears fall.
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"We're getting married," Blair said with a grin, practically shoving the diamond on her ring under his nose. He stared at it, remembering that he once compared her to stars. Now Chuck had placed one on her hand and claimed Blair as his.
"That's great," he said lamely, moving to the side to let her into his loft. She is buzzing with excitement, telling him all about the flowers and the church and all the people she is going to invite.
"You will be in attendance, Humphrey. I expect you'll find something suitable to wear?" She raised a brow, pausing beside the counter. She didn't give him a chance to answer. Instead she moved towards the couch, sinking down in that graceful way of hers as she started talking about plans for her impending engagement party.
Without being asked he turned to make her favourite tea. He kept it just there by the kettle, waiting to be used whenever she dropped by. Sometimes when he was feeling nostalgic he would make a cup and just take in the smell, wishing she was near. She is talking about her marriage to another man but he listens with a soft half smile on his lips because even though it hurts he'd rather have her in his life then not at all.
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He was late.
Of all the things to be late to. She'd never forgive him if he missed even one moment of her important day. He never imagined he'd get caught in traffic on Blair's wedding day. He berated himself for not taking the subway like he should have. There was a red carpet leading up into the church and he rushed up it, taking the steps two at a time. He was moving across the foyer and stopped at the sound of her voice. She was coming in from a door at the side.
Dorota, Serena and her mother were all there. They were fussing over her and straightening her train. Serena handed her a large bouquet of peonies. Eleanor kissed her daughters cheek and Dororta clasped her hands for a few moments before the three of them moved away into the church area leaving Dan and Blair alone.
His breath had stopped at the sight of her. Although he was aware of the other women he had hardly seen them. Every ounce of his focus was spent on her. The tendrils of her dark hair, the white dress fitting her every perfect curve. It made his heart, no his world, explode into an agony that was unfamiliar and more painful then he had ever known. He loved this woman, this perfect and yet flawed creature. She had no idea.
"Blair," He breathed out her name and she glanced up sharply, her eyes widening. The name felt strange on his lips, like a sacred word he wasn't allowed to say.
"Dan?" it was one of the few times she had used his first name. There was a frown on her brows, her small lips turned slightly down. Her eyes swept down his black suit and he found himself hoping that she approved.
His heart was a pounding mess against his rib cage as he crossed the space between them in a few long legged steps.
"You're late."
"You look beautiful," his voice was hoarse and full of unspoken emotion. She smiled tentatively, smoothing a hand down the white frothy gown. Her hair is pulled half up with tendrils spilling around her face and bare shoulders. He didn't know why he did it but one hand reached out to brush fingers along that skin, that pale perfect skin.
Her eyes snap from the dress to him, the frown back in place in an instant.
"Blair." He didn't know why he was doing this but it was too late now. Whatever this was, it was in motion and no force in the world would stop it. "Is he the one that makes you happy?"
"Chuck is all I have ever wanted." She stared up into his eyes, not acknowledging the way his fingers skim along her shoulder. Her chocolate eyes were deep, complex and capable of showing so much and hiding so much all at once. It was the answer he expected but not the one in his heart of hearts that he wanted. He couldn't help but feel disappointed.
In his mind he has written the scene a thousand times. Waiting till the minister asks if anyone objects and then shooting to his feet, professing his love and running off with the bride. It would be a fitting and beautiful end to their strange, twisty relationship but as much as he wanted that his nobility wouldn't allow him. Her happiness was all that mattered.
Staring at her he asked himself if he could sacrifice his happiness for hers. The answer was yes. Without question. His hand dropped from her shoulder and he gave her a simple, earnest smile. She smiled back and shooed him into the church with her bouquet of peonies, a few pink petals falling on the floor.
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It felt good to be writing again. He had been carrying around a hole in his heart that could only be filled with words. So he shut himself up in his loft and buried his head in his work. By losing himself in his second book he could shut out the feelings, shut out the very world around him.
It would not be a coming of age story like his first but a love story that had been told countless times before. A tale of a boy and a girl from different worlds who against all odds collide and become one.
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A/N: Fic title is from a Savage Garden song of the same name.