145. you and i are a story (that never gets told); chapter six
Title | you and i are a story (that never gets told)
Chapter| six
Rating | pg-13
Characters| Blair + Dan. Nate/Serena.
Summary | Give me back my future, Blair had thought. You take everything from me.
Notes | Canon applies for all episodes of Gossip Girl up to the s4 finale. This fic is loosely based on the movie Life As We Know It. I do not own these characters, etc, etc. Title is from a Taylor Swift song.
Manhattan, 2014.
Her phone won't stop ringing.
She silences it without thought the first time, returning her attention to her meaning and her argument with her co-worker, Benjy, who is always wrong about everything.
"We cannot put her on the cover," she says through gritted teeth, referring to the latest socialite-slash-actress-slash-golddigger who's managed to catch his attention. "It will do damage to our reputation."
"Scandal is good for the soul!" Benjy argues, gesticulating dramatically.
Her phone goes off again and again and again, until Benjy sits back in his chair, sulking.
"You may as well answer it, B," he says scathingly. "Sounds important."
She shoots everyone else at the table an apologetic look. "Why don't we do something brainstorming?" she offers, trying not to sound frustrated. "I'll be back in just a moment, I'm sorry about this."
Outside of the conference room, she looks at her phone for the first time, and is startled to see that all six missed calls are from Nate. Her heart thuds, heavy and dreadful, and then her phone starts to ring once again, Nate's name flashing on the screen.
"Nate?" she asks, picking up immediately.
"Can you come over?" he asks, not bothering with a hello, and the roughness of his voice makes her throat tight. "Can you - I need you to come over. Right now."
Her feet start to move at that, without her brain giving them direct permission. "What's wrong?"
"I - " His voice cracks and he has to start over, "I had to call an ambulance for Serena. I need you to come here and watch Lilah so I can get to the hospital."
She steps into the elevator, jabbing the buttons, and her voice comes out as a whisper when she asks, "What happened?"
Lilah starts to wail in the background and Nate lets out a ragged sigh. "I don't know," he whispers back, and then his voice drops even lower as he tries to comfort his daughter.
"I'll be there," she promises, gripping her phone tightly. "I'll get a cab, I'll be there as soon as I can."
Blair doesn't stop to think about anything when Nate swings open the door of his new home, not even the look on his face and the way it tugs at her heart. She reaches out to take Lilah from his arms, cuddling the sniffling toddler. "Go," she says softly.
He nods once, pressing a kiss to the side of Lilah's head before he moves past her and gets into the cab she'd told to wait at the curb.
"Dada..." Lilah sighs, watching him go.
Blair bounces Lilah gently in her arms. "Your daddy just went to see your mommy," she explains softly, stepping into the house and closing the door behind her. "They'll be back soon..."
Lilah blinks blue eyes at her and it's the first time Blair really, truly sees Serena in Lilah's face - it's so very clear that it's startling enough to take her breath away for a moment. "Mama?" Lilah asks curiously.
She takes a deep breath and nods. "Yes, your mommy and daddy will be back," she says firmly. "We just have to wait for them." She wracks her brain for an activity of some sort and comes up blank. "Let's have some juice, Lilah, okay?"
"Juice!" Lilah chirps happily, her pout slipping away, and Blair breathes a sigh of relief.
The fridge is packed full of food, take-out containers and leftovers, vegetables and two different kinds of milk, fruit juices and a small, carefully packaged cheesecake. Blair takes out the bottle of apple juice and nudges the refrigerator door closed with her hip.
"B," Lilah says, stretching out a hand over Blair's shoulder, tiny fingers pointing toward the sonogram picture stuck onto the fridge with colourful magnets, B A B Y.
Blair swallows. "Let's have our juice, sweetie..."
Lilah nods but she keeps pointing, announcing solemnly, "In Mommy."
She sits Lilah carefully on the counter, grabbing a sippy cup to pour the juice into. "Yes," she agrees quietly. "Your baby sister's inside of your mommy."
"Sister," Lilah agrees with another little nod.
Blair screws the lid of the sippy cup on tightly before she hands it to the toddler. "Here you go, here's your juice."
"Appa juice," Lilah says, yawning before she sticks the spout of the cup between her lips.
"Are you tired, sweetie?" Blair asks, turning her back on the fridge the sonogram stuck to the front of it. "Do you need a nap?"
Lilah shakes her head, mouth still around the spout of the cup, her little legs kicking out happily.
Blair glances over at the stove, checking the clock for the time. It's just shortly after 10 a.m. Nate started calling her around 9:20, which means that it hasn't been that long since Serena was taken to the hospital. She has so many questions, too many questions - but no one to ask.
She looks back at Lilah. It's still very early for her first nap, but she looks a little drowsy, and the panic, the paramedics rushing in, it must have disoriented her a bit. Blair knows that she can't call Nate, but if she can get Lilah to nap, she can call the hospital and see if she can get some information on what's happening.
"Let's go upstairs," she suggests, scooping Lilah back up. "Up to your bed..."
Lilah leans her head against Blair's shoulder. "Mama, B?"
Blair rubs her back softly. "Your mommy will be back later," she promises, not letting herself dwell on those words for too long. "I'll read you a story and you can have a little nap..."
It takes two stories to get Lilah to drift off. She falls into a light sleep that probably won't last much more than an hour, but Blair will take that for all it's worth. She draws the blinds and turns on Lilah's nightlight, grabbing the baby monitor before she slips out of the room, leaving the door cracked.
She moves through the hallway slowly, trying to come up with a plan. She needs to call someone, to do something - she can't just sit around waiting for Lilah to wake up again.
She peeks into the nursery, sighing at the sight of the decorations she'd helped Serena pick out. Nate and Serena were so excited about this baby - Blair doesn't think she'll ever forget the way Serena had been glowing, so brightly she'd almost had to look away, when they'd come to visit after their short honeymoon. I'm pregnant, Serena had laughed into Blair's shoulder, when the two of them had hugged.
