AN: Loving all your reviews, favorites, and alerts. Thank you all:) I won't lie, this chapter was a bit of a tear-jerker for me. One of the hardest to write (so far), and I hate asking for reviews, but if y'all could drop me a note telling me if my characters were at all OOC or just fine, I'd love you forever. Is this how they would react to Jenny's death? I'm inclined to think so, but I'd also love to hear what you think. Special thanks to bethaboo for beta-ing and to BforQueen for encouraging me on twitter.
"S?" Blair called out as she waltzed into their shared suite at the Ritz. She sighed in relief as she stepped out of her ridiculously high Louboutins-the same ones Serena had dubbed an 'orgasm in shoe form'-reflecting on her night with a smile. "S?" She tried again, wondering where her best friend had gone off too this time. When Serena had opted for room service and Sabrina instead of going out, Blair had rushed to check her friend's temperature.
"S, we're in Paris. No use moping over Nate when he's probably screwing-"
"Don't!" Serena shut her eyes and covers her ears like a little girl, while Blair simply quirked an eyebrow.
"Fine. You can stay in here and mope with a box of chocolates instead of going out with your best friend. I'll be sure to let her know you care about her heartbreak as well."
"B," Serena said in that innocent-wouldn't-hurt-a-lamb voice of hers. "You know I'm here for you. I just don't feel like going out today."
She only heard the grunt of approval and the shuffle of shoes against the floor.
"Have fun!" Serena called as Blair slammed the door.
"Serena?" Blair frowned and dropped her clutch on the table, rushing to Serena's room.
What she finds is unexpected, to say in the least. Serena sat in the middle of the expansive bed, phone in hand and silent tears pooled in the corners of her eyes.
"S?" Blair prodded gently, shedding her coat as she climbed onto the bed. As she took her place beside Serena, she silently cursed Nate for leaving her best friend in this state. "Serena, there's no use crying over-"
"Jenny." Serena said quietly, and Blair's back stiffens immediately.
"Don't say her name." Blair's voice is equally quiet, but deadly in its intent. "She has no place in this conversation. No place in our lives-"
"No," Serena cried as she buried her face in her hands. "She's gone."
Blair scoffed, eyeing Serena with a frown as memories of that night flooded her head. "Of course she's gone. I sent that little blonde whore back to Hudson. Where she belongs." The sentence ends in triumph, though there was an underlying sadness in Blair's voice.
"She was in a train crash this morning."
It takes another two minutes before Serena can say the words she's been dreading (hoping? she's not sure anymore) to hear.
"She's on life support, but she's brain dead."
It's extraordinary, really, how one sentence can change things. How a few words can tear your world down ("Stop trying to play the wife.") or change your outlook ("I love you too."). In this case, a simple sentence, choked out through her best friend's sobs, changed everything.
Gone.
Blair stood on shaky legs as she made her way out of the bedroom, and into the kitchen, the guilt weighing on her shoulders.
…
"Blair,"
She refused to meet Serena's gaze, concentrating her gaze on the marble tiled walls.
"B," Serena's voice is accusatory as the blonde sits down beside her, inadvertently pushing her closer to the toilet instead of away.
"I didn't." Blair replied evenly, her gaze still trained on the marble tiles.
"But you were going to," Serena said, and Blair nodded. There was no use in hiding it.
"But you didn't." Serena assured her, hugging her tightly. "I'm so-"
"Don't." Blair whispered. She shut her eyes tightly, fighting the bile that crawled up her throat, fighting the urge to purge the entire box of macarons she had consumed in a fit of desperation.
She was better. She was okay. She was alive. Jeopardizing her health, her life, for something as insignificant as a dress size seemed irrelevant when a sixteen-year-old had, for all intents and purposes, died just hours before.
Died because of her.
"Let's get to bed," Serena suggested quietly. "We can figure out what we want to do in the morning."
Blair swallowed a lump in her throat as she registered the meaning of Serena's words.
