The Black Hearted
Hyacinth lightning virgin
Breathing in your ear
She says you've gone and hurt her
Turned her pure-white body clear
He hadn't meant to hurt her, he'd never meant to hurt her. He hadn't thought it would have had such an effect on her. Everything, everything that had ever happened to him, that he'd ever done, somewhere in the back of the mind he was thinking of her. He was thinking of how she couldn't be with someone pathetic, someone weak...she needed a prince, a golden prince, a fair prince. He couldn't be fair, and he couldn't be golden, but he could be a prince, maybe a king, a ruler of an empire. He was going to give her the world, give her the stars, give her the very universe itself, it was all for her...
He told himself that but he knew it wasn't true, and oh wasn't he always one for the truth. When he looked in the mirror he didn't see a king, a ruler of an empire, he merely saw a scared little boy who didn't know how to love and would never be loved in return. The weak, pathetic little boy his father always thought he was. The disturbed, twisted irreparable soul everyone saw him as.
The funny thing was Blair was the only one who didn't see the true him, what she saw was the person he wished to be deep down inside, but it wasn't him, it had never been him. And no matter how much he'd tried for her, he just couldn't be that King, that dark knight who rode with her, his Queen, behind him. So he did the best thing he could do for her he supposed, he showed her how truly twisted up he was inside. And like he knew she would, she turned in disgust at what she saw, just like everyone eventually did.
He knew he should have done it sooner, instead of pretending, playing house, playing boyfriend, playing loving, caring, supportive. Becuase he knew deep inside he'd left his mark on her, he'd taken her last vestige of innocence (because oh no matter how much she had tried to pretend she was ice cold inside she wasn't really, because she still had the ability to believe in fairytales). He had taken everything from her, and left her soul muddied and confused. She was still the snow queen, but among all that white there was a streak of black, and he had don that to her. He was the destroyer, and now she knew that like everyone else, it had only taken her longer to figure it out. And sometimes (always) he wished she never had.
And he couldn't let her go, he could never let her go, because despite knowing all he ever could do was hurt her, she was his and he was hers. And among his twisted love for her, he wanted her to hurt along with him, every step of the way.
Shiver through the open window
The streetcars rumble by
You long for your winter lady
Not this stranger by your side
He doesn't know how he ended up here, with Jenny Humphrey of all people sitting beside him and drinking, while the city lights sped by way down below. He'd taken other things, taken a lot of things that night, more then he could keep track of, more then he probably ought, and more then this jaded (what she believed she was anyway) little girl had even glimpsed at. But somehow he'd always ha d a knack for waking up in the morning with nothing worse than a hangover and a loss of some brain cells he never used anyway. And most of the time he really wished that wasn't one of his talents.
She's talking but he's not really listening, because she isn't who he wants to be with right now, and she's not who he wants to listen to right now, and pour his heart out too, and find comfort in. He's thinking of Blair, Blair who he just gave an ultimatum to. It's laughable to think, him giving her any sort of ultimatum after what he'd done. But they're inevitable, he needs her, and this is the only way he knows how to tell her. And the worst thing is knowing that even if she doesn't show up his heart won't close to her, he can't close it to her no matter how much he tries. And that scares him, because he's completely at her power, and she screwed everything up (she screwed up him) because he can't go back to just being Chuck Bass depraved prince. He's tried so hard and he just can't, and if he can't be with her and he can't be Chuck Bass then what can he be? Nothing, alone, just like he always knew he'd end up being.
Finally little Jenny Humphrey says the words that break through his haze of booze and drugs and thoughts that circle and never end.
"I don't want to be alone." Her voice breaks slightly at this, but he's not paying attention to that either, just the words echoing in his head. The problem for him isn't being alone, it's being alone without Blair.
And the words slip out, without him even realising he's said them.
"Neither do I," their soft and slurred and they're the truest things he's said since he's been with Blair. And he looks at little Jenny Humphrey from Brooklyn (now Jenny Humphrey Constance Queen, drug dealer, resident screw up) and he has the sudden urge to laugh at the irony and the sadness of it all.
And suddenly she leans forwards and her lips touch his and he definitely know this isn't a good idea, and even if it was this isn't what he wants, he doesn't want her. She is just a silly little girl, lost like him a silly little boy. She has no way to help him find his way back. He wants her, he need's her, his ice queen, not this girl dragging him back into the rabbit hole she'd helped drag him out of.
But she's insistent and pressing, and he's drunk, and he's not thinking straight. And his eyes are closed and suddenly he's kissing Blair, and holding Blair's hair, and she's dragging him towards his bedroom, And he doesn't question how she got there or how she's forgiven him, because she's Blair and he's Chuck and she's the only thing that makes him feel like he's not alone. And everything is hazy, and he doesn't mind at all, because he's not alone, not with Blair Waldorf by his side.
