Sometimes clarity strikes like lightening and you're left standing, stunned, because all of the sudden you understand and everything that was obscured before seems clear.

This is what happens to Blair Waldorf. It's a late winter afternoon and the sun is actually shining, but Blair doesn't notice. Even though floor to ceiling office windows reveal a clear blue sky, she barely sees it. Her assistant is standing by her side with a tablet ready to take notes on the latest designs from the European designer Blair had found months before, the one who was going to elevate her mom's company to new heights. They are scattered all over the table, the sunlight falling across color photos, jewel toned beautiful ballgowns and couture that will grace the runways of fashion week in only a few days. Blair barely sees the photos. She is seeing something else, someone else, and she places both her hands on the the table, steadying herself, staring into space, lost somewhere else.

Lost.

She's been so lost.

This has happened before. It's not the first time that Blair has experienced a life-changing realization in the past year. She's had way too many of them, and way too many regrets. Tears fill her eyes and threaten to spill over onto her cheeks, and Blair doesn't even think about what her assistant will think, the formidable Ms. Waldorf, standing over a table, crying.

The first time it happened was six months after she returned from Europe.

Blair had wanted to stay in Paris but Chuck needed to come back for business. She'd told him that she would stay in her Paris apartment, working hard with her designer, putting together the sketches for the debut of the new Waldorf Designs line for fashion week. Chuck had insisted she come back to New York with him, telling her he needed her by his side for a business deal, that he was so close to getting his empire back, that Blair by his side would give his investors confidence. Blair had sighed and agreed, although it would put her behind a full week with the preparations. After all, she loved him.

Dorota had flown head of her and gotten the penthouse ready, so when she walked in it was like she'd never been gone, with fresh flowers in the foyer and the bed made up with her favorite linens. Blair had felt somewhat happy to be home, although now home reminded her too much of things that hurt, so coming home was also bittersweet. The penthouse felt haunted by the ghost of Serena, and Blair found herself waiting for Serena to come bounding in, golden and bubbly and ridiculous as ever, going on about some new boy or some new party. The Serena she'd known in high school who was carefree and happy. She hadn't realized returning would bring back the specter of her best friend.

Serena didn't call her anymore. She didn't call anyone. The only way to keep track of her is in the tabloids, who published bleary eyed pictures of her stumbling out of night clubs and parties, her body looking more and more emaciated, her gaze unfocused and when Blair sees the pictures its like there's nothing there. Serena is gone.

Chuck is busy. He's rebuilding his business and Blair understands. She tells herself that as many times as she needs to when he's late from a meeting or forgetting her birthday. Then Chuck shows up with flowers or jewelry and tells her he can't do this without her and he still can't believe she's by his side, and Blair forgets the loneliness. So when he stays up working their first night back in New York and she ends up falling asleep with her cheek against the cool cotton pillowcase, the other side of the bed empty, it's not unexpected.

Blair has learned a lot about being alone.

It's strange because that moment on the roof, the moment she gave herself to Chuck, it was supposed to be the moment she was no longer alone. Then she went to Monaco and refused to leave, stood by him like he said she hadn't, showed him that she was not going to walk away. Because his words on the roof of the Empire had hurt and because if there was one thing Blair Waldorf liked, it was a challenge.

She woke up in with the morning light and breakfast sitting next to her bed and it was like old times, and for the one millionth time Blair thanked the universe that Dorota was in her life. She ate, enjoying extra crispy bacon and croissants, then threw on her dressing gown and headed downstairs.

Chuck was at the table eating breakfast with his laptop open. Blair said good morning and went to kiss him on the cheek and Chuck mumble something and kept staring at the computer screen.

"I thought we could hit MOMA today," Blair murmured as she grabbed a cup of coffee and sipped it. It was hot and burned her tongue a little.

"Blair." Chuck said, not looking up at her, his tone mildly irritated "I told you I would have to work. This investor could be what Jack and I need."

"Oh, okay." Blair said, pushing down the feelings of annoyance that were bubbling up. She had put aside her work to accompany Chuck and she'd thought that he could at least spend some time with her, but again it was the company. She could go by herself.

Chuck glanced up and finally met Blair's gaze. If he noticed her disappointment, he didn't say anything. Blair smiled plaintively, trying to disguise her sadness.

"Don't forget we have the gala tonight."

