“Do I need to stick my finger down your throat and hold your hair back?”


Author: LittleDancer-123x (Melanie)

Rated: T+ because of occasional language, and strong references to eating disorders.

Published: December 11th 2008

Story Type: Multi-Chapter

Summary: Inspired from the line “Do I need to stick my finger down your throat and hold your hair back?” 2x13. Goes back to freshman year, and works up to present day, how Blair’s disorder developed and how Chuck was there along the way. Multi-Chapter. CB, SB friendship.


Chapter 4


Blair heard his voice in the bathroom, and her throat clenched.

“Chu-” She began weakly, attempting to stand.

She couldn’t even get up fully before her knees were drawn back down to the floor again, and her fingers were clasped to the seat.

Her gag reflex had been activated, and now she couldn’t stop.

There was nothing she could do.

She had never felt so out of control.


He was calling her again, this time concerned.

She heard him coming down to the end cubicle; knocking on the door.

“Blair? Are toi in there?”

She was coughing again, but there was nothing coming up anymore.

She counted to five to be sure her throat was clear, and then attempted to talk.

“Just a second!”

What else could she say?

What was she going to say?

She knew Chuck wouldn’t leave her alone.

“Blair, are toi okay?”

“Just a second!” Blair wailed a little desperately.

She didn’t know what to do.

Years of working so hard for perfection, and it was all going to be ruined.

Everyone was going to know just how imperfect she really was.

Taking a deep breath, she flushed the toilet, and stood up.

Her fingers fumbled with the lock before it opened.

Then she was out of the cubicle, facing him.

Chuck stared at her, opening his mouth, unsure of what to say.

Blair gave him a small smile, and went over to the sink to wash her hands, shutting her eyes tightly, trying to block it all out.

Chuck, the bathroom, the stall behind her.

“Why didn’t toi tell someone?”

Blair stiffened when she felt Chuck behind her.

Her throat was clenching again, the same way it had when he had called her name when he entered the bathroom.

When she had been crouched on the floor, her finger down her throat.

How could she be expected to tell someone?

“You could have told me, ou Serena, ou Nate if toi felt sick.”

Blair stopped washing her hands, the tap still running.

Chuck just thought she had felt sick?

She had instantly presumed him walking in on her would mean that he knew; he could usually read her like a business proposal, ou a men’s magazine.

If he didn’t know, nobody had to.

“I just-” Blair tried to find an excuse.

If she could play this well enough, she would be fine.

“I just didn’t want to worry anyone.” She a dit in a small voice.

In some ways, it was true.

Chuck shook his head at her.

“Or toi thought that if toi a dit toi felt sick, everyone would think that toi were moaning, ou being pathetic.”

Blair looked up, and stared at him.

“Or did toi think that feeling sick would make toi seem less appealing to Nathaniel, ou Alicia?”

“Wait-” She tried to interrupt.

She didn’t like where this was going.

Chuck didn’t know the truth, but he was hitting so painfully close.

“Blair, nobody thought anything bad about toi when we were in Middle School. You’ve been with Nathaniel since kindergarten. toi don’t have to worry so much now; same school, same people, different building. toi don’t have to try so hard.”

“I’m not-”

“You are! Be yourself, try-hard Blair is just going to piss everyone off!”

Blair flinched when Chuck snapped at her.

He was glaring at her, and Blair was literally backed into a corner.


“But what?”

“Nobody else has to try hard! Nate was on the lacrosse team in two days and had everyone’s attention. toi knew half the senior an personally par the end of the summer. Serena- Serena’s just Serena. Everybody knows Serena. How can I keep up if I don’t try?”

Blair sighed, and tilted her head back against the wall.

Her throat was beginning to hurt from being sick, and arguing.

She didn’t want any of this; she just wanted things to be simple, easy and perfect, how they used to be.

“Blair-” Chuck began carefully.

He didn’t know what to say after her little outburst.

Blair was like him; she hated pity.

“I don’t want toi to feel sorry for me. Just don’t think I’m desperate and needy, either.” She muttered.

“I don’t.” Chuck a dit simply, staring at her. “I think you’re trying too hard, with no purpose. You’re perfect, and everybody loves you. Just be yourself.”

Blair lifted her head forwards, up from the tiles.


Someone else had a dit it to her within twenty four hours.

True, it was Chuck, but it was still someone.

She smiled, and Chuck relaxed.

Blair hadn’t even realised he had been tense before.

“Everybody loves me, Bass? Including you?” She played, trying to lighten the mood.

Chuck smirked, relieved that Blair didn’t seem to be upset anymore. He hadn’t realised he had touched a nerve, saying what he had said.

