Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl. If I did, Gossip Girl would be sickeningly mushy…Especially when it comes to Blair and Chuck.
Enjoy!
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Sunday, November 8th—1:02 AM
"I despise you all!" Blair exclaimed, laughing as her best friend Serena Van der Woodsen slammed the door to the limo in her face.
Serena rolled down the window and stuck her tongue out at Blair. "I wasn't kidding when I said that I would race you to the limo. That's your loss, not mine." Serena said.
Blair rolled her eyes. "Haven't you ever heard of the term 'slow and steady wins the race'?"
Serena snorted. "In this case it doesn't. I raced you for the last seat in the limo, you were slow, and you lost. Fair's fair."
Blair sighed dramatically. "Well how am I supposed to…?"
"Blair!"
Blair's head whipped around as her long time friend and ex-boyfriend Nate Archibald waved her over to a candy apple red Lamborghini.
"It's a present from Tripp! You in?" He called.
Blair turned around and smirked at her blonde friend. "At least I'll get there before you in a hotter ride."
Serena laughed. "I still won. If I had known Nate would be coming with his new ride, I would've raced you to that instead." She said, nodding her head towards Nate's Lamborghini.
"Ah Serena…When are you going to learn that I'm always the winner?" Blair chuckled, beginning to make her way towards Nate. "I'll meet you at the party!" She called over her shoulder.
Serena shook her head and rolled up the window, where a group of their eight friends were waiting.
"Is she all set?" Chuck asked, taking a sip of his mimosa.
"Perfect. Nate's going to give her a ride in his new car." Serena said, leaning back in the leather seat.
Chuck raised his eyebrows. "Tripp gave him that car didn't he?"
Serena nodded. "Apparently. It was a Thanksgiving gift to Nate to show his thankfulness for Nate being a good cousin. Or something along those lines. You know how the Archibalds love to spend their money." Serena said, nudging Chuck playfully.
Chuck snorted. "Don't I?"
&&&&&&
Sunday, November 8th—1:16 AM
"I've never understood why you never like your mom's gala events." Nate said, moving the stick shift rather harshly as he swerved sloppily in and out of the busy lanes of New York. "Especially when she's been in France for wherever for the past couple of months. Eleanor always manages to make a grand show of her parties. Plus, her liquor is amazing."
Blair's knuckles were beginning to turn white as the lights from passing cars began to blur much too quickly for her taste. She gasped as Nate ran a red light and nearly got hit by a car coming from his left. She glanced nervously at the speedometer and saw that Nate was pushing about 55 miles in a 35 mile per hour zone.
"Speaking of liquor," Blair said, trying to stay calm, "How much have you had to drink tonight?"
Nate threw his head back and laughed, and Blair's heart flew up into her stomach when his eyes didn't return back to the road immediately. "Don't tell me Blair Waldorf is afraid of me driving under the influence?"
"Well, typically I wouldn't be, but seeing as I'm in the car with you, and you are apparently drunk, I am." Blair said, her lips pursing together as Nate skidded around a corner, nearly wrapping the car around a street sign.
"C'mon Blair…Live a little. A little alcohol never hurt anyone. Besides, you know I'm never all that bad when I'm drunk."
Blair sucked her breath between her teeth as he nearly barreled over some pedestrians. "Nate! Stop! You're going too fast!"
"What? This? The streets are practically empty at this time of night. There's nothing wrong with upping the speed a little."
"You're twenty miles over!" Blair said, her voice beginning to rise in panic.
"And it's not hurting anyone now is it?" Nate asked.
"Nate," Blair said, trying to keep her voice even. "I think you should pull over. You may be able to carry on a conversation while drunk, but it's obvious you can't drive. Can you please just…?"
"…Do you remember the address for this after party?" Nate asked, squinting into the distance, as if somehow their party would appear magically before them.
Blair slowly turned her head, giving Nate a "what-are-you-stupid" look. "It's at Chuck's hotel." She said slowly.
"Really? Have we passed it all ready?" Nate asked.
"I don't know. You were going too fast for me to notice anything beside my rising heart rate." Blair said through clenched teeth.
Nate laughed. "You're so funny Blair. You know, that's what I really miss about you…Your humor." He said, clapping his hand sloppily on top of hers.
"Yeah, I love my sarcasm, you have to turn around because we're in Times Square and we're way too far from where we're supposed to be." Blair said, talking way too fast as traffic began to pick up and Nate was making no effort to slow down his speed.