She'd forgotten what it was like on the UES, event after event, party after party. Paris was all work and no play for Blair, falling into bed exhausted at night, trying to find time to spend with Chuck, planning intimate dinners at odd hours when they could finally be together. They were both busy, Blair told herself. They were moguls, young executives, building businesses, shoring up empires, and when that was your life, who had time for art or discussion or dinner together. It was an easy thing to tell herself when he didn't show up.

"I know." Blair said, trying to edge the bitterness out of her voice.

"Make sure you look good." Chuck said, his gaze back to the computer screen, his fingers flying furiously over the keyboard. "Go out and buy something new."

Blair held back the biting response she wanted to give him. After all, she had promised to stand by him this time, and if he needed her to be by his side, the supportive girlfriend, the elegant and enchanting woman who would compliment Chuck Bass in every way, she would do it. But she didn't need Chuck to tell her to buy something new.

She wore one of the the new designs that night, a backless number that combined edgy and classic, and as Blair looked at herself in the mirror, she thought that this dress was something Audrey Hepburn would have worn. She pulled her hair back in a sleek bun and her only jewelry was a simple necklace. No one could deny that Blair looked perfect. She would be the perfect accessory to Chuck Bass tonight. Just like he needed her to be.

The limo pulled up to the gala entrance and there were camera flashes going off as she and Chuck emerged from the limo and onto the sidewalk. Blair hooked her arm in Chuck's and smiled up at him and tried to find that old feeling of excitement that she used to get when she attended one of these things, back when it was all about being seen and who was wearing what, and here she was, grown up, successful, and with Chuck on her arm.

Why wasn't she happier?

It wasn't a thought that Blair let escape very often, because this was what she's chosen. This was what she wanted. She'd chosen Chuck.

Chuck smiled for the cameras and glided with her toward the door, and he looked handsome, the epitome of success, and Blair knew the investors would be impressed. And then they would drink and dance and she would finally get him to herself, and having to spend the day alone would be forgotten. Blair would wrap her arms around him and whisper in his ear and maybe they would escape early and she'd finally have him all to herself.

How many times before had she told herself this. How many times had the opposite happened.

Instead of drinks and dancing, Blair ends up smiling nicely as Chuck introduces her to some Russian gentlemen and they comment on how nice she looks, then Chuck excuses himself and tells the men they can go somewhere quieter to discuss further business, and then he's gone and Blair is left standing alone.

She wants to cry.

She won't cry. Blair Waldorf will not be caught with tears running down her face, smearing her mascara, making her carefully applied makeup less than perfect. No, she will lift her chin and pretend that this is how she likes it. Alone.

Blair sips a gin and tonic and tries not to feel so lonely, and she'll never know if what happens next is because she's sad and vulnerable, or if it's because she hasn't eaten much and is drinking, or maybe it's just the strange way the universe works, but as her eyes glance across the room, she sees a familiar face, and suddenly Blair feels as if a giant gaping hole has opened in the floor and swallowed her up.

It's him.

She doesn't know why she didn't think he'd be there. It is an upper east side event after all. She should have expected to see some familiar faces, but for some reason Blair never thought of him. She didn't really allow herself to think of him. It hurt too much.

She'd left things badly, not talking to him, not even making the trip to Brooklyn to tell him in person. She'd tried to email him, somehow thinking the distance email created could make her words easier, but he never answered. And if he did, she didn't really know what to say. She loved Chuck. He had this way of consuming her and since she had her mothers company, she was finally in a place where she was strong enough to resist the way Chuck sucked her in and destroyed her over and over. She had to give it another chance because she'd never stopped loving Chuck no matter how much he hurt her. She finally felt strong enough to protect herself.

She knew what Dan would say. When he was past all the hurt, all the anger, he would ask her if loving someone who could so easily destroy her, who she had to fortify herself against, was really love. He would say that it was obsession, compulsion disguised as love, wrapped in a blanket of romance, tied up in the misleading concept of meant to be. Blair knew that what he would say could be right, but she'd made her decision and this time she was going to stick by it. So when he didn't answer her emails, she moved on.

At least she thought so. Except that it appeared her heart had different ideas because as she stared across the room, taking in every detail of Dan Humphrey, from his chiseled jawline to his slightly unkempt hair, her heart clenched in a way that said this is not done, and Blair fought back the tears that were forming.

What have I done?