"We have to go back," she uttered. It was a simple fact, but the thought of what awaited them back in New York at the very least frightened her. "I don't want to go back."
"We'll talk about it in the morning," Serena refused to meet her eyes as they walked out of the bathroom.
…
Blair didn't sleep much that night. Even when Serena's quiet breathing had evened into a gentle rhythm, Blair lay awake, staring at the chandelier above the bed.
Gone. Serena's words reverberated in her head, and Blair recalled what she had said about Jenny. Little blonde whore. She was gone. It was difficult to grasp, the fact that Jenny Humphrey was completely, and utterly, gone. Even though Blair had hoped to never see the girl again, her mind reeled at the concept of never being able to talk to Jenny again. She understood the emotion welling throughout her entire being.
Regret.
What had her last words been to Jenny? Blair could only recall the anger that had bubbled up between her lips, the hatred she'd possessed. Blair could only recall the sight of Jenny's tears, streams of mascara running down her cheeks. She searched her mind for a memory that could alleviate her guilt, but she came up empty.
Blair turned on her side, squeezing her eyes tighter as the tears threatened to spill over.
…
"How are you holding up?" Serena's voice drifted into the room, and Blair paused at the doorway; having spotted the blonde curled up on the couch, phone by her ear. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains, and Blair quickly checked the time on the clock opposite to her. Had she really slept through the entire afternoon?
"Dan, I-" Blair watched silently as Serena ran a hand through her unruly hair, clearly troubled. "I'm so sorry."
Blair could hear the pain in Serena's voice, and she knew that same pain was reflected tenfold in Dan's voice.
"Jenny was-" Serena paused, and Blair knew that Serena was at a loss for words. "Jenny was a great girl, Dan." Serena finished awkwardly, the false words cold at her lips.
Even from her spot by the bedroom, Blair could hear Dan's mirthless laugh.
She doesn't catch what Dan says next, but Serena's response is enough to hazard a guess.
"It's not Blair's fault."
Yes it is, Blair can almost hear Dan saying; and she is loath to disagree.
"Dan," Serena's voice is steely. "You're grieving. I understand. But you have no right to take this out on Blair. She was hurt too-"
There was a pause, a stillness in the air that was almost too painful to bear.
"No," Serena agreed quietly. "She's not dead."
Another pause, and Blair leaned her head against the doorframe, her eyes shut, wishing she could block out what she had just heard.
"You don't mean that," Serena's voice, although she was attempting to be quiet, still carried over to Blair's ears. "Dan, she's my best friend. You don't mean that."
This time, there was no pause as Serena rambled on. "What happened was an accident. Blair didn't orchestrate it, and she doesn't deserve to die either" Serena took a deep breath.
Clearing her throat, Blair stepped out from the confines of the shadows, her expression unreadable as Serena whipped around.
"Dan, I've got to go." Serena watched her carefully as she made her way to the opposite chair, her face betraying no expression.
"I-I love you too," Serena said in bewilderment, and Blair raised an eyebrow. "And give my love to my mom and Eric," Serena amended quickly.
"Bye."
Serena sat, phone in hand, an expression of puzzlement on her face. Shaking her head slightly, she turned to Blair with a comforting smile.
"How did you sleep?"
"Fine," Blair answered monotonously. "You should've woken me up earlier."
"I didn't see a point," Serena apologized with a shrug. "I talked to my mom earlier today."
Serena paused, attempting to read Blair's expression. "They're keeping her on life support for two more days. We could stay for a few more days, take the Bass jet-"
"No." Blair shook her head vehemently. "I already called Daddy last night. He's sending a plane tonight."
