A/N: Apologies for the lag. I meant to spend two days home for the holidays, but spent three weeks, then arrived back just in time for rain and floods and five ridiculously long days without electricity. Better late than never, I guess.

A/N2: It was a rough week. Try to overlook the sappiness…

}{

Does it make any difference that I might be one thing deep within? No matter how wrong or ugly that thing is so long as I have fought with everything I have to kill it?

-Angels in America

}{

She wakes up alone in Blair's old bedroom. Blue walls and lace curtains make her feel more at home than she's felt in a long while.

There's a note on the bedside table.

S,

Gone to class. Don't go anywhere!

We'll figure this out.

-B

It's not one of those mornings when the night before feels overblown. It's not one of those mornings where the problems of yesterday feel distant. It's just another morning where she wakes up and wishes she didn't.

It's already midday when she goes downstairs. Dorota is immediately in front of her, hovering like an over concerned mother.

"Miss Serena, would you like some breakfast food or lunch? Miss Blair suggest I make you something special. Lots of nutrients. She say you been sick, not eating right." She shakes her head, horrified at the thought of one of her girls, out in the world, with no one to care for them when they get sick.

"It's fine. I'll make something later." Dorota purses her lips, straightening her spine almost imperceptibly. "I'll let you know when I decide on something," Serena corrects herself with a wan smile. Dorota had been dealing with Blair and her issues with food for years. Serena knows she wouldn't stand a chance.

Serena searches through the pantries for coffee. She knows Blair likes the French press stuff, but she really just wants instant. She doubts Waldorf's do instant coffee. Three more cupboards and she finds a bottle of Moccona next to Nate's stash. Silently she thanks Nate. She takes the coffee, eyes lingering a second too long on the whiskey,

"Don't bother thinking about it," Chuck drawls threateningly.

"I wasn't," she answers, turning. "And aren't there laws against stalking?" she asks before taking a closer look at him. He looks fazed, eyes a touch wild in his stony expression. "What's wrong?"

Slowly he slides a manila folder across the bench towards her. She half opens up the top page, reads a few words before slamming it shut. "Blair told you?" she whispers in amazement.

"No," he responds darkly, "but she damn well should have. Neither of you have the right to keep this from me."

"How'd you find out?" No one knows. She's sure of it. She only went to the doctor a few days ago and Blair is the only person she's told.

"You looked sick…" he trails off. He was worried the last time he saw her. He found her doctor's office and paid a nurse to copy her files. But he did it on a whim, a vague feeling that something wasn't right. He hadn't expected this.

Serena bites her lip, fights hard just to meet his gaze

"The dates all add up. It's mine, isn't it?" he bites out, sharp eyes boring into her, trying to read her very soul.

She crosses her arms, lifts her chin and refuses to be read. "You don't know that. You don't know when I was with Dan—"

"Don't Serena!" he roars. "Not one more fucking lie. Not one! Not about this."

Serena looks down for a split second, then looks back up and there's nothing left in her eyes. It's just that cold socialite steel. "It's Dan's."

Chuck pales. He spreads his hands out on the bench so he doesn't stagger. She can't. She wouldn't.

"You're not going to tell him, are you?" he asks disbelievingly. "Serena, what are you thinking? Do you think you're going to get away with this? Do you think this is going to end happily?"

There's only one thing she is certain of. No one's getting a happy ending. Not in this story.

Chuck tries to find a balance, tries reason. "I've never asked you for anything—"

"Then don't ask for this!" She steps around the counter, trying to regain control of her breathing.

Her words leave him stricken. This world—he always knew it was screwed up; he never thought it could be this malicious.

Her breath is coming too fast and her vision Is strangely blurred, but she isn't going to fall to pieces. Not now.

He sidesteps her, blocking the exit. "Fuck, Serena. Just listen! You are about to do something really, really stupid. Can't you tell when you've gone too far?"

No. Yes. No. Yes.

He moves out of her way, praying she'll stay.

"Bye Chuck."

}{

He's still there when Blair and Nate arrive home an hour later.

He's not doing anything. Just slumped under the kitchen bench, clutching the manila folder in both his hands.

Nate's grin fades slowly.

Blair pauses just inside the kitchen door, but Nate keeps walking till he covers Chuck in his shadow. "What's up?" Nate asks quietly.

"Ask your fiancée," he responds sullenly.

Nate glances over his shoulder, but Blair simply glares at Chuck. "How should I know?" she responds slightly too fast.

Nate just sighs, reaching down to take the folder. Chuck grabs for it, but Nate's reflexes are better. He flips through the pages, face frozen in shock. He glances back again. "Is this what last night was about?"