She found herself moving toward him, one step at a time, and it was like she couldn't help herself. She was being drawn in by him, pulled by something she couldn't really explain. His back was to her and he was talking to some man she had never seen before, and it was like a dream as Blair stood there, not saying anything, and then he turned around, and his eyes went wide and for a moment she saw a flicker of pain pass through them, then they were shuttered and he said her name.

"Blair."

His voice is cool and Blair felt a chill run up her spine.

"Dan, I, uhhh..."

She didn't know what to say.

"I thought you were in Paris." he said evenly, his tone neutral, like he was talking to Nate or a stranger he met at a party.

"I am." Blair stuttered. "I mean, I was...we...I'm here on business."

Chuck's business. She was glad he wasn't here to witness her falling apart.

"And Chuck?"

The pain is there again, barely a flicker, and Blair thinks she could be imagining it because pain would mean Dan cares and everything else about him screams that he doesn't. He doesn't care.

"Meeting with some investors." Blair says, finally finding her voice.

"Oh." Dan says. They stand there, awkwardly, and anyone watching them would never believe they'd been lovers at one point. Blair reaches a hand out and puts it on Dan's arm and he flinches. She removes it quickly and her hand drops to her side, feeling burned.

"Dan," she starts, her voice catching a little in her throat. "I'm sorry, I..."

"Don't." he interrupts, and now she can hear the anger, and in a way Blair is glad for anger because it's better than the cool blankness he's been giving her. "You left."

He was right. She walked away.

"I miss you." Blair whispers, although she didn't really mean to say that but when the words come out of her mouth, she realizes that they are true. She misses their conversations, misses art and literature. It's not just that she doesn't have time for them, but that Chuck is more interested in empire building than culture. Even if he weren't busy, art exhibits and museums aren't his style.

"Fuck you, Blair." Dan says quietly. Then he looks past her and smiles, and Blair turns her head to see a beautiful woman walking towards them, her hair dark, her skin perfect. She walks up to Dan and puts her arm around his waist, and Blair feels her heart clench even more.

"Ciao darling," she says in a thick Italian accent. She tiptoes up and kisses Dan on the lips. "Who is your friend."

"She's not my friend." Dan says, and without saying anything else, he turns and walks away, the woman's arms still around his waist, and Blair feels for the first time that she made have made a mistake.

The second time it happens Blair realizes that she can't keep lying to herself.

Since seeing Dan at the gala she hadn't been able to think of much else. Chuck wants to return to Europe and Blair decides it's best for her to stay in New York. Better to get ready for fashion week, she said. She would fly her designer over from Paris. It would work out better for Waldorf Designs. She asks Chuck to stay. He says no.

They have a big fight.

Chuck is yelling at her, his face contorted, telling her that she promised to stand by him, that she was betting on him this time. He is telling her that he needs her close by, that investors like stable couples, that being with him is good for his company. Blair is trying to hold back the tears, trying to be strong, because Chuck has a way of cutting her down with his words and she wants to stay strong this time.

"I'm not asking for anything unfair." Blair says, her lower lip trembling a little and she feels like she's revealed how much he's upset her already.

"My investors are all in Europe Blair, and you want me to be an entire ocean away? You don't think that's asking too much?"

"What about fashion week? I can oversee production of the clothes, I can work with the models here. It's my first one, Chuck. It just makes more sense..."

"More sense?" Chuck hisses, "More sense to put Bass Industries in jeopardy for your little project?"

His words hurt but Blair suspects there were meant to. Chuck is an expert at hurting the people who have hurt him, and it whether or not he loves you doesn't matter when he goes in for the kill.

They don't come to an agreement and Chuck leaves the next day, having the driver take him to the airport in the early hours of the morning. He stays up late working and Blair manages to get out of bed in time to see him off. She's standing in the foyer in her pajamas and he's dressed in yet another of his immaculate suits.

"Good luck," she says, not really knowing what to say.

"Thanks," Chuck answers. He picks up his briefcase and grabs the handle of the carry on. Blair steps forward and places a kiss on his cheek.

"Say hi to Jack for me."

"Okay."

"See you soon."

"Yeah."

It's strange and awkward, and Blair stands and watches Chuck as the the elevator doors slide shut, his eyes never leaving hers. When he is finally gone, she still doesn't move. Just stand there, the tiles cold under her bare feet, hugging herself except that Blair isn't cold. And then she's struck with a sudden realization.