She of the bloom and frost
Of cucumber and olive oil
She of the spring I've lost
To the song of the nightingale
Jenny didn't know a lot of things. She didn't know why she chose to go to Chuck Bass of all people with her problems. She didn't know what made him not turn her away as soon as she landed on his doorstep. She didn't know why she kissed him, Chuck Bass, the nefarious depraved debaucher' who she despised with her all being just a short (very long) year ago. She didn't know how she had even gotten to the point where she had no idea where Jenny Humphrey from Brooklyn ended and the Queen of Constance Billiard began. She just knew she wanted to get lost, and Chuck was the best person to teach her how.
It was awkward kissing him, for one thing the smell of scotch was heavy on him, so heavy it suffocated her. For a second he was too heavy, not at all light or dexterous, he was clumsy and hesitant and he didn't seem to really know what he was doing. She knew for a fact he didn't know, she'd seen the half empty packets on the table, the many empty bottles. Chuck was probably the most disturbed person she knew, more disturbed and troubled then she was right then. And that's why she wanted him right then, she needed to do it, sink to her lowest so she could raise herself up again. Rebirth through fire, that was the idea at least, that was the lie she told herself...
The truth was she couldn't see a way up only a way down, and so she headed that way full tilt, in the hope that it would end it all, and she would finally reach the point where she stopped caring so much about the all the things she had lost, the blessed point of indifference, where she was so far lost she didn't even remember which way was up anymore. She wanted that relief, she needed that relief. So she grabbed Chuck's hand and pulled him towards his room, and he stumbled after her obediently, and she heard him mutter Blair's name a lot but that was all right, she didn't need him to be with her just then, just everything he represented. She kept on telling herself she didn't care as she helped him unbutton his shirt and he kept on saying her name, she knew she was lying to herself.
She pressed him, kissing him harder and he gripped onto her hair. And then just as she was on the praecipe, the brink, the point of no return, he pulled away from her.
"Wait," he whispered holding her back, and for a moment she thinks he knows who she is because his voice is so clear.
"I'm so sorry Blair," he muttered, looking up at her with half closed eyes, and there was some disappointment in her, because like everyone, he didn't recognise her, and he didn't care about her, it was always someone else.
"I forgive you," she whispers, trying to ignore the tightness of her throat. She just wants to get this over, why did he have to be so stupid? She leant closer, to begin the uncomfortable kissing again, when he says it, those three words, eight letters.
"I love you," his voice is slurred and hoarse and oh so sincere, "I love you, always have always will."
She pauses at this, her breath hitches in her throat. His voice is raw and he looks oh so real as he looks up at her, though his eyes were glazed and he had a feverish look. And she understands that was what it meant to be loved, utterly, completely. And suddenly in that moment she wishes she had that sort of love, even more then she wished for her old life back, or to be lost.
"I love you too," she says in response, as he still holds her back, and her voice breaks slightly as she says it, because she wishes his words were meant for her and hers for him.
He smiles slightly then, a relieved smile, and he pulls her closer, his lips on hers, tender now and bittersweet. But it's her who pauses this time.
"What's wrong?" he mutters, looking at her with confusion, his words barely coherent.
She doesn't answer him, just moves slightly away and goes to sit on the other side of the bed, though he keeps a firm grip on her hand. She needs time to think, she doesn't want to think though she just wants to do. She tells herself to go closer to him, start kissing him again, get the stupid thing over with, grow up! But she doesn't, she just sits on the other side of the bed, holding Chuck Bass' hand and looking at the clock on his bedside table. She can't go through with this, she just can't. She's just a lost little girl, and she just wanted someone to understand her, to help her.
"Chuck," she finally says, turning to look back at him, to pour her heart out to him, even if he was drunk and thought she was Blair, he was better than no one, he understood. But she was too late, his eyes were already closed, his grip lax, she hadn't even noticed. His chest rose and fell and it was at that point that Jenny Humphrey allowed the tears she'd been holding back to fall, because there was no one interested in finding her, no one left who cared.
The morning air does compel you
To float down the spiral stairs
Spanish-blue stockings yawning
And the ashes in the air
He wakes up and last night is completely blank. His clock reads seven thirty, well after the time he was supposed to meet Blair on the Empire State building. But she was here, with him just like she was supposed to be. And he turns his head languidly, a small smile playing on his lips and he sees her. Her blonde head, her thin body curled up under the rich blue covers, holding tight to a pillow as if it's a life line, a rope to bring her back. Not Blair, not even close. And suddenly the beginning of the night come rushing back, the kissing the words..."I don't want to be alone". And he feels like he's going to be sick.
He quickly gets up and grabs a shirt and slips it on and he doesn't know what to do, what is he supposed to do? He didn't mean...he thought she was...he didn't understand. And he really wishes he could vanish back to his haze. And his head is pounding and he can't think straight. And he hate's himself then, more than he ever has, more than he ever thought he could. Because all he can think of is Blair waiting up that tower, by herself, and how he's screwed everything up. And unconsciously he's pacing, clutching his hair, wanting to grab something and throw it, wanting to run and never stop, wanting to rip himself apart, hurt himself, make this not real, a dream, a lie...a mistake... His whole world has crumbled and he's looking down at the blonde ashes lying on his bed, the remnants of what was.
