Fix You

When you try your best but you don't succeed

The three fingers of whiskey burns deep in his belly as he watches them – Blair and Chuck, Chuck and Blair – smiling arm in arm, making circles 'round the room as all well-bred young adults are wont to do on the Upper East Side.

He looks to the right, catches brilliant baby blues reflected by golden strands of silk, wishes he could go back to the good ol' days; the days where he hadn't had access to a trust fund or the capability to fall in love with Serena van der Woodsen's best friend.

Dan Humphrey suppresses the urge to vomit.

When you get what you want but not what you need

A hand claws around her waist, draws her near, Chuck Bass' prized trophy for braving the darkness. Uneasily, Blair rests her hand upon her soft belly; the pregnancy scandal hasn't rocked the Upper East Side just yet, but it won't be long.

It's okay, though, she tells herself. This time she knows who the daddy is. This time she'll have her happy ending, with her Dark Knight and all the gifts and curses that come with surrendering herself to him.

"Are you feeling okay?" Chuck whispers in Blair's, curdled breath permeating her nostrils.

Blair Waldorf feels like she's going to be sick.

When you're so tired but you can't sleep

Stuck in reverse

That night, Dan sits at his laptop, fingers, trembling with intoxication and anger and hurt, unable to move. He wants to write, mostly about her and the way she drives him crazy with her scent and smile and passion, but he can't.

He's stuck.

And while Dan cradles his head in his hands in front of the flickering white screen, Blair is awake on the other side of the city; she's nestled between two arms, two heavy, overbearing arms and all of a sudden she can't think or breathe.

The baby kicks again, reminding her, always reminding her…

She's stuck.

And the tears come streaming down your face

When you lose something you can't replace

Pure white snowflakes fall from the sky, landing softly on crimson, before melting completely into the fabric of the towel.

Blair miscarries on Christmas Eve.

When you love someone but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?

"It wasn't your fault, Blair."

Those are the first words Dan speaks upon opening the door two days later. She stumbles into his arms, doesn't protest when Dan wraps his strong arms protectively around her.

Blair almost disappears in his embrace.

When she finally meets his gaze again, she's all puffy-eyed and shaky-lipped.

"I am so sorry," Dan whispers softly against her ear.

Thumbing away a glistening tear, he rests his palm upon the plum of Blair's cheek; his breath hitches as she leans into his touch.

And then she murmurs something, so inaudible that Dan swears he must be imagining things.

"I made a huge mistake."

Lights will guide you home

When Blair breaks up with Chuck again, it's not pretty; bottles break and fists fly and curse words stream from snarled lips as the heir to the Bass fortune rages in his penthouse.

"Chuck."

Blair says his name over and over, a mantra aimed to soothe the other half of her irreparably damaged relationship.

Hazel eyes become black pebbles set in stone as he glowers. He's hurting, Chuck tells Blair; he wants their child, no, his child that's gone because of her.

With that accusation comes Blair's final declaration.

"Goodbye, Chuck."

When she leaves the Palace, it's snowing again and the idling sedan that awaits her looks as inviting as ever.

Wiping a stray tear as she slides into the backseat, Blair looks at her phone, gloved hand cupped around the screen.

If you need to talk…

And ignite your bones

Dan closes the door softly behind them. "I – well, I was worried. I'm really glad you came."

She shrugs with a ghosted smile, eyes sad and hopeful all at the same time. "Me, too."

Taking Blair's jacket, Dan sets it aside before offering her some tea; she's shivering to the bone.

And soon, Dan hands her the soothing liquid. Blair sips it with gratitude, doesn't object as the only convenient seat Dan can find is right beside her.

"Thank you," Blair says softly.

Fingers grip idly at the fabric of the couch as Dan smiles a "you're welcome". Out of the corner of his eye, he continues watches her, the static image of the television flickering against Blair's pale cheeks.

"It'll be okay, you know," Dan suddenly feels compelled to say, silence broken. "You'll be okay." And without resistance, he takes Blair's small hand in his own and grips it with reassurance, his honey-hued eyes conveying security and trust.

I love you, Blair, they say.

And I will try to fix you