It's over.

Just like that, she and Chuck are over. He's not coming back. She knows this. And she's not going back to Europe. They are officially on two different continents, and even though no official decision has been made, no big break up party has been thrown, Blair knows that this is the beginning of the end of their saga. Chuck and Blair, who began with a spark in the back of a limo, when she'd drunkenly returned his kiss and started what would feel like the greatest love affair of her life, a relationship that was tempestuous, formidable, full of insults and injury, and passion like she'd never known before, was over. Blair was past the obsession, past the compulsion she used to feel around him. She was done.

Dorota finds her still standing there and gently puts her arm around Blair's shoulder. She guides her back to her bedroom and tucks her in.

"Mr. Chuck is gone?" Dorota asks. Blair nods yes. She is overcome with sadness, a deep sense of mourning, but the source isn't what she'd expected. Instead of being sad that the great love of her life is over, she's sad that it had ever started again. She's sad that she made a choice six months ago that led her down that path. She's sad that she couldn't have seen things so clearly before. She didn't still love Chuck, she loved what they could have been. She loved the idea of herself with him. She loved the Blair Waldorf, woman of prestige and power, that she thought she could become next to him. Instead she became what she always did when she was with Chuck. Someone who would never be equal to him. Someone whose needs he would never respect.

Blair cries that night, cries for everything she's lost and all her mistakes. Then she gets up in the morning, yells at Dorota to bring her something for her puffy eyes, puts on a simple black dress and her favorite black shoes, and heads to work.

The third time it happens, Blair is at work when Nate texts her.

best to stay off the internets today

Blair texts him back, something about dictating the taste of the fashion world doesn't leave her time to surf the web. Then she goes back to talking to the events planner for fashion week. Whatever is going on isn't nearly as important as Waldorf Designs making a good impression the first year they are being steered by the founder's daughter.

She might never have seen anything except that Blair decides she's going to take a break and grab lunch at the deli downstairs. She needs to stretch her legs and get out from behind her desk for a while. She's walking quickly down the hall when she hears it. A familiar giggle.

Serena.

Blair stops and turns toward the cubicles lining the walkway. There are several employees, paid minions, gathered around one of their iPhones watching something. Blair walks up behind them and tries to peer over their shoulders to see what has captivated them, making a mental note to consider banning all personal phones in the workplace.

"I can't believe it." a girl says.

"She's such a hot mess," says a guy Blair recognizes as part of their accounting team. She's glad she wearing heels today because she just has to stretch a little to see...

Serena. Blair would have known that giggle anywhere. She's on a bar, having sex with someone, her eyes closed, slack jawed, her hands gripping thick, curly hair and Blair goes cold as she realizes she recognizes the man fucking Serena Van Der Woodsen. It's not some celebrity or athlete or b-list druggy.

It's Dan.

Blair can't move. She frozen as she stares at Dan fucking Serena, and then she realizes that she recognizes where they are. It's the Shepherds. It's their divorce party.

She's not sure how she gets out of there. Everything is a blur and Blair can only feel betrayal and cold anger. She doesn't get lunch, just turns and heads back to her office, back to the protection of her heavy wooden desk, back to a place where she actually has some control, because everything else feels ripped away from her.

Why does this hurt so much?

Blair is shaking and she barks out to her assistant to cancel all her appointments for the day, because she's pretty sure she's going to collapse into a heap on the floor any moment. Blair is strong, but this feels like it's going to destroy her to her very core.

Dan cheated. With Serena.

Blair hates Serena all over again, and she's not sure when her best friend became so willing to hurt her. She's not sure they had ever been friend in the first place.

Her hands are shaking and she balls them into fists and then opens them again, and she wants to pound them on the wooden desk until they hurt because she needs to feel something right now, to hurt herself physically so she can dull the pain inside. She doesn't because Blair is still Queen B, ruler of Waldorf Designs, and she knows she cannot show her employees that Blair is also a hurt little girl who just wants the pain to go away.

She sits there for a long time, body tense, trying to find a way to calm down, and then it comes to her. It's time to give Dan the fucking closure he deserves. Blair presses the intercom and barks at her assistant,

"Call the car. I'm going to Brooklyn."