He always regretted hurting her, she was a good friend.

“I like toi enough. I doubt I’ll ever go as far to say love; you’re not my type.” He teased.

Blair pouted.

Chuck shook his head at her, laughing.

“Come on, princess. You’ve got your actual Prince Charming downstairs, probably wondering where toi are. An Ugly Sister, too.”

He held his hand out, and Blair took it, standing straight without the support of the wall.

“I hope I’m not seen leaving this bathroom with you. That would be a newsflash, Chuck and Blair, holding hands.”

Chuck dropped her hand when they were walking, still laughing.

“Why not? toi might finally get on Gossip Girl.”


They came down to the busy ground floor with students pushing past them, everyone having something to do before the end-of-lunch cloche, bell rang.

Amongst the crowds, a blonde head was flicking about.

Then she stopped.

“Blair! There toi are!”

Serena walked over to them, nobody attempting to push past her.

“Where were you? Chuck disappeared, and then Nate and I realised you’d been gone ages.”

Blair opened and closed her mouth.

Chuck glanced at her, and rolled his eyes.

“She was in the bathroom, being sick.”

He earned a sharp look from Blair when Serena instantly pulled her into a hug.

“Oh, sweetie! Why didn’t toi tell me?”

“I-” Blair shifted uncomfortably in Serena’s embrace.

This was just perfect.

“She didn’t want to worry anybody.” Chuck supplied helpfully, with a smug smile.

Blair wanted to wipe the self-satisfied look off of his face.

“Oh, Blair!”

Serena held her tighter, the people around them looking to see what was happening.

Chuck delighted in Blair’s unease.

“Of course, she wouldn’t have been a worry. I was just about to take her to the nurse.” He lied smoothly, putting a hand on Blair’s arm.

She shook it off, glaring at him.

“Chuck, there’s no need.” Blair a dit firmly.

“She’s right. There’s no need, I’ll take her.” Serena agreed brightly, keeping one arm around Blair and walking her down the corridor.

“But-” Blair tried to interject, knowing there was no point.

She glanced back at Chuck, furiously.

He smirked.


“Why didn’t toi tell someone?” Serena sat with Blair outside the nurse’s office.

There was a sign up on the door, Back in Five Minutes, and they weren’t the only people waiting.

Blair looked at the two seniors and sophomore on the other side of the waiting area, and held onto her stomach.

It felt sore, and she felt awful.

Now she was sat down, with Serena, her actions were closing in on her.

What she had done.



Chuck just had to walk in on her.

Just had to put her in this situation.


Blair turned to her best friend, just realising that she had been speaking to her.

Her eyes widened in guilt, and realisation.

This meant she had broken her promise, that stupid promise, twice.

“Is this why toi were quiet? I knew something was wrong, and I could tell from the way Nate and Chuck were looking they did too. Why didn’t toi just say something, Blair?”

Serena looked so worried, about her.

Blair couldn’t respond to her questions, she couldn’t say anything.

It would mean being a liar to her best friend, on haut, retour au début of everything else.

“Blair, talk to me.”

Serena then spotted the slow tear that had started down Blair’s cheek.

“Oh, Blair…” She put her arms around her, the same way she had in the hallway minutes ago.

This time Blair returned the gesture.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“Serena? Blair? What’s going on?”

Alicia was stood outside the waiting area, looking at the two freshmen with an eyebrow raised.

“Nothing,” Serena responded whilst keeping a protective arm around Blair, who was trying to wipe the last tear from her face at the sight of the influential senior. “Blair was sick and still doesn’t feel very well.”

Alicia genuinely looked concerned.

“Oh, poor thing... maybe I can make her feel better?” She smiled, and Blair looked up. “My Friends and I have decided we want both of toi to come for lunch on the steps Monday. The Met steps, not the school ones.”

Blair tried not to lose the honor par montrer too much excitement.

“Thank you,” She replied graciously instead. “I’d l’amour to.”

“Me too.” Serena agreed, beaming.

“Good,” Alicia nodded at them both. “I’ll see toi around.”

Then she was gone.

“That should be fun.” Serena a dit happily, pleased Blair had brightened up considerably.

Blair nodded thoughtfully, surprised at the sudden turn in events.

She had been accepted, as a project at least.

They thought she was good enough.

Maybe Chuck and her mother hadn’t just been playing kindness, maybe she really was closer to perfect than she had donné herself credit for recently.

Now she just had to prove them all right.


“Blair was sent home.”

Nate had been looking for her after school for ten minutes. He had promised he would do something with her that afternoon.

It had annoyed him, because it meant missing lacrosse practise.

