147. collect a million years (one)
Title | collect a million years
Chapter| one
Rating | pg-13
Characters| Blair. Dan/Blair, Nate/Blair, Serena/Carter, Nate/Serena.
Summary | She shoplifted. Blair Waldorf shoplifted.
Notes | Canon is relevant. I don't watch this show anymore, but let's just say current canon applies. I'm stealing things from a movie but I'm going to keep that movie a secret (for now). Thank you to dysenchanted2 for the cheerleading this needed to sort itself out!
we were born to fuck each other, one way or another.
- iron & wine (evening on the ground / lilith's song)
2017.
She presses her palm to her chest, thumb and forefinger framing her collarbone, and focuses on her breathing.
It's a popular refrain on this floor drifting through the air, over the tiles, just breathe, remember your breathing. It's much easier said than done, though, and she's sure that all the other women in this wing would agree with her. Every time she inhales, she can feel her heart pounding, racing like it's trying to escape her.
The world blurs in front of her briefly and her hand flutters up, lifting from her chest to her face as she takes a shaky, deep breath.
It smells, in this hospital, in this wing in which life is brought into the world.
It smells like death.
"I thought we would be together forever."
A pause. Papers are shuffled. "You were very young."
"Love doesn't have age limits."
"So it wasn't growing up that changed your relationship?"
"No. It was - "
"It was…"
A haggard sigh. "It was my best friend. It's always - " A frown slips into her voice. "I don't see how any of this is relevant."
The sound of her phone ringing releases her somehow, allows her to breathe, snaps her back into reality - but still, she can't quite shake off the ominous sense of déjà vu, the way the smell of these halls seems wrong to her.
"Hello?" she says, holding her phone to her ear.
"How is she?"
It feels as though his voice is coming from very far away, and it takes her a moment to absorb each of her words.
"Blair?" he asks, his voice peaking with worry.
"Yes. I'm here. I'm not sure how she is - I'm still waiting."
"You must be worried," he offers softly, soothingly.
"It was just - " She swallows. "It was so odd, the way she reacted…"
There is silence for a moment, and then Nate says, "You sound like you're thinking too much."
She laughs unwillingly. "Have you met me?"
"I have," he says warmly. "And I know that you need to know she'll be okay."
"She will," Blair says softly. "There's no reason to think that she won't."
"Call me, okay? Once you see her. I want to say hi."
"Of course you do," she murmurs, startling herself. There's a bitter undertone to those words that she can't quite make sense of.
Nate must hear it, too, because he's silent for a few seconds. "It's going to be okay," he tells her gently. "She's going to be fine, you're going to be fine, and I'll be there as soon as I can be. I'm reorganizing all my meetings."
She bows her head slightly and breathes deep. She regrets it right away; the smell of the hospital invades her senses in a way that stings. "I miss you," she whispers.
"I miss you, too, sweetheart," he says easily. There are voices in the background on his end, quick and demanding, though she can't quite make out the works. "I have to go," he says apologetically. "Call me, okay? When you see her."
"I will," she promises.
He hangs up and she listens to the dial tone in her ear for a moment.
"I never loved him."
"You remember the terms of this, don't you? The process? It's paradoxical."
"Forgetting necessitates remembering." Her voice is wooden, automatic.
"Spoken like an excellent student."
She exhales sharply, annoyed. Her next words tear out of her, up from her heart and out of her throat, "I never, ever meant to love him."
The nurse who comes to fetch her is wearing pink scrubs and an easy smile.
"Miss Waldorf?"
Blair glances up hopefully. Her eyes feel too wide, her throat too tight.
The nurse's smile widens. "She's going to be just fine," she says gently, practiced at delivering all kinds of news. "She's resting now but I know you've been anxious to see her, so go on in for just a few minutes."
Blair nods stiffly. "Thank you."
The nurse - her name tag identifies her as Claire - turns to go and then hesitates. "She really is alright," she says seriously. "Your friend. And you should know - I'm sure you do know - that what happened was entirely an accident and in no way anyone's fault."
"Yes." She swallows. "Yes, I know. Thank you, Claire."
Claire beams briefly. "Of course," she says, and then she moves down the hall, onto another patient.
She laughs genuinely. "He was a mistake. A regret. I don't dwell on that particular boy - "
"But you do dwell on the others."
Her mirth fades. "The others," she repeats.
"Knock knock," she says softly, rather than actually tapping on the half-open hospital door.
"Hey," Serena murmurs. She waves a hand toward herself. "It looks worse than it is, I promise."