She'd blinked in confusion, asked, before the wedding... And Serena had laughed again, shaking her head, shrugging slightly - she'd just known, even though she was only a few days pregnant at the time, and a doctor's appointment the next week had proved her right.
The nursery is decidedly girly, since they'd found out the gender of their baby this time, so that they could tell Lilah with certainty that she was going to have a little sister. There are pale purples and pastel pinks everywhere, a crib and dresser and changing table in off-white wood, a rocking chair draped with blankets. There is a mobile of little pink teddy bears, a framed photograph of Nate kissing Serena's belly on the wall, and a mural of stars on the ceiling. Everything was ready to bring a little girl home to - but the baby wasn't due for another couple weeks.
But it can't be anything to worry about; babies come early all the time. Blair closes the door of the nursery, holding tightly to the doorknob for a few seconds, and then moves further down the hallway, toward the stairs.
She pauses in front of the master bedroom, glancing into it. The door is half-open and it's dark, all the curtains pulled shut and no lights on. She nudges the door open with her toes, feeling oddly like she's infringing on very private space. She's been into this room a few times, once shortly after the house was remodelled, once when Serena still had morning sickness and spent half of every day for a week curled up in her bed, and on a couple other insignificant occasions. But still, there's a flutter of nervousness inside of her just before she flicks the light switch.
Blair actually lets out a little scream, and immediately brings a hand up to cover her mouth, lips clamped shut tightly. She stays still, completely frozen, waiting to hear the wails of a toddler, but they never come. The tension seeps out of her shoulders slowly - Lilah is still asleep, thank god, because her hands are shaking too much to pick up a little girl and comfort her right now - but her eyes remain wide and fixed on the ugly, terrible, way-too-large stain of blood on the pale blue bedsheets.
She fumbles for her Blackberry and scrolls through her contacts until she hits Nate's name, but she knows right away that she can't call Nate right now. She wants to, so badly, but she knows that she can't. She has to be his support, he can't be hers. He's dealing with much bigger things, and she needs to stay in this house and take care of his daughter and not bother him with panicked phone calls.
She scrolls up and hits the button to dial and her throat seems to swell as the line rings and rings and rings.
"Humphrey." Apparently that's how he answers his phone now, which she would honestly find borderline hilarious in any other circumstances, but right now all she can do is clutch her phone to her ear and breathe. There's a pause, during which he must check the caller ID, and then he says, "Blair? Hello?"
"Do people - " She blurts two words out and then stops herself, reining in nervous laughter. "Women don't still die in childbirth," she says firmly, refusing to phrase it as a question. "That doesn't happen now, not with modern medicine. It's impossible."
"Uh," he says, confused. "I don't...I'm sorry, what?"
There is too much blood on that bed; no one should bleed that much all of a sudden, especially not a woman in the third trimester of her pregnancy. "It's impossible," Blair repeats, but there's a little quaver in her voice all of a sudden.
It takes Dan a couple more seconds, but to his credit, he puts the pieces together. "What happened?" he asks quickly. "Is it Serena? What's going on?"
"I don't know," she says. That's the most horrible part, just standing there, frozen and wondering. "Nate called me to come take care of Lilah and...he said he had to call an ambulance for her. They're both at the hospital. I don't know what's going on."
"Shit," Dan breathes.
Blair lifts a hand to rub at her forehead. She desperately needs to get out of this room, out of this moment, but she can't make herself move. "I'm..."
"You're freaking out," Dan fills in quietly.
She doesn't need to reply to that. It's obvious that she is.
"Which is...totally understandable," he says firmly. "Look, I'll...I'll come over there."
She takes a sharp breath. "Why?"
There's rustling on his end of the phone, like he's gathering things together and putting on his coat. "So we can freak out together," he says easily.
It takes Dan just under half an hour to get to the house, and he's smart enough to knock rather than ring the bell so that Lilah doesn't wake up.
"Any news?" he asks when she opens the door to him.
She shakes her head, stepping aside so that he can cross the threshold. "No." She closes the door behind him.
"How long do you plan on waiting before you cave in and call?"
Blair hates that question, the way it makes it sound like he knows her so well, but the look on his face is ridiculously earnest, so she answers honestly, "Another three hours, I guess."
He nods, dropping his messenger bag by the coat-tree and toeing off his shoes. "You left work?" he guesses.
"Yes." She draws in a breath. "I actually have a job to leave."
He rolls his eyes half-heartedly. "I work from home," he says.
"You don't work. You pretend to."
"I wrote a novel, Blair," he reminds her.
"It was hardly literature," she says, turning on her heel and walking toward the living room.
"It sold pretty well," he says, trailing after her.
"I wouldn't know, I never read it." She purses her lips slightly, feeling the oddest temptation to smile as she takes a seat on the couch. "And don't brag, it's crass."
He sits next to her and ducks his head, like he's trying not to smile, too. "Okay," he says after a moment. "Sorry."
She nods.
They sit in silence for a few minutes, neither of them quite able to relax into the couch.
"Have you seen any good movies lately?" he tries after the quiet starts to feel a little awkward.
She lifts a hand and rubs lightly at the bridge of her nose. "I can't remember."
He nods shortly. "That's fair."
She feels nauseated suddenly and she closes her eyes, trying to breathe through it. She's not going to be sick. She only had a quarter of a bagel and a grapefruit for breakfast; she doesn't need to be sick.
Except she really, really does.
"Excuse me for a moment," she tells Dan in a controlled voice, standing up. "I'll be right back."
She throws up twice in the en suite master bathroom. Walking past that bed, with the blood stained on the sheets, was enough to trigger her gag reflex - she didn't even need to stick her finger down her throat. She trembles the whole time, sweat beading at her hairline.
Afterward, she sits on the bathmat, feeling drained. She doesn't even have the energy to get up and wash her hands and check her makeup; she doesn't have the energy for much of anything. Her hair feels limp against her cheeks and she swats at it angrily. She feels frightened and young - she feels like she needs her best friend.