But Blair was Blair, and as much as she was bossy and annoying, and as much as he had been having seconde thoughts about what “being in a relationship” actually involved, she was his girlfriend; he cared about her.

So he would do it if it kept her quiet for a week.

“What?” He asked, seeing Serena coming over.

Chuck, who was with him, looked up too.

“Blair was sent home. She was sick earlier, and was really upset and didn’t feel well when we went to the nurse.”

Nate sighed in relief, but Chuck twitched his jaw in concerned thought.

“Is she okay? She wasn’t upset when I left her, what happened?”

If it was because oh what she had told him, he wanted to reassure her that he wouldn’t tell anyone; he knew Blair would be totally humiliated if she thought everyone pitied her.

At the same time he would reassure her that she was perfect, which he genuinely thought she was.

“I don’t know. I’m going over now to check on her, want to come?”

“Yes.” He accepted instantly.

“No.” Nate declined almost as fast.

Serena and Chuck both turned to look at him.

“I have lacrosse. I was going to have to do something with Blair earlier, but if I don’t have to now, I’m not going to miss practise.”

Serena seemed to accept the excuse and mentally shrug his declination off, but Chuck stopped him walking away.

“Wait, if she was upset you’re probably going to be the most important person to her. She loves you, toi always make her smile.”

Serena grinned at Chuck basse, bass being thoughtful, secretly impressed.

Nate just bit his lip.

“I’m sure toi and Serena can do the same job between you. I’ll come over straight after practise. It’ll be fine.”

Chuck felt something stir inside him.

“Nathaniel, she’s your girlfriend. She should mean plus to toi than a ball and a stick.”

Exhaling deeply, Nate accepted defeat.

“Fine. I’ll come with toi guys to see Blair. I just hope she appreciates it.”

“She will.” Chuck confirmed.


Blair arrived accueil just after one o’clock.

She didn’t like the walk accueil from school anymore, having grown used to Chuck’s limo being at her service.

Not that she would have accepted a lift from the self-satisfied jerk at any rate.

What he had done with her and Serena had just been downright mean.

Blair huffed in frustration as the elevator opened.

“Dorota!” She called out almost immediately, walking into the open hallway.

The Hungarian maid appeared from the direction of the kitchen, waving her arms to quieten Blair and giving nervous glances upstairs.

Blair followed her gaze and questioned it.

“Why, what’s happening?” She whispered.

A shout broke the quiet.

“No, we sort this out now!”

“Your mama have important talk with your papa.” Dorota said, taking Blair’s manteau to try and distract her.

“Daddy? What did daddy do?”

Blair wasn’t distracted easily, and as soon as the manteau was off she ran over to the stairs.

“Miss Blair!”

Dorota caught up to her, taking her arm.

“Not up there Miss Blair, not nice words. toi come with me to kitchen, I make toi food, and toi tell me why toi accueil from school early.”

“I want to know with which and why toi are sleeping with one of my models!”

Blair’s head snapped up, and she felt chest tighten.

“Come, Miss Blair.” Dorota a dit softly, trying to lure her away.

Blair slapped her hand off of her arm, and sat on the bottom of the stairs.

If her mother was insinuating that her daddy was having an affair, she wanted to know why.

“This is ridiculous!”

She heard her father call back, and Blair agreed with him mentally.

“It most certainly is not! You’re at accueil less than I am, and considering your field of work requires less over time and travel than mine, that is highly suspicious!”

“You’ve never picked up on it before!”

“I didn’t this time! Blair did!”

Dorota glanced at the small girl on the stairs, and watched her reaction.

Blair’s eyes widened, and her mouth twitched in confusion.

This was all wrong.

Her mother had a dit everything was fine, and her mother didn’t lie.

She had a dit it after she told her she was perfect.

But her parents were arguing, and her mom was saying she suggested her father was having an affair.

That wasn’t the truth.

That was a lie.

Blair was lost.

“What do toi mean, Blair did?”

That’s what Blair wanted to know, too.

“She’s worried, Harold. You’re never at home, and she spoke to me about it. She knows it’s not right, that something’s wrong.”

Eleanor spoke so smoothly that Blair believed it too.

She searched her memory for when she had spoken to her mother about her father.

Three weeks ago?

“I miss daddy. When he comes accueil from business, we’re going shopping together. I hope he’s back soon, he’s been gone an awfully long time.”

That was it, it had to be.

Blair hugged her knees to her chest, not wanting to hear any more.

Hear any plus of the argument she had caused.

“Miss Blair, toi come with me now.”

Dorota stood over her, offering her a hand.

Blair took it, and stood up.

They went into the cuisine silently, and Dorota shut the door to block out any potential shouting.

