AN: Where do I even begin to begin? Ok so, I've had this chapter written for the better part of ... I wanna say about 16 months? I've also gotten well into if not finished the chapter following it. The one following I was lagging and tweaking for a while... refusing to post this one until I was 100% satisfied with that one.
Then... this year started... and some of the things I'd written while away started looking uncomfortably similar to what I was seeing on the tele. So then I was faced with this conundrum... do I post this? Is it now insensitive? Triggering? Scary?
Then... the virus ... and well now here we are... I woke up one morning last week and just decided - you know what? - I don't know where any of us is going to be weeks, let alone months from now and the time for nit-picking this thing well it's long gone. So all that's left to say is ... if this doesn't feel like an escape anymore ... well... actually I don't have anything for the 'Then' part of this equation I'm afraid. So, sorry for the horribly long wait, and I'll try my very best to get back on this while I'm still around. I owe that much to myself and to you guys.
In two weeks' time I will be sitting in Dr. Richardson's pseudo office, he is waiting for a specialized albeit small facility to be made for him and his research. I am told it going to be underground, construction is complicated and done mostly at night in an extreme attempt at discretion. It is very 'need to know' – this information. When I end up there it will be as a result of his interest in my ability, a theory that both Nate and myself can do more with what we have - if we learn to control what exists inside us. I am very wary of this man, I get a sense that the scientific half of his mind leads him to make questionable leaps where morality and ethics may be concerned. In the scientific community, this would probably make him something of a pioneer, which... a part of me recognizes we need now more than ever.
Where this co-exists with how he views people, well this gives me pause... because that's what we all are. Use any label you want... but Alter or Norm... we're humans not lab rats, and if I'm being honest even lab rats shouldn't be subjected to torture. Behind his curiosity, however, seems to be some sort of compassion that lends itself to a shepherd mentality, I can intuit that he believes that not all alterisms are dangerous and certainly if controlled, we can transcend and maybe even be a genuine hope for what's left of us.
Pretty progressive for someone without any innate ability of his own, someone who likely will perish when all is said and done.
He's a complicated individual – is what I will finally decide two nights before this meeting.
He's got a lot of files all over his desk, several notebooks with his scrawl everywhere and his glasses pushed on the top of his very dark messy hair. Piercing blue eyes glance my way, and sometimes Nate or Dan's, with a manic sort of quickness. From early on into the appointment, Dan gets up and walks over to the only window in the room alternating between looking out and leaning against the wall, looking back at us and the empty chair next to Nate which is meant for him.
The doctor's first words to me will change everything as we know it from this moment on. "The thing of it is Blair, I'm not entirely certain you can die."
/
New Jersey
It's been about just over a month and a half since Nate has found out he is an alter, we haven't quite figured out just what exactly he's doing yet. We only know that Chuck and Vanessa's abilities sometimes don't work around him. Years later it will occur to me belatedly in the dark of my room that perhaps the reason I took so long to properly present is that he was unknowingly suppressing my alterism without even realizing it. Chuck has invited him to meet some of his contacts, I find this to be particularly off-putting, like this dangerous thing he's been doing behind my back is some sort of members-only club. Nate agrees but I can see the wheels in his head turning, this is a pragmatic evil to him, he is thinking of what happens when things get worse. Chuck is stockpiling, but he seems to be doing so for a fight - Nate gives me the impression he is doing the same thing but for an escape.
Live to fight another day I guess. But the question remains, fight for what?
Chuck still remains tight-lipped and vague with me and though I get angrier I refuse to ask for details so that if I am in some sort of situation I don't have any information of value. This thought process alone scares me, I plead with him one night.
"We have so much saved up. We could leave now. Go to another country... while we're all still in one piece... this could get so bad before it gets better... can't you see that?" He fixes me with a stony silent glare, presses his mouth together before exhaling slowly and I realize then... he does see this... and he intends fully to benefit from it.
"You're endangering all of us... please... stop."