She'll never be sure how long it takes Dan to come looking for her, but eventually he does. He knocks on the door several times before he cracks it open, peeking in, and then steps in to the join her.
"Hey," he says, hovering awkwardly by the sink.
Blair covers her face with her hands. "Go away."
He crouches down next to her, tugging her hands away gently. "Are you sick?"
"No," she whispers.
He shifts to sit next to her, touching her back lightly. "Are you making yourself sick?" His tone is even and his voice is soft, it sounds exactly like his previous question, if not for the fact that they're both entirely aware of the difference.
"Go away," she repeats, tilting her head back against the side of the bathtub, staring at the light fixture on the ceiling until spots appear in front of her eyes.
He doesn't move. Instead, he starts rubbing her back, which startles her so much that she physically jerks forward a little, but half a second later she finds herself leaning into his touch. "Serena usually helps you with this," he says quietly. It's not a question.
She nods slightly, hardly moving.
Dan's hand moves in soft circles over the middle of her back. "You'll be okay," he says. "She'll be okay."
"No," she says softly. "Don't make promises that you can't keep."
"You're her best friend," he reasons, "so I can assume that her doctor is the best of the best, and that you made sure of that. Things happen sometimes. Things happen with perfectly healthy people and perfectly healthy babies. But there are ways to fix those things. You can't know that this will end well but you can't know that this will end badly, either."
She swallows hard. "Is that the kind of thing you write in your so-called books?"
He huffs a laugh, hand still moving against her back. "Uh, no. Not...exactly."
"Good." She closes her eyes. "It's horrible."
She can actually feel his smile, the warmth of it, as much as she wants to pretend that she can't. "I should hire you to be my editor."
"I already have a job, Humphrey. Remember? A real one."
"Right, right." He leans his head lightly against hers, and she lets him.
They're quiet for a long time, but this time it doesn't get awkward. It's not entirely comfortable and maybe it's a little tense, but they both allow it to linger. She keeps her eyes closed, just listening to the steady pattern of Dan's inhales and exhales - it's soothing, in a way.
When she's ready, she curls up to his side, hiding her face against his shoulder. His hand stills against her back and she holds her breath for a moment before she whispers, "What if they lose the baby?"
He sighs. She thinks he might kiss her forehead, but she's not completely sure. "I don't know," he says quietly. "I don't know."
She feels tearful over that, tearful and guilty, because the majority of those tears are selfish. She would mourn for that baby, of course she would. She'd mourn for the little girl who never got to come home to her room. She would be sad for Serena and Nate, for everything this would do to them, as individuals, as a couple, as a family; of course she would be sad for them.
But she would be sad for herself too, for the gulf it would put in her relationship with Serena. Her best friend is busy living her perfect married life, but she's still Blair's best friend, and they still depend on each other. It would be a gap in empathy she'd never be able to cross, a private grief that she'd never understand.
Because Blair has never lost a baby that she wanted to keep, has never had that kind of choice stolen away from her.
Five hours after Blair first arrived at the Archibald home, Dan is on the floor doing puzzles with Lilah.
He's smiling at the toddler fondly, leaning down toward her. "I don't think that piece fits there," he says gently after Lilah's tried to jam it into the same spot several times. "Do you want to try it somewhere else..." He guides her hand to another place in the puzzle. "How about there, huh?"
Blair's sitting in the corner of the couch, jittery - the cup of black coffee cradled in her hands isn't helping much. "I don't know where you get the patience," she murmurs.
He glances up at her, still smiling slightly. "Jenny was good practice."
Lilah squeaks joyfully, both little hands lifting into the air in triumph when the piece fits into the puzzle.
And Dan grins at her like she's the only thing in the world. "Good job," he praises. "Do you want to try another one?"
Blair smiles vaguely and pulls her cell phone out from between the couch cushions, scrolling through her calls menu and pressing the button that re-dials.
It rings and rings and rings and rings, but there's never a response.
Lilah's giggling brightly when Blair hangs up, her tiny hand on Dan's face.
"You got my nose!" he exclaims, making her giggle even more. He pulls her hand back from his face and kisses her palm before he glances up at Blair. "Still no answer from Nate?"
"I'm not calling Nate," she confesses. "I'm calling...Chuck."
Dan frowns slightly, a hand on Lilah's back to steady her as she pushes herself up to her feet. "Why?"
She fidgets in the couch corner. "They would tell him what's happening. The hospital would, I mean. He's technically Serena's brother."
Dan stares at her for a moment, seemingly stunned, and just when she opens her mouth to ask what's wrong with him, he says, "So am I."
Dan stays home with Lilah, still fully engrossed in their puzzles, and Blair goes to the hospital by herself. She'd listened in on Dan's phone call, occasionally whacking his arm and talking him through what to say, and they'd managed to find out that Serena was just getting out of surgery and being moved to room 446.
It's easy to find the room once she gets there - Nate is standing right outside it, in the hallway, running a hand through his hair. He's got a phone pressed to his ear but as soon as he spots her he drops his hand.
"Hey," he says quietly. "I was just...calling you."
She walks right into him, her arms going around him a hug. "Is she okay?"
"They did an emergency c-section," he says by her ear. "It took - god, it took way too long. But she...she's okay. She's just waking up now, she's really drowsy, but they said that if things keep going well...she'll be okay."
Blair sighs, pressing her face into his shoulder for a moment. "Good," she says very firmly. "Good." She pulls back a bit to look at his face. "And your daughter?"
Nate's mouth twists into what's probably meant to be an optimistic half-smile but comes off as more of a grimace. "They're working on her."
She leans in to hug him again. "It'll be okay," she whispers. "She'll be okay."
"Yeah," he says tightly, and she knows he doesn't quite believe her. She can't blame him for that; she doesn't quite believe herself.
She doesn't let go of him for another moment. "Let's go in," she says softly after a beat. "Let's go in and sit with Serena."