“Why toi accueil from school?” She asked brightly, attempting to change the subject.

Blair wordlessly handed her the sick note the nurse had donné her, and sat on a tabouret par the cuisine countertop.

She had made her parents fight.

She had gotten her daddy in trouble.

She had caused her perfect family to crack a little.

“Ah, toi were sick. toi know what good for sickness? My mama’s pomme pie.” Dorota smiled at her, and went over to the bakery cupboard.

“I make one earlier, toi have first piece.”

Blair tried to return the smile when Dorota handed her the plate and fork, but it was hard to force.

She tucked into the pie to have an excuse for her silence.


Eleanor called out, her heels clicking against the marble flooring of the hallway.

The cuisine door opened, and she appeared, looking unnaturally well groomed.

“Dorota, I must- what is Blair doing home?”

Her eyes fixed on her daughter, but she questioned the maid.

Blair sat tensely.

“She sent accueil from school, sick.” Dorota came vers l'avant, vers l’avant with the note, but Eleanor waved it away.

“I don’t need that. I can tell from looking at her that she’s perfectly fine.” Eleanor shook her head to take her gaze off of Blair, and began looking around the room instead, as though furiously searching for something. “I do not pay that school forty thousand dollars to disrupt her education with half jour holidays!”

Blair twitched in her seat, frightened slightly.

Her mother came forward, and took the fork out of her hand.

“What is supposedly wrong?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow above a cold eye.

Blair stuttered for the first time in her life.

“I-I was sick.”

Eleanor remained firm.

“Then toi should not be eating baked goods. You’re fourteen, Blair, your metabolism is beginning to set and won’t do what it did when toi were twelve. You’re hormonal and your growth spurt still needs to come, if there’s any time you’re going to gain weight, it’s now. Your body should have been giving toi enough prompts without my stating the clearly obvious!” Her voice raised an octave, and Blair shrank beneath it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Go to your room,” Eleanor commanded, gesturing for her to leave. “I need to speak with Dorota about something important.”

Blair nodded quietly, and her tabouret scraped back on the tiles as she slipped off and out of the room.

She ran once she was out of sight, along the hallway and up the stairs.


The elevator doors opened and Nate, Serena and Chuck entered the hallway just before half past three.


Serena called out loudly, whilst Nate and Chuck went over to look at a stock update sheet that had clearly been left out par Harold.

Dorota came downstairs, seeming uncertain.

“Miss Blair is upstairs. She not well.”

“We know,” Serena a dit casually. “I went with her to the nurse.”

Dorota nodded briskly, blocking the blond from coming up the stairs.

“Thank you, but Miss Blair not up to receiving guests now. Later, possibly.”

“Ask her,” Chuck called over his shoulder, having taken interest in the conversation. “Tell her we’re all here: Me, Serena, Nate.”

Dorota glanced at the three teenagers nervously.

“I go up and check. toi three please wait. Here.”

She ensured that the little group were seated comfortably in the sitting area with no intentions of moving before going upstairs.

Fifteen minutes passed, but she didn’t return.

“Screw this!” Chuck muttered, swinging his legs around the chaise to go investigate.

“I missed lacrosse to sit in Blair’s apartment.” Nate complained.

“Nate, Blair will appreciate it! Chuck, sit down, Dorota will have a fit!” Serena tried to keep everything in order.

“I’m only going upstairs quickly, to check everything’s okay, find Dorota, and ask about Blair. She probably forgot, she’s senile.”

“She is not!” Serena snapped, unconvinced.

Chuck could sound very certain at times.

“I’m going upstairs.”

Times like that moment.

“I’ll be down in two minutes.”

She let him go.


After her mother had ceremoniously degraded her and exiled her from the kitchen, Blair wanted to do nothing plus than hide in her room.

Except, it meant being alone left her with her thoughts.

They were plaguing her.

“I miss daddy. When he comes accueil from business, we’re going shopping together. I hope he’s back soon, he’s been gone an awfully long time.”

That simple quote might have possibly ruined her parents’ relationship, her family.

She might soon be responsible for the ruin of the Waldorfs if her parents split.

All because of her stupid big mouth, and her mother thinking she meant something that she didn’t.

Her daddy must be crushed at the allegations.

Blair tried not to let the thought of him being sad stay with her, she didn’t want to cry.

She wasn’t going to cry.

She sat in the middle of the bed, rubbing the back of her neck to relieve the tension.

There had to be something she could do to just stop thinking.


Here eyes fell on haut, retour au début of her portable DVD player, sat in it’s little slot at the bottom of her movie rack.

She went over, and knelt before it, looking for a movie.