He doesn't notice when her eyes flicker open, he's not thinking of her (he knows it's not right, to ignore the silly little girl on the bed, but whoever said he was good or right or decent?) She watches him for a while, his pacing, the way he clutches his hair, the way his face twisted in disgust and hate. And she wonders distantly whether he's going to cry, whether everything that's been building up since he was ten and realised that his father would never see anything then pathetic mistake, would come pouring out in salty water. Finally she decides to put him out of his misery. She hesitates before she does, because she wishes that he was hurting for real, hurting like she was inside. But some remnants of little Jenny Humphrey from Brooklyn still existed, and despite how they first met, he was the only one that was still looked at her and had some kind of idea who the hell she was, and what the hell was happening to her. And he was the only one who was down that rabbit hole right allong with her (had been, still was) so she threw a line back to him.
"Nothing happened," her voice comes out hoarse and tired, oh so very tired, and his brown eyes snap to her smudged blue ones, that are far too dark.
"What do you mean?" he asks, and she feels bitter at how hopeful he sounds.
"I mean nothing happened, you fell asleep before we could... you know...do anything, so you can stop worrying." It comes out harsh and bitter, she doesn't know why it does. She should be glad, it would have been a mistake, the biggest mistake of her life. Imagine, this milestone happening when she was drunk...with Chuck Bass of all people...But somewhere deep inside she saw how much Chuck loved Blair, and she wished that she could have some sort of devotion like that. She wished she could have someone who would go to any lengths for her, who would change only for her, even if it was only pretend for a night. Even if both their I love you's were meant for someone else.
"I wouldn't look so relieved if I were you," her voice is snarky now, she sits up, grabs her boots which she dumped beside his bed. And he sees she's fully clothed and there's even more relief on his face and she thinks she hates him.
"I mean really Chuck saying I'm sorry? I love you? Tell me did you always used to say that sort of stuff, or only after Blair made you her whipped lap dog? You know what, I'm actually really glad nothing happened, because it if the beginning was anything to go by, it would have just been so pathetic." She adds that extra barb in, and it's not the actual truth, but he deserved it. Right then she almost believed everyone deserved to hurt and be alone. He was no better than she was, he was worse, far worse. Then how come he could feel, he could care, while she felt nothing for anyone anymore?
He registers her words, and his face grows hard as she knew it would, and she waits for him to say it, call her a whore, order her to get out. And the tears are threatening now, because she doesn't understand why she says these things. She doesn't understand why she hurts people like this, for stupid reason, sometimes for no reason at all. And she bows her head, tries to scrabble with her boots, concentrate on them, but the tears are beginning to fall. She keeps on thinking of what her father, what Dan, what Vanessa and Eric and everyone who had ever cared of her would think seeing her showing up at early hours of the morning from Chuck Bass' suite. And she wonders how the hell it had gotten to the point where she was jealous that he hadn't wanted her. How she actually felt upset that Chuck Bass hadn't even considered for a moment of using her and leaving her at least. She felt so pathetic, wanting to be wanted so badly she would take a one night stand and forget about her dreams of love.
Chuck doesn't say anything; he's speechless because looking at Jenny Humphrey is like looking into a dark mirror. It was like looking back to the past, when he gave up on everything, when he embraced the darkness completely because there was no one ever there to grab his hand and pull him out of that rabbit hole he disappeared into. And he didn't like it, didn't like seeing that. She was lucky, she hadn't gone in too deep, not yet, despite herself, and he envied her for that.
"I'll call my car to come around and drop you back home," he finally voices, there wasn't much else to say.
"No," she said quickly, wiping at her eyes furiously. "No I don't want my Dad to see...I'll just...I'll get a taxi okay."
Chuck couldn't argue with that, he sighed heavily and gingerly and against his better judgment he sat down next to her on the bed. They sat like that for a while, Jenny trying to get herself under control, to make the tears stop falling. And Chuck trying to understand how everything had come to him sitting beside Jenny Humphrey, trying to think of something comforting to say. He didn't have a caring bone in his body for anyone other than Blair, or at least that's what he had thought. But he supposes that people were full of surprises, even him. He guesses it's because, despite how laughable it was, she reminded him of a younger him. A Charles Bass on the brink of becoming Chuck Bass. And sometimes he wished someone had been there for him to pull him from the precipe.
"You should leave New York," he finally rested on saying, glancing at her. She still had her head down, her tangled hair covering her red rimmed eyes and her pink nose.
"But New York's all I have," she whispers.
He guesses that's true, for the both of them, but Chuck knew how to lie.
"No," he said, "It's not, it's just bringing you down. Take my advice Jenny, you stay here and you're never going to resurface...people drown here...people get lost...You'll always be alone in New York." Or maybe it wasn't a complete lie, not for the two of them at least.