Nate nods. "Who's with Li?"
"Dan is. She's fine," Blair promises. "They're doing puzzles."
"Yeah...she likes that." Nate blinks as if he's just realizing what he said. "You called Dan?"
"No." Blair blinks too, batting her eyelashes innocently. "You must have. He just showed up."
"No, I didn't..."
She rubs his arm gently. "It's been a long day. Don't worry about it."
He scowls at her, grumbles, "You called Dan..." But he doesn't press it further than that, turning to lead the way into the hospital room.
Serena is paler than Blair is prepared for, propped against pillows, her eyelids heavily. "Hi," Blair breathes, suddenly nervous, wringing her hands.
"B," Serena murmurs, forcing a tiny smile onto her mouth, her eyes still a little hazy. It reminds Blair of years ago, of a hospital stay after a car accident, of when she could still rescue Serena and fix things, of when she was right about it all, of when she had faith in her own judgment.
Serena looks to Nate then, smile fading away. "Is she..."
"They're going to tell us right away," he says soothingly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Right away, as soon as there's news."
"She'll be fine, S," Blair adds lightly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. She touches Serena's hand, squeezing her fingers gently. "Are you feeling alright? Is there anything I can do for you?"
Serena blinks like she doesn't understand the question. "I - " Her gaze goes to Nate again, seeking him out; he's the one she needs right now. "I need to see her," she says quietly.
"I know, honey," he says just as quietly. Just that, nothing more.
And Blair stays perched on the edge of Serena's uncomfortable hospital bed, holding her best friend's hand, waiting.
Serena is sound asleep, breathing deeply, when the doctor comes in to talk to Nate. He speaks in quiet tones, explaining complications with things that Blair doesn't understand enough to pay any real attention to. She keeps holding Serena's hand, her fingers closed carefully around her friend's, just in case.
"She's a little small and she needs some help breathing right now so we're giving her that. We'll watch her around the clock for the next few days, and you know that nothing's guaranteed, but things look good right now, they really do."
"So she's okay?" Nate breathes, all the hope in the world in his voice.
Blair cuts her gaze to the doctor, her heart in her throat, say yes, say yes, say yes.
The doctor smiles. "Yes," he says simply. "She's doing alright."
She releases Serena's hand slowly, lifting her hand to her chest instead, feeling her heart settle. She almost doesn't hear when Nate asks her to come with him to the NICU to see his daughter.
The baby is a tiny, pink thing that doesn't seem quite ready to be out in the world, wrinkled and squirming. It startles Blair a little - she's never seen anyone so very small. She can remember coming to the hospital after Lilah was born and holding her neice for the first time. Lilah had been a solid, warm weight, nine pounds of newborn baby swaddled in blankets and placed carefully in Blair's arms, bright blue eyes half open as she yawned. This baby looks like she'd weigh nothing at all, just a slip of a thing in the middle of her incubator, wires and tubes taped to her little body.
"Hey, baby," Nate whispers tenderly, slipping his hand into the glove in the side of the incubator. "Hey there, do you remember me..." He touches his daughter very gently, tracing the bridge of her tiny nose, picking up one of her little feet. "Your Mommy and I were so, so worried about you..."
"She's beautiful," Blair says softly, because it feels like the kind of thing she's supposed to say, not necessarily because it's true.
Nate huffs a half-laugh, half-sigh, like he might know she's lying, but he doesn't take his eyes off his daughter, touching her miniscule fingers.
She touches his shoulder. "What's her name?"
"Gabriella," he says quietly.
Blair nods. "That's pretty."
"It means something religious," he mumbles. "I can't remember what. Serena just really liked the sound of it." He glances over at her. "We'll probably end up calling her Gabby."
Blair looks back at that little baby, tiny but alive. "Or Ella," she suggests lightly.
The baby's fingers wrap around Nate's thumb then and she squirms, kicking a leg up. Nate breathes a laugh, beaming down at her. "Do you like that?" he wonders softly. "Should we call you Ella? You can thank your Auntie Blair for that..." He's quiet for another moment, still smiling, and then he says softly, "Thank you for today."
She doesn't take her eyes off his daughter. "Of course."
She calls Dan in the hospital hallway after Serena wakes up, standing outside the NICU, looking through the large window, watching Nate and Serena watch their daughter.
"How's Lilah?" she asks quietly once they've said their hellos.
"She's good," he says easily. "Asking about her mom and dad occasionally, but we're reading stories now. How are things going over there?"
"They're good, too." Blair tips her head back against the wall for a moment. "Serena's awake and recovering. The baby's in intensive care, but...they're optimistic," she says decisively. She likes the way that sounds.
"Good," Dan says on a relieved sigh. "You have a baby sister," he adds, his voice a little distant, talking to Lilah. "Does she have a name yet?" he asks Blair.
She nods, momentarily forgetting that he can't see her. "Ella."
There's a smile in his voice when he says, "That's beautiful."
She straightens again, looking through the window, watching Serena tuck herself against Nate's side as he puts a kiss to her forehead. "Yeah," she agrees. "It is."
"Are you going to stick around there for a while?"
"No, I'm going to leave," she says softly. "They should have some time to just...be a family. I can come back there and watch Lilah again."
"We're doing pretty well," Dan says. "I really don't mind staying with her."
"Oh. Okay. I guess...I'll head into work then. I left in the middle of a meeting."
"Really? You really want to go to work after this day?"
She's too tired to lie. "I don't know where else to go."
"Come back here. Hang out with me and Lilah. We're reading Something from Nothing for the third time, you don't want to miss this."
Blair laughs in spite of herself. "That sounds horrible."
"It's an very inspiring tale, actually," Dan corrects her teasingly. "And it teaches children good morals."
You'd be a good dad, she thinks, but she just says, "Hey, Humphrey?"
"Yeah, Waldorf?"
"Thank you for today," she says quietly.
