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Chapter 3

What day is this
Besides the day you left me…

Blair leaned her head back against the padded leather seat and stared out the window, watching the Manhattan skyline recede into the distance as their towncar sped across the Brooklyn Bridge.

Without looking, she knew that Dan was doing the same thing: staring out the opposite window on the other side of the car. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and she could practically hear him judging her from across the seat- but the silence still felt like a long-awaited respite.

Because she needed to think.

She needed to figure out why her decisions, which she'd made and adhered to with the same single-minded determination that she always did, had left her feeling moderately content on the best days, and isolated and unhappy the rest of the time.

And on the worst days- which included tonight, and that Saturday evening a few weeks ago when she'd seen Chuck at the opera with a willowy blonde on his arm- she felt like her heart was being crushed inside of her chest.

(She'd also felt an overwhelming urge to tackle the tramp to the floor and scratch her stupid eyes out… which she'd resisted, choosing instead to spend the evening seething with irrational hatred and glowering at the back of her head.)

She knew full well that she had no right to be jealous, to expect Chuck to wait while she explored her feelings for Dan. And she hadn't expected him to pine for her, nursing his broken heart with glass after glass of scotch, longing for the day when she might finally return. She certainly hadn't expected him to keep fighting for her, using every scheme and trick and big romantic gesture in the book to win her back. To prove to her that they really were inevitable.

So why, then, had it hurt so much when he hadn't?

She was starting to suspect that some part of her- a part she'd buried away along with the rest of her messy and inconvenient feelings- had always expected to return to him eventually.

But two years seemed like… an interminably long time. Long enough for him to get over her. To move on.

To fall in love with someone else, she thought, swallowing down the painful lump in her throat. And that was never supposed to happen.

They were supposed to find their way back to each other.

She couldn't- wouldn't- lose him like this.

When they pulled to a stop outside the Humphrey loft, Dan exited without a word, shutting the door behind him with just a bit too much force; Blair sighed to herself, quietly instructing the driver to wait before following Dan into the building.

The loft always had a faint… warehouse-y smell to it, she observed, crinkling up her nose as they walked into the living room. Despite her repeated attempts to eradicate it with scented candles and fresh flowers- in a moment of desperation, she'd even tried a Glade plug-in- she could never quite dispel the lingering odor of industrial machinery and sweaty factory workers.

Or whatever it was people kept in warehouses.

Dan dropped his keys on the coffee table, loosened his tie and ran his fingers through his already-tousled hair.

"I'm going to bed," he announced in a tired voice, not looking her in the eyes.

"Wait," Blair said quietly. "Dan… we should talk."

She sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion beside her.

Dan let out a pained sigh and sat down as far away from her as possible- he was practically sitting on the arm of the sofa- before looking at her and attempting an understanding expression.

"So… are you actually going to tell me what's going on?" he asked finally, unable to conceal his annoyance.

Blair fidgeted with the skirt of her gown for a moment, the black chiffon sliding softly across her fingertips as she steeled her nerves for the conversation to come.

"Dan…" she began, forcing herself to look up from her own lap and make eye contact with him. "You know how much I care about you. You're one of the most important people in my life, and… I really don't want that to change."

Dan's eyes widened slightly, realization dawning that this wasn't going to be the conversation he'd obviously expected.

The one they'd already had several times over the brief course of their relationship, where he asked her what was wrong, she assured him with a bright, almost-convincing smile that everything was fine, really, and then they snuggled in front of the television until they fell asleep.

No, this was going to be something else entirely.

And it was obvious from his incredulous expression that he'd never been on the receiving end of this conversation before.

"Are you breaking up with me?" he cut right to the chase, his tone tinged with disbelief.

Blair's mouth opened slightly, and then closed again, and she looked back down at the hands clasped together in her lap.

She knew the answer was written all over her face.

"If this is because of, uh, you know…" Dan made a self-conscious gesture with his hand. "I really think that'll get better, with a little more practice…"

But Blair was already shaking her head.

"I think that's… just a symptom," she said. "Not the cause. It's … a sign that we're better off just being friends."

"I see." He stared back at her with a hint of resentment appearing in his dark eyes. "Well then, I wonder what else it could possibly be?"

She held his gaze, but couldn't prevent the guilty flush that spread across her cheeks.

"I mean, I'm sure this has absolutely nothing to do with Chuck, right?" he went on, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Dan, that's not-" she began.

"I can't believe that after everything," he cut her off, his tone growing increasingly bitter. "After everything he's done, after everything that's happened between us… you still love him."

She stared back at him in consternation.

"Of course I do," she defended herself. "I never said that I didn't. I never lied to you, Dan."