She didn't reply to this, and he doesn't really follow up on it, to make sure she gets it, before she silently gets up and walks out that door without a backward glance. Because that's as far as he went with little Jenny Humphrey from Brooklyn, all he could do was warn her, offer her the life rope. And that was precisely where he stopped with her. It was more than he had ever gotten.
Well, the penitent man will be forgiven
But the black-hearted will rot
So oh golden king forgive me
For not being what I'm not
"How could you Chuck?" he should have known there would be a gossip girl blast, Jenny leaving his place in the early hours of the morning, dishelved, looking like she's had a wild night. Of course it would have been spotted, posted all over New York by now, reached Blair. He'd come to her place to talk with her, to explain everything, and met her just as she was leaving, leaving with a flash in her eyes and revenge in her thoughts.
"Blair, Jenny..." (and I did not do anything. It's just a misunderstanding.)
"Don't say her name," Blair snarls, cutting him off before he can finish. "Of all the things I imagined Chuck, I never thought that you would do this to me. Leave me standing there alone again, to be with someone else."
"Blair I..." he tries again. (I didn't do anything, I'm sorry. I love you.)
"Stop," she snaps, and her voice is icy cold now, hard and final. "Just stop. This is it Chuck. I just can't keep on doing this, waiting for you to change...And now I know you never will. Nothing you ever do or say can make this all right."
He doesn't know why the words don't come out, he could have easily out yelled her. Told her he didn't hadn't wouldn't have even considered...only thinking it was her...But that was immaterial because nothing had happened, not with little Jenny Humphrey. Because all he wanted, all he ever wanted, was her.
But he doesn't, he doesn't say a thing, and she takes his silence as surrender.
"I'm leaving for Paris tomorrow, and I don't want to hear from you ..." (ever again). She says it, and she means it and he can hear her voice wavers slightly, ever so slightly, but he still doesn't say a word. "Goodbye Chuck."
He just stands there and watches as she walks away, lost in the crowd of the New York streets.
He ends up in the Palace bar. He doesn't really know how he got there; he had just walked (laughable as it was, he hadn't felt like taking the limo.) And his feet had led him here, to his father's pride and joy, his childhood home, if he could even call it that. The bar tender glances at him, hesitating about whether he should hand over the glass of scotch (he's new there obviously). He hasn't been asked for ID since he was twelve and he first pulled out the 'I'm Chuck Bass' card. He had been surprised at how well it had worked back then. Now he just glared and the guy handed it over to him without a word.
He drinks it, savouring the taste, and he glances over at the tables where people sat, talking, or some sitting alone drinking like him. And that's when Nate and Serena come in; they look like they're having a heated argument, absorbed in one another as per usual. Nate tries to take Serena's hand but she pulls it away and then she turns her blonde head and walks out on her fashionably tall legs without a second thought. Chuck watches as she goes and observes Nate putting his hand to his head and rubbing it. Obviously it was a tough day for suitors all around New York.
Nate must have felt Chuck's gaze on him because he looks up and glances directly at him. Chuck raises his glass in mock condolence, waiting for his friend's response. Nate doesn't give a grin as usual, or head towards Chuck, ready to pore out his problems. Instead his jaw tightens, his eyes turn ice cold and Nate, his best friend, his only friend, looks at him from across the room, and his eyes reveal contempt and disgust. It's not the first time he's looked at Chuck that way, but it's probably the first time it's unjustified. And he wants to shout at them, shout at them all that what did they expect from Chuck Bass? What else could they ever expect? But he doesn't, he just looks at Nate, his oldest friend, the one who was supposed to be his right hand man. And then he gets up and leaves, without saying a word.
Eric doesn't say a thing, not at first. Chuck doesn't know how he ended up resting on the bonnet of his limo, in front of St Judes, waiting for him, but he's there He ignores the whispers and stares of all the little girls and boys with their scandalous looks and superior smiles. They were fools, all of them (but was he any better?) And Eric walks up, alone (because of course Jenny wouldn't be coming to school today of all days.). He has his backpack bumping against his back, full of books (an accessory Chuck had never adopted. And when he sees Chuck he doesn't say a thing, just comes to stand beside him, resting his back pack on the pavement.
They sit like there silent for a while, watching the students whispering and laughing.
"It's kind of sick you know," Eric says suddenly, and Chuck looks at him, ready for berating.
"Beside the age difference of course, which by the way is kind of disturbing" he says it with a smile, showing Chuck he's doesn't really think the worst of him. "I mean legally you're my brother, and Jenny's my sister. So technically you slept with your adopted step sister...If anything did happen."
"What makes you say that?" he asks, curious and feeling a slight lift in his spirits. Eric always knew how to add wry humour to any situation.
"I've known Jenny for far too long. And the one thing I've learnt is that rumours that surround her, especially about her virtue, not always true."
