A/N- Sorry this ha taken a while for me to post - like I said when I posted 'On The Edge' I left this chapter on my memory stick in my office, and didn't get it back until yesterday. Stupid me.

Anyways, if you aven't read my new one shot (C/B of course) you should check it out! Alos, I was wondering if any of you One Tree Hill fans could help me? In season 5, does Lucas have an alcohol problem? And if he does, is he sober now? I need the info for a new story lol. I might have just imagined all that, but I thought I'd better make sure :)

Enjoy xxx

The Saddest Song

Chapter 4: The Only Option

She's angry. Livid, not with him for probing (because he didn't really), but with herself for being ridiculously weak. Still, anger is a feeling, she reasons, and having not had any of those in a long while, she figures she's supposed to be glad that she's got that back.

Perhaps it was easier when she felt nothing.

There's lots of time for thinking here, with white walls and white ceilings, white floors, white uniforms providing a blank canvas for thought as she sits in the chair rather uncomfortably in the doctor's office.

She remembers when she was a little girl, and Dorota would bring her here sometimes if she had a bad cough or if she'd gotten gravel in her knee when she fell. She'd been here too, when she wouldn't eat, when she forced fingers down her throat, and Eleanor had practically forced her into a limo (not accompanying of course) after a particularly bad week.

The doctor had given her pills. Not one bottle, not two, but countless, each with horrible hard-to-pronounce names, each a different colour, yet each having much the same effect.

Maybe she could get some of those right now. It might provoke a smile.

"Miss Waldorf, I understand that you're here to discuss some options with us?" The doctor says, and she takes a gulp, forces the tightest of smiles and nods, thinking that perhaps it would have been better if she'd issued a false name. "I'd like you to do another test here with us, just so that we can confirm that you are pregnant."

She narrows her eyes at the woman in the white coat, inspecting her features; wide nose, glasses and blonde hair. "Don't you believe me? Is this because I've been here before for…other stuff, and you think I'm doing this to get attention, because…"

"I don't think that at all." The doctor reasons. "But it's procedure that we do a test on the premises, just to confirm.

Blair doesn't reply, just lets the aching sides of her mouth drop, her eyes staring at the floor as the doctor picks up her stethoscope. She'd only come here for some damn leaflets.

She hands the stick back to the doctor, face devoid of all emotion as she thinks perhaps she should have given a false name, because even though patient confidentiality is supposed to be procedure, this is still the Upper East Side and Gossip Girl still exists.

Just because scandal might be heartache doesn't mean Gossip Girl goes sparingly.

The rest of her appointment passes in a huge blur. There's some prodding of her stomach, she realizes only when she's lying on her back on a table as her eyes begin to water uncontrollably.



A lot of things have been uncontrollable this week.

There's gel across her skin, a monitor displaying fuzzy images that she peaks at just once, before turning her head the other way as she hears something sound horribly like an incessant heartbeat. And now Blair's sure she's heard the doctor sigh on more than one occasion.

And as she leaves, everything still a blur, she's clutching leaflets with awful bright colours for backgrounds.

The receptionist asks her to sign some form that she doesn't read, and then offers her some condoms from a selection spread out tediously across some sort of plate as she hands her some white card with another appointment time scheduled on it.

She guesses she must have decided out loud on abortion some time during this ridiculous procedure.

And now she can't understand why they just won't give her one now.

"A little late for protection now, don't you think?" Blair cuts icily, thrusting the pen back underneath the glass screen as she rolls her eyes. Chuck would have taken them anyway.

And for a while outside, she thinks it's raining, light drizzle in the warm air. And then Blair realizes it's her hot tears, wipes at her face furiously before Gossip Girl ruins her any further and slings the Balenciaga bag over her shoulder, heading nowhere in particular down the busy sidewalk.

X

He's reading a book when she walks in. Actually reading, not just pretending to like she knows he used to do in literature class. Blair can't understand why any teacher in their right mind would let Chuck Bass sit at the back of a room.

She slams the door and he looks up, a mixture of surprise and knowing at the same time. Blair throws the bag down, leaflets tucked safely inside from prying eyes before curling up against him on the bed, face pressed against his chest so he can't see her eyes as she cries in his presence yet again.

"Still with child?" He asks, placing the book on the bedside table. She doesn't move, and he takes it as a yes, not really sure what to say after that.

"I don't know what to do." Blair mumbles.

It's no good to Chuck. He doesn't either.

"You're keeping it?"

"No…I'm not…I just…"

"Blair, you're stalling."



"I'm not."

"You want this baby."

"I don't." She replies indignantly. "I don't want anything to do with this…thing inside of me."

"Then what's your problem?" Chuck asks. "The clinic will sort it, right?"

Suddenly she thinks she's lost any faith in Chuck she had left.

"I don't even know what I'm doing here."

All of it is chocked through constant tears that he's almost sure are ruining his 400 shirt.