Blair tries for a smile but doesn't quite make it, her jaw clenching tightly. It looks about as bad as it is, Serena pale in a hospital bed, wearing an ugly pale green hospital gown, an angry red slash of a cut on one of her cheeks.
"Oh, S," she murmurs. She wants to hug her friend but she also feels strangely like she's interrupting, hovering there in the doorway.
Carter Baizen is sitting next to Serena's bed, on one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs, holding her hand, their fingers tangled together. He looks the part of the attentive husband, eyes pinned on Serena's face, even though they're not married - yet.
"You were worried," Serena concludes, reaching her free hand out toward Blair.
"No," she says quickly, moving further into the room and attempting another smile. "Of course not."
"You're lying," Serena says, her voice still soft and a little strained.
"No," Blair insists, perching on the side of the bed. "I wasn't worried about you at all."
There's a brief glimmer of amusement in Serena's eyes. "No?"
"Not about you," Blair says firmly. She touches a hand gently to the subtle swell of Serena's belly. "Just about my nephew."
Serena smiles faintly, placing her hand next to Blair's. "He's okay," she murmurs. "We're both okay," she says, turning toward Carter.
He brushes his knuckles against her cheek, leaning in to kiss her forehead, and Serena sighs, closing her eyes for a beat.
Blair is just about to offer to leave them for the night when Serena opens her eyes again, looking back at Carter. "Will you give us a minute?" she asks quietly.
He nods, glancing at Blair briefly. "Of course, beautiful," he says, pressing another quick kiss to her forehead before he gets up.
Serena smiles softly at his back as he goes, waiting until the door of her room is closed before she gives Blair her attention again. "Are you okay?" she wonders.
Blair stares at her. "Me? I'm not the one who fell down a staircase."
Serena rolls her eyes. "It was like five steps, B."
"You're pregnant."
She looks down at her abdomen, smoothing a hand over the sheets there. "He's fine," she says softly. "They did an ultrasound and we got to see him…" She grins briefly. "He's got tiny little fingers and he's just…he's perfect." She looks back at Blair. "He's fine, and so am I."
"Luckily," Blair says with emphasis, giving the cut on Serena's cheek a pointed look.
The blonde smiles slightly. "World's worst paper cut, huh?"
"It isn't funny, Serena, you could have - "
"But I didn't," she cuts in firmly. "I don't want to think about the what-ifs. My baby's fine and I'm fine…and you're fine?"
"Of course I'm fine." Blair nods. "I've just been worried about you." She presses her lips together. "It was my idea to go in there - "
"B," Serena murmurs. "Come on. How could you have known? Used bookstores don't normally cause injuries. It was a complete fluke."
"It was a stupid idea."
"It wasn't. I don't want you to think of it like that. I fell; I could've fallen anywhere. It could have been Bendel's."
"Most places don't have staircases like that - "
"I should have been more careful, maybe," Serena allows. "But it's not your fault and it's not really my fault. I fell. That's it. We don't have to dwell on it because I'm fine." She covers Blair's hand with her own. "We are fine."
Blair smiles because she knows it's what Serena wants from her right now, and she's not about to deny the tired, injured, pregnant woman in a hospital bed what she wants. "That book…"
Serena shakes her head slightly. "I overreacted. I just wanted to see it."
"Do you know what it's about?"
Serena shakes her head again, closing her eyes this time. "No idea."
"Because it seemed like you did," Blair can't help but press. "The way you grabbed for it like that the second I pulled it off the shelf…"
"I overreacted," Serena repeats. "You know me…" She blinks her eyes open and rubs gently at her belly. "All drama, all the time."
Blair smiles again and lets the subject drop. She leans down and presses a firm kiss to Serena's forehead. "I'm so happy you're okay, S."
Serena smiles, too, blinking heavily. "Thank you for taking care of me today," she says.
"Of course. Always."
Serena sighs. "Can you get Carter? On your way out."
"Yes, of course. I'll send him back in." She hesitates. "He's…smitten with you, S."
"That was acknowledgement," Serena points out teasingly. "Not approval."
Blair laughs as she gets to her feet. "Give me another couple years to get to that stage."
"And what about Charles Bass?"
"Chuck. We call him Chuck."
"Alright. What about Chuck?"
"He broke my heart." She is impatient. "He broke me entirely."
"And yet - "
Her apartment is cold (and lonely, too, but she prefers not to think of it that way).
Blair takes off her boots, her gloves, her coat, and her scarf. She sorts through the mail idly and finds nothing of interest. In the bedroom, she lights the electric fireplace and sheds the rest of the clothing, slipping into a pair of pyjamas.
