Disclaimer: I recognise I own neither Gossip Girl or its characters.

A/N: This is ultimately a Blair/Chuck story, though from the first chapter it would not seem that way as it a fic also heavily dependant on Serena and Nate, and their points of view are key factors...

I am a mess.

This realization does not simply apply to right now, as tears stream silently down my crumpled face and my hands shake like leaves in the wind, but it extends as a fact of my whole life. From my early teens to the twenty eight year old woman I stand as now. I am, and have always been, a mess.

I burden all those around me. I am made up of mistakes and regrets - even my mother falling pregnant with me was a mistake, an accident. I suppose I began as I intended to go on.

I am flighty and fickle. I am selfish. I am weak.

I am weak, and this is the root of all my problems, my imperfections, and my mistakes.

And now my weakness has destroyed my son's life. My son - the only thing I have ever done right.

Everyone knows that the weak seek the stronger to protect him or her: like the fish that swim beneath the belly of the shark. I am one of those small, insignificant fish and my shark came to me in my most vulnerable moment when I had absolutely no one else in the whole world. And, in my defense, the world is a scary place.

The beginning of this story is hard to place. I was twenty-three and enjoying what life had to offer. The fact that I was in Vegas probably hints to what exactly life had to offer at the time.

I have always struggled with drugs, right from fifteen when I snorted my first line. The party life has always had grip on me - I love to drink till I forget my own name; I love to dance on tables while everyone watches, captivated; I love to feel untouchable and invincible.

After my reckless teenage years, I managed to settle myself down for a while. At first I held on to sobriety because of a beautiful boy I'd fallen for. He was like no one I'd ever met and he was certainly nothing like me - he was good. When he looked at me I felt like I was reborn. Of course, my past caught up to me and he saw me - the real me. There was no longer love in his eyes - only judgment, pity and disgust.

Sometimes I wonder about him. I wonder what Dan Humphrey is doing. Is he happy? Is he in love, is he married? Does he ever think of me?

I don't dwell too long. Nostalgia doesn't do anyone any good.

I held on to my sobriety because I saw that people's respect and love could hollow the desire for the euphoric feeling that comes with getting utterly smashed. My mother and I were able to have a stable relationship. My best friend no longer resented me for my rogue behavior. My brother no longer had to be ashamed of me. No one ever had to sigh and mutter, 'Serena's at it again. Surprise, surprise.' I learned to love the strangest of people when I gained a real family; I received brotherly affection and support, a sturdy father figure from people I'd never expect.

I suppose not only was it the longing to be good that drove me from that girl I once was, but also the memory of a thousand mornings waking up to a sensation of vertigo; no idea where I was or where the nearest toilet was situated so I could throw up.

I never again wanted to be that monster. I vowed I would never stoop so low again.

Like I said: I am weak.

I graduated high school, aware that when I was sixteen no one believed I'd ever come this far. My mother's face was aglow with pride and that set off the same feeling within me - and it was amazing. My blood coursed through my veins, burning with joy and my heart skipped a beat when my hand closed tightly around that diploma. Posing for photos in gowns with my friends was one of the best moments in my life.

College passed in a blur. I kept my promises and focused solely on my work. Boyfriends came and went but nothing stuck. I partied, of course, but never lost control of myself. When I returned home, I felt like a real adult; responsible and strong.

I felt as though I stood on top of the world, facing East as the sun rose above the horizon; dawn, a new day: the beginning of my life.

And that, I think, was when it all went wrong.

My brother, who'd been diagnosed with clinical depression years before, to which there was no cure, committed suicide. My mother, overcome by grief, refused to eat, sleep or receive visitors. Her divorce from Bart Bass followed soon after and my family completely disintegrated to nothingness; any trace of my indestructible happiness going with it.

Nothing anchored me to Manhattan anymore; my best friend, Blair Waldorf was pursuing a career in Paris; Lily, a shell of my mother, could no longer stand the city or it's society she had once committed herself to and fled to Florida. I too made my escape, a friend from college was vacationing in Las Vegas and that's where I dissolved back into the selfish teenage girl I'd once been.

It was also where I met Thomas.

I was flattered by Thomas "Tommy" Black's interest in me, but to be honest, not all that surprised. Men often found my drunken childishness endearing, they liked my apparent fearlessness in front of a crowd, my charm, my legs... my willingness. It had always been such. I got my fake ID when I was fifteen, I have always been ahead of my years - in looks at least, and men have watched me with desire in their eyes ever since then. Sometimes, I pitied men and sometimes I envied them. Most the time I was disgusted by them. They were so simple, so obvious and simple with their desires, so easy to please.

However, Thomas seemed enamored with me - everyone said so. After the first night we met in his club - one of many, he began to court me. He sent me countless gifts, asked me out on dates and invited my friends and I to the most sort-after parties.