When her daddy had gone on his longest business trip, at the beginning of the summer, he had bought her a collection of Audrey Hepburn films to keep her occupied.

She had just seen Breakfast at Tiffany’s with Serena, and had fallen in l’amour with the lithe, doe eyed figure of elegance who had graced the screen within the beautiful story.

Blair looked through the collection that she hadn’t found time to watch amongst all her summer plans and preparations for high school.

Charade, Funny Face, Roman Holiday…

Roman Holiday. The tale of a princess who needs to find an escape within her overly refined lifestyle.


Blair took the disk, and slipped it in the player, setting it on haut, retour au début of the comforter as she slipped beneath, fully clothed.

Soon she was Lost in the story, unable to take her eyes off of Audrey.

It was all so effortless, all so simple, watching everything in black and white.

Life only got complicated when toi added the reality, the complications, the color.

Watching the movie was her very own Roman Holiday, she was Audrey Hepburn, and Audrey Hepburn was her for those two hours.

But then the disk stopped spinning, and the movie ended, and Blair was snapped back to where she was.

What had happened before.


She took the disk out of the player, and put everything away neatly, taking brisk action.

She had to do something right.

Her eyes caught her reflection in the mirror when she went over to her bureau to straighten her laptop, and she stopped.

Standing straight and tilting her head to the side, she began a critical examination in the same way she had that very first jour she had made her uniform adjustment for school.

She had been so convinced she was perfect.

Now she could see.

The imperfections.

Everything her mother had a dit in the cuisine hit her.

“Your body should have been giving toi enough prompts without my stating the clearly obvious!”

It was prompting her.

Blair could see every lump, every bump, every bulge beneath her uniform.

Everything that was wrong.

That pie…

She turned to the side, her hand resting on her stomach, thoughtful.

The sickness, it didn’t have to be what it was.

It didn’t have to be some crazy, spontaneous, disgusting habit she fell into when everything was screwed up.

It could be about her.

Her mother had been right, her metabolism wasn’t going to do what it used to do so well. It needed a little help, with dieting, and exercise, and… possibly something else.

Weight control.

Weight control.

Blair bit her lip, opening the door to her bathroom quietly, and cautiously entering.

Her breathing was heavy, her eyes wide with fear, but she forced herself some justification.

It wasn’t so bad if there was a reason.


Dorota had seen how upset Blair had been when she had left the kitchen, and also how insistent Eleanor had been that Blair remain in her room.

Not seeing her Friends for the night was the best idea.

She should have a little quiet time over the weekend; Blair was very sensitive, and the argument had probably affected her.

Specifically some elements.

Her Friends would see her on Monday.

The only problem was, they were there, and Dorota couldn’t argue well- particularly not when Chuck basse, bass was with the opposition.

It seemed much easier to go upstairs and finish her housework.

They would most likely think that Blair was not in fit state to receive guests, and go home.

She hadn’t realised Chuck basse, bass was not only argumentative, but also headstrong.

Unless a figure of authority clearly told him no, he didn’t give up.

Which was why he slipped up the stairs, and went into Blair’s bedroom to check for himself if she was okay.

He would pass the judgement as to whether she was well enough to see them, he was convinced it was fine.

Then he saw the empty bedroom, and went over to her bathroom door.


Blair was sat on the floor.

She had her toothbrush upside down in her hand, toying with the bristles in her palm.

Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward, opened her mouth, and let the brush handle enter.


It was too late.

Blair had allowed the brush to go in and back, back to her throat.

The pomme pie and remains of her lunch surged upwards.

Chuck put his arms around her waist and tried to pull her away

“What do toi think you’re doing?”

He knew what she was doing.

How it had happened.

The tears had begun to slip down her cheeks when she couldn’t answer.

Without warning. Blair felt her stomach clench, and Chuck had to let go of her.

He touched her only once, to pull her hair back from her face.

Then he dropped his hands in disgust.

She was sick again.

“Is this what happened earlier?”

Blair didn’t even look up.

“Of course it is.” He answered his own question.

Her hair had slipped back over her shoulders, framing her face; the wide, bright eyes and cheeks flushed with shame.

He couldn’t take his eyes away.

Blair Waldorf.


“Your best friend and your boyfriend are downstairs,” He a dit slowly. “They were worried after toi were sick earlier.”

He smirked for a second, his eyes losing focus for that brief moment.

“They had no idea.”

Blair tried to stand up, tried to explain, but Chuck didn’t even look like he wanted to hear it.

He was on his way to the door, to the stairs, down to the hallway where Nate and Serena remained oblivious.

To what was happening, what Blair was doing.

It couldn’t continue.



He was mad at her.

She had to stop him.


To be continued…