She gets into bed before she phones Nate again, going through the usual hassle of talking to assistant after assistant before she finally gets the man she called for.
"Hey," he says distractedly when someone finally gives him the phone.
She pouts and is glad that he can't see her. "I demand a direct line."
He laughs, seeming to focus on her. "You have one, sweetheart. This week is just a little…hectic. Are you still at the hospital?"
"No, I just got home. Serena was tired; I let her sleep. I'll phone you when I go over to visit tomorrow."
"She's okay, though?" he double-checks.
"Yes. The baby, too." She flicks on the television and mutes it. "When are you coming home?"
"Saturday." There are exclamations in the background as soon as he says it, and he sighs, amends, "Tuesday."
"Nate…"
"I'm so sorry, I really am. But I just can't get away."
"We have that dinner Tuesday night," she sighs. "I'll hardly have a moment alone with you."
"I'll be all yours on Wednesday," he says. "I promise."
She sighs again, but she forces a smile into her voice when she says, "Okay. I'll hold you to that."
There's warmth in his voice, enough to make her spine tingle with it, when he says, "Oh, I know you will."
"When I was five years old, I knew exactly what I wanted. I've never been so sure of anything - I really haven't. And you just…you make the assumption that as you grow up, you'll make better decisions, bigger decisions. You'll understand the world and you'll understand yourself. But I think it worked in reverse for me. I knew then. I really knew. And now…now I don't know anything. Now I feel…"
"How do you feel?"
There is a long, long pause on the disc. "I'm so tired of feeling."
It is past midnight when Blair wanders out into the living room, looking for her purse and the small package of macaroons she distinctly remembers hiding away in it.
The macaroons are there, but when she reaches for them, she encounters something else. It isn't a familiar shape, not her wallet or the case for her sunglasses, but something solid and rectangular.
It's a book, and she realizes the moment that she pulls it out that she committed a crime today - she shoplifted. Blair Waldorf shoplifted.
In all the confusion and panic after Serena's fall in the bookstore, she didn't put the book back on the shelf or even drop it to the ground. Somehow, during that crisis, she ended up stuffing it into her purse instead and taking it with her when she hurried out of the store after the paramedics. It hadn't even crossed her mind.
She should return it, probably. Or she could keep it. She could read it.
She handles it carefully, turning it over in her hands.
The title is Inside.
tbc.
Chapter| one
Rating | pg-13
Characters| Blair. Dan/Blair, Nate/Blair, Serena/Carter, Nate/Serena.
Summary | She shoplifted. Blair Waldorf shoplifted.
Notes | Canon is relevant. I don't watch this show anymore, but let's just say current canon applies. I'm stealing things from a movie but I'm going to keep that movie a secret (for now). Thank you to dysenchanted2 for the cheerleading this needed to sort itself out!
we were born to fuck each other, one way or another.
- iron & wine (evening on the ground / lilith's song)
2017.
She presses her palm to her chest, thumb and forefinger framing her collarbone, and focuses on her breathing.
It's a popular refrain on this floor drifting through the air, over the tiles, just breathe, remember your breathing. It's much easier said than done, though, and she's sure that all the other women in this wing would agree with her. Every time she inhales, she can feel her heart pounding, racing like it's trying to escape her.
The world blurs in front of her briefly and her hand flutters up, lifting from her chest to her face as she takes a shaky, deep breath.
It smells, in this hospital, in this wing in which life is brought into the world.
It smells like death.
"I thought we would be together forever."
A pause. Papers are shuffled. "You were very young."
"Love doesn't have age limits."
"So it wasn't growing up that changed your relationship?"
"No. It was - "
"It was…"
A haggard sigh. "It was my best friend. It's always - " A frown slips into her voice. "I don't see how any of this is relevant."
The sound of her phone ringing releases her somehow, allows her to breathe, snaps her back into reality - but still, she can't quite shake off the ominous sense of déjà vu, the way the smell of these halls seems wrong to her.
"Hello?" she says, holding her phone to her ear.
"How is she?"
It feels as though his voice is coming from very far away, and it takes her a moment to absorb each of her words.
"Blair?" he asks, his voice peaking with worry.
"Yes. I'm here. I'm not sure how she is - I'm still waiting."
"You must be worried," he offers softly, soothingly.
"It was just - " She swallows. "It was so odd, the way she reacted…"
There is silence for a moment, and then Nate says, "You sound like you're thinking too much."
She laughs unwillingly. "Have you met me?"
"I have," he says warmly. "And I know that you need to know she'll be okay."
"She will," Blair says softly. "There's no reason to think that she won't."