There's a beat of silence, and then he says warmly, "Of course."
tbc.
Chapter| six
Rating | pg-13
Characters| Blair + Dan. Nate/Serena.
Summary | Give me back my future, Blair had thought. You take everything from me.
Notes | Canon applies for all episodes of Gossip Girl up to the s4 finale. This fic is loosely based on the movie Life As We Know It. I do not own these characters, etc, etc. Title is from a Taylor Swift song.
Manhattan, 2014.
Her phone won't stop ringing.
She silences it without thought the first time, returning her attention to her meaning and her argument with her co-worker, Benjy, who is always wrong about everything.
"We cannot put her on the cover," she says through gritted teeth, referring to the latest socialite-slash-actress-slash-golddigger who's managed to catch his attention. "It will do damage to our reputation."
"Scandal is good for the soul!" Benjy argues, gesticulating dramatically.
Her phone goes off again and again and again, until Benjy sits back in his chair, sulking.
"You may as well answer it, B," he says scathingly. "Sounds important."
She shoots everyone else at the table an apologetic look. "Why don't we do something brainstorming?" she offers, trying not to sound frustrated. "I'll be back in just a moment, I'm sorry about this."
Outside of the conference room, she looks at her phone for the first time, and is startled to see that all six missed calls are from Nate. Her heart thuds, heavy and dreadful, and then her phone starts to ring once again, Nate's name flashing on the screen.
"Nate?" she asks, picking up immediately.
"Can you come over?" he asks, not bothering with a hello, and the roughness of his voice makes her throat tight. "Can you - I need you to come over. Right now."
Her feet start to move at that, without her brain giving them direct permission. "What's wrong?"
"I - " His voice cracks and he has to start over, "I had to call an ambulance for Serena. I need you to come here and watch Lilah so I can get to the hospital."
She steps into the elevator, jabbing the buttons, and her voice comes out as a whisper when she asks, "What happened?"
Lilah starts to wail in the background and Nate lets out a ragged sigh. "I don't know," he whispers back, and then his voice drops even lower as he tries to comfort his daughter.
"I'll be there," she promises, gripping her phone tightly. "I'll get a cab, I'll be there as soon as I can."
Blair doesn't stop to think about anything when Nate swings open the door of his new home, not even the look on his face and the way it tugs at her heart. She reaches out to take Lilah from his arms, cuddling the sniffling toddler. "Go," she says softly.
He nods once, pressing a kiss to the side of Lilah's head before he moves past her and gets into the cab she'd told to wait at the curb.
"Dada..." Lilah sighs, watching him go.
Blair bounces Lilah gently in her arms. "Your daddy just went to see your mommy," she explains softly, stepping into the house and closing the door behind her. "They'll be back soon..."
Lilah blinks blue eyes at her and it's the first time Blair really, truly sees Serena in Lilah's face - it's so very clear that it's startling enough to take her breath away for a moment. "Mama?" Lilah asks curiously.
She takes a deep breath and nods. "Yes, your mommy and daddy will be back," she says firmly. "We just have to wait for them." She wracks her brain for an activity of some sort and comes up blank. "Let's have some juice, Lilah, okay?"
"Juice!" Lilah chirps happily, her pout slipping away, and Blair breathes a sigh of relief.
The fridge is packed full of food, take-out containers and leftovers, vegetables and two different kinds of milk, fruit juices and a small, carefully packaged cheesecake. Blair takes out the bottle of apple juice and nudges the refrigerator door closed with her hip.
"B," Lilah says, stretching out a hand over Blair's shoulder, tiny fingers pointing toward the sonogram picture stuck onto the fridge with colourful magnets, B A B Y.
Blair swallows. "Let's have our juice, sweetie..."
Lilah nods but she keeps pointing, announcing solemnly, "In Mommy."
She sits Lilah carefully on the counter, grabbing a sippy cup to pour the juice into. "Yes," she agrees quietly. "Your baby sister's inside of your mommy."
"Sister," Lilah agrees with another little nod.
Blair screws the lid of the sippy cup on tightly before she hands it to the toddler. "Here you go, here's your juice."
"Appa juice," Lilah says, yawning before she sticks the spout of the cup between her lips.
"Are you tired, sweetie?" Blair asks, turning her back on the fridge the sonogram stuck to the front of it. "Do you need a nap?"
Lilah shakes her head, mouth still around the spout of the cup, her little legs kicking out happily.
Blair glances over at the stove, checking the clock for the time. It's just shortly after 10 a.m. Nate started calling her around 9:20, which means that it hasn't been that long since Serena was taken to the hospital. She has so many questions, too many questions - but no one to ask.
She looks back at Lilah. It's still very early for her first nap, but she looks a little drowsy, and the panic, the paramedics rushing in, it must have disoriented her a bit. Blair knows that she can't call Nate, but if she can get Lilah to nap, she can call the hospital and see if she can get some information on what's happening.
"Let's go upstairs," she suggests, scooping Lilah back up. "Up to your bed..."
Lilah leans her head against Blair's shoulder. "Mama, B?"
Blair rubs her back softly. "Your mommy will be back later," she promises, not letting herself dwell on those words for too long. "I'll read you a story and you can have a little nap..."
It takes two stories to get Lilah to drift off. She falls into a light sleep that probably won't last much more than an hour, but Blair will take that for all it's worth. She draws the blinds and turns on Lilah's nightlight, grabbing the baby monitor before she slips out of the room, leaving the door cracked.
She moves through the hallway slowly, trying to come up with a plan. She needs to call someone, to do something - she can't just sit around waiting for Lilah to wake up again.
She peeks into the nursery, sighing at the sight of the decorations she'd helped Serena pick out. Nate and Serena were so excited about this baby - Blair doesn't think she'll ever forget the way Serena had been glowing, so brightly she'd almost had to look away, when they'd come to visit after their short honeymoon. I'm pregnant, Serena had laughed into Blair's shoulder, when the two of them had hugged.
