A/N: So this is the 'sequal' to In My Heart. However, you don't need to read the first one to understand this one. I'd love a beta reader so if your interested, PM me. I'm not sure how all that works so if you could explain it, that would be great! Also I apologize for my other unfinished fic. I just wasn't so into the story but I do intend on finishing it. It's already planned out, so it will be finished. Enjoy.

Chapter 1: Two Years Earlier


When I was little, maybe nine or ten, I watched my parents argue for the very first time. They were throwing out words that I had never heard before and wouldn't hear again until high school. I remember sitting at the kitchen table, eating my milk soaked cheerios, wondering exactly what was wrong. None of my friends at school ever mentioned that their parents argued and so I was sure that my family was unique, but not in a good way. Daddy left for four days, leaving my mother locked in her room, crying to herself. And then he came back, with a tan and a tattoo of a snake on the back of his right shoulder. And then after that, my parents pretended that those four days had never happened and everything went back to normal. To this day, I still have no idea what their argument had been about. I just remember wondering why it had been so easy for them to forgive each other. I like to believe that it was their love for each other that allowed them survive that fight.

Yet, five years later, Daddy decided to leave my mother. It seemed out of the blue, really. One day, he was whispering 'I love you' in her ear and the next, he packed his bags and booked two plane tickets to France. This time, there was no fight and no screaming. Daddy left my mother a goodbye letter, explaining everything in excruciating detail. Never in his life had he expected or planned for something like this to happen. He still loved her and me but it wasn't the same anymore. Roman, his lover, made him feel like a new man. This was his choice and though it had not been easy, he knew that it was for the best. And so, through my observations of my parents marriage, I realized one last thing. My mother had married her best friend. That was what Daddy was to her. That was why forgiveness came so easily between the two of them. She knew that things would eventually work out anyway. Forgiveness comes the easiest between two very different relationships. Soul mates and best friends.


The sun was setting, and I was alone. My eyes flickered around as I tried to remember what I was looking for. Around me, the streets of Manhattan were empty, except for the occasional yellow taxi that zoomed by. "Dylan?" I called out for my son. How old was he again? Three...four? I couldn't really remember "Honey, come on, it's not safe out here."

My heart began beating faster as I picked up speed. I had no shoes on; I realized as I looked down at my feet. The cement was wet and cold beneath my pink toes, sending a stinging pain up my legs. I froze when I realized someone was behind me. They were whispering something and I had to stop walking to make out the words "You have to find him, Blair. He is your only hope." I knew the voice, and yet the person's face was fuzzy in my mind "I love you, Blair, but you have to let me go. Save him, Blair, before it's too late."

The scenery in front of me changed, and all of a sudden, I was outside of New York, standing beside a train track. As I looked down at the tracks, to my horror, I saw my young son lying there. He wasn't four, he was only a baby. Wrapped up in a light blue blanket, his hands were sticking out, grasping at the air. In the distance, I could hear the air horn from the train screaming as it came closer. I moved forward, trying to grab my baby before it was too late.

And then it all happened very quickly. Someone grabbed my arms from behind, pulling me away "No!" I screamed, my eyes following the train as it picked up speed, coming straight for Dylan. I turned around and realized who was pulling me back. Chuck. His dark eyes seemed to stay concentrated on me, instead of our son.

"Chuck, let go! I have to save him before it's too late!" I tried to get away from him but his hands just held on tighter. I swallowed and tried to scream again but nothing came out.

"It's not him, Blair, it's me. You have to save me, Blair. You're letting me go and you don't even seem to notice." The sound of the train disappeared and all of the sudden, everything went dark around me.

He spoke again, pulling me out of my dream "It's me, Blair."

I opened my eyes and realized that Chuck was sitting beside me, smoothing his rough hand over the side of my face. He smiled, relieved, and kissed me on the forehead. Something was different about him...older, more mature. "You slipped in the shower and hit your head. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I think." I said, beginning to feel the throbbing pain at the back of my head. I tried to smile as I lifted my head and felt, with my hand, the goose egg that had formed "Damn, how did I do that?"