"Do you know the thread-count of this shirt?" He asks her a little sarcastically. He's just not sure how to be serious around Blair. The last time he was, he'd gotten more than he'd ever expected.

" Yes." She mumbles.

"And you're ruining it with your mascara."

"It's a horrible colour anyway." She counters in a mumble, slightly satisfied, deeply unsure of how to take Chuck nowadays. Flirty banter seems to have given way to select comments with hidden meaning.

Blair's not sure when that horrible line had been drawn.

"You picked out this shirt."

"I did not. I wouldn't have picked lilac." She returns. "Nobody suits lilac."

"Chuck Bass suits lilac."

"Blair Waldorf fails to agree."

She's sat up now and her eyebrows are raised, and it's the first time Chuck can relax even just a little around her.

"So what happened at the clinic?"

He's not stupid. He's knows exactly where she's been.

"They gave me condoms."

"What?"

"Here." She reaches into her bag, pulling at the selection from the plate that had been on the counter and then hands him the three packets. "Knock yourself out."

Chuck just takes them, places them on the nightstand beside his lamp and looks back at her blankly.

"We should have used them."

"What?" Blair frowns.

"If we had, this wouldn't have happened."

"What….No!" Her eyes widen in horror. "This isn't… It isn't… It's not yours."

"I thought…"

"No!" She shakes her head. "We did use… You know, protection." Blair nods towards the nightstand.

"I thought it must have…"

"I was on the pill."



"But it's not 100..."

"It's not yours Chuck."

Her words cut him like he wouldn't have thought possible, and it's only now Chuck realizes he might have wanted this after all.

"So whose is it? Nate's?"

She shakes her head., silently thanking God, because if this thing inside of her had been Nate's, things might be way worse.

"So what, you just screwed some random guy?"

"Like you screwed some random girl?"

"Yeah, but I didn't knock her up…" He trails off, realizing he's gone too far before he changes his tone to a much softer one. "I said I was sorry Blair."

"Yeah, and so am I. But I guess I'm the one paying for it, not you."

"I'm here though." Chuck tells her. "If you need me to come to your appointments…or anything."

"I don't need you to come to anything, this has nothing to do with you!"

"It has everything to do with me when you're God knows how many months pregnant and crying on my bed!"

"I'm not crying."

"You were crying."

"I was not, my eyes were just sore from staring at white for so long."

"You can admit it you know." Chuck probes further. "If you want to keep this baby, even if you don't tell me whose it is."

"I don't want to keep it."

"What are you trying to hide?" He asks. "What could you possibly think that you can't tell me?"

"Everything!" She cries.

"But you used to tell me everything about Nate and Serena and all those girls from school. We never had any secrets."

"Liar."

"What!?"

"Liar. We had tons of secrets from each other."

"Like what?"

"Like you loved me, like I loved you, like even though she was my best friend, I still hate Serena…And Nate was the only guy I was supposed to cry over." She's babbling now, her throat sore. "And then everything happened with us, and then you wouldn't talk to me anymore…So I couldn't tell you about this because it was just…All such a mess. And I wasn't supposed to cry over you because I wasn't supposed to feel like this. None of it was supposed to be like this."

Chuck's silent for a while as he figures out what to say.

Blair doesn't know why he's even trying to be tactile. He never was before.

"You hate Serena?"

Blair shrugs. "Not all the time."

"But sometimes?"



She shrugs again. "It's just like…her world revolves around her you know? And the things she's supposed to notice, she just doesn't, and the things she's never supposed to do, she does and yet I know all of this and I still love her but…"

"You just said you hate her."

"But I love her too." Blair sighs. "It's like, she has this power, where you can't not love her, like no guy can be her friend without falling in love with her, and I… I just don't get it. It's like you're the only guy who isn't affected by it and who doesn't try it on…"

She must have noticed something in his eyes, he figures, because all of a sudden, Blair clasps her hand to her mouth as though they're in a slasher movie, and the killer is coming up behind him.

"You tried something with her didn't you?"

Chuck dips his head, not knowing what to say because it was one time, and he knew he shouldn't do it, even when he was doing it.

"When?" Blair demands.

"It was one time Blair, and nothing happened."

"When?" She demands again.

"When she first came back to New York. I was drunk and I wasn't… It wasn't like I wanted it to happen, but you were with Nate and…"

"Don't you dare make this about me."

"If you'd just listen to me…"

"I'm done listening to you Chuck." She replies tiredly. "I should have known when you were giving that speech at your father's wedding that it was all lies."

"It wasn't lies!" Chuck protests.

"Well it wasn't the truth."

He can't stop her before she gets up to leave – doesn't even try. Just watches as she picks up the bag she dropped down earlier before glancing towards the condoms on the nightstand.

"Use those for whatever whore you're with tonight." She bites. "Including Serena. You don't want to end up like this." Blair gestures to her still-tiny frame.

And then she's gone out the door before she can look back and before Chuck can even respond, her hand clutching the small white appointment card.

It's her only option.

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