"I know you didn't, I just…" He exhaled a frustrated sigh. "I thought that would change. I thought…" he trailed off, looking defeated.

She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"That you would…grow to love me," he admitted, averting his eyes. "The way you love him."

Blair sighed, regarding him with a look of sad understanding.

She couldn't help but sympathize. After all, she'd spent several years of her life feeling the exact same way. Thinking that if she could just make herself into what Nate wanted, what he needed… if she were pretty enough, charming enough, thin enough…

Eventually he would look at her the way he looked at Serena.

The constant self-doubt, the never-ending battle to earn someone else's affection- it was something that she wouldn't wish on anyone.

"What I don't get," Dan said suddenly, "is why now? You turned him down to be with me. You've barely even seen him in months.

"Unless…" He fixed her with a pointed glare. "You've been seeing more of him than I thought?"

She stared back at him in disbelief as she absorbed his implication.

"What exactly are you accusing me of?" she asked incredulously. "You think I'm cheating on you?"

He shrugged, his expression unrepentant.

"Wouldn't be the first time," he pointed out tartly.

Ignoring the accuracy of that statement, she narrowed her eyes at him in indignation.

"I have never given you a reason to suspect that," she replied sharply.

"Oh, you mean besides spending the entire evening mooning over your ex, breaking up with me, and now, I assume, planning to head straight over to his place when you leave here?" he countered, the antagonism in his voice fading into hurt.

Unable to face the wounded expression in his eyes, she averted her gaze.

"Dan, I've barely spoken to Chuck since you and I started dating," she said honestly- omitting that this was largely because he'd avoided all of her attempts to contact him. "I know it's hard to believe, but he's done nothing to interfere in our relationship."

"Except for making an elaborate speech announcing his departure," Dan commented dryly. "Has it occurred to you that maybe this is exactly why he's leaving? So you'll stop him?"

Of course it had occurred to her, she thought with a barely-perceptible eyeroll. Blair Waldorf had practically gold-medaled in scheming and manipulation; obviously she'd examined his motivations from every possible angle.

But even if that were the case, even if this were nothing more than a high-stakes game of chicken...

"It doesn't matter," she said truthfully. "All that matters is… if I let him leave, I know I'll regret it."

Dan sighed, rubbing one hand along the side of his face.

"Why did you even get involved with me at all, Blair?" he asked in a discouraged tone. "Why not just go back to him three months ago, and leave me out of this whole mess?"

Deciding that he deserved an honest answer, she paused to consider his question.

"You've been… so good to me, Dan," she replied finally. "You supported me through everything that's happened this past year. You've always been there when I needed you, no matter how… demanding, or irrational, or… bitchy, I may have gotten."

She saw the slight tilt of his eyebrows, indicating that she'd been all of those things- but chose to let it slide.

"You've been an amazing friend, and I will always be grateful for that," she continued with a wistful little smile. "But… friendship isn't romance. And gratitude isn't love."

Dan winced slightly at her candor.

"Chuck told me I was free to choose," she said quietly, her voice heavy with remorse as she remembered the look on his face as he'd done so. "And that's exactly what I was trying to do. Choose someone safe, dependable. Someone who would never hurt me."

Someone who could never hurt me, her mind corrected.

Because she'd never really given him the power to do so.

"But… you can't choose who you love. And you can't just… kill feelings," She unwittingly echoed Dan's own words back to him. "My past with Chuck has been so complicated, so… intense. We've both hurt each other, and we've both made a lot of mistakes."

She felt that familiar stab of sadness, of regret, when she thought of all of the opportunities they'd screwed up, all the chances they'd lost.

This is the end, Chuck.

You're not ready for a relationship. Maybe you never will be.

But that doesn't mean I'm in love with you, at least not right now. Not the way you need me to be.

"I think I was afraid that if we tried again, and failed, for whatever reason…" She paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. "I didn't think I could handle that."

Even now, just mentioning the possibility was enough to make her stomach tighten in apprehension.

"It was a risk I wasn't prepared to take," she admitted sadly.

"But a relationship shouldn't be a risk," Dan argued, even as she could see the awareness in his eyes that this wasn't an argument he would win. "Not when it's right. You shouldn't have to be afraid of getting hurt. You're only afraid because he's hurt you so many times."

Blair shook her head.

"Loving someone- truly loving them, with all of your heart- is always a risk," she refuted. "Not just because they could hurt you, but because… if you lose them…"

She paused, swallowing over the lump in her throat. "You might never recover," she concluded in an unsteady voice.