Nate laughed again. "I can't wait to look back on this in a couple of years. You and I are just going to laugh over ending up in Times Square when Chuck's hotel is pretty much on the other side of Manhattan. Isn't that funny Blair?" He asked, turning his whole attention to Blair.
"Yeah. Hilarious." Blair said, digging her fingernails into her palms.
"Ah c'mon Blair. You wouldn't be this wound up if Chuck was driving this car."
"That's because Chuck would never get drunk." Blair said in a sing-song voice.
"Then why'd you bother getting in the car with me if you knew I was drunk?" Nate asked, clearly confused as he swerved around a silver Lexus that he came pretty close to rear-ending.
"Because I didn't realize you were drunk! I hardly saw you throughout the whole party!" Blair exclaimed.
"Oh. I see." Nate said, completely nonchalant.
Blair gritted her teeth in frustration. "Nate, why the hell haven't we turned around yet?"
"I can't find any place to turn around." Nate whined.
"That's it. Pull over." Blair said, her patience completely vanished.
"What? Why? You don't have your license." Nate said, his voice alarmed for the first time that night.
"Yeah? Well I sure as hell could probably do a lot better than you, seeing as there have been about five opportunities for you to turn around!" Blair shouted.
"Don't yell at me!" Nate responded, also shouting, "I'm not going to chance my car getting totaled by having an inexperienced driver behind the wheel!"
Blair laughed. "Yeah? How about it getting turned into a piece of garbage as you get us both killed?"
"Why can't you ever just trust me Blair? I'm telling you, I'm completely fine, and nothing bad is going to happen to us. Why can't you get that?" Nate snapped.
"Because…" Blair cut herself off as she noticed something odd about Nate's face. Nate began to blink rapidly, before he had his eyes nearly shut as a gigantic luminescent light brightened his entire face. Blair whipped around and screamed as an eighteen-wheeler began advancing towards them from Blair's right, blaring its horn as it made its way, non-stop.
"NATE!" Blair shrieked. She saw Nate's whole entire face clearly as sheer terror flashed across his face. He spun the wheel, the car went out of control.
Blair screamed as she was hit from the right, and screamed again as the car slammed into a building and as glass shot out towards her as if it had meant to do this all along since it's purpose. There was the crunching of glass, the sound of crunching metal, the sound of Nate's head slamming against the side window. There was the sound of gagging as Blair choked on her own blood, blurs of people swarming over to the car, voices shouting to one another, to her and Nate, to anyone who would listen, until the whole car seemed to be surrounded with bodies.
Then, there was darkness.
&&&&&&
Sunday, November 8th—2:14 AM
Chuck Bass made his way through the mass of grinding bodies, trying to keep his eye out for either a brunette or a blonde.
His green eyes narrowed as he scanned the vicinity of the hotel, until his eyes landed on long, cascading golden blonde hair. Sighing half with relief and half with frustration, he managed to push past the gyrating bodies, half wishing they would all just go upstairs and get a room all ready, until he was nearly an inch from Serena.
"Serena!" Chuck shouted over the pounding music and rattling floor boards. When Serena continued to do nothing but dance, Chuck rolled his eyes and shoved the blonde hard. "HEY!" He shouted.
Serena whipped her head around, her hair smacking Chuck in the face. Chuck closed his eyes briefly, trying not to lose his temper before asking calmly, "Have you seen Blair around?"
Serena frowned and scanned the hotel. "No. I haven't actually." Serena pouted as she turned back around. "I thought she had just latched onto you or something, seeing as her and Nate were supposed to be the first ones here."
Chuck let out a sigh of annoyance and spun around on his heel. "Thanks." He said flatly, making his way through the crowd again. Halfway through his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and his eyes widened with relief when he saw the name "Blair" flash across the scene.
"Give me one second, I was just making my way outside." Chuck shouted into the phone, practically running over the remaining dancers until he was outside in the freezing early November air. "Where are you?" He asked breathlessly, goose bumps rising on the back of his neck as the cold air hit him.
"Chuck Bass?" An authoritative male voice said on the other end.
Chuck did a double take at his phone, his hands turning white as he gripped the phone closer to his ear. "Yes. Who's this?"
"I'm a paramedic. I was reported to an accident down by Times Square. Your girlfriend wants you."
