Title: Nine Months
Summary: She shoved the offending white stick in the draw with the rest of them. Stupid, broken test.
Disclaimer: This is officially disclaimed.
Author Note: I was thinking about how tormented Chuck would be if Blair were pregnant, Edward Cullen-esque style, and this was born. Enjoy. x
Rich.
Uptight.
Complete bitch.
Those were all words her classmates used to describe her.
Expecting.
Knocked up.
Pregnant.
Those words best describe her now.
She shoved the offending white stick in the draw with the rest of them.
Stupid, broken test.
It had started five months ago. In truth, it had started five years ago, on the eve of her seventeenth birthday, and probably before that too.
He had started the night at the end-of-exam party flirting with some slut, with bleached blonde hair and legs up to there. Yale's version of Legally Blonde.
They had ended the night on his room, the zipper on her dress broken, the buttons of his shirt missing.
Lust.
Passion.
Desire.
She never thought it would lead to this.
It had lasted four months, four perfect months.
Joy.
Happiness.
Love.
With the fifth month, it soon ended.
He had ended it with her. Though she had pushed him to it with her hurt-filled words and her cutting snipes, her refusal to be with him in public, her constant mood swings.
It had nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with her out-of-control hormones.
She was not pregnant.
She was pregnant.
Her bras were too small, not that she was complaining, but so were every other piece of clothing.
She was still waiting for the warm sensation between her legs to come, ruining her panties. Before she had seen it as a nuisance, now she would have given anything for it.
Every morning she felt the same stirring in the pit of her stomach.
Nerves.
Butterflies.
Morning sickness.
Not long after, she was bent over her porcelain bowl. It didn't cancel out her weight gain like she hoped. She continued to grow bigger and bigger and bigger, her stomach swelling in her own warped mind.
She couldn't deny it any longer when her graduation dress wouldn't do all the way up, when she smiled at the crowds and didn't feel pride but nausea.
When she caught herself, just sitting there, twirling a piece of hair with one hand, cradling her stomach with another.
White.
Sterile.
Death.
She didn't want to be here, but she had to.
"Do you have an appointment?"
Pity.
Distain.
Judgment.
She avoided the receptionist's eyes. "No, no I don't."
Funny, she always thought she'd be stronger than this.
Shock.
Disbelief.
Anger?
She told him, she had to, she couldn't do this alone.
He didn't say anything. He seemed angry. With himself, not her.
He pulled her close to him and she relaxed into his arms. She felt like a little girl again, when her father would comfort her when she was upset about being overlooked for Serena, or because Nate had forgotten something again.
He kissed her forehead. "Are you planning on keeping it?"
The moment was over, she reeled away from him. "Of course I am," she told him coldly.
She was only ten weeks, but this baby was a part of her now.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Don't be. I almost did, but I couldn't."
"I'll be there for you."
"I know."
Blair squeezed her eyes shut as the nurse rubbed the gel over her stomach and gasped.
Cold.
Icy.
Wonderful.
She looked at the screen, eyes huge with wonder at the living, breathing thing inside of her.
She looked round at Chuck, but he wasn't staring at the monitor, he had his eyes firmly fixed on her.
Beautiful.
Blushing.
Glowing.
They got married in secret. Nobody there but Eric, his best man, and Hannah, her friend from Yale and perhaps her best friend. She doesn't see Serena much anymore, people had warned them that they would grow apart.
They are the only ones that know just why they are getting married so quickly. The pregnancy isn't common knowledge. Yet.
She tells Eric to tell everyone, starting with Serena, who will be the most annoyed that she wasn't the first to know, and ending with her mother, because she needed to be as far away as possible when the proverbial hit the fan.
Chuck whisked her away on his private jet, not telling anyone, not even her, where they were going.
They didn't need to deal with everyone quite yet.
She's become one of those women who talk to their bump. She enjoys the company, it's nice not to feel lonely.
It's not only the loneliness that has been banished but the mistrust, the past, everything that has stopped them being together before.
They fall in love all over again.
A nudge.
A jolt.
A kick.
It sends shockwaves through her stomach; it sends a pleasant tingle up and down her spine.
A gasp.
A flutter.
A smile.
She grabs Chuck's hand so he can feel it too; so he can feel how she feels.
His eyes widen as she places his hand on her bump and she realises he's never touched her there before. Another kick. He freezes and pulls his hand away.
She frowns at his retreating back.
She traced a line up and down her stomach. Will there be a scar? She wanted a natural birth, in a hospital of course and with as many drugs as possible, but he wouldn't allow it. He got upset and she got tired of the arguing.
She gives in.
It's almost sweet how he's behaving.
Gentle.
Caring.
Tender.
But she finds everything and everyone annoying right now.
He puts up with it.
He puts up with the joyful tears one minute to the bitchy comments that get worse and worse until she ends up screaming that she hates him.
He just envelopes her in a hug, letting her sob into his shirt.
She loves him for it.
She hates him for it.
Sometimes she just wishes he would shout right back at her, their verbal slinging matches escalating higher and higher as they did when they were kids.
But he treats her like a doll.
Fragile.
Delicate.
Breakable.
The baby has changed everything. For better, for worse.
The baby came early. Before the date of her C-section at least. They barely made it to the hospital; there was no time for drugs.
Pain.
Excruciating.
Never-ending.
She thought it would never end. She could see this was hurting him as much as it was hurting her but he wouldn't leave her side.
One final push. Her nails broke the skin of his hand.
End.
Beginning.
Panting.
It's over. It's over. It's over.
Crying.
Laughing.
Overwhelming.
She brought her child close to her chest and kissed the top of their head. Her eyes search for his and she held the child out to him imploringly. He takes the baby, their baby, hesitantly.
She sees it in his eyes; he feels the same as she does.
Whole.
Together.
A family.