A/N: Okay, I really should be updating one of my multi-chaptered CB stories, but this idea hit me…and I figure I should get it out before the episode comes out on Monday (in like TWO days) and I’m completely wrong by what happens.
This story is TWO-PARTS. It’s EXTREMELY spoiler based….at some point in 2x13 Blair runs out to Chuck by his limo (since he’s departing for Europe or some place either out of state or out of country because of the guilt-ridden and overwhelming events surrounding Bart’s death) and she tries to convince him to stay…rumor is one of her methods MIGHT BE telling Chuck that she loves him. In this part 1, that is EXACTLY what she does.
Part 2 will be much later in time. (Not saying when I’ll update it….though it will probably be sometime later this next week) And it is Chuck responding to what Blair said in Part 1…after he’s pretty much recovered from the grieving process.
And so…here is part 1. ENJOY!!!!!!! =DDDDDD And please review. ;p
There it was. Sleek. Black. Flawless. The same limo she’d seen time and time again, for reasons mostly scandalous in nature. This time it was different. Because this time it was packed with suitcases, and the boy she’d grown to love was disappearing into it, never to return again. Not the same, anyways. This was what she feared.
“Chuck!” she screamed, running towards it as the wheels of the limo began to spin into the road. “Stop, wait! Don’t go!”
The back right door opened slowly. He always sat on that side. Always came out from the right.
And he stepped out in a rush, furious at what had caused the delay in his departure.
She slowed to a walk as he approached her, taking only a few steps in her direction. Any one else would’ve been horrified at what he had become over the last few days. Unkempt. Disastrous. An emotional mess. And thinking only of revenge and self-destruction.
She gulped. She knew she had to stop him. KNEW she couldn’t let him run away from all of this, fall into the intoxication of women, drugs and alchohol. He had become accustomed to it, but there was no doubt he would fill his system beyond the brink if only to rid himself of these memories. And THAT would kill him. She was sure of it.
But the knowledge of this was not enough to save him. To stop him from doing what he would probably be unaware of at the start. She had prepared nothing. Blair Waldorf never went anywhere, never did anything without a plan, a SURE-FIRE plan. And several back-up plans if need me. But Chuck rendered useless, pulling away from her at the funeral, refusing to look her in the eye, screaming at Serena, at Lily. Stopping at nothing to destroy any who could have caused stress in the life of Bart Bass, and that included himself.
“Wait, please!” she sounded desperate.
He had said nothing once outside of the sleek car. He just stared at her. Furious. Angry. Empty. He looked away from her as she begged continuously, her voice breaking more by the moment, afraid she would destroy him completely by anything that she uttered, however quiet or broken it appeared.
She evoked emotion out of him, and he knew it. She brought out a softer side. She made him realize his love not only for her, but for any human being. He no longer wanted to believe he was capable of such an emotion, or that anyone could now feel that for him.
He destroyed Lily. Socially. And where did she run? The god-forsaken Humphreys. They crumbled, socially dejected. And Serena had deserted him for good, he was sure of it. He wanted to believe in that possibility. He wanted, needed to be sure that the only thing there for him was alchohol, drugs, and the bodies of women he would never remember.
Nate. He had been with him at the funeral, but he had said nothing. Only dragged him along to the grave site, with Blair pulling the majority of the young Bass’s weight on her own. It was Blair. It was her this whole time that refused to let him go, refused to let him sink into the depression and numbness he so desperately seeked. And she was always by his side, even when he pushed her away. She would only leave him momentarily, when she felt he needed the space. But the moment he looked up, or resumed his fury-driven motives….she was there. Always.
And here she was again. Holding on, if by nothing else…by her heart, though he refused to believe it. He had to leave. Had to get away from this…love.
“Why are you here, Blair?” he asked, still avoiding her gaze, as he took a final bag he had held onto and threw it into the back seat of the car. He was bitter, anyone could tell, but at least he had the common sense to look his only undoing in the eyes.
She looked down and sighed. “I…I came for you, Chuck.”
Her voice was so little. So unsure of itself. She stepped closer.
“Well, I’m leaving….or haven’t you heard?” he said, smugly.
She looked up at him now. Couldn’t turn away. Not if her life depended on it.
“Don’t go Chuck,” she grabbed a hold of his arm at the elbow, and his gaze was forced upon hers.
“There’s no reason for me to stay here,” his voice was breaking. It would be the only emotion she would see for awhile. “My father’s dead. I’ve ruined Lily. No one cares for me. No one should.”
She tried to stop the tears from spilling. For his sake, if for no one else’s. But a few trickled down her cheeks, regardless of her draining will.
“Nate cares for you,” she forced out.
He scoffed. “Nate’s got his own problems to deal with,” he jerked his arm away and turned to look at the limo. He heard the engine. He was so close to leaving.
“You can’t blame yourself,” she squeaked, her voice rising.