Chuck could feel his heart freezing like the bitter wind as he responded, his mouth dry, "Was she in the accident, or did she just see it?"
There was a long pause. One that was much too long for Chuck's taste before the paramedic said, "I think you just need to get down here."
&&&&&&
Sunday, November 8th—2:43 AM
The paramedics must hate me that I'm holding up traffic like this. They're probably annoyed that I'm waiting like this, when every second they can probably see the life draining from my face.
I can't leave though. Not without seeing Chuck. There's so many things I need to tell him…And I don't know how much time I have. I don't even know how I'm awake right now. I thought I was dead. But I'm not…Not yet anyway. I just wish Chuck was here. I wish he was here to kiss my forehead and tell me it was all okay. I wish that he would tell me how beautiful I am, even when I can feel my own blood congealing against my face and in my hair. My stomach also feels wet…Warm and wet. I can't tell if that's blood or if I peed myself. I don't even know if this blood on me is my own or if it's Nate's…
Oh God. Nate. I had forgotten…Ow! It hurts to move! I can't turn my head! Where the hell is Chuck? Where is he so I can tell him that I love him one last time? Is he mad at me? Or does he think that this is some sort of game? I hope not. If that's the case, I wish we had never played those stupid games if he's not going to take me seriously…
"This way! She's over on this side!"
A voice. So far away. Don't know who it is. Where's Chuck? I can't see. Everything's blurring. Am I dying? Is this it? Hurry Chuck…Hurry. Please. I need to see you. It'll be okay if I see you. Come to me…Come on. It's almost over, and it can't end without you…
Oh my god. There he is. No. I'm dreaming. He's too blurry. I'm fading…
"Blair…Oh fuck…Blair…"
His voice. I want him to say my name again, but when I open my mouth, all that comes out is something warm and sticky…Blood.
"Don't try to talk!" His voice is panicked, I hate myself for making him so upset. His dad died like this…I wonder if I'll see him soon. No. Not important. I have to talk to Chuck…
"The paramedics are going to take you out of the car now, okay?" He asks, his warm hand around mine. I quickly grasp his hand and squeeze it until I can hardly feel my fingers.
I'm being lifted now, and instead of looking at everything from the side, everything is above me. Chuck is hovering over me, his face lined with panic and worry. Two paramedics are putting something over my face, and suddenly it's easy to breathe, but not by much. I think it's enough for me to talk to him…
"Chuck…" I'm startled. I know that voice is coming from me, but it doesn't sound like me. I am scared for a moment, but Chuck distracts me.
"Don't talk Blair." He says, his voice growing frustrated. "Dammit. Can't you see you're dying? Talking won't help."
"Don't leave." I rasp, wrapping my fist into his shirt, which is instantly smeared with my blood. "Promise. Stay with me. I need you."
Chuck has his hand wrapped around mine…His big and mine small. "I promise. I won't leave."
I can feel tears prickling against the backs of my eyes, as I realize that this might be the last time I see him…Sad and uncertain like a little boy. I wonder if this is what he looked like after his mom died…
Sunflowers. Dandelions. Chuck's laughter. My hand against his. Chasing him. Park. Summer. Five.
"Smile." I choke, trying to fight it back. "I love you."
I see the faintest smile cross Chuck's face. "I love you too…That's four words and eleven letters."
I manage to laugh, even as I feel something warm bubbling in the back of my throat that tastes metallic. "I love you more…That's twelve letters."
Chuck's smile broadens, and then he is momentarily distracted. Someone is talking to him, but I can't see or hear them very well. His attention is turned back to me and he says, "Blair? They're going to lift you up into the ambulance now. Okay? I'll be right behind you."
I hesitantly let go of his shirt and I watch him disappear for a moment before he appears within my line of vision again. I reach my hand out to him immediately, as if I'm a little kid. His hand envelopes mine again, and I smile faintly. The tears are prickling again, and my chest begins to ache as I try to fight them back. I don't want it to end this way. Not like this. Not to him. He's been through enough. This shouldn't be me. Why am I hurting him? Why can't I stop it? I'm Blair Waldorf. I can do anything…So why can't I fight death?
"…Can you do me a favor?" I manage, my voice barely coming out above a whisper, and I can feel as if time is running out, as if it's slowing down and I have to make every moment count…So I might as well make it count with this one small thing.