He doesn't say anything to this, and he tries to ignore the twinge he feels at the fact it wasn't his character Eric was doubting the rumours on, but Jenny's. He doesn't say this though. He doesn't say that nothing happens; he's not going to apologize for something he would have done if it weren't for the fact that one of them had been more sober then the other that night. He was Chuck Bass, this was what everyone expected of him. He wasn't going to apologize for the dark boy they had helped to create.
"For the record I only recognise two siblings," he says instead, it was his thanks for the fact Eric didn't shun him as soon as he saw him. "Besides Van Der Woodsen Humphrey Bass doesn't really have as nice a ring to it as Van der Woodsen Bass. I wouldn't want to smirch my family tree with Brooklyn trash. "
Eric shook his head and gave Chuck a small smile.
"Aren't you going to be late for class?" he comments as the bell rings.
"Who needs class when you have a limo and some seedy bars to go to?" Eric asks grinning at him. Chuck smirks and opens the door, motioning for Eric to get in.
"Well, well Eric, someone's turned into a rebel. Of course you did learn from the best," he noted sliding into the limo beside him.
"Are you kidding, I've been rebellious before I even knew who you were," Eric protests. "Did you know I actually broke Mum's vase and then blamed it on Klaus. I still reckon that's what broke them up."
Blair storms up to Jenny as she's wandering in the park, looking at the beauty of New York. Taking in the beauty of the only city she had known, the only thing she loved with all her heart, which she hadn't hurt. The only thing that didn't hate her right then. She was thinking of Chuck, and his advice, and as if like magic Blair appears.
"I can't believe you stooped this low" she hisses, stopping in front of Jenny, her eyes flashing, her demeanour cold. Jenny sees the mobile in her hand and her heart sinks, because she knows what that phone means. A gossip girl blast, a picture of her dishelved, red in the face, looking to all the world guilty for something she hadn't done for once. Jenny knows Blair means business and she feels like that little naive girl again, afraid of Blair Waldorf and social isolation. Now she knew there were worse things, but she was still afraid of Blair.
"What did you think would happen Jenny? You bag Chuck and suddenly you're better than me. You're just a pathetic little girl, a screw up. And because you're so pathetic I am going to grant you a final chance Jenny, before I destroy the remnants of your pathetic little life. I'm giving you the chance to leave and never, ever come back to my city again, or I will destroy you, or what little's left anyway."
Jenny looks at Blair, and she feels on the verge of tears yet again. She doesn't know why she doesn't deny it straight away, but she's so sick of fighting, with everyone, she's just so tired of this. So she does what she had been thinking of doing anyway, she finally surrenders.
"Okay Blair," she says softly, looking at the older girl. "There isn't anything left for me here anyway..."
Blair looks surprised at the easy surrender for a second, but she quickly covers it up with a cold satisfied smirk. And to show Jenny that she really was unimportant she immediately turns to leave, her business done.
"Blair," Jenny impulsively calls out, because she thinks that even though she may be irreparable, there was still hope for some things, maybe still hope for fairytales and love. She needs to believe that, because she needs to believe there's hope for her too.
She hesitates and Jenny can tell she's thinking of ignoring her and continuing on, but she pauses against her better judgment.
"What?" Blair snaps, turning to glare at Jenny.
"Just so you know...nothing happened between us... he doesn't want anyone but you..."
Blair looks at her, opens her mouth about to shoot Jenny down, tell her not to be pathetic and try and deny it to salvage her non-existent virtue. To scorn her mistaken belief that her lies would allow her to stay unscathed in Blair's city. But she doesn't, she closes her mouth and stands there staring. And it's Jenny who is the one to turn and walk away, her head bowed.
Is just an accident only you can bear
You're invisible and as wild as the sea
And you hurt what you hold most dear
You're the traitor, and you are me
It's a stupid dinner party, yet another stupid dinner party. He wouldn't have shown up at all, what was the point of drinking with people who hated him when he could drink alone, away from the glares, the whispers. But Lilly had invited him, called his suite, left a message, asked him to come. And she was probably the only person in New York right then who didn't know his dirty secrets, his twisted nature, his tired soul. She still saw him as the charming young man, who was hopeful of a family's love and welcomed her with little or no trouble and an amiable smirk.
He's standing in a corner drinking, by himself as usual. The faces blur past him and he doesn't pay attention. Serena passes by him giving him a disapproving look. Nate glances his way with judging eyes. Blair isn't there of course; she would guess he would come. And Eric is busy with his new boyfriend, Chuck didn't want to interrupt them. So he stands by himself in a corner, forever the outsider. And just as he's thinking he might make his excuses to Lilly and go back to his Empire he sees Dan, inappropriately dressed as always in jeans and a t-shirt. He had his sights on Chuck as soon as he entered the room, striding towards him with self righteous purpose, and Chuck put down his glass in expectation of what is to come.