When the car pulls up outside the loft Blair is struck with a strange sense of nostalgia that pushes through all the pain and anger. Here she is again, in Brooklyn, a place she thought she'd left behind when she stood in front of Chuck and begged for his love. How quickly things can change.

Blair tells the driver to wait, then she steps out of the car and heads toward the building, her pace quick and determined, heels clicking angrily on the pavement. When she arrives at the door of the loft, she hesitates then pushes her way through, wondering if Dan ever locks it, and how he hasn't been robbed yet. Another wave of nostalgia hits her, and she wonders how many times she's come through this door, seeking solace, safety, needing Dan to tell her its going to be okay. He promised he would be there for her. Always. How did fucking Serena fit into that promise.

"Blair! What the hell?"

Dan's voice is full of surprise. He's standing in the doorway of his office dressed in jeans and a plain t-shirt,looking rumpled, and Blair thinks he must have been working and came out to see who was barging through the loft door.

"Fuck you, Dan Humphrey." Blair says forcefully and now the tears actually do start and she barely feels that her cheeks are wet.

"What...what did I do?"

"Serena. Of all people, you had to fuck Serena."

Dan's face goes from confused to shocked and she realizes he has no idea that his escapades with S. have been made public. Then he looks angry, his eyes narrowing.

"You're one to talk, Blair. Fuck you too, for walking away from me, for choosing Chuck."

"At least I didn't fuck him."

"No, you left me, never even talked to me, didn't even give me the respect to explain to me in person. I just had one moment of meaningless sex."

With Serena.

Dan was closer now, narrowing the distance between them with just a few steps and Blair realizes she hasn't been this close to him since returning from Europe. She feels something bubbling up from behind her anger, something primal.

"I emailed you. You never answered them."

"Email?" Dan asks. "Really, Blair. I told you I loved you. Doesn't that deserve at least an in-person break-up."

Loved. Past tense.

"It's...it's complicated."

She hadn't expected this. She'd wanted to arrive at the loft and tear Dan to pieces, making him pay for sleeping with Serena, for cheating on Blair, but now the tables were turned and Blair was being forced to see how her actions had affected him. Part of her wanted to turn and run because she didn't want to deal with how much she'd hurt him. But she didn't. Blair had run away once and this time she was staying, no matter what.

"How complicated can it be?" Dan asked forcefully. "I thought you were my friend. I thought you at least cared about me. But you left without even giving me the courtesy of an explanation in person. Just an email, like I'm some high school dalliance you have to get rid of. Like I was nothing to you. But I guess I was."

Blair blinks. Dan thinks he was nothing to her. He's so wrong. He was everything to her, except she got confused and turned around, and didn't really know that at the time. She takes a deep, shaking breath and she notices the way he smells, like soap and something else, and it's so familiar and it reminds her of all the times she sat on his couch, curled next to him, her cheek resting on the soft flannel of his shirt.

No. She will not be weak.

"At least I didn't sleep with your best friend." Blair spits out, not answering to anything Dan is saying, as if ignoring it can make what she's done go away. She swallows because he's so close. She is aching now, and it's the familiar feeling of wanting, and she doesn't want to feel this way, so she is hiding it behind anger.

"You're right." Dan says, his voice suddenly tired. "There's an explanation for what happened, but that still won't change the fact that yes, I did sleep with Serena. But I'm not sure why that matters now. You left me. You chose Chuck. Why does it matter?"

Blair stares at Dan, suddenly struck mute, because he's right. Why is she here when it's over between them. Why does this hurt so much.

Because she loves him.

She loves him.

"Goddammit Blair, why can't you just leave me alone?" Dan spits out suddenly and she realizes that he is grasping for control as much as she is, sees some sort of darkness pass through his eyes, and then he is closing the distance between them and his arms go around her waist, pulling her roughly against him, and his mouth comes down and kisses her.

It's like white light behind her eyes when his mouth is on hers, and she opens up and deepens the kiss and feels him moan something against her lips, and she thinks it's her name. All of Blair's anger morphs into intense desire that rips through her, and her hands are fumbling to undo the buttons on his shirt, desperate to find his skin, and they are still kissing, tongues tangling, Dan sucking on her bottom lip in that way he does that used to drive her wild, and Blair has missed this.