"Anything." Chuck says, kissing my forehead, and I am grateful for his warmth, because now I'm starting to feel cold…Too cold. Too numb…I need to feel him…Memorize him.
Victrola. Limo. Sex. Three words, eight letters. Nate. Summer. Plane. No! Not now! I don't want to see this now! I'm not ready for this!
"Will you stroke my hair?" I manage, my voice shaking uncontrollably.
"Like this?" Chuck asks, and I can hear his voice shaking too, as his fingers brush against my forehead, his hand making a whooshing sound as it brushes over my ear. I close my eyes.
Finger trailing down my neck and arm. Shivers. A warm hand enveloped in mine. Arms around me. Strong. Holding me tight. Tenderness. Love in his eyes. Smiling. I want him to say it. Three words, eight letters. Bar. Roof. Ledge. No! Don't jump! Apology. His arms around me again. My face in his hair. Smells like alcohol and tropical shampoo. I hate alcohol. Tears. Don't leave! Come back! Say it!
"Blair?"
Far away. Why are you far away? Why aren't you in bed with me? Behind me. Arms around my waist, kissing my neck, stroking your thumb over my hand. I love you so much it hurts. I'm Blair Waldorf and I love you. Stay with me. Art auction. Words I'll never forget. Forgiveness. Games. Sex. Kissing. Tingles. Uncontrollable love. I love him so much…
"Blair!" Chuck shouts, why is he shouting?
Oh yeah. I'm dying.
I take in a shuddering breath, trying to gain some strength. "I'm going to sleep now. Stroke my hair still? I can go to sleep right?"
His hands freeze, concern washes over his features with a mix of pain and sadness. "Yeah. Yeah. You can go to sleep if you want. I'll still be here." His voice is shaking, his eyes are brimming with tears, and I know he's fighting it.
I try to tell him not to cry over me, but I'm all ready fading…
Fading…
Fading…
And I'm gone.
&&&&&&
Sunday, November 8th—5:06 AM
My father used to tell me that every good relationship starts with the word "Hello"—Whether it's a friendship or a love that was meant to last forever, "Hello" is always the first word to the start of a beautiful relationship.
For me, the perfect relationship started with the words, "Why are you dressed so funny?"
Those were the very first words Blair said to me, the first time we met when we were just five and in kindergarten. It's funny how she's hardly changed at all. Even then, she was still as outspoken and opinionated as ever. She was also good at playing hard to get at recess. I remember one time I ran over to Blair to play a game of hide and go seek with her, and she shoved me into a bush of poison ivy. Granted, she didn't realize that it was poison ivy, and to this day I still don't know how no one apart of the janitorial staff noticed it growing in a kid's playground.
I do know this though, from day one, I was always drawn to Blair. I remember giving her a dandelion, and I remember how giddy she was, exclaiming how she loved dandelions. I remember her holding that dandelion close to her heart, closing her eyes tightly until her nose was all scrunched up. Then, after taking in a huge gasp of air, she blew on the dandelion, and the seeds scattered everywhere. I remember her eyes opening, widening in glee as she reached out to catch them, even though they danced free of her fingers.
"What did you wish for?" I had asked, curious as to why she had been concentrating so hard on one wish.
Blair had shot me an incredulous look. "You're not supposed to tell what your wish is, or else it won't come true."
As the years went on, it became more and more obvious that Blair wanted nothing to do with me, but because of our families, we were stuck with each other. I remember when I was in my first year of middle school, I remember running to Blair first after I had lost my virginity. I still can't exactly figure out why, especially when she was with Nate, and had been since kindergarten. But I had. Blair had only rolled her eyes and told me that she pitied the poor girl. I didn't dare tell her it was Georgina Sparks…I felt as if that would've been disloyal, since I knew Blair had hated Georgina since she had cut off some of her auburn locks in third grade after Blair didn't invite Georgina to her ninth birthday party.
As the years dragged on from there, I began finding myself wanting Blair more than I realized was possible. I began growing jealous of Nate, who was supposed to be my best friend, and annoyed with him because he didn't seem to care about Blair…Not the way I did. It made me angry, to know that Blair was so beautiful, and that Nate didn't even care about her. It was like he didn't realize how lucky he was. I find it ironic that Nate got Blair into the situation she's in now.
Which I won't think about…
…Too late.
