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: I have no idea where I'm going with this but there you go. Hope you enjoy.
Blair feels empty. Hollow, as if every sound bounces around inside her like an echo.
Nate comes home tired every night so she always has dinner ready so he can refuel and shower and fall into bed. She doesn't even ask what his day has entailed, mostly because he's simply too exhausted to tell her. But also because she can't bring herself to tell him how badly she's struggling.
After she'd lost the first baby, she'd told herself nothing could be worse than that. Surely.
The baby's room is cool and still. She stands above his crib, and when he begins to stir and squirm, she slowly lifts him, tucks his head into the nook of her neck and settles into the rocker by the window.
The time between evening and day is her favourite, when the buzz of the city seems to settle into a hum. He smells sweet and milky and soft somehow, as if a texture has become a scent. Her Mother keeps telling her to savour his babyhood so she tries her best to, to fold the little clucking sounds he makes inside her so that she might remember them when he's having a future tantrum.
Nate has decided to run for office, and although he swears that he consulted her, she can't seem to recall it. But he still steadies her, something hard to imagine when her sixteen year old self had only needed the touch of his fingertips to send her heart rate rocketing. And although those moments are few and far between nowadays, the comfort he provides feels vital to her.
She and Dan walk most days. With the stroller and take out cups of Sant Ambrose caffeine, they discuss what she's been reading (very little) and what he's been writing (he's been prolific in the last six months.) She swells with pride every time she reads his name in the newspaper, although he emails her copies of everything she stills insists on buying the tangible version, to be filed away. He laughs and calls her old fashioned, and she says (in a voice that sounds frighteningly like Eleanor's) you'll thank me one day Humphrey, when your words are swallowed by the internet. You'll thank me.
Serena has her own place now, and she seems to have adjusted to her new normal as a single parent. Blair hears talk of Carter Baizen again but she doesn't ask, if Serena needs him then who is she to question that. Her best friend is drinking less and smiling more, so what more does she need to know?
Her Father has a heart attack. They fly him back to New York, because as much as the Waldorfs love Paris, it doesn't seem right for him to be convalescing in anywhere other than his home. Blair has never felt younger than she does when she sees him for the first time. He's so small and weak and thin and she can't do anything but slide in beside him and cry. This wasn't supposed to happen, please don't let this be the end.