Chapter 7

Serena steps out of the cab, slipping the cabbie a twenty. The Queens #3 Police Department isn't decrepit, but the area in which it's situated has seen better days of government funding. She walks on the cracked and weed filled sidewalk into the police station, shivering a little bit in trepidation. It's relatively warm for winter in New York, but the low afternoon sun is quickly melting into darkness as Serena enters the police station. A police man greets her stiffly as she walks in at the grey front desk. Serena blinks her eyes a bit at the harsh fluorescent lighting.

"I'm looking for Police Chief Brown."

He gives her a cold, hard gaze from under his eyebrows. Serena finally notices the silver tag on his uniform alerting her to the presence of the very man she was looking for. He speaks, "I don't approve of this at all. The boy is awaiting a trial, and this is against protocol. If you wanted it this bad, you could've just gotten the Bass boy to pay up bail and visit him on your own damn time and safety."

Serena bites her lip. "That may be true, but let me be the judge of my own safety. And he doesn't want anyone to pay bail." She drops her gaze to the grey carpeted floor. Truth is, she isn't sure of what she's doing. She has no idea why Nate doesn't want to go home before his trial. Hell, she has no idea who he is at all. More than that, she's sneaking around her boyfriend's back, conspiring to visit her kidnapper. It doesn't make sense, but she needs to see Nate. She has to get answers from her old friend and lover.

The police chief sighs and mutters under his breath, "If it wasn't for Bart's son..." He motions for her to follow him. She silently follows him, instantly curious as to what favor he owes Bart Bass. Chuck had simply told her that he could pull strings with the chief when she asked to see Nate while he awaiting trial, and she hadn't wanted to ask any more questions than that. She glances up to realize she's being stared at by a man sitting in an office through the clear glass window. He' s neither tall nor short, fat or skinny, or suited up as a policeman. He turns away, turning his attention to a young officer speaking at his side.

"Chief Brown?" she asks tentatively. He grunts in reply.

"Who is that man in the office? He isn't in uniform." The man had already averted his gaze, but there was something there that intrigues her.

"Who? Oh. Senior detective Kwychowski. In charge of all of the junior detectives."

"Detectives as in like Sherlock Holmes?" she cracks, emitting a light chuckle, trying to make a half-hearted joke.

"Detectives are normal officers that also have the authority to "snoop" for evidence and find the suspect." He misses her joke entirely, and Serena rolls her eyes. He stops and turns around as they reach a large metal-barred cell door. An officer sits in a booth next to it, and she can see the cells that lined the small hallway.

"Chief Brown? Is she..." His voice trails off as he stares, eyebrows raised, at Serena.

"I know it's not protocol. Just let her in." Brown stares piercingly at the man.

The poor officer stutters, "But she's...and his court appointment is in..."

"Do it. Open the door, and give me the key into his cell." Brown's voice holds no question. The officer looks at Serena, flicking his eyes between her and Brown. He slowly pushes the button. There's a beeping noise, and the gate opens. He takes the key around his neck and unlocks a cabinet, where he takes out another much larger key. Still hesitant, he leans over and gives it to his police chief.

The chief takes Serena by the arm and leads her in. He glances at the key. "Number 6. Here it is." They stop in front of cell #6. Serena's breath stops. Nate appears to be sleeping, but not lying down on the ragged cot. Instead, he's sitting on it, leaning against the wall with his head tilted back, eyes closed. He still wears his grey woolen coat with a glossy, out-of-place Dior tuxedo that he hasn't changed out of since the party. The skin over the fine bones of his face is pinched, even in sleep, in an expression that she knows he wears when stressed.

Police Chief Brown interrupts her reverie. "I'm going to leave the cell door open. Don't you close it, now. I will be waiting right outside the main gate. If I hear anything, I'm coming right over. Don't say anything stupid; don't do anything stupid," he says, under his breath. "I'm trusting you."

Serena nods briefly. Her thoughts are jumbled, completely incoherent. She turns away from the chief, focusing entirely on Nate. She doesn't know what she planned to say to him. All thoughts turn to dust as she looks at him, then she averts her eyes away. She can't take the image of him sitting in a jail cell burned in her skull.