I sigh and grasp Blair's hand in mine, monitors beeping all around us. She hasn't moved, hasn't even opened her eyes, not once since she's fallen asleep. The doctors say she's comatose. I wish they would just tell me that she's waiting to die instead of making it sound like she will wake up any second. I'm not a little kid…I'm not stupid. I know that we're nearing the end…Her hands are all ready beginning to grow cold. I am literally feeling the life drain out of my girlfriend. I want to run in the opposite direction…But I know that wouldn't be fair. Blair has seen me in my dark moments, now I have to see her in hers…Along with her final ones.
I swallow the lump in my throat, watching as the I.V. and the breathing mask continued to pump life into her veins, even though I know that if Blair did miraculously survive, the chances of her being the same after this were slim. Hell, I know I'm probably going to be different…I'm all ready having some serious doubts about ever stepping into a car again.
I rubbed my hands across my forehead. Why couldn't that have been me in the car with Nate? I should've told Blair that she could take my seat in the limo and I could've gone off with Nate. I should've known that Nate would be drunk. So why didn't I…?
Blair began to blur before me, and I begin to feel pathetic over the fact that I'm crying like this as if I'm a child. Crying won't make Blair any better. If she were awake right now she'd probably be snapping at me to stop crying and get over it in her Blair way.
I run my free hand through my hair and watch Blair, watching as the machines kept her chest in the rhythm of rising and falling of breathing in and out…In and out…
"Say it. And I'm yours."
I couldn't. If I did, I'd let you down. I'm the worst type of person…Even though I loved you so much…I couldn't be with you. I couldn't risk breaking your heart. I wouldn't be able to deal with it. I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing that I hurt you…Almost like how Nate had when he had cheated on you with Serena. Not that I could tell you any of this…I couldn't show you how vulnerable I was to you. I was scared. I was scared that you would see me different. You loved me for being the 'bad boy'…Not for being the overly sentimental one. I didn't want you to see how pathetic I was…My father had all ready seen that side of me…And we all know how that turned out.
"Chuck…"
"Don't do this to me Blair." I say aloud, surprised by how hoarse my voice sounds. I sound like my father. What a comforting thought.
"Chuck…"
I squeeze my eyes shut. I don't want to hear this.
"Chuck…It's time to say goodbye."
No! Not now! I'm not ready! I can't! I can't…
"Chuck! Stop crying and say goodbye!"
Mom…
Is that what Blair will be? Just some a dim memory burned to a crisp and placed away in a decorative vase? Besides that, the only reminder of her will be red roses and white lilies with various pictures of her throughout her life scattered across the funeral home…Her smiling face mocking us at how we will probably never be happy like that again…
I try to picture Blair dead, whether she's cremated or in a casket, but all I can see is her…Hanging on in a stiff hospital bed covered with even stiffer sheets. I can't do it. I can't picture her dead. She's probably hanging on, waiting for me to say goodbye, but I can't…Just like I couldn't with my mom. Except this time it's different…I was four when my mom died. Now, I'm nineteen, and I've spent the past fourteen years of my life with Blair. Every memory I have somehow involves her. I can see her everywhere…Her auburn hair, her brown eyes, her Constance Billiard uniform…I can hear her laughter, see her smile, her charisma, her temper…
Why the hell can't she just be alive like she was then? Why can't she just wake up and laugh and say, "Don't you just love our games?" I can see that, after all. Blair faking a near-death experience to see if I really love her as much as I say I do…
…No. Even I know that's stupid. Blair knows that I love her more than I ever had. It may have taken me two years…But I finally said it. I even proved it by traveling around the freaking world to get her all her favorite things.
Maybe I didn't do enough and that's why she won't wake up. But I don't know what else she wants. I don't know how else to show that I love her besides telling her repeatedly that I love her until I lose my voice from saying it. Does she want reasons as to why too? Because if that's the case, there are way too many to count…
I hesitate, watching her, trying to figure out what Blair would want if she were at least partially awake…
It hits me.
I cautiously rise out of my chair and raise the stiff white sheets, enough for me to slide through. I lie next to her, resting my chin on her shoulder, hoping that my breath will somehow warm her to life.
I wrap my arms tentatively around her waist, careful not to disturb the newly bandaged area where a piece of metal sliced into her lower abdomen. I still can't believe she survived that. Or…Sort of did anyway.
As I lie beside her, I can see everything beginning to turn gray, and I wonder if I am seeing the last of Blair, and my mind is showing me that she's nothing but a gray area in my life now. A neutral part that will slowly fade away with age, even if I may try to hold on to her for the rest of my life.
