Chapter 1: The Disappearance of Serena Van der Woodsen
It had been two years since she walked down the stairs of Blair and Chuck's townhouse. Two years since he watched her marry someone else. Two years since she became Serena Humphrey (or was it still Van der Woodsen? Van der Woodsen-Humphrey?).
Two years since he let her go forever.
He had gotten a call from Chuck a few hours earlier. She had gone missing (again).
He didn't go look for her like Chuck and Blair had. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. She had left him before (at the Shepherd Wedding, on Thanksgiving with Tripp, the list goes on). He knows that every time she leaves, she always comes back.
He doesn't understand why she leaves. Maybe it's psychological (his therapist – because he has one of those now – would probably say it has something to do with her dad. But they all have shitty dads, right?). It's the fact that she does it every single time something goes wrong that drives him insane. He finds it silly she still hasn't realized that running away doesn't solve anything (his therapist would agree).
He knows he should go help his friends look for her. Because that's what friends do. And they're friends (or at least that's what he tries to tell himself).
But the logical part of his brain knows they're not friends. They never have been. And he can't put himself out there again just to get broken.
He doesn't know why she left this time. And to be honest, he doesn't really care. Because she'll come back with an excuse, and everything will be fine like it always is. (She always comes back.)
So now, Nate was going to do what he does every time she leaves him. He's going to walk through Central Park at 3 a.m., sit on their bench, and smoke a joint. He's going to try to make himself feel numb and forget about the magnetic hold that Serena Van der Woodsen has on him.
Before he could talk himself out of it and join his friends on the search for Serena (like the adult he knows he should be), he threw on his jacket and pulled out the joint he hid in his desk (that, luckily, nobody on his team had found yet).
He walked the seven blocks to Central Park in a daze, working on muscle memory alone. He was almost at their bench when he saw a figure occupying it. Against his better judgement, he walked over to the bench and sat down next to her.
The pair sat in silence for what felt like an eternity (almost as long as that year she spent at boarding school, when they really didn't talk to each other).
"You ran away again?" It came out as more of a statement than a question, and Nate cursed himself just a bit for his harsh tone.
After a few seconds of silence, she finally spoke. "He cheated." It was barely a whisper.
He had heard rumors that Dan was cheating on her, but he disregarded them all. Sure, Dan had done some bad stuff to them all in the past (see: Gossip Girl), but she had forgiven him. She loved him.
So, he ignored the rumors. People were jealous of their relationship. Hell, he was jealous of their relationship. But now that she told him, now that she said the words to him out loud, it was real, and he couldn't chalk it up to petty chatter.
A clap of thunder broke him out of his thoughts. He glanced at her for a moment, searching for the right words. He didn't know what to say that would fix her. So, there they sat, staring straight ahead, with the silence hanging between them.
That is, until the sky opened up and the rain started to fall. He looked over at Serena in one of his old Columbia lacrosse t-shirts that she must have stolen from his drawer years ago (and that he's been searching for ever since), tiny shorts that certainly were not appropriate for Spring in New York, and a pair flip flops. Silently, he shrugged off his jacket and placed it on her shoulders.
"C'mon, S. Let's go to my place," he said as he stood, offering his hand out to her.
She sat there, unresponsive. He wasn't sure if she was crying or if it was just the rain, but her blue eyes were filled with sadness and water soaked her cheeks. For the second time that night, he felt the urge to kill Dan Humphrey (or at least punch him really, really hard).
The rain was pouring down harder now, and he knew they were going to get sick.
"Serena."
She glanced up at him and softly, she said, "Can we… can we just dance in the rain?"
She knew he could never say no to her.
Softly, he pulled her up toward him, with one of her hands in his larger one, his other hand on her waist, and held her close. The pair swayed back and forth, slowly, to the sound of the rain pounding on the pavement around them.
After a while, the rain subsided, but Nate didn't drop her hand. Instead, he gently led her back to his apartment, gave her an old pair of sweats and a fresh t-shirt, and pulled her into bed with him.
When he woke in the morning (to no one's surprise, least of all Nate's), she was gone. With a sigh, Nate rolled over and read the note left on his bed side table:
I'm sorry. Xo, S.
AN: Must have been bitten by the writing bug, because here I am again. Decided to continue with this story, but started by re-writing this chapter.
Thank you for all the kind words. Part 2 coming soon. Xo.