Chief Brown unlocks the cell door, easing it open quietly, looking at her as he makes sure the door is as wide as it can go. He nods, stepping slowly away, and Serena slips inside, making sure her Louboutins don't clack against the cement. She approaches him, not cautiously, she notes. She doesn't feel as scared as she should be. But she is frightened of the man sleeping in front of her, but she has a sneaking suspicion it's only because of what he might tell her.

"Nate." Her voice doesn't waver. His eyelids also do not waver.

"Nate." She raises her voice slightly. She feels her eyes start to water.

"Nate!" Her voice cracks, and a tear spills out. She just wants to know why.

He jerks at the last raised utterance of his name, eyes flying open. She holds back a wild sob as she catches sight of his eyes. She recognizes deep fear and hopelessness, but the rest is a mystery, even to her, a member of the non-judging breakfast club. His eyes focus on her, his entire state of mind still distilled in his eyes. But it's now a controlled expression, no longer completely naked.

It's silent for a few moments more as Nate tries to regulate his breathing. He had spent the first night pacing, unable to get comfortable in the cot. Then he fell asleep during the day, too tired to care. He sat up numerous times, running his hands through his hair before he gave up any pretense of sleeping and instead just sat there. He didn't try again to fall asleep the following night or the following half day either. But then he finally slumped, completely drained, against the wall. He had been sleeping for a scant two hours, a deep, heavy sleep. Serena's voice, unmistakeable, had jerked him into reality, and his eyes had flown open.

"Serena?" His vision is blurry from sleep, and his groggy limbs aren't ready to move just yet. He shifts awkwardly, pushing his aching back further up the concrete wall. In fact, he isn't really sure who's in front of him. He recognizes it, or thinks he recognizes it. He blinks and rubs the fatigue from his eyes. Perhaps it's just a desperate reflection of who he wants to be with at that second. Any second of his life, really. He blinks a couple of times more.

Serena draws in breath raggedly, trying to calm down and breathe. She scrubs her tears away, but only ends up shedding more as Nate struggles to awaken completely as he says her name questioningly. Frustration oozes from her tightly clenched hands. Their old ease, their rapport, gone. For what? That's what she wants to know. From him personally.

Nate's vision finally clears after a few seconds, and he glances up. He makes a strangled noise as he realizes it's exactly who he initially thought it was. He stares into her blue eyes that so match his and laboriously draws himself to full height. He sees the redness of her eyes, the tears that still threaten to spill. He balls up his fists, berating himself over and over again for her pain. He doesn't know if he should step closer to her.

Serena looks up at him. She unconsciously expects him to look different, to look evil or grotesque to her now that his true intention and nature is revealed. She wants him to look different, but his high cheekbones and tousled hair are angelic, like always, even tired and worried like she can tell he is. But she knows it's a facade that hides something ugly underneath, that had harmed her.

"Tell me why." The whisper floats in the air before them, hovering. Nate looks into Serena's eyes without faltering. She wonders how he can stare so unabashedly at her without looking away in shame. The Nate she knew could not tell a lie, but the look in his eye is enough to confirm that he doesn't think what he did is wrong. And she so wants to believe him, but she cannot. He is irrevocably guilty, and she can't forgive all the evidence against him. She raises an outstretched hand to slap away the face that had the gall to look at her intensely.

Nate doesn't even look twice at her raised hand. "Are you okay? Serena, the last time I saw you, I thought you were dying."

Serena makes a strangled sound. "Don't act like you care, Nate. Just tell me why." She shouts it at him, furious. "Tell me why you decided to throw away the chance that I might've chosen you over Dan, why you threw away our friendship, our trust. Dammit, Nate!" She turns from him, facing the wall.

She feels his hand fetter her wrist. Serena whirls around frantically, mouth forming the words that would bring officers running at her rescue but catches sight of Nate's eyes. Desperation and bafflingly, fright clouds his crystal clear eyes, and they are both scared.

"Serena. Please listen to me. I'm begging you." He slips his hand from her wrist to her hand, clasping it tightly. She doesn't think she has the energy to pull away. "I didn't drug or kidnap you."