"You think I'm some sort of idiot? That I'm going to get caught out there?" He is missing the point entirely.
"If you let Nathaniel get hurt thanks to your reckless and selfish arms race... I swear to God..."
With that I've propelled us back to high school as if we've never left, some wounds can't ever fully close I suppose. His lip curls with one of his infamous nasty snarls, I can see all the old malice twist his features as if it's not me he's talking to.
"Oh isn't that sweet? After all this time Queen B still has to protect her Golden Boy..."
"Struck a nerve?" I push back. I'm angrier than I expected to be.
"Nate is a big boy now, Blair... he knows what it is he's signed up for." He pushes his chair back abruptly and stalks to the door.
Nate is already gone, they seldom ever leave together as some sort of safety protocol. I wonder dimly if Serena is awake to hear our raised voices as I feel myself get warm, I can't believe I am this upset... blood rushes in my ears as he grabs his coat off the back of a chair along with a scarf as an afterthought. It's not that cold out, but maybe, this too is him calling back to older days.
I stomp over and grab at the scarf that is now around his neck as he stands over the threshold, "Call him... have him come back. Now."
I refuse to say please.
There's a moment, where Chuck blanches, his eyes take me in and there's a whisper of a stutter in his movements. I often wonder what I looked like, behind his forced aloof exterior I see a mix of fear and hurt. "Don't worry Blair... I'll be fine as well, your concern is touching."
He suddenly shoves me off him, nothing serious but enough to jolt me and allow him a 5-minute head start when I - decide to against all reason - sneak out and follow him. Ten minutes into this decision and the stress of it all begins to consume me, I've not left word for Serena, my phone sits back on the dining room table all but useless. I don't have more than 25 dollars in my left coat pocket, this has all the makings of a poor decision. What I don't know is that Chuck has a different set of prescript than Nate, that he has his point of entry guarded heavily. That he has been acting as if he is alone to protect the rest of us – save for Nate of course. I don't expect to feel arms grab me and cover my mouth, the feel of something blunt pressed into the side of my head as half a second of a scream escapes. Across the room Nate is by a window with 3 other men by a large table with all manner of things, he sees me and panics and begins to dash to me. This all makes it appear as if he, the new guy, has brought in some sort of spy or contact unbeknownst to them. He is held up almost instantly, guns pointing at his face.
This is the first time in my life that I start to vibrate, it is a very short window filled with terror and confusion at these new sensations. Shouts start bouncing around, the sound of all the guns in the room being cocked sound like explosions to my anxious ears. Chuck is standing, his arms outstretched in two directions, an attempt to pause and get a heavyset man who is reaching into his belt to call everyone off. His head snaps back between Nate and me, he says over and over that everyone needs to calm down, that it's not what they think.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I am struck by how poor this choice of words is, he sounds unbelievably and singularly guilty.
Just before I get flung to the floor, the air in my lungs pushed out hard, my teeth splitting my lip I see Nate pushed down to his knees and a gun pressed in the hollow of his cheek. Chuck's face for the first time in as long as I can remember, belies the full weight of what he feels.
He can only save one of us.
His best friend, or the love of his life.
Nate, despite his own predicament, ignores Chuck's attempts to calm down someone named Lucas and shouts at whoever has come to sit on my back. The very last thing I hear and see from the painful position I'm in, the cold dust of the concrete hugging my cheek, is Nathaniel Archibald screaming. "Get your hands off her, take me, let her go!"
The gun slides towards his mouth and I blackout.