"You tell me." Chuck snickered, helping me sit up "I heard a scream and a thud. I know you told me not to interrupt when you're taking a shower but I couldn't help it." His smile made me blush. Was he still talking about my fall?

I nodded and looked around, noticing how different our bedroom was. Our bed, which Chuck had layed me down on, was facing away from the window, and there was a flat screen on the wall in front of me. We never had a television in our bedroom. This was still my room, I was sure of it, but someone had changed everything.

I thought back to my dream, for a moment, forgetting the strangeness of my surroundings "Is Dylan okay?" I asked, wondering what had happened after I woke up.

Chuck's face went blank and I could see the confusion mixed with pain in his eyes. He mumbled something under his breath, keeping his eyes on me. I watched as he pulled out a thin black cell phone from his back pocket and began dialing "Maybe I should take you to see the doctor."

I glanced around again and noticed that our family portrait, which usually sat on my nightstand, was missing. I leaned over and touched the dark wood where it usually sat and winced. There was something I was missing. Something had happened. Tears were welling up in my eyes and I wasn't even sure why.

"Yes, hello, Doctor. Blair fell. Yes, I know." Chuck nodded, looking up at me occasionally, clearly worried. His warm fingers brushed away the tears that were dripping from my eyes "No, it's just that she doesn't seem to remember what happened. Yes, exactly. Okay" He pulled the phone away from his ear and placed it back into his pocket.

"Chuck, what is going on? Why is everything so different? What did you do with the picture on my nightstand?" I had too many questions and I couldn't seem to get them all out fast enough..

"Blair, I'm taking you to see your doctor. I think you hit your head harder than I thought." He put his arms behind me and lifted me up from the bed. I grabbed him around the neck, holding on as he moved me. I felt fine, except for the occasional pulsing sensation from the back of my head.

"Chuck, relax, I'm not dying. I just hit my head. It'll heal." I said as he stood me back on the floor, running to my closet and pulling out a thin cotton shirt and a pair of black shorts. I was instantly worried about what type of shoes he would pick to go with these and so I yelled out some help "The black flats in the back." He continued to search through my large collection, ignoring my help. After a few minutes, he pulled out a pair of white flip-flops that were clearly not mine. I'd kill myself before I wore those. "I won't wear them." I spit out, hoping that I could somehow convince him to listen to me and give me my shoes.

He looked up and kinked his eyebrow "Fine, barefoot it is then." He put the clothes on my bed and left the room, closing the door behind him. I walked into my closet and pulled out the black flats. Men, I sighed. They never listen.

I dressed quickly, feeling the clothes fit snug across my hips and stomach. I heard two knocks on the door and the he walked back inside. I wondered what his reason for leaving was. In the three years that we had been married, I had never once asked to be alone while I got dressed. Nor had I ever asked to be let alone while I showered...

He smiled and stuck out his hand for me to take. He pulled me by the arm out into the hallway. I looked to my left, glancing through the door at Dylan's room. I felt the edges of my mouth rise. Unlike my bedroom, his was still the way it had always been. Everything was perfect, just like I had designed it. My eyes followed to the dark blue walls, the carved rosewood crib, and the hundreds of teddy bears in every corner. I laughed, thinking back to last week, when Chuck had come home with another one.

Chuck glanced over my shoulder, noticing how concentrated I was on Dylan's room. This seemed to upset him even more, and he began moving us faster down the long hallway.

"Wait," I said, trying to stop him from pulling me down the stairs after him. I yelled a little louder "Where is he? Chuck, where is he?"

Chuck sighed and shook his head "Damn it, Blair. Dylan is gone. Don't you remember?" I had no idea what he was talking about. He shook his head and I was sure that I could see tears in his eyes "How could you forget? He's gone, Blair. Dylan is gone."

