Author: Lauren.
Rating: Rated M.
Character/Pairing: Blair Waldorf, Nate Archibald, Dan Humphrey, Serena Van der Woodsen, Dan/Blair, Nate/Blair.
Summary: Sometimes Blair feels like she's always in between. Nate/Blair, Dan/Blair.
Disclaimer: GG isn't mine. Especially not it's shitty ass more recent seasons. Although I do wish I owned the books.
Author's Note: Quarantine you guys. Let me know what you think cause I need the validation.
He's so peaceful when he's sleeping. I mean, he's always beautiful because this is Nate Archibald but when he's sleeping, it's beyond that. The lines that have formed since they were kids, the worries knitted into his brow, it all melts away and then he's the sweet boy she remembers. The one who could have any girl but chose to hold her hand anyway.
She leans over him, hair falling like a parachute, like a shield around that handsome face. She kisses his forehead, smooths back his hair and looks down at him. He's just so… Nate. And he's the most familiar thing she's ever known.
Sliding in beside him, she slips a hand underneath his heather grey t-shirt, feeling the warm skin beneath. He groans and turns over, lashes fluttering.
"Blair?" for a second he sounds confused but then he's conscious and a smile creeps across his mouth "Blair."
"Hey honey," it's her turn to smile, to plant kisses on his face, to curl her leg around his waist and manoeuvre him closer "I need to tell you something."
He nuzzles his face into her neck, breathes in that safe Blair smell "If it's how much you love me, then feel free to carry on."
Deep breaths B. Make sure you exhale. "I'm pregnant." His body freezes next to her, she can literally feel every muscle begin to contract and panic.
"Really?" he still hasn't moved his face, she can feel his breath, hot and fast, like a heartbeat "Really, really?"
The pure joy in his tone makes her smile again. Relief floods her brain. She closes her eyes and finds them wet. "Really really."
Then he's kissing her and kissing her and kissing her and his hands are on her stomach and there's laughing and crying. We're having a baby he keeps saying, over and over until it feels like those words are her heartbeat. A baby, a baby, a baby.
Serena's due date seems to swing around so fast that all of the lists they make are useless. The nursery is finished, although it still smells like fresh paint, which irks Miss Van Der Woodsen no end. What if the fumes affect my child? She keeps asking the contractor, hands on her hips, stomach blooming beneath a Ganni floral satin slip that on anyone else would have looked like a whale in lingerie but on her seemed effortlessly chic.
It's hot. Fucking hot. New York in July and they're both pregnant, although Blair feels worse for Serena because she seems to be far more stressed. Unusual, I know.
The room at Lenox Hill is booked and her Gucci canvas suitcase is packed and everything seems to be in order.
The shower is stunning. Candles and flowers and so much light. Sweet little fancy things on silver trays and floral crowns and the smell of sandalwood thick on the air. Serena takes photographs with everyone, and the society pages are there to report it and even Blair is exhausted with all of the business.
Nate and the other men show up in the last hour, as is traditional, bearing gifts and smelling like they've been smoking cigars in some gentlemans club. Which is probably the truth. Blair is surprised to see Dan standing awkwardly with them, drinking a martini.
"Hey stranger," she leans next to him, trying to take the pressure off her aching soles "When did you become one of the jocks?"
His smile is small but she knows he's glad to see her "Thank fuck you're here, otherwise I'd be in a corner reading Hemingway and drinking gin," he glances down at her bump "Unfortunately I'd be alone."
"Hey!" she raises her hands in defence "No gin but pregnancy hasn't stopped me from being able to read."
His expression is thoughtful "Maybe when you're in your confinement we can start a book club."
"It's not the 1600s I can still leave the house after I pop out mini Archibald," she laughs, twisting her hair off of her neck "Besides I'll need an excuse to drink. Nate has me on all this supplements-" she trails off because she can see him losing interest. Or just not wanting to hear it, she can't really tell.
"Well if you need a drinking buddy, you know where I am," he nods at Serena, who is currently engaged in what looks like a nightmarish conversation with Anne Archibald "Better go and congratulate fertile Myrtle over there."
He slips away and she watches him go. Indecipherable Dan Humphrey, as always.
The phone rings in the middle of the night and Blair goes to heave herself up but Nate's already muttering I've got it, I've got it into her hair so she stops.
His feet pad down the hall and she's not worried because he gets calls at weird times anyway because of work and time zones. So she waits, just waits in the thick darkness. It's only when he starts running that the tears prick in her eyes.
They're all there, gathered like penguins, Rufus and Lily and Jenny and Dan. The Humphrey-Van der Woodsens are a strong clan but now they all look pale and weak.
Blair tightens the cord of her Eres cashmere robe until it hurts slightly as they rush, as quickly as she can right now, down the disinfectant soaked corridor.
"Is she- Can I-" Blair can't finish a thought or a sentence until Lily's smooth hand lands on her shoulder "What happened?"
"She went into early labour," Lily's looks exhausted and with her hair scraped back into a slick bun, somehow ten years younger "They haven't told us much."
Blair wonders when the last time that Mother and daughter were actually in the same room, must have been months. She wonders if she's even seen her since her bump got so big. Wonders if she's gone to any of the scans or helped pick out onesies or passed down wisdom. Is there time for that now?
"I'll get coffee," Nate says in a whisper and disappears. He hates hospitals, always has and she knows if this were a few years ago, he'd be headed somewhere quiet to smoke a joint.
But they aren't kids anymore, that much is apparent. So they settle into uncomfortable chairs, so uncomfortable despite how private and expensive the hospital is, and wait. And wait.