Her eyes began to fill with tears as she recalled the image of Chuck in a hospital bed, his pale, bruised body barely clinging to life; the piercing beep of the monitor the only assurance that his heart continued to beat. Her chest had clenched in terror every time the rhythm changed even slightly, certain that he was going to die in front of her at any moment.

And all because he'd run away with her, tried to protect her. She'd almost lost him forever.

It takes more than even you to destroy Blair Waldorf.

But he could have. Losing him could have. And it had scared the hell out of her.

She'd been running scared ever since.

"And what about me?" Dan's voice intruded on her thoughts. "You're not… scared of losing me?"

She glanced back up to find him still watching her.

"I hope I don't," she said honestly.

The unspoken conclusion- but that's a risk I'm willing to take- hung heavily in the air between them.

He said nothing in response, his expression a mix of hurt and resignation. And a sharp pang of sympathy cut through her, because she knew he didn't deserve this.

Dan's only mistake had been trying to fill a role in her life that had never been meant for him.

"I'm sorry," she added quietly, although she knew it would do little to comfort him.

He shook his head, exhaling a soft, mirthless laugh.

"Don't be," he said in a weary tone. "I feel like an idiot for thinking that this… could've ended up any other way."

As remorseful as she felt, she couldn't disagree. Yes, she'd told him that Chuck no longer had her heart- but Dan should have known better. He'd believed her because he'd wanted to, not because he'd really thought it was true.

"I meant what I said before, Dan," she said sincerely. "I know you probably hate me right now, but… your friendship means the world to me. I really hope I haven't… screwed that all up."

Her voice lilted upwards at the end, framing the statement as a question.

Dan stared down at the coffee table for a moment as he considered his response.

"No," he finally said. "I don't hate you, Blair. And I'm not sorry we tried, because otherwise… I think I would've always wondered, you know?"

She nodded.

"And I do still want us to be friends. I mean… I can't even really imagine my life without you," he gave her a bittersweet little smile. "I think it'll take some time though. I can't just go from… sixty to zero in a day."

"I understand," she replied softly, trying not to sound as disappointed as she felt.

Truth be told, she couldn't really imagine her life without him, either- partly because of how close they'd grown over the past year, but also because she was so estranged from everyone else. With Serena and Chuck (and by extension, Nate) keeping their distance, Dorota on maternity leave, and her mom spending most of her time in Paris, she couldn't even remember the last time she'd had a heart-to-heart with anyone besides Dan.

But that was about to change.

Tonight she would get Chuck back; tomorrow, Serena. Dan would come around eventually, and then everything would be back to the way it was supposed to be.

"I should probably go," she murmured, trying not to seem too eager to get away from Dan and his mopey expression. "But whenever you're ready to… talk, or hang out, or… whatever… give me a call?"

He nodded gloomily, and she reached out to give his shoulder a quick squeeze before she stood to leave.

It wasn't until she reached the sidewalk outside, her stilettos tapping sharply against the concrete, that she identified the pleasant sensation coursing through her veins.

It was… freedom.

The freedom Chuck had tried to give her months ago- she just hadn't let herself fully grasp it until now.

It felt so good, so invigorating, she practically skipped towards her waiting towncar, sliding into the backseat with far more eagerness than she'd left it half an hour ago.

"Empire hotel," she commanded, barely able to control the giddy little smile on her face.

She leaned back against the leather seat, feeling her stomach flutter with a mix of excitement and nervousness as she stared up at the approaching Manhattan skyline.

This was it, she realized.

She was finally going home.

A/N: And… they're dunzo. Surprisingly enjoyable to write, hope it was also enjoyable to read! Lemme know :) And just to warn you, this story will get M-rated at some point. Because that's just how I roll.

Thanks to Terrabeth for corralling all of my "thinkiness" in this chapter. Trying to explain Blair's thought process, or why she was even with Dan to begin with, was no easy task, haha.

And thanks to my reviewers, you guys (and Chuck and Blair!) are what keep me writing: dreamgurl, SoonerThanLater, bfan, FrozenandYetNot, annablake, Iz, Rossiee, thebelleoftheball, Ican'tbeMewithoutYou, Lena, 3bass3, Meg, RauhlPrincess, theghostqueen, Stella296, Incorrigible dreamer, SnowedUnderNJ, issabell, fiona249, Infinitywr, Love Still Stands, Krazy4Spike, livelybass, Mademoiselle Bass, Izzie, Jane, LowerCase32, Trosev, A, 88Mary88, notoutforawalk, Vanillaberries, Questacious, Megumi, nelly, BiteMeBass (awesome name, btw), 13maggi13, iheartchair, pty, Edlover, bonafide11, HazelFromBehind, and Temp02.