"Are you sure?" Serena ventured cautiously. "We can stay for a few days if you-"
"There's no sense in putting it off," Blair admitted. "We have to go back. And I'd rather not have our time in Paris dampened by-by Jenny's…"
Serena nodded, pulling her knees to her chest as she looked at Blair sadly. "My mom said she wasn't able to get a hold of Chuck." Blair winced inwardly, but maintained her composure. If these past three weeks had taught her anything, it was how to bury her hurt over what had transpired. "Nobody's heard from him in a few weeks, apparently. Do you know if-"
"I don't know anything," Blair cut in sharply. "If you recall, the last time we saw each other he had just fucked-" the name caught in her throat, and she found herself unable to form the words.
Serena sighed, standing up and stretching her arms above her head. "We've got one afternoon left in Paris, B." She grinned, but it was forced enough to look comical, even to Blair. "Let's enjoy it."
Blair could only smile half-heartedly as Serena tried on a yellow sundress that reminded her of another blonde in a ruffled yellow ball gown and a delicate gold mask.
…
Chuck frowned at the mush that constituted as dinner, shooting another glare at the hefty Czech nurse who had been assigned to him. He hadn't even been able to use his name to have some sway because he knew that as soon as they learned of his real name, Lily would be on a plane faster than you could say "I'm Chuck Bass".
Instead, he told them that he was an orphan (it was technically true) by the name of Victor Martin. He had used his Parisian bank account to pay the hospital bills, knowing that Lily had no knowledge of its existence.
As he took in the mush in front of him, he wondered if it would be so bad if they found out-at the very least he would be free to eat something other than this gruel. But a single rationalization killed the thought immediately. Blair. He didn't want her pity. If she forgave him because he was shot-and not because she still loved him, he knew their reunion would be meaningless.
He turned to his phone instead, the one he had bribed the janitor to buy for him when he had discovered his old Blackberry had been stolen. Along with the rest of his things-including her ring.
It was a habit of his, to check Gossip Girl daily while constrained to the hospital bed. He had learned of Georgina's pregnancy (he wasn't really surprised. He was shocked it hadn't happened before this.), Nate's forays into his little black book (he wasn't surprised in the least. Some of the things those girls could do…), and Serena and Blair's trip to Paris.
Paris. They were so close-closer than he had expected. As he recuperated on the hospital bed he had imagined grand romantic gestures and surprises in Paris. Had imagined showing up and winning her back in the City of Love.
The only problem was, he could never act on any of those plans
He idly wondered what Blair was up to in Paris today-Gossip Girl had been incredibly useful in describing Blair's whereabouts as of late. But as the page loaded, the picture was not of a suntanned Blair shopping on the Champs Elysees, but of a burning train. His eyes ran over the post with alarming quickness, the phrases jumping out at him.
One of the greatest tragedies in the history of Gossip Girl has come to pass. My sources tell me that Little J was onboard the train to Hudson this morning. You know the one; it's been plastered all over your TVs for the past hour. Little J was on her way to live with her mother-all the doing of the Queen B, of course. Rumor is, she sent little J packing when it was discovered that J had slept with C. Shocked? I was. Almost as shocked as when I heard this…little J survived, but barely. The poor girl is brain dead. We'll miss you little J. To the Humphreys, my deepest condolences.
Wonder what B has to say?
You know you love me, XOXO
Gossip Girl.
The room swam before his eyes as another wave of pain overtook his body, numbing the thoughts that were forming in his head.
This was your fault.
His fingers shook as he typed in the familiar number. He had not talked to the littlest van der Woodsen since leaving for Prauge, their last encounter still fresh in his mind.
"You know, I really thought you had changed," Eric sneered, an expression so unlike him that Chuck had reeled back in disbelief.
"Eric, I can explain, I-"
"Took advantage of Jenny? You know, Chuck, this is a new low, even for you. She's your step-sister!"
"I didn't-"
"Whatever, Chuck. We both know what happened at the Kiss on the Lips party two years ago, and I truly believed you'd changed since then. I guess not."
The disgust on Eric's face, coupled with Blair's earlier rejection, sent him over the edge, pushing Eric into the wall by his shoulders.