"She's only sixteen years old, you jerk," Dan Humphrey snaps as he reaches Chuck and he punches him yet again. And it's like they've all come full circle again. Blair appears like magic from the entrance, rushing up to Chuck, concern on her face. Serena goes to stand behind Dan. Nate stands to the side, not knowing which side to take. The non judging breakfast club, that's what Blair had called them all those years ago. It's a title they had adopted the first time Serena had gotten drunk and the pattern had followed where they had helped clean her up the morning after, and all sat down to watch Breakfast at Tiffany's (because Blair had insisted). But when had they lost the non from their title and just become the judging breakfast club he wondered?
He stands there, the aftermath from the punch, watching as Humphrey turns his back to leave as abruptly as he had come. Everyone stares at them, whispers, glares as he wipes the blood on his lip. He must say it wasn't as bad as the first time. Dan probably wasn't as angry at him as he should be, because Chuck knew partly he was blaming Jenny, just as Blair partly blamed herself. He welcomes the pain, because he deserves it right? He's a jerk, the twisted lecherous jerk, who preyed on the innocent, who destroyed everything to make it as ugly as he was inside. Except this time he wasn't the jerk, this time he was blameless, and for some reason he couldn't let Dan walk away with that mistaken self righteous belief. He had let Blair believe, let Nate, let Serena, taken there admonishments, their glares, their judgment. But for some reason Dan Humphrey's self righteous look was one look too many, and for once in a long time Chuck Bass completely lost it.
"Hey Humphrey Dumpty," he yelled, and he grabbed him and jerked him around and his fist came up and he punched him with everything he had. He felt some satisfaction as Dan reeled slightly, he hadn't been expecting it, none of them had. Chuck wasn't that sort of fighter, Chuck didn't hit, he waited and he schemed and he took someone down completely and utterly destroyed them. But this time Chuck just wanted to punch, hurt, senseless physical violence, the kind that didn't leave lasting scars, that was senseless and forgotten eventually, the hurt that didn't come back to you ten fold. He was sick of scheming, sick of destroying, he just wanted everyone to see. And the words left his mouth before he could stop them. "Nothing happened between us you idiot."
They stare at him in shock, there's gasp from people in the crowd. Serena bends to help Dan as Nate looks on. And Chuck doesn't dare to look at Blair, he merely turns and instead of heading for the lift he heads for the stairs, up to the room that no longer exists for him there. He flings open the door, the room is practically bare of Jenny's things, it's not like Serena had given her much chance to move into it. No one had really touched it since Chuck left. There was still his pristine book case in the corner (the one he used to hide his pot). Some of his clothes still hung in the almost bare wardrobe (ones he'd outgrown). And the bed was made up with satin sheets, just how he liked it. It gave him some sort of comfort to think that at least this hadn't changed, or maybe it just made him feel sad. He goes to sit on the bed, and he puts his head in his hands (his lip is throbbing and he can taste blood), and he tries not to think.
She comes in after him (he knew she would, he hoped she would). She only hesitates at the door for a second before she comes to sit beside him on the bed, her dress rustling as she positions it just so. They sit for a while like that, frozen, perfectly quiet; the only sound is their breath going in and out.
"Are you hurt?" she finally asks quietly, breaking the silence.
It's at that point he looks up at her, really looks at her, Blair by his side once more. And his look isn't triumphant, or smug, it's filled with conflict and longing which over rode everything, which made him afraid, though he'd been trying to hid that from her since he'd first felt it. He notices she looks as tired as she feels, and he can almost see what she'd look like, as an adult, responsible, mature, compromising and settling for love of him...
"You didn't even doubt it for a second," he says, and his voice is quiet as he says it, he's merely stating a fact, not fighting or arguing. He sounds hollow to himself, because every fibre of his being is telling him not to do this, to just take her back and not question a thing. But the thing he'd learnt to care about more than his own wants was Blair's happiness, and he knew right then he couldn't make her happy.
"I...I..." she tries to deny it but she's left speechless on that point, because she didn't doubt the countless ways he could hurt her, not now. "You said that our love was never going to be safe," she turns the question on him.
He could take the easy way out, he should take the easy way out, more then anything he wanted to. His heart was screaming at him to do it, just concede and take her in his arms and kiss her, be the hero for once, play the hero, and ignore the reality of the situation. But he was never one to shy away from truth, and now it was time to face his own.
"I lied," the words come out of his mouth and as soon as he says them he wishes he can take them back. Her betrayed eyes scream at him traitor, but there was no stopping now. "You know that it shouldn't be this hard Blair, not even for us...I don't want to hurt you anymore..."
"Then don't," she challenges, "You've fought for me this long, I'm sick of fighting Chuck. I'm yours. Always have been and always will be. Neither of us can deny it anymore, we're better people around each other, far better than when we're separate."
"No, I'm better around you," he stipulates, "But even then... I take from people Blair, I take and I destroy. Without even touching her I managed to destroy the last vestiges of Jenny's virtue...I'm a traitor, I betray people without even trying. I've never lied about who I am, I know who I am. But do you?"