When I wake up I'm back in my bed at what was still Chuck and I's apartment, my entire body aches and I feel a wave of dizziness overtake me as I attempt to sit up. I fall back into the plush mattress with a loud moan. Within seconds, I see Nate clear the doorway, stopping just over the threshold, his entire face covered in scratches and bruises. What happened to him I wonder, why am I not back at the 5-story walk-up we call home? My mind fumbles to try and make sense of the giant gaps in my memory. The look he levels me with goes far beyond the amount of relief I've seen him display in maybe months, his breathing within seconds becomes erratic as he seems to force down a symphony of sobs and gasps. My name is croaked out and he squats as fast as his injuries allow beside the bed, I look at his hands as they grab for my own, also covered in little cuts and red spots. I am beginning to panic in earnest both because of his state and the acute awareness that I cannot remember what has led to this moment.
My mind can follow time up until having a quiet dinner with Chuck and Serena, while Nate sits with Damien on the balcony working on setting up secure tech... Chuck...
And with that first thought of him, I feel like I am slapped in the back of my head.
My heart rate starts fluctuating, my stomach doing flips and flops in tandem.
"Nate... what... where is ..."
"I... I... I don't really know... I mean... I think I do... Blair... they're gone, the building, I..." He licks his lips and continues without looking at me, "When I came to... it was just you and me, there was a fire fading, stuff that wasn't flammable was strewn... everywhere..."
I think he pauses to gather himself to continue and in that time I begin to recall it all, the fight, following Chuck... my brown eyes find Nate's blue, "Nate... where is Chuck?"
He hoarsely replies with a tear rolling down his cheek, "Gone... Blair... they're all gone... I think you're an alter... I think you... you caused that fire..."
/-/-/-/-/-/-/
When the doctor asks Blair to recount her first incident, there is some fiddling and shifting from both her and Nate that causes you to raise your brow slightly. Blair discloses that perhaps she was, in fact, an alter prior to her first explosion but Nate may have been unwittingly shielding her. The doctor admits he has already considered this and asks them to continue. Blair hangs her head and licks her lips, and Nate takes a breath and reaches out taking her hand. His voice goes soft, that tone that is so specifically his brand of nurturing tenderness, he tells her it's ok... it's on the both of them. You and Doctor Richardson exchange wary glances at his phrasing but say nothing.
The other man is not able to perceive the shift that follows as a regression of sorts, so he is unable to feel the slight tremor of concern at the sight of Blair shutting down, and Nate speaking for the both of them.
She stays almost entirely still, and mostly silent while Nate tells the tale of how she killed Chuck and about 8 other people and they fled the scene confused and scared. You want to tell her, and you probably will at some point, that you get it - that your first time is almost exactly like hers... except...
You didn't have Nate.
That's no one's fault but your own really, but this explains a few lingering questions you've had for a while. It also sheds light on why they two of them were so willing to put their lives on the line to save the residents of the compound, what secret sins they seem to think they need to atone for.
Richardson is scribbling furiously, in and out of margins, his very thick eyebrows furrowed. After he records what he believes to be sufficient details he asks Blair if her hair changed after her first incident. She makes a cute frowny face as if to silently ask him, 'Really dude?' then shakes her head no in response. He offers her a small chuckle then goes on to explain that her hair is a point of great interest to him because he has a theory that some alters may be capable of multiple forms of evolution.
"It's...still quite unproven though..." He trails off, letting the words sit in the air before announcing that he would like to see you all in a few days. He gathers your blood and hair samples and you understand why he wants to see Nate and Blair again but not yourself. You say this aloud and follow it up with a flat statement of, 'I just get really hot.'
He looks at you then, a kind and surprisingly paternal expression on his face, "Actually Dan, you're one of the only two people immune to Blair and vice versa... not to sound inappropriate but the three of you and your abilities... as far as my study goes – you're a set."
/
Malaysia
When you are in Borneo, a brief stint of 6 weeks that you remember with fierce fondness, you go deep into lush forests to see a temple. Someone in town tells you that there is a seer out there that you simply must find, their skill set unmatched to anyone to come before them. You are not yet an alter, but you often think back to that older Dayak man, his quiet raspy voice and think that he very well may have been.