She meets his eyes incredulously. "Nate. Chuck told me all of the evidence that was found against you. His lawyer can't find a single thing wrong with it. There were eyewitnesses, Nate! Fingerprints! Don't even try to deny anything. I can listen to apologies, but I can't listen to lies."

Nate looks deep into her eyes. "Just hear me out. Please. You've known me forever, Serena. Please tell me that there's some part of you that doesn't believe that I did that to you." He squeezes her hand, his expression desperate.

Serena stands there a moment more. Then she slowly lowers her chin, once, in a nod, never breaking eye contact, with trepidation. Nate struggles not to make his exhalation of relief audible before starting.

"That night, after you sent that text that you were going to choose between Dan and I, I was beyond nervous at the party. I expected you to choose Dan. But I couldn't help hoping." He breaks his glance here, staring down at his feet.

Serena can't help but squeeze his hand back from where he holds hers. She curses herself. Stop. He's not your friend anymore. She pulls her hand away. But she soon becomes distracted as she processes his words.

"Nate?"

He looks up, hope shimmering faintly in his eyes, but she stares resolutely and coldly, she hopes, into his eyes. "You really can just stand there, looking into my eyes, and lie to me. Your oldest friend. I never texted you anything before the party." She glares back at him, expecting a response, anger creasing her brow.

Nate furrows his brows in confusion as well. "I'm not lying! You have to remember. It was in the afternoon.. It said, 'I'll choose tonight at the party.' I called Dan to see if he got the same one and he did."

Alarmed, Serena says, "I didn't send any text messages to you or Dan. And my phone..." She pats her pockets a couple of times before going into her bag and drawing out her phone. "This is my phone for sure."

"Call Dan and ask if he got the text from you, if you don't believe me." Serena bites her lip but selects Dan's number and dials. She sees and attempts to ignore the look of concealed hurt on Nate's face.

"Hey, Dan."

"Hey, Jen-what-Serena? Wait, why do you have Jenny's phone?" His voice is permeated with confusion. "I know you just got your phone back from the police this morning, but. . ."

'Dan, what are you talking about?"

Nate's eyes narrows at Serena"s perplexed expression. "What's going on?" he whispers.

Grateful that he whispered, Serena shakes her head at him and puts her attention back on Dan. "I'm calling from my cell phone. Why would you think I have Jenny's phone?"

"It's showing up as Jenny's caller ID. Let me call your contact number just to make sure. Oh, wait, did you need something? What's up?"

"Um, I . . . I have a question I wanted to ask you . . . did I text you before the party? That night?" There is an awkward silence.

"Uh, yeah." Another pause. "You told me you would choose that night. Between...yeah."

"Oh. . . okay. Right, sorry. I know, random question. So anyway, just call my number to make sure it works. I'll call you back if I don't get anything." She hangs up, and Serena lowers her cell phone, rolling her eyes as she sees Nate's impatience.

"He got the same text. And apparently when I called Dan, it showed up as Jenny in the caller ID. He's going to call my number to make sure his contacts didn't get mixed up. Not a big deal, probably just something wrong with his cell phone."

"So, are you sure you didn't send the text?" His voice is quizzical.

"I'm pretty sure I would remember if I did. I don't exactly have amnesia from all those drugs, Nate. You would know." He winces at the barb.

"Serena, I'm trying to tell you, I didn't do it. I would never do something like that, least of all to one of best friends. Why can't you see that?"

She glares into his eyes."Because there is nothing, no proof, to suggest otherwise."

"I'm telling you otherwise, Serena! Is it too much to ask for you, this once, to trust me?" Nate says in a pained voice.

Serena averts her eyes. She can't bring herself to do what he wishes.

Nate runs a hand through his disheveled hair and tired face, then drops his hand as if it weighed as much as a dumbbell. "Somebody who had blonde hair and the same mask and dress came up and kissed me. It wasn't you, I could tell. I was close enough to Dan to see that that another girl dressed like you kissed him too. I went outside, and I saw you with your mask off, eyes closed, in a taxi cab with the fake Serena." He squeezes his eyes for a brief moment but continues. "The cabbie lost your cab on a huge street in the middle of Queens. I got out and asked around for you. I went around like that for two hours."