"Don't be ridiculous, of course I know, I'm Blair Waldorf," she answers him, using her no nonsense tone now, lifting her chin stubbornly.
"You haven't been alone since we were in fourth grade and you thought Nathanial Archibald was your most suitable future husband." Chuck pointed out wryly with slight bitterness. "Beyond being Upper East Royalty with a penchant for fairytales you have no idea who you are or what you really want. And I think maybe it's best if I give you some time to figure that out."
"What are you saying? That you think we should have time apart?" Her voice is falling now, and she's looking at him in shock. "Is this some misguided attempt at a game Chuck?"
He exhales heavily, holding his aching head. "Look Blair, as much as this is against my very nature, I'm trying to be the adult here. For once in my life, and against my better judgment, I'm trying to do the right thing. Don't make this harder than it is."
"Spare me Bass, you're no self sacrificing knight," she snaps, "You want me, I know you do. Are you just going to let me go like that on ridiculous false pretences about allowing me to get to know myself?"
He doesn't answer her, just looks up and she can tell that he's serious. That's all it took between them, one look.
"You can't pretend that you know what's best for me," she rages now. "How dare you, you don't know anything..."
"I know that I drink in the dark, I make deals with the devil and my way to test someone's love is to play games with them where we both lose. That's not right Blair."
"Whoever said we have to be right?" she just wouldn't give up, turning his words against him, "We're both damaged Chuck, we both knew that. That's why we're good together, we understand each other."
"You..both of us need some time to sort ourselves out. We need to find out who we are Blair, as clichéd as that sounds. That doesn't mean I won't be waiting," he added, trying to convey his sincerity, trying to convey that this wasn't the end, but it needed to be done, one of them needed to do it. "I'll be waiting Blair, but only after you've had time to consider if this, if I am, really what you want."
"Chuck," she only says his name, but he knew if he stayed he would break. He couldn't stand and watch her fall once again. He needed to do this, he didn't know if it was right, but he knew for once he was doing something completely for someone else, and that had to be enough. So he got up from his old bed and he turned away from her still form, towards the door.
"But I only want you," she whispers it, and it's like a final plea. "I love you." He pauses, and he wants to turn back, but he thinks of how he'd almost betrayed her with Jenny, without even knowing. How he'd sold her out to his own uncle, how he'd hurt her countless times, and he resolves himself.
"I love you too, always have and always will," no matter how many times he says it it's always an effort, and it always gives him the feeling of free falling. But this time he just feels sad. "I'll be waiting for you, when you get back from Paris..." and without looking back he opened the door and walked out, leaving her behind.
The captain says he won't answer
From his throne of light and pearls
Your grotesque, shrouded body
That you loathe and you love
She gets to her apartment and ignores Dorota's questioning look running up to her room. The tears are coming now, she can feel them, and she flings open her closet and grabs dresses, tops, skirts, anything, everything, ripping them off the hangers and throwing them on her bed. She feels wild, crazy, and she can feel the need rising up in her, to go to the bathroom and worship that porcelain god.
She hesitates though, because she doesn't want to be that girl anymore, she's so sick of being that girl. And she knew something was different this time with Chuck, despite herself, she knew he wasn't doing this because he wanted to play a game, wanted to play with her. He was serious about letting her work her problems out, letting her find herself, and that frightened her, because she didn't know how to be alone.
Despite herself, and before she realises, she grabs the phone off her dresser. And her finger presses that button (he's on her speed dial, has been since she can remember. It was funny even when she was dating Nate Chuck was always the one she turned to first when she needed an ally.) She listens as it rings, and rings, and rings. She can imagine him up there, in his fortress that was his suite, looking down at the streets below like he used to do sometimes when they were together and he couldn't sleep. He would probably be well into his scotch right now. And she knew he was listening to each ring just as she was, feeling each trill like a spear to his heart, just like her, exactly like her.
She waits for the last ring to die before she puts down the phone. There are no tears anymore. She heads for the bathroom, but she doesn't go in, she just stands in the doorway, looking at her mirror reflection. She'd always thought of herself as three entities. There was her father's Blair Bear, the girl who was perfect in every way, smiles and sweetness and fairytales all nicely wrapped with a bow on top, while inside there was a messy bundle of fears and self doubts. Then there was Blair Waldorf, Queen B. Of the Upper East Side, ruthless, backstabbing and in control. A polished veneer hiding darkness and endless insecurities. Finally there was Chuck's Blair, the one that had been created that night at Victrola, free, confident and in love, but something darker still hiding underneath, something which made her untrusting and desperate. A girl willing to give up everything, piece by piece, to ensure his love, until there was nothing left to give.
Blair knew she had two choices, she could go back to the self loathing mess filled with insecurities and selfishness and issues even she couldn't name. She could find a way to get Chuck back (it wouldn't be too hard) and she could rule like she always had, an ice queen glorified without and decimated within. Or she could look forward, to Paris, to maybe coming back to something new and different, and not tainted. Not boring no, still passionate, but no more hurting, no more games, no more insecurities which spill out into words and actions that once done can never be taken back.