"I didn't take advantage of her," he growled, and Eric's malicious expression changed in seconds, replaced with an expression of fear.
"Get off me," Eric said quietly, and Chuck acquiesced, backing away in surrender.
"I didn't mean to-"
But it was too late, the younger boy already stomping away in the direction of the elevator.
The ringtone in his ear drowned out his thoughts, if only for a moment.
This
"Hello?" a quiet voice on the other end answered.
Was
"Eric." He replied easily, every bit the Chuck Bass he had been before the shooting. He was suddenly glad Eric couldn't see his face-he was only able to mask the emotion in his voice.
Your
"Chuck?" The question was a mix of anger and sadness-but mostly relief.
Fault.
…
"How was your flight?" Lily asked, setting down a cup of tea in front of her daughter.
Serena smiled tiredly, taking the tea with a grateful nod. "Fine. How are you?"
"We're holding up the best we can," Lily said with a sad smile. "Dan and Rufus have all but moved in at the hospital-and Eric rarely spends time away from Jenny's room. He- I'm not sure how he'll take her death."
Serena nodded, knowing what her mother meant. "I'll talk to him," she promised. "Jenny wouldn't want him to-"
"He keeps talking about seeing her again," Fear seeped into Serena's heart, and as much as she had been distraught over Jenny's death, she knew that her brother would take it even harder. "I don't know what to do, what to say"
"Mom," Serena turned to her mother, tears in her own eyes. "He'll be okay."
Lily nodded, blinking back tears. "It's been so quiet," she mused. "I can't bear to be at the hospital too long. But I've tried, Serena, I've tried to be there for him. For them."
"Rufus?" Serena asked quietly.
Lily nodded, brushing away another tear. "And Dan. I can't imagine what it's like, losing a child. "
"You'll never have to know," Serena promised. "I'll talk to Eric when we visit."
She hugged her mom one last time before turning to leave, clutching her a little tighter usual. Just in case.
"Serena?" Lily called as Serena pressed the button for the elevator. "One more thing. Dan…he's not taking this well."
"I doubt that he would," Serena said ruefully "His sister is brain dead."
"Just be there for him," Lily suggested. "He needs a friend right now, even if all he's doing is pushing them away. He's not-he's not himself, and he doesn't mean the things he's saying."
Serena recalled the phone conversation, the almost sincere I love you at the end, and nodded to her mom with determination in her eyes.
She would be a friend helping another friend through his grief. Nothing more.
…
"Hey man,"
Nate dropped a box on the side table, the scent of freshly baked pastries wafting through the air.
They did nothing to tempt his non-existent appetite.
"How are you holding up?"
"Fine," Dan said sarcastically. "I'm fucking fine, watching my brain dead sister breathe with the help of about ten machines."
"Whoa," Nate held his hands up in surrender. "Dan, I'm sorry for what happened."
"Yeah, I know." Dan sighed, running his fingers through his unwashed hair. "It's just- I don't want to-I can't-"
"It's okay," Nate said awkwardly, patting Dan on the shoulder as he dissolved into another round of sobs.
"Serena called just before I got here," Nate blurted out when Dan's sobs had subsided. He winced inwardly at his words, but continued on. "She wasn't sure if she could call you and she wanted you to know she and Blair would be-"
"Blair?" his voice is deadly quiet, and Nate wonders at how he can be sobbing one moment and angry the next. "What the fuck is Blair doing, coming here?"
"She knew Jenny too," Nate supplied unhelpfully, as he was wondering the same thing.
"She hated Jenny," Dan reminded him angrily "She's the reason Jenny's dead."
"Dan-" Nate tried, but he was cut off immediately.
"Don't Dan me, you know it's true. If she didn't send Jenny away, Jenny would be alive."
"You know that's not true," Nate tried again. "I get it, you're angry, but none of this is Blair's fault."
"You're right," Dan sneered, and Nate recoiled at his voice, which was so unlike Dan Humphrey. "It's Chuck's fault as well."