Predictably, Blair remains silent.

He holds down a hand and pulls Chuck to his feet. "Are you—are you the...?" And he stumbles over the words, not quite ready to call Chuck that.

Chuck gives a caustic smirk. "It's Serena. That kid could be anyone south of the North Pole's."

Blair just frowns at him. Nate looks between them, runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "What does Serena say?"

"Same thing she always does: Dan." The words don't come out as sarcastic as he intended. They're bleak and painful and no one can find a response.

"Where is she?" Blair asks after a moment.

"How should I know?" He mocks childishly.

He snatches the folder back on his way out.

}{

As much as Serena once loved Georgina (and she had loved Georgina a lot once), she hates her now.

Oddly, Georgina's the person that plays on her mind most now.

I've changed.

There'd been nothing but a disbelieving flicker of swampy blue eyes.

Clever Georgie. Always knew too much.

She'd fallen into a hole this deep only once before, and she always believed Georgina helped dig it. Now that she's in here alone, no way out, she can't help wondering how Georgina got out.

After all, she's playing Georgina's cards this time around.

I guess you haven't changed as much as you thought…

But she is different, isn't she? It can't be the same. She loves Dan. That has to count for something.

But didn't Georgina love him once? Didn't Georgina look up at same boy, pleading for him to make things better?

It's visible now. The slight imperfection in her stomach that is going to topple down this house of cards. It will destroy everything.

Bitterly she wonders who it inherited that gift from.

They pass the afternoon tangled in Dan's sheets, ceiling fan whirring slowly. Dan holds his hand over her lower stomach, eyes so enraptured it makes her ill.

"I know you didn't want this, Serena, but everything's going to be okay."

Serena smiles beautifully, because she knows no other way.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Now she's made a liar out of Dan too.

}{

"Oh, S," Blair breathes, voice filled with sympathy, disappointment, and just a tiny bit of fear.

"What?" Serena asks guilelessly. Denial was always Blair's bit, but Serena's learning fast.

Blair just shakes her head. What can she say? She knows Serena, knows that once she's made a decision there's no point in arguing. If Serena wants to lie to Dan, and Chuck, and the world, well, Blair would too.

"This is what you want?"

Serena just looks a way. "Blair" she begs, already at her limit for everything.

"Okay, we'll go shopping then," Blair replies, easily changing the subject. "Alice and Olivia have some of the cutest baby dresses and –"

"No!" Serena shouts suddenly, before regaining control. "I just mean—I don't think we should…"

Blair takes a step forward, plants her hands firmly on her hips. "I know what you meant and it stops now, Serena!" She lowers her voice, mindful that Dan might be home. "You're what, four months along? And you didn't find out till this week?" Blair asks, voice dripping with accusation. The avoidance and the suspicious behaviour—it all makes sense now. "You can't pretend this away."

Serena glares back. "Like you can talk."

"And who was the one who forced me to face reality?" Blair shoots back. "You want Dan? Fine, I'll do whatever it takes to keep this charade going, but if you think I'll let you punish your own baby for your mistakes—"

"I wouldn't!" Serena cries, eyes widening in shock.

"Really?" Blair asks disbelievingly. "Then where are your prenatal vitamins? Where are your gynaecologist appointments? Why do you look like you haven't eaten a proper meal in a week?"

"I don't—I wasn't thinking." Serena's face falls into heartbreaking lines.

Blair pause for just a seconds, makes sure the whole of her message has sunk all the way through, before taking the blonde's hand. "I know, but we've got a lot of work to do, okay?"

Serena nods in response, quiet and afraid.

"And it's not going to be all bad. Think of the tiny custom Louboutin's we have to order." Blair smiles gently. She never actually believed Serena would purposely hurt her baby, but sometimes Serena refuses to grasp the implications of her actions.

(In her current position, that should be obvious.}

Serena giggles. "It might be a boy, you know."

"Nonsense." Blair's lips tighten. The idea of Serena's daughter makes her want smile uncontrollably. A son of, well, it doesn't need to be said to know that that would be trouble. "Fine. We'll go to Baby Gap, see if they have any—" Don't say bowties. Don't say bowties. "Flannel shirts, just in case."

"I don't think the baby has fully developed lungs, yet. I'm not sure it needs a new wardrobe."

Blair waves a finger at Serena's stomach. "Oh, you are just so lucky you have Aunty B. Yes, you are," she coos.

}{

"Surprise!"

Serena struggles with the scarf around her eyes. Blinding sunlight pours through unfamiliar windows and she blinks a few times, trying to clear her vision.

"Where are we?" Serena laughs, looking back and forth between Lily and Eric.