He spun to face her, eyes aflame. “Shouldn’t I?! All my life I’ve disappointed my father, and for good reason. I was never a decent son, never a decent human being. You said so yourself!” He emphasized every word. He stepped slightly closer to her, though not for the reasons she would’ve hoped. His hair draped over the left side of his face, and he would’ve looked like a villain if not for the intense sadness hiding in his eyes.
Blair closed her eyes slowly, remembering for a moment when in a fury she had told him he wasn’t human…was less than Humphrey. Oh how past regrets do come back to haunt you.
“I didn’t mean it,” she whispered, her eyes returning to his broken face.
“Everybody means what they say, Waldorf. Most especially you,” he spat, turning away. Swearing to himself it would be for the last time.
“You can’t leave,” she cried out. She had stopped crying, but the moisture welling up in her eyes would make sure those tears would not be the last. Her shrieks were poison to his ears, but he forced himself to focus on the task at hand.
“I can leave, and I will. There is nothing for me here.”
She gasped. “I am here for you! I can help you through this! I need you to stay, I want you to, I—”
“I have no energy to deal with what you need or want anymore, Waldorf! I have no time to even deal with myself,” as he spoke his voice lowered, turning his head in her direction, but he wouldn’t look at her again. Not if he had the choice.
Besides, he had broken her heart too many times to be recalled. He would not have her tear stained face racing through his mind during his travels away from the city. If he never returned, that’s not how he wanted to remember her.
She gulped. Hardly believing this is really how it was going to end between them. If she didn’t grasp hold of him now, she never would. He would be lost from her forever, and she couldn’t imagine a life like that. A life without the Chuck she knew. It would hardly be a life worth living.
He was reached to open the door and slide inside again, completely assured that he’d concluded the conversation with the girl that wouldn’t let go. The girl that had stolen his heart-a heart he no longer desired to be in possession of. And as far as him claiming hers, well…it was fluttering in the breeze along with his unkempt hair. He was willing to let it go. To not feel. He wanted that more than anything now.
“Stay, please,” she whispered. And it made him stop. He had said those words before.
He had said them to Vanessa. And she had stayed. And he had been grateful. Grateful that some unknowing Brooklynite who knew next to nothing about the real Chuck Bass, had honored his request. Surely he could give Blair the same decency…
He turned around slowly. Turned to face her. He swore he wouldn’t. Swore he couldn’t face those tears on her face. But what he saw was not tears. They were welled up in her eyes, but no more had fallen. Not that he could tell. And he could ALWAYS tell EVERYTHING about her.
There was no pride. No overly stroked ego, or determined bitchiness. There was…compassion, concern, pity (an emotion he loated, and he would have sped away in that instant because of it, if it had not been for that third emotion)….and the emotion of…
“Give me a reason,” he replied, in equal urgency to her whispers.
She exhaled, relieved that he was talking sensibly now, though she knew it would not last forever, not long at all even.
“The reasons you’ve given me so far are not enough.” He stepped towards her, and his voice became low and threatening. “So, give me a REASON worth considering.”
She blinked slowly, but never teared her eyes from his face.
“I need you to stay…”
He waited. Gulp.
He waited. Scared Anticipation.
His eyes widened. If she said what he was afraid to hear, now in the worst of all moments, when a dangerous fire raged inside him, one that could not be douced by a simple confession, she would never see him again. Would never have the CHANCE to take back those words, however deeply she had felt them, and whatever good intention she had meant.
He still waited. It was hard for her to say, and he didn’t want to lash out at her when the simple vocabulary was finally revealed.
“Blair,” he warned.
“I love you,” she exhaled, before he could interrupt her again. Her eyes widened at her own confession. She could of hardly expected this. She was scared of what would happen, hoped it had been enough. She had no plan. All she had was her heart. And now, she had left none of it for herself.
He stared at her. Took in her lips, her eyes, her pristine silky face decorated by angelic curls and a velvety night headband. She was beautiful.
He ignored her confession. He had to.
She stood and watched as he turned away from her for the last time, her face crumbling. He had said nothing, had acted like her words were nothing out of the ordinary. But her tears didn’t fall. She wouldn’t let them.
She stood and watched as the door slammed shut once more and the limo drove away slowly. Her tears didn’t fall. She couldn’t let them.
She stood and watched the vehicle, watched the license plate, until both were no longer in existence. Her tears didn’t fall. She shouldn’t let them. Not again. Never again.
She stood, and waited, and watched for him to return. He never did.
On her face.
She slipped the glove off of her right hand, and brought her small fingertips to touch her cheek. She caught the tears. More fell. Uncontrollably it seemed.
He was gone.
He was really gone.
Her plan had failed.
She had had no plan.
No real plan.
She had only given her heart.
All that she had.
Now she had nothing.
Now, they were both empty.
A/N: Hope you liked it! Please review! I’ll put up Part Two soon. =) Not sure if this part was really that good…maybe your reviews will convince me otherwise. ;)