Coherent thoughts are completely gone as Dan pulls at her tights, pulls down her lacy white panties, and lowers her down to the ground, his mouth barely leaving hers for even a second, and Blair can't stop moaning with his ever touch, making 'mmmmm' sounds against his lips, then he breaks away from her and there is space between them as he unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down. Then he is back, pushing her dress up round her waist, biting at her clavicle, tasting her skin, and she bites him back on the shoulder and likes the way she makes him gasp. Blair parts her legs and he settles between them, then he is inside her a Blair moans because it's so good and wraps her legs around his waist.

"Fuck you, Blair." Dan says, looking down at her.

She wants to tell him to fuck off too, that cheating on him with Serena was the ultimate insult, to tell him that loving her didn't count when you do shit like that, but instead Blair growls into Dan's ear and tells him to move. Blair wants him to stop insulting her and just fuck her, because she needs to come, to feel the only release she can get from her torment right now, and only Dan can do that for her.

He does and it's not long before Blair closes her eyes and give into the spread of that melting feeling that leads to letting go, letting herself fall into the abyss, and she shudders and comes harder than she has in a long time. And his name is on her lips, although she wishes it wasn't, and she tells herself that it means nothing although she actually knows this moment means everything.

Because she loves him.

When they are done and Dan has rolled off her, and Blair has managed to get her clothes mostly back on, she is still reeling from sex and the fact that she realized that she had never stopped loving him. It's a terrible understanding she's reached in that moment, fucking Dan Humphrey on the floor of his loft, because she realizes that however she feels doesn't matter. Loving him isn't enough, just like loving Chuck wasn't enough, but in a different way. She and Dan have gone past the point of no return, they have hurt each other too much, and love can't heal that deep of a wound.

"Do you want to talk?" Dan asks. She wonders what he would talk about. Serena? Fucking his ex who is in a relationship with someone else, making her just as much of a cheater as he is? The way they had left things before? Was there actually anything to talk about.

Blair runs a hand through her hair hoping she can smooth it enough to not look entirely debased, although she knows her lips are swollen and she can still feel the aftershocks of her orgasm.

"No." she answers. There is nothing to talk about.

Blair leaves, her legs feeling shaky, her hand trembling as she opens to door to the town car. She tells the driver to head back to Manhattan and settles into the seat thinking that her trip to Brooklyn didn't go exactly as planned.

Now she stands in the sunshine, dazed and staring into space Her phone is on the table next to the photos and on it is a text from Nate.

He's leaving. Going to California.

Nate was the person Blair had gone to when she realized how messed up things had been. He was her first love and now one of her dearest friends, and he was a good guy who let her cry on his shoulder. After all, since Serena had betrayed her, Nate was all Blair had left.

"I'm so stupid." Blair had said as she sat, twisting her hands in her lap, eyes shining with tears.

"You're not stupid." Nate said. "You just had to figure things out. Sometimes that takes a while, and sometimes it takes making the wrong decisions."

He was right.

Blair had decided to make the right ones after that. She set her alarm for 3 am the next morning and got onto the phone with Chuck and told him it was over. He was angry, and part of Blair couldn't blame him because it had been over with them so many times before only to start again, but this time she was truly done. Chuck told her that he wouldn't take her back again, his resentment almost oozing through the phone, that there were plenty of women out there who were dying to take her place by his side, that he was Chuck Bass. Blair just sighed. He was right. He would replace her quickly, like he always did, and maybe he would actually find someone who loved him better than Blair had. Chuck saw it as an ending but Blair saw it as finally letting him go. His person was out there, it just wasn't Blair.

Then she went to work. Blair Waldorf was finally alone. There was no Chuck, no Louie, no Dan to prop her up. She needed time. Time to regroup. Time to figure out how to fix what had happened with Dan. Time to be herself. So she took it. Blair finally worked on becoming the powerful woman he mother always thought she would be, the one who Blair had always felt was somewhere insider her waiting to be set free.

She had time. At least she thought she did, until Nate called her and told her that a studio in L.A. was asking Dan to come work for them, but Nate assured her that there was too much in New York for Dan to pack up and leave.

Now it turned out that Nate was wrong. He was going.

Blair swallows and tries to slow the thoughts racing through her head. Her assistant is still staring at her, holding the tablet, waiting to take notes and Blair snaps at her.

"What are you looking at?"

Her boss losing it. Her boss' heart is breaking right there and then. Maybe that was what she was looking at. Maybe.

Blair shakes her head.

Snap out of it Waldorf.