Her mother gives a soft smile, letting Eric take the lead. "Your new apartment." His eyes crinkle in excitement, just waiting for her reaction.

"What?" Serena spins around twice, taking in the pure white walls and empty timber floors. She looks out the window then shoots a knowing glance at her mother.

"What? Is it a crime to want my daughter within a reasonable distance?" Lily questions.

The apartment is only two blocks away from the Van der Woodsen-Humphrey penthouse.

"You didn't have to do this, you know," Serena says, already wandering through the rooms.

"I know, Serena. You've already proved your independence a hundred times over. But when the baby comes you'll want your family near. You'll want all the help you can get," Lily finishes ominously.

"It's beautiful. Thank you."

She hugs Eric, because it's easier.

She knows it's also an apology. Her mother hadn't taken news of the pregnancy too well. There had been a lot of what were you thinking and you're throwing away your life, before the resignation had set in. The fact that Lily had to hear the news from Rufus hadn't helped.

She lets her mother make all the plans about furniture, decorators and how long they'll stay in the loft before this place is ready.

}{

Dan's gone more than ever. He's frantically trying to organise early assessment for his classes and push his book through the editing process.

She's still drinking her breakfast shake at the kitchen when he runs past her, planting a swift kiss on her cheek.

"Bye!" He throws open the door, nearly running straight into Nate. "Hey." They both manage a shoulder slap greeting, despite their overladen arms. "I was just running out…"

"It's cool man. Just got some more deliveries."

"I guess it's a good thing we've got the new place, this one will have to be converted into a warehouse for Waldorf's 'deliveries' soon," he complains loudly enough for Serena to hear.

With a wave he's gone.

Serena wrinkles her nose when Nate comes in. "More books?"

"Apparently these should get you to the two-year mark," he replies. "Where do you want them?"

"I can take them."

"I'll throw them in Dan's old room."

She gives a loud sigh. "Better hurry before I have to carry my cup to the sink all by myself," she mutters sarcastically.

Nate returns quick enough. "Come on, S. Give me a break. If you tripped carrying them and Blair found out, I won't ever get married." He shoves his hands in his pockets.

Her laugh stops short at his serious expression. "What?"

Nate stares at his feet. His lips are dry and this is just so hard. But he can't not. When he looks up his face is almost stony. "I'm sorry…"

Serena goes cold, already dreading his next words. "Why?"

"I can't—I can't let you do this. Not to Dan. Not to Chuck."

"What do you mean?" she asks in a strained voice.

He's never denied her anything before. Every muscle in his body wants to just apologise and run out of the apartment. But he already broke Chuck's heart once this year. If he lets Serena do it too, he'll never be able to claim the title of "friend" again.

"If you don't tell Dan, I will. For Chuck's sake."

"Don't do this Nate."

Those huge navy eyes plead with him and he weakens just a tiny bit. He looks away before she can do more damage. "I'll give you time to get a DNA test, if that's what you want."

"Please—"

"No. I'm sorry, Serena, but I have to do this." He did. He'd never seen the look on Chuck's face before. This was destroying him. And for no reason that Nate could understand, Chuck refused to do anything about it.

She tries to find something to say. Anything that would just make him stop. But Nate blanches, taking a step backwards. And she already knows what he's staring at over her shoulder. She spins, hand flying to cover her mouth.

"Dan." She takes a step forward, but Dan's face paralyses her.

He feels just as frozen. He keeps thinking about his manuscript. If he'd just grabbed it before he left he would never have found out. If he'd pulled those papers from his desk and shoved them into his bag like he meant to then his life would still be perfect. He'd have come back this afternoon and kissed Serena before whispering loving words to her stomach. He wants to scream, wants to fall to his knees and beg her to take the words back, beg the universe to break its own rules and just let him unknow it all.

But seconds pass and there's nothing but Serena's frantic eyes and Nate's sorrowful gaze.

"Is it Chuck's?" The words are hollow. He hears them as an echo.

Serena takes another step forward. She shakes her head, even as tears pool in her eyes, giving away the lie.

"How could you? How could you, Serena?" It's just a devastated whisper, but Serena looks like she's been slapped.

He collapses against the frame of the door, screwing his eyes shut. He can't stand to look at her now. It hurts. Not even in the sourest, most suspicious parts of his mind could he have imagined Serena could do this. Not Serena who was all childish giggles and innocent smiles.

"Dan, I was going to tell you! I was! I just—I needed time. And I couldn't hurt you!" Truth, lies, she doesn't know anymore. She buries her face in her hands. "I never wanted to hurt you." This is truth. The only truth she's certain of.