She'd blinked in confusion, asked, before the wedding... And Serena had laughed again, shaking her head, shrugging slightly - she'd just known, even though she was only a few days pregnant at the time, and a doctor's appointment the next week had proved her right.
The nursery is decidedly girly, since they'd found out the gender of their baby this time, so that they could tell Lilah with certainty that she was going to have a little sister. There are pale purples and pastel pinks everywhere, a crib and dresser and changing table in off-white wood, a rocking chair draped with blankets. There is a mobile of little pink teddy bears, a framed photograph of Nate kissing Serena's belly on the wall, and a mural of stars on the ceiling. Everything was ready to bring a little girl home to - but the baby wasn't due for another couple weeks.
But it can't be anything to worry about; babies come early all the time. Blair closes the door of the nursery, holding tightly to the doorknob for a few seconds, and then moves further down the hallway, toward the stairs.
She pauses in front of the master bedroom, glancing into it. The door is half-open and it's dark, all the curtains pulled shut and no lights on. She nudges the door open with her toes, feeling oddly like she's infringing on very private space. She's been into this room a few times, once shortly after the house was remodelled, once when Serena still had morning sickness and spent half of every day for a week curled up in her bed, and on a couple other insignificant occasions. But still, there's a flutter of nervousness inside of her just before she flicks the light switch.
Blair actually lets out a little scream, and immediately brings a hand up to cover her mouth, lips clamped shut tightly. She stays still, completely frozen, waiting to hear the wails of a toddler, but they never come. The tension seeps out of her shoulders slowly - Lilah is still asleep, thank god, because her hands are shaking too much to pick up a little girl and comfort her right now - but her eyes remain wide and fixed on the ugly, terrible, way-too-large stain of blood on the pale blue bedsheets.
She fumbles for her Blackberry and scrolls through her contacts until she hits Nate's name, but she knows right away that she can't call Nate right now. She wants to, so badly, but she knows that she can't. She has to be his support, he can't be hers. He's dealing with much bigger things, and she needs to stay in this house and take care of his daughter and not bother him with panicked phone calls.
She scrolls up and hits the button to dial and her throat seems to swell as the line rings and rings and rings.
"Humphrey." Apparently that's how he answers his phone now, which she would honestly find borderline hilarious in any other circumstances, but right now all she can do is clutch her phone to her ear and breathe. There's a pause, during which he must check the caller ID, and then he says, "Blair? Hello?"
"Do people - " She blurts two words out and then stops herself, reining in nervous laughter. "Women don't still die in childbirth," she says firmly, refusing to phrase it as a question. "That doesn't happen now, not with modern medicine. It's impossible."
"Uh," he says, confused. "I don't...I'm sorry, what?"
There is too much blood on that bed; no one should bleed that much all of a sudden, especially not a woman in the third trimester of her pregnancy. "It's impossible," Blair repeats, but there's a little quaver in her voice all of a sudden.
It takes Dan a couple more seconds, but to his credit, he puts the pieces together. "What happened?" he asks quickly. "Is it Serena? What's going on?"
"I don't know," she says. That's the most horrible part, just standing there, frozen and wondering. "Nate called me to come take care of Lilah and...he said he had to call an ambulance for her. They're both at the hospital. I don't know what's going on."
"Shit," Dan breathes.
Blair lifts a hand to rub at her forehead. She desperately needs to get out of this room, out of this moment, but she can't make herself move. "I'm..."
"You're freaking out," Dan fills in quietly.
She doesn't need to reply to that. It's obvious that she is.
"Which is...totally understandable," he says firmly. "Look, I'll...I'll come over there."
She takes a sharp breath. "Why?"
There's rustling on his end of the phone, like he's gathering things together and putting on his coat. "So we can freak out together," he says easily.
It takes Dan just under half an hour to get to the house, and he's smart enough to knock rather than ring the bell so that Lilah doesn't wake up.
"Any news?" he asks when she opens the door to him.
She shakes her head, stepping aside so that he can cross the threshold. "No." She closes the door behind him.
"How long do you plan on waiting before you cave in and call?"
Blair hates that question, the way it makes it sound like he knows her so well, but the look on his face is ridiculously earnest, so she answers honestly, "Another three hours, I guess."
He nods, dropping his messenger bag by the coat-tree and toeing off his shoes. "You left work?" he guesses.
"Yes." She draws in a breath. "I actually have a job to leave."
He rolls his eyes half-heartedly. "I work from home," he says.
"You don't work. You pretend to."
"I wrote a novel, Blair," he reminds her.
"It was hardly literature," she says, turning on her heel and walking toward the living room.
"It sold pretty well," he says, trailing after her.
"I wouldn't know, I never read it." She purses her lips slightly, feeling the oddest temptation to smile as she takes a seat on the couch. "And don't brag, it's crass."
He sits next to her and ducks his head, like he's trying not to smile, too. "Okay," he says after a moment. "Sorry."
She nods.
They sit in silence for a few minutes, neither of them quite able to relax into the couch.
"Have you seen any good movies lately?" he tries after the quiet starts to feel a little awkward.
She lifts a hand and rubs lightly at the bridge of her nose. "I can't remember."
He nods shortly. "That's fair."
She feels nauseated suddenly and she closes her eyes, trying to breathe through it. She's not going to be sick. She only had a quarter of a bagel and a grapefruit for breakfast; she doesn't need to be sick.
Except she really, really does.
"Excuse me for a moment," she tells Dan in a controlled voice, standing up. "I'll be right back."
She throws up twice in the en suite master bathroom. Walking past that bed, with the blood stained on the sheets, was enough to trigger her gag reflex - she didn't even need to stick her finger down her throat. She trembles the whole time, sweat beading at her hairline.
Afterward, she sits on the bathmat, feeling drained. She doesn't even have the energy to get up and wash her hands and check her makeup; she doesn't have the energy for much of anything. Her hair feels limp against her cheeks and she swats at it angrily. She feels frightened and young - she feels like she needs her best friend.