"Gone where?" I began to panic, imagining big men dressed in black taking my baby away. That had always been one of my fears; losing my baby boy. I knew that people looked down upon teenage mothers, especially me. I had slept with two men. Chuck Bass and Nate Archibald. It was my mistake that turned them into enemies for over three years. Chuck could never get over the fact that Nate had loved me first and that I loved him too. Countless times, I had to prove to him that I was his, no matter how hard Nate tried to get me back. I had made my choice. I chose my son and his father over my first love. And so, the idea of child services taking Dylan away always sat at the back of my mind, eating away at me.

"He's dead, Blair." Chuck hissed, not even noticing how I stumbled down the stairs behind him. I was suddenly unaware of my legs. Those words just continued repeating in my mind. It seemed that my head was the least of my worries. I was going to show up at the hospital with bruises all over my body. I slapped him on the back of his head, feeling the tears in my eyes speed up their pace.

"What the hell, Chuck? Why would you say that?" And then I saw the living room. The furniture has been changed, from our usual big caramel colored suede couches to smaller, harder black leather ones. The walls were painted a light green and there were thick, black curtains hanging from the windows. All of Dylan's toys that were usually scattered across the hardwood floor were also gone. It reminded me of a show home, where everything was placed just right, and no one used anything.

"I'm saying that because it's true, Blair." He said pulled me into the elevator, only glancing at me occasionally.

I wondered what happened to the caring Chuck back in our bedroom. The one who dried away me tears and kissed me on the forehead. This Chuck, standing stiffly beside me, was clearly pissed. I looked down at his hand, the one that wasn't holding onto my hand and noticed how it clenched and relaxed repeatedly.

When we showed up at the hospital, the nurse behind the desk looked sympathetically between the two of us. Chuck passed her a folded white piece of paper and pointed toward the doors leading to the waiting room "He's expecting us."

She read through the note and nodded "Yes, of course. He'll see you right away." With that, she lead the two of us through the doors, passing all of the waiting people. She left us alone in a small room with two chairs and a hospital bed. Chuck made me sit on the bed while he took the chair farthest away from me. "He's dead, Blair."

After a few minutes, the doctor appeared at the door "Ms. Bass. It's so nice to see you again." He smiled and stuck out his hand for me to shake.

"It's so nice to meet you." I shook his hand and smiled back. He reminded me of my father, aged and caring. I watched as something in his eyes changed. He was considering my answer.

"Yes, of course." He said matter-of-factly and smiled at Chuck. I felt even more in the dark. Chuck's words were circling my mind and I had to force them back, trying to stay calm.

"See what I mean?" Chuck sighed, motioning to me "I think she's forgotten the past five years completely."

The doctor nodded, his eyes moving back to me "Tell me, Ms. Bass, what is the last thing you remember?"

I sighed and began to talk about what I did yesterday. I told them, even though Chuck knew the story, about how I dropped Dylan off with my mother, and went shopping with Serena. I skipped over my argument with her over my eating habits. I already knew what he would say. It's not healthy, Blair. You've got to eat. Then I told them about how Serena and I went shopping at Bergdorf's. I watched as the two men exchanged a look and nodded.

"Alright, Ms. Bass, I believe I know what is going on. We will still have to take you for some tests.."

"What?" I frowned and straightened up, looking from the doctor to Chuck. They both seemed calm enough, as if none of this was out of the ordinary.

For the next fifteen minutes, the doctor went through what he believed had happened to me. I knew the word before he said it out loud. Amnesia. I had slipped, and hit my head just a little too hard. It had caused my brain to lose track of things leading up to the accident. There was no way of telling how long it would last. It could be days, or weeks, or months. He also said that some people never regain all of their memories. They lose a part of their life, so to speak, and it's gone for good. He also assured me that because the trauma to my brain was mild; my chances of regaining all of my memories were quite high. Was that a good thing? I wasn't sure as I thought back to Chuck's words in the apartment. My baby boy…"How could you forget? He's gone, Blair. Dylan is gone."