The words are mumbled into her hands, past her tears, but he still hears them. When he opens his eyes it doesn't hurt quite as much. Maybe it's because he doesn't recognise the girl in front of him. Her tears barely reach him. Her beauty doesn't touch him.

He doesn't know who she is.

Maybe he never did.

Dan leaves without saying another word.

She doesn't hear anything, not even her own sobs until Nate's words finally reach her. He whispers apologies, pleads with her to calm down. She shoves him away, scrubs at her face with the back of her arm and disappears before Nate can think about following.

}{

Chuck presses an icepack to his jaw, scowling till his fussing assistant finally leaves.

Employees pass by his office, gawking through the tinted glass walls. They'd been surprised enough when they found out their elusive CEO was actually in the building, hearing about him getting assaulted in his own office whipped them into a gossip frenzy. He touches the remote on his desk and blinds drifted soundlessly across the glass. He lets himself slump forward, dropping the dripping icepack to the floor.

Chuck had stood as soon as Dan marched through the doorway, a scandalized secretary following until he waved her away.

In three quick steps, Dan was only inches away. Chuck didn't move. He knew what this was about, could see it in Dan's devastated eyes, could hear it in the too sharp breaths.

"How long?" Dan had hissed.

"How long—what?" He played dumb, reluctant to dig himself or Serena in any deeper. If that were possible.

Dan shoved him hard and Chuck took a step back to keep his balance. "You and Serena. How long?" Dan shouted, quickly losing what little was left of his reason.

There was another slight pause as they locked gazes. Chuck desperately wanted to look away, didn't want to see that shattered look he'd helped create. (Hadn't he warned Humphrey, in every way possible, that one day he'd break him?) But if Dan could feel all that, then he should at least be able to look at it.

So he watched him evenly, and gave Dan the only thing he could. The truth. "I don't know."

In those three words, there was so much. Too much. A convoluted story that never quite stops before it starts again. He can remember the first time Serena came to him, and the last, but there are a hundred other times between and he can't remember which times Dan was somewhere in the background.

Dan had heard it too. He let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, swinging his fist hard and clumsy, catching Chuck's jaw more through sheer luck than anything else. Chuck stumbled backwards, catching himself on the edge of his desk.

He was really fucking sick of getting punched by Dan Humphrey. But he was more sick of deserving it, so he didn't back away, didn't try to get a punch in, just watched warily as Dan took a step closer.

"You ruin everything you touch, Chuck," Dan had pronounced slowly, words coming from somewhere deep and bitter. "And everyone." One day he'd probably feel sorry for Serena, but then all he'd felt was glad. She had made her bed. The edge of his lip curled in disgust. "You, her, all of you," because it was the four of them, the Upper East Side's cruellest offspring, with their secrets and lies and vicious loyalty, who had destroyed him, "you make me sick." And it wasn't even meant as an insult. Just the truth.

He hadn't waited for a response. There was no point. They never changed. And every second around them was toxic. Hadn't Jenny proved that?

Chuck struggles to sit up again, picks the ice from the floor when half his face feels like it's on fire.

The pain is oddly cleansing.

}{

It takes Blair an embarrassingly long time to track down Serena. Honestly, her first thought was bars, so it was already dark as she pushed open the unlocked apartment door. The scarce furnishings were covered in tarps, scaffolding pushed against the walls. She hadn't actually been here before, so she stumbles down the hallway cursing the lack of electricity, before she finally finds the master bedroom.

If you can call it that when there's no bed.

Serena's on the linenless mattress, legs curled tight to gather what little warmth she can from her too short dress.

With a sigh Blair slips out of her shoes and coat. She curls up in front of Serena and spreads her woollen jacket over them.

Serena wriggles closer, a slight shiver running through her body. "Cold."

"Mmn," Blair agrees. Even with their faces only inches apart she can't decipher the look on Serena's face in the dusky light. There's probably a lot of questions she should ask. Stupid ones, with obvious answers, like are you okay. Instead, she asks the least important one. "Why'd you come here?"

"Wanted to be alone," Serena murmurs. Because she was kind of awful, and when you're that awful, you probably shouldn't have anyone comforting you.

"Too bad," Blair says fiercely, pressing her forehead against Serena's as if to prove this.

}{

She doesn't go back. Not for a while. But she's buying new underwear for the second time that week when she realises how truly pathetic she is.

So she goes to Dan's, to the loft that was never as much theirs as she liked to pretend. She knocks, using her key only when no one answers. Nothing's changed. It just feels that way.

Her towel is thrown carelessly over a dining chair. Her favourite mug sits by the sink. But the safety is gone. Dan and his Brooklyn loft had always been a retreat, a safe haven from the whirlwind that her life too often became.