He had told you then that everything is about to change for you, and internally you'd scoffed at the vague open-ended prediction. After a few ambiguous tidbits and one really ludicrous suggestion of you going to another universe, he'd leveled you with a full-on stare and told you that you were running. That you will continue to do so for no more than one year but you would not be able to outrun your past forever. He told you that the very things that you were trying to escape would eventually find you.
"Life is a circle boy."
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When we arrive back at the bungalow we find Zach sitting with Serena and some old photos and magazines with pictures of people from New York.
From before everything turned to dust.
"Darling..." His dry Brit drawl sounds amusingly conspiratorial, "Your taste is exquisitely delicious."
Serena's own squeals sound out bright and bouncy, it's still lovely to hear after all these weeks. I'm sure she and Nate feel the same about my increase in verbalization but that's an aside. Turns out Zach had come to drop off some things for Dan and stayed for tea at her urging, somehow they've begun ogling all her past boyfriends together. Dan and Nate upon figuring out the subject of their focus get squirmy and bee-line for the defunct garage to tend to unpacking whatever Zach has brought over. At first, I thought it was jealousy but I belatedly realize they don't want to contend with his sharp wit and teasing zingers, and perhaps more so, his shrewd scrutiny. Dan has already said to me in passing that he's sure the wheels in Zach's head are gaining momentum and he expects any day to have to explain what's unfolding between all of us. When I ask him what he's going to say in response, suggesting he'll fumble with all of the words in existence, he snorts (a sound I'm beginning to slowly love again).
"I think I'm a lot smoother than you like to give me credit for Waldorf." He squeezes the tip of my nose at the same time he says my last name, both acts weighed down heavily by affection.
Ok, so it's a moment, I guess.
I stick my tongue out at him.
/
When Zach takes his leave Serena pulls me with her to the kitchen, she tells me then that she is in the mood to bake. I don't really say much in response, I pull a bowl of grapes out the fridge and make a 'hmmm' that encourages her to expand.
"I can't decide if I want to bake cookies or banana muffins." She is reaching for the apron in spite of this unfolding conundrum all the same.
"Both?" I ask and she graces me with a surprised little laugh.
I shrug and simply say, "You want to. So do it. It'll get eaten."
The boys return and find her in a bra and shorts and the apron, the sun is rising higher, the kitchen getting warmer still. Dan looks at what she's whisking away, and then at the clock before saying he was thinking of starting dinner soon, tells her she has ejected him from his own kitchen in a way that is flamboyantly dramatic. Nate sits next to me with a book in his hands smiling at their exchange when Serena tells Dan there are two ovens. So, that is how it comes to be that Serena has stripped down to just her undies and an apron, (no bra) and Dan is in just his briefs, a jubilant cook-off afoot. Nate has a couple of times walked over with his ever-present book, and stood in Serena's orbit whenever the kitchen has gotten too hot. Dr. Richardson encouraged him to treat his ability like a muscle that needs stretching and he seems to take the instruction quite seriously. He doesn't create cool air as Zach would but he makes the room more comfortable, given there are two ovens running in the same room as a fire-starter.
Dan has turned on the stereo that sits in the living room and turned to volume up to allow a steady shuffle of music from yesteryear fill the space.
All in all... it's delightfully domestic.
Serena has come to lean against his back while he stirs some stew, the look of pleasure on her face when he doesn't remove her owing to Nate's proximity could end a war. Her arms slink around his waist and he distractedly puts his free hand over her clasped ones for a second. I'm surprised to find that there is no surge of insecurity bubbling forth but even more surprised to find Nate watching me intently from the other side of the island. I squint at him affronted and he has the grace to shake his head with an insufficient modicum of embarrassment. A song comes on then that they both love and of course it leads to dancing, frosting on Dan's nose and Serena singing into her whisk even as he wraps his arm around her waist pulling her close to him. I walk over to Nate who has abandoned his book in favour of basking in their joy.
I speak low for only him to hear, "You guys gonna tell her about the two of you?"