"It's not-"
"You know what Nate? If you're just going to sit there and deny the truth, I'd rather you get out."
Shock played out across his features as he registered Dan's words. It was as if he had completely changed, his demeanor morphed into one that was completely unlike Dan Humphrey.
But as Nate's gaze traveled over the broken form of Jenny Humphrey, he understood that Dan was grieving, his actions and words could be justified as the ramblings of grief.
"I'll see you later," he said quietly, eyeing Dan from the corner of his eye as he exited the room. Dan's eyes were trained solely on his sister, his red eyes never leaving her face.
…
"Blair?"
She jumped slightly at the sound of her mother's voice, straightening her skirt as her mother rounded the corner.
"Dorota said you were home," Eleanor offered as an explanation. "Your father called me to tell me you were coming back early."
Blair nodded, fingering the rough edge of a lacy pillow. "Serena and I thought it would be best if we came back early."
"I'm assuming you heard about Jenny?" Eleanor asked quietly, sitting opposite of Blair.
The name sent another spike of regret through Blair, and she only nodded again, still playing with the lace. It seemed odd that something so delicate and easily torn could also feel coarse under the pads of her fingertips.
"Such a shame," Eleanor lamented. "She had such a bright future in front of her."
The regret mixed in slightly with jealousy, and Blair found herself tearing a hole in the delicate fabric.
"She was one of your friends, wasn't she?" Eleanor inquired, and Blair found herself gripped with a strange desire to laugh.
"We were...acquaintances" Blair said in reluctance. She wouldn't go so far as to call herself and Jenny friends, but enemies seemed inappropriate at such a time.
Eleanor nodded, attempting an encouraging smile as she patted her daughter's cheek fondly. "I'm just glad it wasn't you, darling."
Blair blanched at the odd display of motherly love, and a tiny voice in her head told her that quite a few people wished that it had been her instead.
"I don't know what I would have done if it was you," Eleanor said quietly. "I've never really been a mother to you, have I?"
She plastered a smile on as she assuaged Eleanor's guilt with meaningless assurances. Seemingly placated, her mother kissed her forehead, a promise of brunch a whisper against her hair.
The smile dropped from her face almost immediately after her mother rounded the corner, leaving Blair to wonder what had changed in Eleanor.
She realized that Jenny, or rather, Jenny's death, had changed her mother. Changed her from a cold and slightly neglectful mother into an almost unfamiliar woman. Eleanor was showing-in that detached way of hers-love. In the completely unusual manner of Eleanor Waldorf, her mother was showing her that she cared.
I'm just glad it wasn't you.
Wasn't that appropriate for a mother to say to her daughter? Blair had to wonder at her mother's words-they had been so unlike the cruelty she had been dealt years prior. She was feeling remorseful, Blair decided. It could just have easily been Blair on that hospital bed once upon a time, and Eleanor had only just realized that.
A tiny smile, a smile of hope, blossomed on her lips as she recalled her mother's words once more.
I don't know what I would have done if it was you.
…
"Hey Dan."
"Vanessa." he acknowledged, glancing up at her briefly before resuming his count of the green tiles.
"I heard about Jenny. I didn't know if you wanted me here." she paused for a second, rethinking her words. "Well, I'm sorry for-"
"Don't, Vanessa. Just don't."
"Okay," she whispered, sitting beside him. His hand found hers in an instant, and it was through his crushing grip that Vanessa realized the extent of his grief.
"I don't want to go back in just yet," he confessed. "Will you stay with me?"
She nodded as tears threatened to spill over.
…
Blair had not expected the guilt that assaulted her the moment she walked through the hospital doors.
It was as if every small piece of regret that she had experienced since hearing the news had snowballed into the leaden ball of guilt in her chest.
Every step she took, her hand clutching Serena's tightly, did nothing to lessen the guilt that threatened to consume her.
They arrived at her room and Serena reached instinctively for the doorknob, before a voice interrupted them both.