"Call me, okay? Once you see her. I want to say hi."
"Of course you do," she murmurs, startling herself. There's a bitter undertone to those words that she can't quite make sense of.
Nate must hear it, too, because he's silent for a few seconds. "It's going to be okay," he tells her gently. "She's going to be fine, you're going to be fine, and I'll be there as soon as I can be. I'm reorganizing all my meetings."
She bows her head slightly and breathes deep. She regrets it right away; the smell of the hospital invades her senses in a way that stings. "I miss you," she whispers.
"I miss you, too, sweetheart," he says easily. There are voices in the background on his end, quick and demanding, though she can't quite make out the works. "I have to go," he says apologetically. "Call me, okay? When you see her."
"I will," she promises.
He hangs up and she listens to the dial tone in her ear for a moment.
"I never loved him."
"You remember the terms of this, don't you? The process? It's paradoxical."
"Forgetting necessitates remembering." Her voice is wooden, automatic.
"Spoken like an excellent student."
She exhales sharply, annoyed. Her next words tear out of her, up from her heart and out of her throat, "I never, ever meant to love him."
The nurse who comes to fetch her is wearing pink scrubs and an easy smile.
"Miss Waldorf?"
Blair glances up hopefully. Her eyes feel too wide, her throat too tight.
The nurse's smile widens. "She's going to be just fine," she says gently, practiced at delivering all kinds of news. "She's resting now but I know you've been anxious to see her, so go on in for just a few minutes."
Blair nods stiffly. "Thank you."
The nurse - her name tag identifies her as Claire - turns to go and then hesitates. "She really is alright," she says seriously. "Your friend. And you should know - I'm sure you do know - that what happened was entirely an accident and in no way anyone's fault."
"Yes." She swallows. "Yes, I know. Thank you, Claire."
Claire beams briefly. "Of course," she says, and then she moves down the hall, onto another patient.
She laughs genuinely. "He was a mistake. A regret. I don't dwell on that particular boy - "
"But you do dwell on the others."
Her mirth fades. "The others," she repeats.
"Knock knock," she says softly, rather than actually tapping on the half-open hospital door.
"Hey," Serena murmurs. She waves a hand toward herself. "It looks worse than it is, I promise."
Blair tries for a smile but doesn't quite make it, her jaw clenching tightly. It looks about as bad as it is, Serena pale in a hospital bed, wearing an ugly pale green hospital gown, an angry red slash of a cut on one of her cheeks.
"Oh, S," she murmurs. She wants to hug her friend but she also feels strangely like she's interrupting, hovering there in the doorway.
Carter Baizen is sitting next to Serena's bed, on one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs, holding her hand, their fingers tangled together. He looks the part of the attentive husband, eyes pinned on Serena's face, even though they're not married - yet.
"You were worried," Serena concludes, reaching her free hand out toward Blair.
"No," she says quickly, moving further into the room and attempting another smile. "Of course not."
"You're lying," Serena says, her voice still soft and a little strained.
"No," Blair insists, perching on the side of the bed. "I wasn't worried about you at all."
There's a brief glimmer of amusement in Serena's eyes. "No?"
"Not about you," Blair says firmly. She touches a hand gently to the subtle swell of Serena's belly. "Just about my nephew."
Serena smiles faintly, placing her hand next to Blair's. "He's okay," she murmurs. "We're both okay," she says, turning toward Carter.
He brushes his knuckles against her cheek, leaning in to kiss her forehead, and Serena sighs, closing her eyes for a beat.
Blair is just about to offer to leave them for the night when Serena opens her eyes again, looking back at Carter. "Will you give us a minute?" she asks quietly.
He nods, glancing at Blair briefly. "Of course, beautiful," he says, pressing another quick kiss to her forehead before he gets up.
Serena smiles softly at his back as he goes, waiting until the door of her room is closed before she gives Blair her attention again. "Are you okay?" she wonders.
Blair stares at her. "Me? I'm not the one who fell down a staircase."
Serena rolls her eyes. "It was like five steps, B."
"You're pregnant."
She looks down at her abdomen, smoothing a hand over the sheets there. "He's fine," she says softly. "They did an ultrasound and we got to see him…" She grins briefly. "He's got tiny little fingers and he's just…he's perfect." She looks back at Blair. "He's fine, and so am I."
"Luckily," Blair says with emphasis, giving the cut on Serena's cheek a pointed look.
The blonde smiles slightly. "World's worst paper cut, huh?"
"It isn't funny, Serena, you could have - "
"But I didn't," she cuts in firmly. "I don't want to think about the what-ifs. My baby's fine and I'm fine…and you're fine?"