Dan is leaving.

No.

Then she knows what she has to do.

"Call the car around and tell the designer I'll get back to him tomorrow. I'm done for today." Blair snaps again. Her assistant says 'okay' and scurries away quickly. Blair picks up her phone and dials Nate.

"Blair, I'm sorry." he says when he answers the phone. Blair feels the tears start to well up as she hears his voice, warm and apologetic.

"When is he going?" she asks.

"Today."

Blair's heart clenches, hurts.

"No."

no please no please no

"They want him right away."

She feels irrationally angry, that Dan is leaving town and she doesn't even get a phone call, but then Blair thinks there is no reason for him to call her. They are done. She is nothing to him anymore. But still, she hasn't been given a chance to even try to get him back.

"Where is he?" Blair asks Nate.

"I think the loft, but he's heading to JFK soon."

There's still time. Blair says goodbye to Nate and hangs up then rushes down the hallway toward the elevator. There's still time.

It's a long drive to Brooklyn.

When Blair arrives at the loft the first thing she sees are Dan's bags sitting in the hallway and her chest hurts again. He's really leaving. The bags make it too real.

"Blair, what are you doing here?" Dan asks when he opens the door and finds her standing there, her hair a mess, breathing hard from running up the stairs, and she doesn't even catch her breath before she blurts out,

"I love you."

In a split second Dan's face changes, from surprise to anger to nothing. He doesn't respond right away, just stands there, looking at her, and Blair is holding her breath because she doesn't know what's coming next.

"Why now?" he finally says bitterly. "I'm finally breaking free of this place and the people, and you come here now and tell me this?"

Blair wants to tell him she's sorry. Wants to tell him that she's wasted a year of her life because she was afraid and misguided, but she can't say anything. She can only watch him, and with his words she feels her heart start to break again.

"I loved you so much Blair." Dan continues. "I loved you in the way that people don't recover from easily, and now I have a chance to begin again and you come here and say this, say what I wanted from you a year ago. Well fuck you Blair Waldorf."

"I'm sorry." Blair manages to squeak out. It's the only thing she has left. She could tell him about how she'd deluded herself into thinking Chuck was what she needed, how she was afraid of Dan consuming her, that she actually didn't know what love really was until she'd left him, but none of it mattered now.

She has loved and has lost. She has lost eveything.

It was over.

"I'm sorry." Blair says again and she closes the distance between them and brings up her hand to touch Dan's face and she sees him flinch as her fingers trace along his jaw, then she cups it and pulls him forward and places a single kiss on his mouth, giving him all her sadness and love at that moment, and maybe this will make him understand that she has a million regrets and he is her biggest. She breaks apart from him then turns around and walks out of the loft.

This is her fate.

Blair reaches the sidewalk before the tears start to fall and later she will feel like it's a sign of maturity that she didn't break down in front of Dan, that she was able to walk away with the dignity she had always wanted. She sags against the town car and wipes the tears from her cheeks and thinks she should probably call in to the office tomorrow too because it's going to be a rough night, and she can't get home fast enough where she can crawl into bed and Dorota can bring her tea and rub her back.

Blair is about to get into the town car when she hears her name.

She freezes.

It's him.

Dan.

"BLAIR!"

He yells her name again and this time she turns around and he's reached her and has stopped, breathing hard, and his hands are reaching out for hers, holding them, and his palms feel damp. Dan is looking at her and this time his face is different. The coldness is gone, and his eyes are full of pain and fear and something else, which she recognizes when he gasps,

"I love you, Blair. I love you."

They are full of love.

Dan is pulling her into his arms and she's crushed against his chest and then he's kissing her and Blair thinks it might be a dream, conjured up by her desperate subconscious, except it all feels too real.

"I never stopped loving you." Dan is saying. "What happened was shit, and I never stopped loving you, I don't think I ever would have."

He's kissing her cheek and her eyebrow and her nose and Blair realizes that she's laughing. It feels good.

"Really?" she asks, smiling up at him, feeling like she is going to burst with happiness, and it was amazing considering that seconds ago her future was looking bleak.

"Really." Dan smiles, his face warm and full of love.

It all starts from there. The past is just a prologue. There are a lot of things to be decided, but Blair knows that one decision has already been made. Dan his hers and she is his. No matter what happens from now on, they will move forward together in life. A team.

The End