She'll never be sure how long it takes Dan to come looking for her, but eventually he does. He knocks on the door several times before he cracks it open, peeking in, and then steps in to the join her.
"Hey," he says, hovering awkwardly by the sink.
Blair covers her face with her hands. "Go away."
He crouches down next to her, tugging her hands away gently. "Are you sick?"
"No," she whispers.
He shifts to sit next to her, touching her back lightly. "Are you making yourself sick?" His tone is even and his voice is soft, it sounds exactly like his previous question, if not for the fact that they're both entirely aware of the difference.
"Go away," she repeats, tilting her head back against the side of the bathtub, staring at the light fixture on the ceiling until spots appear in front of her eyes.
He doesn't move. Instead, he starts rubbing her back, which startles her so much that she physically jerks forward a little, but half a second later she finds herself leaning into his touch. "Serena usually helps you with this," he says quietly. It's not a question.
She nods slightly, hardly moving.
Dan's hand moves in soft circles over the middle of her back. "You'll be okay," he says. "She'll be okay."
"No," she says softly. "Don't make promises that you can't keep."
"You're her best friend," he reasons, "so I can assume that her doctor is the best of the best, and that you made sure of that. Things happen sometimes. Things happen with perfectly healthy people and perfectly healthy babies. But there are ways to fix those things. You can't know that this will end well but you can't know that this will end badly, either."
She swallows hard. "Is that the kind of thing you write in your so-called books?"
He huffs a laugh, hand still moving against her back. "Uh, no. Not...exactly."
"Good." She closes her eyes. "It's horrible."
She can actually feel his smile, the warmth of it, as much as she wants to pretend that she can't. "I should hire you to be my editor."
"I already have a job, Humphrey. Remember? A real one."
"Right, right." He leans his head lightly against hers, and she lets him.
They're quiet for a long time, but this time it doesn't get awkward. It's not entirely comfortable and maybe it's a little tense, but they both allow it to linger. She keeps her eyes closed, just listening to the steady pattern of Dan's inhales and exhales - it's soothing, in a way.
When she's ready, she curls up to his side, hiding her face against his shoulder. His hand stills against her back and she holds her breath for a moment before she whispers, "What if they lose the baby?"
He sighs. She thinks he might kiss her forehead, but she's not completely sure. "I don't know," he says quietly. "I don't know."
She feels tearful over that, tearful and guilty, because the majority of those tears are selfish. She would mourn for that baby, of course she would. She'd mourn for the little girl who never got to come home to her room. She would be sad for Serena and Nate, for everything this would do to them, as individuals, as a couple, as a family; of course she would be sad for them.
But she would be sad for herself too, for the gulf it would put in her relationship with Serena. Her best friend is busy living her perfect married life, but she's still Blair's best friend, and they still depend on each other. It would be a gap in empathy she'd never be able to cross, a private grief that she'd never understand.
Because Blair has never lost a baby that she wanted to keep, has never had that kind of choice stolen away from her.
Five hours after Blair first arrived at the Archibald home, Dan is on the floor doing puzzles with Lilah.
He's smiling at the toddler fondly, leaning down toward her. "I don't think that piece fits there," he says gently after Lilah's tried to jam it into the same spot several times. "Do you want to try it somewhere else..." He guides her hand to another place in the puzzle. "How about there, huh?"
Blair's sitting in the corner of the couch, jittery - the cup of black coffee cradled in her hands isn't helping much. "I don't know where you get the patience," she murmurs.
He glances up at her, still smiling slightly. "Jenny was good practice."
Lilah squeaks joyfully, both little hands lifting into the air in triumph when the piece fits into the puzzle.
And Dan grins at her like she's the only thing in the world. "Good job," he praises. "Do you want to try another one?"
Blair smiles vaguely and pulls her cell phone out from between the couch cushions, scrolling through her calls menu and pressing the button that re-dials.
It rings and rings and rings and rings, but there's never a response.
Lilah's giggling brightly when Blair hangs up, her tiny hand on Dan's face.
"You got my nose!" he exclaims, making her giggle even more. He pulls her hand back from his face and kisses her palm before he glances up at Blair. "Still no answer from Nate?"
"I'm not calling Nate," she confesses. "I'm calling...Chuck."
Dan frowns slightly, a hand on Lilah's back to steady her as she pushes herself up to her feet. "Why?"
She fidgets in the couch corner. "They would tell him what's happening. The hospital would, I mean. He's technically Serena's brother."
Dan stares at her for a moment, seemingly stunned, and just when she opens her mouth to ask what's wrong with him, he says, "So am I."
Dan stays home with Lilah, still fully engrossed in their puzzles, and Blair goes to the hospital by herself. She'd listened in on Dan's phone call, occasionally whacking his arm and talking him through what to say, and they'd managed to find out that Serena was just getting out of surgery and being moved to room 446.
It's easy to find the room once she gets there - Nate is standing right outside it, in the hallway, running a hand through his hair. He's got a phone pressed to his ear but as soon as he spots her he drops his hand.
"Hey," he says quietly. "I was just...calling you."
She walks right into him, her arms going around him a hug. "Is she okay?"
"They did an emergency c-section," he says by her ear. "It took - god, it took way too long. But she...she's okay. She's just waking up now, she's really drowsy, but they said that if things keep going well...she'll be okay."
Blair sighs, pressing her face into his shoulder for a moment. "Good," she says very firmly. "Good." She pulls back a bit to look at his face. "And your daughter?"
Nate's mouth twists into what's probably meant to be an optimistic half-smile but comes off as more of a grimace. "They're working on her."
She leans in to hug him again. "It'll be okay," she whispers. "She'll be okay."
"Yeah," he says tightly, and she knows he doesn't quite believe her. She can't blame him for that; she doesn't quite believe herself.
She doesn't let go of him for another moment. "Let's go in," she says softly after a beat. "Let's go in and sit with Serena."