"Of course I'm fine." Blair nods. "I've just been worried about you." She presses her lips together. "It was my idea to go in there - "
"B," Serena murmurs. "Come on. How could you have known? Used bookstores don't normally cause injuries. It was a complete fluke."
"It was a stupid idea."
"It wasn't. I don't want you to think of it like that. I fell; I could've fallen anywhere. It could have been Bendel's."
"Most places don't have staircases like that - "
"I should have been more careful, maybe," Serena allows. "But it's not your fault and it's not really my fault. I fell. That's it. We don't have to dwell on it because I'm fine." She covers Blair's hand with her own. "We are fine."
Blair smiles because she knows it's what Serena wants from her right now, and she's not about to deny the tired, injured, pregnant woman in a hospital bed what she wants. "That book…"
Serena shakes her head slightly. "I overreacted. I just wanted to see it."
"Do you know what it's about?"
Serena shakes her head again, closing her eyes this time. "No idea."
"Because it seemed like you did," Blair can't help but press. "The way you grabbed for it like that the second I pulled it off the shelf…"
"I overreacted," Serena repeats. "You know me…" She blinks her eyes open and rubs gently at her belly. "All drama, all the time."
Blair smiles again and lets the subject drop. She leans down and presses a firm kiss to Serena's forehead. "I'm so happy you're okay, S."
Serena smiles, too, blinking heavily. "Thank you for taking care of me today," she says.
"Of course. Always."
Serena sighs. "Can you get Carter? On your way out."
"Yes, of course. I'll send him back in." She hesitates. "He's…smitten with you, S."
"That was acknowledgement," Serena points out teasingly. "Not approval."
Blair laughs as she gets to her feet. "Give me another couple years to get to that stage."
"And what about Charles Bass?"
"Chuck. We call him Chuck."
"Alright. What about Chuck?"
"He broke my heart." She is impatient. "He broke me entirely."
"And yet - "
Her apartment is cold (and lonely, too, but she prefers not to think of it that way).
Blair takes off her boots, her gloves, her coat, and her scarf. She sorts through the mail idly and finds nothing of interest. In the bedroom, she lights the electric fireplace and sheds the rest of the clothing, slipping into a pair of pyjamas.
She gets into bed before she phones Nate again, going through the usual hassle of talking to assistant after assistant before she finally gets the man she called for.
"Hey," he says distractedly when someone finally gives him the phone.
She pouts and is glad that he can't see her. "I demand a direct line."
He laughs, seeming to focus on her. "You have one, sweetheart. This week is just a little…hectic. Are you still at the hospital?"
"No, I just got home. Serena was tired; I let her sleep. I'll phone you when I go over to visit tomorrow."
"She's okay, though?" he double-checks.
"Yes. The baby, too." She flicks on the television and mutes it. "When are you coming home?"
"Saturday." There are exclamations in the background as soon as he says it, and he sighs, amends, "Tuesday."
"Nate…"
"I'm so sorry, I really am. But I just can't get away."
"We have that dinner Tuesday night," she sighs. "I'll hardly have a moment alone with you."
"I'll be all yours on Wednesday," he says. "I promise."
She sighs again, but she forces a smile into her voice when she says, "Okay. I'll hold you to that."
There's warmth in his voice, enough to make her spine tingle with it, when he says, "Oh, I know you will."
"When I was five years old, I knew exactly what I wanted. I've never been so sure of anything - I really haven't. And you just…you make the assumption that as you grow up, you'll make better decisions, bigger decisions. You'll understand the world and you'll understand yourself. But I think it worked in reverse for me. I knew then. I really knew. And now…now I don't know anything. Now I feel…"
"How do you feel?"
There is a long, long pause on the disc. "I'm so tired of feeling."
It is past midnight when Blair wanders out into the living room, looking for her purse and the small package of macaroons she distinctly remembers hiding away in it.
The macaroons are there, but when she reaches for them, she encounters something else. It isn't a familiar shape, not her wallet or the case for her sunglasses, but something solid and rectangular.
It's a book, and she realizes the moment that she pulls it out that she committed a crime today - she shoplifted. Blair Waldorf shoplifted.
In all the confusion and panic after Serena's fall in the bookstore, she didn't put the book back on the shelf or even drop it to the ground. Somehow, during that crisis, she ended up stuffing it into her purse instead and taking it with her when she hurried out of the store after the paramedics. It hadn't even crossed her mind.
She should return it, probably. Or she could keep it. She could read it.
She handles it carefully, turning it over in her hands.
The title is Inside.
tbc.