My money had run out due to too much partying and shopping. My friend's cash fund had also run dry and they decided it way time they left.

As my friends prepared to leave, I was reluctant to go. I adored Vegas, and I adored Thomas. No, I did not adore Thomas himself. I adored the way he looked at me and the way he took care of me.

I desperately wanted to be taken care of.

I stayed and Thomas was overjoyed. He told me he had been a phone call away from begging me to stay when he heard it was our date of departure. He set me up in his hotel and had me waited upon - I felt nothing short of a princess. All my expenses were taken care of.

I thought he did so because I was beautiful, charming and seemingly carefree. I believed he had fallen in love with the visage I had created of the old me to cover the crippling grief I felt deep down. I believed he would only keep me around; take care of me, as I so desperately needed to be, if I maintained the visage.

When I overdosed and woke up in a private hospital room, I thought it was all over.

There was no way Thomas would continue to care for me now, and I knew I could not continue on with this life. I knew I needed help, but I had no one or nowhere to go back to. I was too ashamed to seek out Lily or Blair. I was completely alone.

And then Thomas showed up, with a bouquet of "Get Well" flowers, like I had a stomach bug. His smile was somber yet warm.

'Serena. You put on a good show,' he'd said, fingers stroking tenderly along the back of my hand, 'but I can see you suffering behind the mask you wear. I wish you would let your guard down and let me see the real you.'

'You mean all my glorious ugliness? You won't like what you see.'

'You don't know that. But I know I love you, Serena. And we're going to get you help, whatever it takes. I will take care of you, I swear.'

I have never felt such acceptance in my entire life. So I surrendered myself to him, the weak little fish cowering in the protective shadow of the shark.

I tried to make myself love him, I truly did. But love is not something you can force. It was not that I didn't like him - quite the opposite. He was beautiful - tall and strong jawed. He made me laugh. He made me feel comfortable. But I could not fall in love with him. I doubted I felt for him a tenth of what he felt for me. But I went along with the marriage, swept up in it all.

The one thing I could return to him was acceptance. I feigned ignorance to his shady deals, turned a blind eye to any illegal documents I stumbled upon. I pretended I didn't hear the whispers about him or the reputation built up. I decided not to question anything suspicious. I did not question the mysterious deaths of business partners or the constant need for security.

I pulled the wool over my own eyes and pretended I didn't know deep down that yes, he really was a shark. A monster.

The baby came soon after the marriage - unexpected but not unwelcome. I was barely done with rehab - still seeing a psychiatrist who was unsure of what the pregnancy would do to me but I was overjoyed. He was born on the ninth of August and I named him Eric Daniel Black. And I did not, could not, stop smiling.

I felt like I had finally repaid my debt to Thomas. For years he had taken care of me and I had had nothing to give in return - I could not even find it in my heart to love him. But then I had given him a gift unparalleled by anything in the universe: a beautiful, healthy son.

The same son that gripped my hand tight as I walked too fast for his short little legs down a dark street of Manhattan. It had begun to drizzle and the street was practically deserted beside a cab passing now and again.

The house I hadn't visited for years came into view and it was exactly as I remembered. A feeling of dizzying relief washed over me, but my posture remained stiff and tense. I was alert while my son yawned and dragged his feet, his tiny, frail body failing him.

'Almost there, now.' I assured him in a voice I hoped sounded cheerful. 'Almost there,' I repeated low to myself.

We clambered up the steps to the grand front door of a town house I hoped still belonged to my best friend. I hauled up my single suitcase and Eric's bag before fishing in my pocket for a key.

Blair's town house was barely used. Blair herself now lived with her husband in Paris, and was far too busy as an event's manager to take a trip to the city that used to be her home. She'd given me the key years ago, and the tastefully decorated, deserted house was the first place I'd thought to come.

The door opened silently, revealing nothing but darkness beyond. I quickly ushered a lagging Eric inside, following with my bags. Before I closed the front door on the empty street, I cast a paranoid look round. Stupid really.

As soon as the door clicked shut, I allowed myself a sigh.

'Mommy?' Eric's shaky voice sounded near my thigh, his tiny hand tugging on mine. He'd always been afraid of the dark.

'It's okay, now. We're safe.'

We moved through the house together and I flicked the light switches as we went.

At the back of the beautiful house, in the kitchen, I asked, 'are you hungry? We've travelled a long way.'

I doubted the fridge would be stocked, but there must be food around somewhere…

Eric shook his head where he stood in the doorway, clutching tightly at the frame. 'I want to go home.'

My business-like demeanor crumpled, along with my face. 'Eric…' I whispered, moving toward my baby with my arms outstretched.

There was a crash above us that caused my head to jerk upward. I stared uselessly at the ceiling while my throat choked up with fear. Irrationally, my first thought was that he had found us; my second thought was maternal terror for my child before my fight or flight instincts kicked in.