He looks down at me then, I observe his ears going pink but neglect to call him out on it. We've all spoken very briefly about him and Dan the night I found them in the bathroom, timelines, etc but after then... not really. I've not said anything to Serena about what I saw.
/
I'm surprised how weary I sound after Nate and Dan have caught me up on what I am sure is a Cliff's Notes version of what went down between them on and off years ago. "So what? Inside... all of that was just... putting it out in the open where nobody would suspect?"
Nate balks that this is where my mind goes and Dan swallows an ice cube before replying, "I guess... sorta."
I look down at the empty bowl of ice cream in my lap, "Did Serena know?"
"Nobody did." It's Nate, "It wasn't ever something we defined or consistently did Blair."
/
"I'll answer whatever she asks." Translation; nothing I don't have to.
"Your funeral."
Serena pulls the cookies out, places them next to the tube of frosting then looks at the clock to see how much time is left for her muffins which are still in there, she asks Dan if he has any spare "ciggies" on him clearly thinking she has time for a smoke break. He goes over to his pants which are by the small table where we sometimes sit in the morning and pulls the box to reveal the final two in the pack.
"Looks like we're both going." he decides.
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
There's a wooden chair by the main door at the front of the house that seldom gets any use. It's quite large and can easily accommodate the both of you, but you still choose to prop yourself on one of the large wide arms while Serena crosses her limbs in the seat of it. About 4 drags in she asks you idle questions about the appointment, they are more specific to your feelings than that of those she would direct to Nate or Blair. Within very short order you bring up Chuck, her eyes widen and her mouth and brows go sad. She only says, Oh, softly and looks away from you with a heavy sigh. She tells you that she knows you never really cared for him but losing him that way changed everything back then. She then says that both he and Vanessa deserved better... you've heard that Vanessa didn't make it from Georgina but she was never really forthright with details.
When you ask Serena she almost doesn't want to tell you, she says that this used to be your best friend at some point, that however you remember the other girl it's better than what she has to tell you.
You tell her simply, that the truth is always better.
She breaks it all down for you and then some, the level of detail from the day that Vanessa was taken leads you to believe she was there which she ultimately confirms. She tells you everything, takes her time with the cigarette and rushes with the words. You easily picture her having to throw herself in front of Nate, ever the hero, to prevent him from getting to Vanessa. Once more you're left feeling inadequate over the fact that he just seems to never give up on his tribe when you find it so easy to turn tail.
But you also suppose you're a little better at drawing lines of self-care in the sand when stuff gets too toxic. It seems to be deemed preferable to do the opposite according to the Upper East Side book of medicine.
Toxic is always in, and boundaries are for losers.
Your justifications for you not being there for your one-time childhood friend ring weak in your ears and fall even flatter on the floor at your feet – you need a fucking drink. You tell Serena as much and asks if she wants anything, in a surprising moment of sobriety literal and metaphorical, she declines and says she will sit out for a bit longer and asks you to take out the muffins when you go inside if they're done.
When you pad barefoot into the kitchen you catch the sight of Nate and Blair, your recent musings are fresh in your mind and looking at them back together – all these years later, after everything – you think again how loyal he is. Blair is playing at her perfected brand of coy resistance, his easy smile runs laps around her dismissive eye rolls and he reaches down into her tank top sliding one of her tits out. You can hear him coaxing her, while your eyes remain trained on his thumb softly grazing her erect nipple. He asks her what she thinks he should do with her, where he should do it, a husky laugh falls out of him when she asks him why it is he thinks that she has any interest in what he does period.
"You're not?" he asks firmly.
"Not in the slightest." you feel blood rush south as he drops his head and latches his lips onto her nipple.