And at that moment, looking at the dark shadow of herself in the mirror, Blair Waldorf made her choice. She closed the bathroom door, and turned to resume her packing, clinging to the hope of something more in Paris.
Oh Captain, you ask yourself
I miss her of the raven hair
What future did you behold
When you stole me away from there?
Chuck stands there perfectly still, nothing moving but his chest rising and falling, still hearing that last ring echoing in his ears. He was looking down at the city lights, but he wasn't really seeing them, he wasn't seeing anything. All he could feel was tightness in his chest, and his grip on the glass tightened until his fingers were white.
He'd done this, let Blair go (because he knew without a doubt she would not try to reach him again). He'd done this not because of his father, or his uncle, but because he'd made the decision all by himself. It was some sort of attempt to do the right thing by her
Chuck had always thought about himself in threes. First there was Charles Bass, his father's son, an ambitious boy desperate for respect (especially begot by fear) clawing his way up just for a hint of approval, a hint that he was worth something. Second there was Chuck Bass, the decadent youth, selfish, drowning himself in woman and booze until everything seemed as clear and simple as he wanted it to be. Thirdly and lastly there was Blair's Chuck, the one born from that night in the limo, the one who loved and desperately wanted to be loved in return, the one who would do anything, anything it took, to possess Blair wholly, even if that meant hurting her. And he had no idea how to reconcile these three. While working he'd begun to turn more and more into Charles, recently he'd tried to go back to Chuck Bass, but he never really could. And Blair's Chuck, he was always present, hurting her and himself in turn, all in the name of love. He had thought, when he'd let Blair go, that it would give him time to work things out, to find a new person, one who wouldn't be absorbed, or selfish, or hurt her. A good man underneath all of it.
And now he knew he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. He had just given up the last thing he had, and for what, a misguided attempt to be something he wasn't? A just person? A selfless person? A good man? It was laughable. There was no good man underneath all this, there was just him and all he wanted was her. And now it was too late and he was left...left with what? Wealth, an empire, a bottomless glass? All of it was nothing, an echoing future, endless days of being alone, with empty space, an empty heart, an empty soul.
Suddenly Chuck turned and he flung his glass against the wall as hard as he could, trying to rid himself of these feelings that had destroyed him from the inside out. The glass shattered and the wine spilt on the wall, seeping into the plaster, trickling down in rivulets, like blood. He watched it flow down, down, down.
As the stain settled he set smoothed his hair, straightened his tie and headed towards the bar to pour himself another drink. He would wait, like he promised Blair, and in the meantime he would try and find himself, just like he'd promised, in the bottom of every bottle he owned.
You're the traitor and I am thee.
A/N: Why Blair would go to Paris you ask? Obviously she goes there every year during the holidays to visit her Dad, or so I say!. I just couldn't be bothered explaining it in the story. I was tempted to write forever in Paris, sigh Anastasia what a wonderful movie.
I have no idea how this turned into this mammoth epic sized angst, drama, self loathing fest (though I am feeling a bit like that recently)...It was supposed to be my take on what happens in the season finale, because I refuse to believe Chuck would sleep with Jenny. It was supposed to be mainly about Chuck and Blair, and suddenly Jenny pops into it! What the? I don't even really like her character though sometimes I love to hate her?
It was supposed to have the epic happy ending that I wished it would, instead we get this angst ridden drama. I have no idea how, why, when or what, but my muse directed me and it just flowed. It may be worthy of being a bold in the beautiful episode, but hey take that up with my muse. Perhaps the name of the ep for the next season is what directed it this way, I don't know. And Chuck's obvious alchoholism (which I don't really want the show to change, cause it's so him, but maybe they should mention it). And I really wish they'd let Chuck show some passion by having a fight, it would be fun = )
Sea Wolf was a big inspiration The Traitor ( I put the verses out of order), a lot of their songs perfectly match Chuck's story it's scary! And I only discovered them through new moon, violet hour. Also I was thinking of that song New York I love you but you're bringing me down.
And for some reason I switched tenses from him to you halfway through the story then back again, but I fixed that up. I also wrote this before I saw ex husband and wives, so it may not be consistent. And I know it's very repetitive, but I did that on purpose because I'm trying out different styles. Sorry if it's completely OOC I tried my best in the short time I had = (.
All I know is I really hope no one other then Dorota is pregnant (because teen pregnancies ruin everything), Blair and Chuck get back together, Chuck does not sleep with Jenny and it's all just a misunderstanding, and Serena stops being so darn annoying (seriously she was not this bad in the first or second season, I liked her. Now she's becoming the next Jenny!). Can't wait for a partly Vanessa free season, hopefully Chuck can regain his season 1 hair, fashion sense and scarf and they can all start acting like teens again instead of 40 yr olds, which will more than replace her = D ChAir FOREVER! = P
Oh yeah and after that essay size A/N Please review = )