I ran forward toward Eric, my heart thudding painfully in my chest, and scooped him up to hold him close as I ran back through the house to where I'd deserted our luggage in the hallway.

My hand was on the doorknob when I heard 'Serena?' in a familiar voice, but not one I expected. 'Oh my God – Serena!' The voice repeated, before I even had the chance to turn, but the tone had changed from shock to joy.

I was barely processing things when there was the light pad of foot steps on the carpeted stairwell and Blair was pulling me into a one armed hug, using her hand to stroke Eric's face affectionately.

'Hi, Aunt Blair.'

'Um – hi, Blair.' I greeted awkwardly, eyes on the floor.

My best friend pulled back, face aglow and exactly as I remembered it. She grinned and I felt a bittersweet pang pull at my heart.

'What the hell are you doing here? How are you? I mean just –' words seemed to fail her and she simply repeated, 'oh my God!'

I smiled weakly. 'I'm so sorry to bother you. I thought no one would be home.'

'Bother me? What the hell are you talking about? I'm so happy to see you – this is – this is amazing! God, it has been so long!'

Blair appraised me with her eyes. 'You both look exhausted, come in and sit down.'

'Are you sure you don't mind?' I worried my bottom lip with my teeth, hesitating to follow her as she danced of happily to the lounge.

'What are you crazy? Get in here!'

Seeing Blair set of a nostalgic yearning within me. She was so beautiful, she was the same; she was home.

I had been overwhelmed when I'd first seen her, but now as we sat facing each other on her large couch, I took the time to properly drink her appearance in. And as I did, I felt saddened.

She was stick thin, collarbone protruding beneath the thin material of her silk nightgown and it seemed as though her whole frame was missing flesh. She was simply skin and bones. I wondered with a stab of pain whether she was purging again.

'So what are you doing here?' Blair asked eagerly, taking my hands in hers and squeezing affectionately.

'Oh –' I frowned, and struggled with an explanation. 'Eric and I are taking a trip. I wanted to show him my home city. And you?' I was eager to shift the question away from myself, not wanting to lie.

'I'm here on business.' Blair told me.

'Is Albert…'

'No. He's in France.' She spoke curtly of her husband, and I thought it strange but did not linger.

'I hate to put this on you Blair, but…' I looked meaningfully at Eric, who was dozing, his head on my lap. 'It's just we've come along way…'

Blair put a hand up as if she were stopping traffic. 'Don't say another thing! I'll go make up the beds in the guest rooms. You wait here. If you need anything – like food, don't hesitate. Make yourselves at home, okay.'

'You are the best friend I could ask for,' I sighed in gratitude. She simply grinned in response.

I watched her prance to the door and then paused. I felt there was something she wanted to say. Perhaps she realized something was off in my tone, maybe she noticed something in my eyes. I wouldn't be surprised, no one knew me like Blair. She said nothing. Instead, she shook her head and smiled before proceeding out the room.

I listened to her muffled steps above me, wondering what the crash I'd heard earlier had been – I guessed it was her slamming a door. Eric's breath came out calm and steady as he slept deeply and I stroked his soft blonde hair, feeling the warmth of his scalp beneath my fingers.

'Bed's are done.' Blair appeared some minutes later. 'I'll have your rooms properly prepared tomorrow when Patricia's here.' I guessed Patricia was her cleaning service. 'How long are you planning to stay?'

'Oh I don't want to impose – I'll find a hotel.'

Paying for a hotel meant using a credit card. A credit card was traceable…

'Don't be stupid! As long as you're in New York, you're staying with me!'

How long was I going to stay in New York? I had no idea. I had no plan.

I followed Blair's lead, Eric still slumbering in my arms. She took me to a guest bedroom and pulled back the sheets of a queen-sized bed so I could lay her Godson down. I tucked him in and planted a kiss on his forehead.

Blair showed me the room I'd stayed in the last time I'd visited. It was painted a calm blue and decorated accordingly.

Blair made a show of the closet space and reminded me of the en suite. I realized I'd left my luggage downstairs, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I was too exhausted.

Blair sensed this, and bade me goodnight. Again she hovered at the door, looking as though words had gotten stuck to the roof of her mouth.

'Tomorrow.' I assured her, not knowing if this was a lie.

She nodded and closed my door.

I heard her retreat to her own bedroom.

I pealed of my coat, kicked of my shoes and collapsed on the bed. The sheets were cool against my skin and I felt the ache of fatigue begin to take over. Reaching up blindly, I switched off the lamp on the nightstand.

Being away from Eric – though I knew he was a few doors down – made me anxious and I found however close I was to sleep I was too distracted to actually fall under the night's spell. So I crept silently to his room and crawled in next to him. I took his unconscious form against my chest, inhaled the scent of his hair and was instantly asleep.

Chapter 2; (Blair POV) Blair learns Serena's deadly secret and decides to call for backup...