Her eyes fall shut instantly, the defiance disappearing as a loud gasp rolls past her full pout and her fingers appear on his shoulder. Her noises have always been incredibly arousing to you. In fact, you still from time to time hear them in your dreams when you least expect it. Seeing them live now, without their awareness, is a new kind of sensation that you didn't think could make her sound even sexier. Nate stops abruptly, asks her whether she still doesn't care, she shrugs without a word and he presses his mouth over hers. His hand leaves her breast and slips into the waist of her relaxed cotton shorts, she bites his lips to cover for another loud intake of air mingled with a moan that he manages to get out of her.
One of her hands falls to his tensed forearm, hand moving in her pants, you watch as she leans on it slightly - the tips of her toes taking on her weight somewhat. He intones the words, 'And now?' at her and she refuses to break, instead one of her hands comes up to his face and she roughly takes a hold of his beard. Her thumb tugs down his lip meanly and puffs of air fill the space between their mouths as his hand takes on a steadier pace.
He stops again and she growls at him like a fierce kind of cat right as he retracts his hand and sucks on his middle digit languidly. Two beats pass before she pulls her shorts down, fists his beard and pulls him hard and fast to his knees in front of her. Her gaze is entirely domineering and your cock jumps twice to see Nate assume such a submissive role in an intimate context. If ever there was anyone capable of reducing him to such – it would absolutely be Blair Waldorf.
"Eat it." She pauses for emphasis, "Now."
"Yes, Ma'am."
He purrs his reply out and slides his hands behind her thighs and lifts her easily to his face like a jug of water on a hot afternoon while her hands remain on the counter behind her. Behind her, you spy the muffins already liberated and cooling innocently in contrast to what is unfolding beside them, you stroke your hard-on again deliberating what course of action you will take now.
Her eyes just happen to find you at this moment, hand on the bulge in your briefs and her huffs of breath get bigger for a second as a keening sort of moan comes out of her. She's waiting for your next move, one of her hands goes to release one of her breasts and her cheeks and neck begin to go pink from how flushed she's getting.
You're not ready for this yet...for stepping in like this... getting all the way involved without being there from the start isn't what you're hoping for. Still, you begin a steady purposeful stride over to them and Nate jolts ever so slightly when your hand touches his hair.
You tell him don't stop, you're not really joining this time but wanted to RSVP to the next party. Blair blesses you with an unguarded, trill yet soft little tinkle of a laugh, very uncommon for her. Nate begins to move his tongue over her again, you can't clearly see what he's doing thanks to his facial hair but you turn to stare at Blair's warm face. You were burning hot over at your corner before but here next to Nate you're perfectly fine to lean in and kiss Blair soundly.
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
His lips are soft and warm, and inside his mouth is the only place that is still hot even with Nate so close to us. I can feel his rock hard erection press into my side and I can feel Nate's fingers squeeze my thigh almost painfully as he brushes a hand there mid-kiss. His mouth dips behind my ear for a second then I feel his teeth drag down my neck before sucking softly. He moves back an inch, then as an afterthought, drops his hot tongue down to my exposed chest... the heat... oh God the heat.
Nate begins to tongue fuck me as he watches Dan lave at my nipple before dragging his teeth over it which gets me to hiss.
He steps back and Nate gently, always gently, lets me stand on my feet but stays on his knees. All of 3 seconds pass before Dan leans down and grabs his hair and pulls his head back and attacks his mouth. Nate and I groan at the same time knowing that his intent is to taste me.
I stare at both their full, wet lips and bite down on my own – I want to tell him to stay but he seems pretty intent on scurrying off to his own room. I fail to follow the logic of this, I know he's going to tend to the intense urge between his legs and the fire blooming under his skin. That he won't even finish in front of, near, or just plain with us and favours the frustration of solitude makes little sense to me. I look down and see Nate staring after his retreating form, his face awash with concern clearly wondering about this as well. He is in the process of placing feathery albeit distracted kisses on my inner thigh when Serena rounds the corner and coos when she spots us sans Dan.
I feel like she keeps narrowly missing pertinent parts of a story that isn't really mine to tell and it bothers me.
Her timing is off and I wish more than ever she would just be a few minutes early.