Nate nods. "Who's with Li?"
"Dan is. She's fine," Blair promises. "They're doing puzzles."
"Yeah...she likes that." Nate blinks as if he's just realizing what he said. "You called Dan?"
"No." Blair blinks too, batting her eyelashes innocently. "You must have. He just showed up."
"No, I didn't..."
She rubs his arm gently. "It's been a long day. Don't worry about it."
He scowls at her, grumbles, "You called Dan..." But he doesn't press it further than that, turning to lead the way into the hospital room.
Serena is paler than Blair is prepared for, propped against pillows, her eyelids heavily. "Hi," Blair breathes, suddenly nervous, wringing her hands.
"B," Serena murmurs, forcing a tiny smile onto her mouth, her eyes still a little hazy. It reminds Blair of years ago, of a hospital stay after a car accident, of when she could still rescue Serena and fix things, of when she was right about it all, of when she had faith in her own judgment.
Serena looks to Nate then, smile fading away. "Is she..."
"They're going to tell us right away," he says soothingly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Right away, as soon as there's news."
"She'll be fine, S," Blair adds lightly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. She touches Serena's hand, squeezing her fingers gently. "Are you feeling alright? Is there anything I can do for you?"
Serena blinks like she doesn't understand the question. "I - " Her gaze goes to Nate again, seeking him out; he's the one she needs right now. "I need to see her," she says quietly.
"I know, honey," he says just as quietly. Just that, nothing more.
And Blair stays perched on the edge of Serena's uncomfortable hospital bed, holding her best friend's hand, waiting.
Serena is sound asleep, breathing deeply, when the doctor comes in to talk to Nate. He speaks in quiet tones, explaining complications with things that Blair doesn't understand enough to pay any real attention to. She keeps holding Serena's hand, her fingers closed carefully around her friend's, just in case.
"She's a little small and she needs some help breathing right now so we're giving her that. We'll watch her around the clock for the next few days, and you know that nothing's guaranteed, but things look good right now, they really do."
"So she's okay?" Nate breathes, all the hope in the world in his voice.
Blair cuts her gaze to the doctor, her heart in her throat, say yes, say yes, say yes.
The doctor smiles. "Yes," he says simply. "She's doing alright."
She releases Serena's hand slowly, lifting her hand to her chest instead, feeling her heart settle. She almost doesn't hear when Nate asks her to come with him to the NICU to see his daughter.
The baby is a tiny, pink thing that doesn't seem quite ready to be out in the world, wrinkled and squirming. It startles Blair a little - she's never seen anyone so very small. She can remember coming to the hospital after Lilah was born and holding her neice for the first time. Lilah had been a solid, warm weight, nine pounds of newborn baby swaddled in blankets and placed carefully in Blair's arms, bright blue eyes half open as she yawned. This baby looks like she'd weigh nothing at all, just a slip of a thing in the middle of her incubator, wires and tubes taped to her little body.
"Hey, baby," Nate whispers tenderly, slipping his hand into the glove in the side of the incubator. "Hey there, do you remember me..." He touches his daughter very gently, tracing the bridge of her tiny nose, picking up one of her little feet. "Your Mommy and I were so, so worried about you..."
"She's beautiful," Blair says softly, because it feels like the kind of thing she's supposed to say, not necessarily because it's true.
Nate huffs a half-laugh, half-sigh, like he might know she's lying, but he doesn't take his eyes off his daughter, touching her miniscule fingers.
She touches his shoulder. "What's her name?"
"Gabriella," he says quietly.
Blair nods. "That's pretty."
"It means something religious," he mumbles. "I can't remember what. Serena just really liked the sound of it." He glances over at her. "We'll probably end up calling her Gabby."
Blair looks back at that little baby, tiny but alive. "Or Ella," she suggests lightly.
The baby's fingers wrap around Nate's thumb then and she squirms, kicking a leg up. Nate breathes a laugh, beaming down at her. "Do you like that?" he wonders softly. "Should we call you Ella? You can thank your Auntie Blair for that..." He's quiet for another moment, still smiling, and then he says softly, "Thank you for today."
She doesn't take her eyes off his daughter. "Of course."
She calls Dan in the hospital hallway after Serena wakes up, standing outside the NICU, looking through the large window, watching Nate and Serena watch their daughter.
"How's Lilah?" she asks quietly once they've said their hellos.
"She's good," he says easily. "Asking about her mom and dad occasionally, but we're reading stories now. How are things going over there?"
"They're good, too." Blair tips her head back against the wall for a moment. "Serena's awake and recovering. The baby's in intensive care, but...they're optimistic," she says decisively. She likes the way that sounds.
"Good," Dan says on a relieved sigh. "You have a baby sister," he adds, his voice a little distant, talking to Lilah. "Does she have a name yet?" he asks Blair.
She nods, momentarily forgetting that he can't see her. "Ella."
There's a smile in his voice when he says, "That's beautiful."
She straightens again, looking through the window, watching Serena tuck herself against Nate's side as he puts a kiss to her forehead. "Yeah," she agrees. "It is."
"Are you going to stick around there for a while?"
"No, I'm going to leave," she says softly. "They should have some time to just...be a family. I can come back there and watch Lilah again."
"We're doing pretty well," Dan says. "I really don't mind staying with her."
"Oh. Okay. I guess...I'll head into work then. I left in the middle of a meeting."
"Really? You really want to go to work after this day?"
She's too tired to lie. "I don't know where else to go."
"Come back here. Hang out with me and Lilah. We're reading Something from Nothing for the third time, you don't want to miss this."
Blair laughs in spite of herself. "That sounds horrible."
"It's an very inspiring tale, actually," Dan corrects her teasingly. "And it teaches children good morals."
You'd be a good dad, she thinks, but she just says, "Hey, Humphrey?"
"Yeah, Waldorf?"
"Thank you for today," she says quietly.
There's a beat of silence, and then he says warmly, "Of course."
tbc.