Author's Note: I have absolutely no excuse for not updating this sooner, except maybe the content makes it hard to work on when people may pass by me. This will obviously be AU now, considering the changes that have occurred since the episode that inspired me to write this in the first place.

I will never recover from this. This is a reoccurring thought that passes through my mind so many times. Although it been months since the "incident," as I had begun to refer to it with Dorota, I still hurt. Everything physically aches as if it had just happened, but I'm numb. There are no feelings except fear and despair.

If I was a recluse before, this certainly wasn't helping. I mainly sit and stare, in my bed, by my window, in the living room if my mother's not home. Dorota brings me food, which I mostly don't eat, and eyes me with a concerned look, making excuses to my mother when she wonders why I'm not coming out of my room. I know I will eventually have to either tell her what happened or suck it up and pretend nothing is wrong. I'm leaning towards the latter.

I must've had nightmares every night for the first month following. They've since lessened in frequency but not in terror. I wake up in a cold sweat, pajamas and sheets soaked, unable to fall back asleep until Dorota comes in the morning. She sits with me while I sleep.

I'm not doing well. I've lost weight and have become very pale. I hardly sleep and seem to look perpetually exhausted. I don't see anyone, not that anyone really calls. Dorota's having a hard time satiating my mother's curiosity regarding my recent behavior. She tells me as such, trying to be casual, but I see right through her. I agree to escort her to feed ducks at the park with Anastasia, but only because its winter and I can hide behind lots of layers.

This is how I run into Dan Humphrey. I see him before he sees me and I feel a panic rise in my chest instantly. I do not want to see him. He looks well, wearing a fitted pea coat and scarf with fitted jeans. He looks casual and happy. He's alone, but talking on his phone, laughing heartily, I'm sure at something Serena is saying. I feel myself glaring and quickly turn away so he can't feel my eyes watching him. I see Dorota watching him and quickly distance myself from her, in case he should recognize her and come to ask about me. This proves to be pointless because when I turn around to see where he is, he is right behind me.

He looks surprised, but not unpleasantly so, and at a loss for words. He has a half smile I know probably wants to be a full smile as he tries to decide what to say. He's taking the sight of me in, but when he reaches my eyes, the smile is gone and concern is clear on his face. The first words anyone other than Dorota has said to me in nine months are, "Where have you been?"

I don't know how to answer that. I should've prepared something. The uncertainty and fear that I am sure is evident on my face will prevent any scathing remark I may have quickly whipped up from having an effect on Dan. He knows me too well, despite our limited acquaintance.

I realize I still haven't said anything, my mouth hanging open, eyes looking over his right shoulder trying to summon a reasonable response. And then he asks the question that breaks me. "Are you okay?"

My eyes will dart to his and then well with tears as I look down at the space between us. There's no recovering this situation now. I am not the Blair he knows, or the Blair I know for that matter. I am a stranger in my broken body.

I see his arms come up from his side like he wants to comfort me and I swiftly take a step back to prevent contact. This stuns him. "Do you want to talk about it? Maybe get a cup of coffee?" he asks just before Dorota comes to my side, giving the excuses that are too late now. What a spectacle this must seem to Dan. I seem to have lost my mind, crying in the park and my housekeeper is practically beating him away from me.

Maybe I'm just really lonely. I'm not sure what excuse can be given for my next action, but before Dorota can dissuade his concern, I say, "Yes." Dorota looks at me as if I've grown a second head and Dan gives me a small smile. I walk past him and away from Dorota, trying to give her my best reassuring smile.

We walk in silence to the nearest acceptable coffee shop where Dan instructs me to find a table and he waits in line to order our coffee. Once he has returned, he sits and stares at me through the steam from our cups. I fidget nervously before finally making eye contact. "I can't talk about it," I start. He has no reaction to this declaration, just nods his head and continues to wait. I shift under his unwavering gaze, take an avid interest in the floor. When I realize he has no intention of letting up, I turn my head in his direction but don't make eye contact. "Why were you so excited to see me?" I ask his hairline and shirt collar.