She destroyed it with her lies, and not even she can pretend to be surprised by that.

Still, when she enters their old bedroom, there's a part of her that wants to crawl into the bed and beg Dan to hide her for just ten more minutes. Instead, she catches sight of his manuscript and she's already betrayed him in all the ways that count, so one more can't possibly hurt.

But she's wrong.

Because it hurts her.

She closes it before the second chapter. She packs her suitcase, never wondering why she can fit her life into a single bag, never wondering why what was supposed to her home contains so little of her.

It doesn't hurt that the female protagonist is blonde and tall and too beautiful for words. It doesn't hurt that her heart is bigger than her brain. It doesn't even hurt that her existence foreshadows the downfall of all those around her.

It hurts, that as much as she resembles that character, it isn't her.

It's not Dan's fault either.

She'd always tried to be someone else for him, someone better, it's only fair that he never knew her.

It's only fair that her paper doppelganger is nothing more than a shallow reflection of a girl that she and Dan created.

}{

He doesn't go to her.

It's a close thing, but in the end he's still Chuck Bass and at some point he's got to remember a time when he had pride.

So he waits. He has people watching the airports and Nate watching Blair and there's no way, no way at all that she can escape without him knowing about it.

It pays off. Two weeks later she's at his suite. It's different this time. There are no forlorn eyes or too-loud laughs, none of what he's come to expect from s Serena at his door.

He slouches against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "What do you want?"

There's only a second of hesitation before she pushes past him. "Be nice. I come bearing gifts." She offers up a new folder.

He scans through it. Doesn't say a word. Doesn't lift his eyes. As far as olive branches go, it's pretty much a trump card.

His fingers graze over the sonogram. Really, it's just green and black blurs to him, but he knows what those blurs represent and still can't quite believe it.

"It's a girl," she says with amusement, because Blair's always right and how stupid of her to forget that.

"Yeah?" His voice is husky, barely his at all. Serena just smiles sadly from his lounge, pulls one leg up to her chest and gazes at him too steadily, too long. "What?" he demands. She shrugs, looking away. He sits in the opposite chair, knowing this is the worst part, the part where they have to talk about feelings, as if either one of them ever learnt how to do that. "So…I'm surprised you're still here. Figured you'd be destroying yourself on some foreign beach."

"Really?" She laughs prettily and he doesn't believe it for a second. Serena lies like she breathes. Even her laugh lies. Abruptly, she quietens. "Do you remember the first time I kissed you?" He shakes his head, even though he does. Serena continues as if she didn't see him. "I'm twenty-two. When I was fifteen, I made a mistake and ran away. That was seven years ago. Seven years, Chuck. That girl doesn't exist anymore."

Her words make as little sense now as they did when they were fourteen. But it seems important to her. "I know that," he says simply, as if it were obvious.

It is important. She wants it to be different with Chuck. She doesn't want to ever realise that she spent years being loved by someone who never knew who she was, but almost immediately she feels foolish. Because to Chuck there'd never been any doubt as to who she was.

It makes her feel worse.

"I'm sorry." The words only seem more inadequate every time she says them.

"I know." Things had always been that easy between them. He wouldn't change that, not even for his pride.

She stands, nudges her way between his legs. "I don't know how to fix things between us."

He loops his arms loosely around her hips, tilts his head back when she curls her fingers through his hair. Fixing things is his job, too. Always.

"I love you." It's unmanly. He barely says it without choking on the words. But if he'd said those three words a year and a half ago, when she'd wanted to stay with him, when she'd wanted them to last, then they probably could have avoided a lot of misery.

She watches his struggle, understanding how badly he wanted this conversation over. "We'll never last," she announces lightly.

He relaxes against her. "Probably not," he agrees.

"We bring out the worst in each other. We can't be in the same room without fighting," she adds conversationally.

He tightens his arms around her waist, rolls his eyes up to smirk at her. "Unless we're fucking."

"You're disgusting." He ignores her, pressing kisses through the cotton of her shirt, the heat of her stomach making his lips tingle. "And I love you anyway."

"I know," he murmurs again. Because he knew her, and it was the only thing that made this whole ordeal bearable.

One of his hands slides around the back of her thigh. She shivers lightly when his fingers play over her skin, just below the hem of her skirt.

No one had made her feeler safer than Dan.

But no one could make her happier than Chuck.

She leans down to press her lips against his and it feels like benediction.

"Maybe you can come stay at my place sometime," she offers.

"Yeah?"

She smiles beautifully and he sees straight through it.

"But you have to tell my mom."

}{

Fin.

}{