Serena wants to believe him, but it would be such a fantastical leap of faith. Her eyes well up, and she turns her head away. Nate doesn't spare a glance for her. He expects it. He has no more hope that she would believe him. But nobody can say he didn't try. He continues.

"Somebody gave me an envelope. It had the address of the building you were found in and a piece of your dress. I went to the building and your dress was lying there, shredded. I ran upstairs, and I found another piece of your dress. I looked through every room on that floor until I found you." Nate's jaw clenches as he remembers how for one terrible moment how deathly pale Serena was.

"Your skin was so cold, Serena." He meets her eyes. "I thought you were dead. I was about to call 911, but I heard something from the bathroom. I went to go check, but the window was open and there was stairs on the outside of the building. I looked everywhere, but the real kidnapper wasn't there. Then I went back to check on you, and the rest you know."

There is a clearing of the tautness in the air as they look into each other's eyes. Blue on blue. They face each other, two bodies wired with tension. Nate is the first to break eye contact. He drops his eyes, defeated. He's told his side of the story numerous times, but it isn't his truth, it is the truth. He feels he can't keep up the effort needed to convince everyone of the truth. He won't just accept his fate, but he has no idea what else to do. A damned good lawyer wouldn't be able to turn the condemning finger of evidence in his favor.

Serena catches a glimpse of his placid expression as he tilts his head downward for his condemnation. It is devoid of any emotion, but she knows him all too well. It' s something better described as hopeless. She can't bear it anymore. This is Nate, she repeats over and over again. It isn't possible, why can't you see that? She lifts a hand, and he flinches, waiting. But instead, Serena touches his right hand and grasps it firmly. He looks up, taken aback.

"I believe you," she says. Her words are confident. He squeezes her hand hard and a touch of a smile ghosts his lips.

Serena pulls him into a hug, relishing his warmth in the cold cell. He wraps his arms around her and they relax into each other, fitting together like nothing had happened, and just as they did when they were 5 years old, 12 years old, 18 years old, and every year in between.

"Thank you," he whispers into her shoulder.

"I should've never doubted you," she breathes back. Serena releases the hug, though she barely pulls an inch back. "You don't belong in this jail. I'm going to get you out of here. I promise." Her voice trails off as they both become conscious of how close they are to each other, still pressed together from the hug, and Nate can feel her cool breath on his mouth as she talks. They freeze. They look at each other's lips and both unconsciously lean in infinitesimally.

Serena wants to kiss away the strain that is still visible on Nate's face. She feels electric in his presence, her skin burning where his hands still encircle her waist. Then she thinks of Dan, of his slow burn.

Nate sees her eyes darken, and they jerk away at the same time, breaking contact. Her skin feels cold where the shadow of his touch still lingers, but there are still sparks as they continue eye contact.

"Serena . . ," Nate says in a low tone. Serena bites her lip. "I should probably go. I need to get Blair and Chuck onboard. I know they'll believe you once I tell them the truth. I'll visit tomorrow, okay? I'm not abandoning you here." She almost turns to go, then remembers something. "Nate, why don't you let Chuck pay your bail? I know he wants to, but he was expecting you to call him, at least. Come home, out of this mess."

Nate gives a light shake of his head before saying, "I know he would've, but I was just being stupid these past few days, I think. I kept hoping there would be something that turned up that would've cleared my name instantly, without dealing with my mom and her lawyers, the media, and Gossip Girl tailing me around. Then I could just walk out like none of this had ever happened."

Serena's eyes are determined. "We'll get you out of here, Nate. Don't worry."

Nate nods, replacing his intense expression with a light smile curving his mouth. "I'll try to make friends with the other inmates in the meantime."

Serena gives a light laugh and punches his arm, a faint smile on her lips. "Bye Nate." She gives him one last smile, lingering for a couple seconds more before she walks, heels clicking a little too ominously against the silence of the cell. Nate looks on, mood already lifted from Serena's forgiveness, drinking in the sight of her before she disappears completely from view, before he gives a short sigh of exhaustion and drops onto the bed, drained.

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed the NS scene-I know there are quite a few Derena shippers, but still, leave a review, and tell me what you think!