"I was worried you were dead," he says simply.

"I wish I was," I mutter under my breath.

"I won't make you talk about anything you're uncomfortable with, but you can't expect to say things like that without making me more curious."

I bite my lip and look him in the eyes. "That's fair."

"You seem tired."

You have no idea, I think. I nod instead. This is awkward, but then again Dan was always awkward.

"Do you want to see a movie? The Woman With the 5 Elephants is playing at Film Forum. My treat."

"We haven't finished our coffee," I point out dully.

"We could get it to go," he offers hopefully.

It's at this point I notice my heart is racing. I'm unable to make eye contact again. The thought of being in the dark, where anyone could just touch me… I can't breathe. I feel the tears prick the back of my eyes. I don't think I'm scared of Dan, but he is a man. A fairly attractive man, showing me attention that I'm not sure I want. I find myself shaking my head and moving towards the exit. I'm outside in the cold and it feels good to gulp giant breaths of the cold and hold it in my lungs. I've walked a couple blocks when I hear Dan shouting my name. The tears have come now and I'm more embarrassed than anything else. He's going to think I've lost my mind. Maybe I have.

He finally reaches me, gasping for breath, holding out our coffees in to-go cups and my coat and purse to me. I take all four items and he puts his hands on his knees, trying to regain a normal breathing pattern. "My interest is officially piqued," he says. "You are clearly not yourself."

"I wasn't trying to pique your interest, I, I," I'm at a loss for words. The tears are threatening to spill again and I wish so much I could just disappear from this situation. I close my eyes tightly willing the tears to go away and trying to pretend I wasn't standing on a busy sidewalk holding two coffees with my coat draped over an arm. This can't possibly be my life.

"Hey," I hear Dan's soft voice say, "I meant what I said earlier. I won't make you talk about anything you're uncomfortable with. I'm just always going to want to know. And also you ran away from me back there."

I opened my eyes and saw a slight smile twisting his lips. I couldn't help but give him a small wince of a smile in return. "That's better!" Dan said excitedly. "I'll get a full smile out of you yet. So no movie. That's fine. Um, do you want to go back to the park? Ice skating? Hell, we can even do all the cheesy touristy things we've never done because, well, we live in New York." His hopeful smile was back.

I agree to ice skating because I can be around other people and but get away quickly if I suddenly need to be alone. Dan chatters mindlessly the whole way there about anything and everything and although I'm not really paying attention, I smile weakly and nod, because honestly it's nice to have someone new around. People passing us on the street probably think we're friends, and for some reason this thought warms my heart just a tiny bit.

We arrive at the rink and Dan pays for the skate rental and patiently waits as I lace up. He laughs at his ungraceful stumbling about and is always careful not to grab me when he falls. After about a dozen or so falls, I grab his elbow with some annoyance and show him some techniques to stay on his feet at least.

He's appreciative and pleasant and I feel that I might be going back to normal. All I need is his easy smile and warm laugh. We loop lazily about the rink several times, dodging children before I start to shiver. Dan notices quickly and suggests we get a hot chocolate at a nearby café. We skate to the exit and sit to unlace our skates. Dan goes to return them and get our shoes when I get the eerie feeling that I'm being watched. I try to shake it off, I'm being paranoid. The afternoon with Dan has made me feel like I'm a normal girl, with normal things to worry about.

But I can't squelch that feeling of nauseated dread in the pit of my stomach. I look around at the other skaters and people milling about. I don't see anyone I know. I try to take a deep breath as irrational panic starts to wash over me.

"Hey, are you okay?" I snap back to attention and there's Dan standing above me, his shoes in one hands, mine in the other. He looks concerned, but bemused and the half smile he gives me feels reassuring for some reason. I smile back, "Yeah, my feet just hurt from those disgusting rental skates. If I have contracted a foot fungus, I'm forwarding the medical bills to you."

He laughs and rolls his eyes before he hands me back my shoes.