Fic: We Move Lightly (Part I)
Title: We Move LightlyPairing: Blair/Dan
Rating: T
Summary: Based off of some spoilers I've read. This takes place a few weeks after the midseason finale.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl or any of its characters.
Thanks to my wonderful beta Spiros.
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Part I
He's waiting for her when she steps out of the psychologist's office, but she's too exhausted to shoo him away. She walks right past him, fully expecting him to follow behind.
She's right, of course. He's one step behind her.
"Coffee?" he offers, holding up a paper cup.
She turns her head to look back at him. "Is it-" She bites her tongue before she can say the word decaf-her persistent pregnancy craving-and fumbles through her momentary brain lapse. "-Starbucks?" She finishes smoothly, ignoring the look on his face that shows he knows her slip-up.
Her eyes pool with tears, and before he can notice, she fakes a coughing fit.
Dan stops walking, prompting her to as well. "Damn. No, it isn't." He sighs. "Sorry."
He looks so frustrated at himself, she feels sorry for him. She gives a barely-there smile. "Good. I don't like their coffee anyway. Too plebeian."
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Dan knows this:
1) Chuck woke up from his coma, and Blair woke up from ChuckandBlair.
2) There is no ring on Blair's finger, and no Louis in New York.
3) He isn't the only one anymore who's lost a baby.
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"How can I miss something I never had?"
It's just after three in the morning, but Dan's been up for a while. He sets his alarm for 2:30 every night, knowing Blair will call thirty minutes later. It's been an odd ritual that started three weeks after the accident: she calls, he listens. They are never lengthy conversations; just long enough for her to admit a feeling that breaks Dan's heart for her a little more.
Dan sighs and softly says, "It was more than a thing, Blair."
She sniffles into the phone at the truth of his reply. And then a little more and a little more, until she's sobbing soundlessly into the receiver and until the phone zaps dead from the tears that have leaked into it.
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When she walks out of her therapy session the next week, Dan looks like he's been hit by a truck. She can't help but feel a little responsible for it.
She stops in front of him instead of walking past.
"Sorry for waking you up every night."
"You don't."
Which is actually not a total lie, since he wakes himself up before she can do it herself.
"You don't have to answer it."
"I want to." And he hands her the paper coffee cup as he takes a sip of his own.
She tastes the coffee, wanting to savor its warmth and taste, while also hiding her face. Hot apple cider surprises her tongue, and she feels as if a bucket of cold water has been thrown on her. It's the first thing in weeks that is unfamiliar and out of her routine.
Everyday, she wakes without an alarm clock, forces food down her throat, walks to the therapists office, walks out with Dan, takes his cup of coffee, and aimlessly paces the city for the rest of the day. They barely speak until her middle-of-the-night phone calls, and even then their conversations are brief. She hasn't realized until now-until he changed her order from coffee to cider-that she was...bored. And so very confused at what she was going to do next and how to get there.
"I need to get away. Do you know of a place?"
He nods.
"Take me there."
It's the second time she's said this. And the first time he does.
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They don't have any clothes, but they both have their wallets, so they aren't worried. She doesn't utter a word when he leads them to Penn Station and onto a train. She never asks where they are going, although by hour eight she is more than curious.
They've been given their own quarters, consisting of bunk beds and a small bathroom. They find it too claustrophobic to stay in all day, so they sit down at a table across from one another. He writes while she looks out the window. She escapes from the sorrows of her mind and just watches the world go by. Embarrassingly, she's traveled to countless other countries, but rarely inside her own. Her gaze is glued to the unfamiliar cities and farms and towns they pass by, only ripping her eyes away from the window to eat the food that he's placed in front of her.
Once Dan notices her bloodshot eyes fighting to flutter close, he finally coerces her to go to bed. She silently strips down to her bra and underwear and climbs onto the lower bunk. Once she's settled, he whispers goodnight and climbs the ladder to the top bed, welcoming sleep.
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Her midnight phone call turns into a midnight waking of another kind. Dan rouses when he feels the mattress sink from her weight and he automatically shifts closer to the wall. Wordlessly, she climbs under the covers with him and melts into his warmth.
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They sleep in much later than planned-until the conductor calls the last stop. They are too busy scrambling to pack their things and change to feel embarrassed but the way they woke up.
Though neither of them can forget the way their legs and arms and heads and skin seemed to fit so perfectly against each other.
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The first thing Blair sees once she steps out of the train is palm trees, and just the sight makes her sigh in relief. A foreign sense of calm washes over her and for the first time in her life, she doesn't care about not having a plan. She just wants whatever she's feeling to last more than a short moment.
Although she can't help but wrinkle her nose at the words Welcome to Florida.
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The air smells salty and sunny and fresh and clean and Blair immediately knows they're on the coast near the beach. Unsurprisingly, Dan seems to have a small plan worked out, as he gives the cab driver an address from memory.
He smiles warmly at her. "We're almost there."
Her lips quirk upwards. "After twenty-four hours on a train, I'm not sure I believe you."
Dan laughs at that. "But do you trust me?"
She shrugs, and then after a beat: "Would I be here if I didn't?"
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Dan nudges Blair awake as the cab stops in front of a sweet cottage. She'd fallen asleep on his shoulder.
After paying the driver, Dan reaches for her hand and leads her to the front door. An old man opens it after a minute.
He looks oddly familiar to Blair, and it isn't until Dan speaks does it all make sense.
"Hey Grandpa."
An older version of Dan Humphrey is standing before her.
"Daniel, my boy! It's been too long," he says, embracing his grandson. "I was so excited when you called I could barely stay standing."
He turns and notices Blair. "And who may I ask is this breathtaking young woman?"
She can't help but smile at the adorable man. "Blair Waldorf. It's so nice to meet you." She reaches out her hand to shake his, but he kisses it instead.
"Lovely to meet you dear. Now come in before we all die of a heat stroke."
Once inside, Blair catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror and holds back a gasp. "Would you mind if I used your bathroom?"
"Not at all sweetheart! Straight down the hall and to your left."
She returns five minutes later looking a bit more refreshed than before. She accepts the glass of lemonade his Grandpa offers, and greedily takes a sip. Dan smiles as he watches her.
The phone rings and the old man sighs. "I'll bet my last buck that's Hal calling to complain that I'm late to our chess game. He should be used to folks moving slow in this joint."
As he stands up to get the phone, his sentence clicks in Blair's mind. Looking out the window, she understands for the first time where they really are. Rows of almost identical homes line the street, and her eyes go to the older couple and groups that are walking along the sidewalk. Dan hasn't just taken her to Florida.
He has taken her away from all babies, children, and young mothers. He's taken her to a retirement community.
She can't stop the tears that flow down her cheeks, and she's too far gone at this point to care anymore. The way she looks at him says thank you more than the actual words can.
He simply squeezes her hand and winks. You're welcome.
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{Part II}