"Serena!" Rufus called as he approached the two girls, coffees in hand. "And…Blair."
"Rufus!" Serena cried, "I'm so sorry about-"
"Thank you, Serena," Rufus replied. "It means a lot that you're here."
Serena nodded, looking sideways at a silent Blair. She nudged her best friend slightly, hoping that propriety would win out in the end.
"Eric's in there," Rufus said quietly. "I'm sure he would both be glad to see you. Dan's…out at the moment, but he'll be back son. Vanessa was here too, and Nate said he'd drop by later."
Serena nodded, glancing one last time at Blair as she stepped inside the room.
Rufus turned to follow her, and for the first time, Blair noticed the grief etched around his eyes-the tiredness in his face and the almost despondent slope of his shoulders.
"Rufus I-" she paused to collect herself as he turned, with nary a trace of resentment in his tired face. "I'm sor-"
He shook his head, "I know, Blair. Thank you."
It was obvious to her that he thought her words were out of propriety rather than true compassion.
"I didn't mean for this to happen," she tried again. "I didn't want that train to crash-"
"I know you didn't," he replied simply. "I'll have you know, your threat meant nothing to me, and it certainly didn't affect my decision to send her to Hudson. She became a different person here, she changed too much, saw too much. She needed a change of pace, a change of people."
Blair nodded, and satisfied with his piece, Rufus walked past her and into the room. He turned at the last moment, before the door shut completely.
And he saw a girl. A young girl, her hands limp and shoulders clenched. Her face betraying the emotion she worked so hard to hide.
Rufus half-expected Blair to come into the room as well, but as he sat down beside his daughter and passed coffee to Eric, the door remained closed.
…
Blair had caught a glimpse into the room before the door shut behind Rufus. She had seen the mass of dirty blonde hair and the numerous machines keeping her alive. She had heard the beeping, but the sound of sobbing drowned out the noise almost entirely. Lily had her arm around Serena, tears streaming down his own face as Serena cried into her hands. Eric was behind them, his face ashen as he looked at the girl on the bed. There was another woman there too-Jenny's mother, Blair realized-silent tears running down her cheeks as she stood a little ways away, as if she couldn't bear to be near her dying (dead) daughter.
Right before the door shut, she caught sight of Rufus' face-a flicker of pity weaving through his tiredness.
And then all she could see was a pastel green door and a white doorknob.
She stared at that door for an indeterminable amount of time, wrestling with the decision to go in. Blair knew that she didn't have to go in, had given her apologies and said her condolences. Decorum dictated as much, but she didn't need to go into the hospital room. But a part of her, a minuscule part, wanted to go in. She wanted to be there for Serena and Eric, but mostly she wanted to see for herself the extent of the damage she had inflicted.
Instead, she found herself retracing her steps back to the front of the hospital, the guilt bearing down upon her frail shoulders.
Her left hand clutched her bag tightly, her right hand closing around the hospital door with forced purposefulness. She pushed the door open into the bright sunshine of a New York afternoon in the summer.
The heavy summer air of New York was a welcome respite from the unnatural chill in the hospital. A bone chilling cold that had not solely been due to the air conditioning.
But it was not only the humidity that met her upon her exit, but a tall, disheveled, brunette with tired eyes and a cane in his left hand.
The weight of the day, the exhaustion borne from travelling and the emotional display she had just witnessed, all became too much to bear as his eyes sought hers.
"Blair-" he croaked, his voice so far from the deep, smooth drawl she was used to. Brown eyes met brown, his lost, and hers tired. Time stopped, if only for a moment, while they stared at each other with hope (him) and betrayal (her). And then, as if the moment had never happened, the din of the city reached her ears once more.
"Stay away from me," she whispered as she brushed past him.
Her eyes were miraculously dry as she stepped towards her waiting car, not daring to look back.
Once within its confines, however, she was powerless against the sobs that consumed her.
tbc