I realize with a start that that's most likely what's going to happen. But in order for my life to go down that path, I need to make it go that way. Maybe I was destined for this. Maybe I was destined to experience what true love really was before it was taken away from me and I was meant to spend the rest of my life alone. A fitting life for Chuck Bass the Coward.
I lean forward so that my lips are pressed against Blair's ear and murmur, "It's okay Blair. You can let go now. I'll hold you until you're ready…And then I'll let go too."
&&&&&&
"Blair!"
Where am I? Is this…Where…? Why aren't I…? I'm supposed to be dead. So why am I…Here…?
"BLAIR!"
I whip my head around, my head reeling, and my jaw drops as I look into the face of a five-year-old Chuck Bass. I gaze around my surroundings and can't believe that I'm in his house…Or why. How am I even seeing this…?
"Blair!' Chuck snaps, tugging on my sleeve. "C'mon. You said we were going to play that new game you made up."
I stare blankly at Chuck, not comprehending what's exactly happening right now. "Game…?" I managed to brilliantly utter.
Chuck rolls his eyes. "Yeah!"
"How did I tell you it went?" I ask, not even remembering this memory from my childhood. If this was supposed to be a re-cap of my life, then God sure had a sick way of showing me the positive outlooks of my life, seeing as of right now, the memories weren't even real.
Chuck beamed impishly at me. "You said it was called 'Find the Door.'"
Yep. I don't remember this at all. This never happened. I should know, because I would never make up a stupid game like "Find the Door." How moronic.
"I…Why not if you make up the rules, because I seem to forget them." I say, trying to smile.
Chuck grins at me. "Okay. We'll start by playing Follow the Leader. Come on." He says, jumping from floor panel to floor panel in his apartment.
I follow him down a lengthy hallway, and I'm confused because I don't remember his apartment ever being this ridiculously long. As we wander down the hallway, white doors are on either side of us, and occasionally I can hear voices or laughter on the other side. At one point, I'm pretty sure I hear the real Chuck's voice, but when I reach for the door, five-year-old Chuck slaps my hand away.
"This isn't the door." He says begrudgingly, and begins to hop down the hall again.
I scrunch up my face in confusion. "How do you know what the door is? You told me that I made up the game!" I exclaim.
Chuck turns around and smiles mischievously at me. "It's my game now."
Okay. Not too creepy. I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this…But when I turn around, there's nothing behind me but a white wall. What the hell?
"Come on Blair! Catch up!" Chuck called over his shoulder.
I dutifully follow, hugging my arms close to my chest, and as we begin to wander further down the hallway, I start to get an eerie feeling from the laughter and voices coming from behind all these white doors.
"Here we are!" Chuck exclaims, startling me as he comes to an abrupt halt in front of me.
"Where is 'here'?" I ask, seeing nothing but another white wall. Was I now trapped in here or something?
"Your sanctuary."
My heart stops as I look at the Chuck I know, instead of the five-year-old Chuck, and he smiles mischievously at me. With the touch of his hand, there is a black door with a shiny golden knob, glinting at me in a mocking way.
He wraps his hand around it and pushes it inward, while he wraps his fingers around my right hand. "Come on Blair."
I step closer to him, but I refuse to go through the door until I know what's inside. And what I see makes me gasp, because what's sprawled ahead of me is an endless field of fun and games. There's a gigantic 'Candy Land' section and an 'Audrey Hepburn Trivia Game' that I'm pretty sure doesn't exist, as well as 'Checkers', 'Connect Four', and 'Clue.' All of my favorite games from when I was three, all to now, and all of them are one big life-sized game spread out before me. Games that would…
…Take eternity to get through.
Chuck smirks at me. "Want to play 'Life'?" He asks, snapping his fingers where a mirror image of myself appears in front of me, Chuck on my right, just like he is in this world.
"This is us now," Chuck says, gesturing grandly at the mirror. "And this is us if you leave." He says, sweeping his hand over the mirror, revealing a wrinkled, white-haired couple with no teeth and both balding. I can't help but wrinkle my nose in disgust.
"We can spend eternity in here." Chuck whispers to me, trailing his finger down my neck. "Playing games all day long…Forever young. You can even visit your friends whenever you like. They're just another door we have to find."
I sigh longingly, my hand wrapping around his. "Or…?" I ask dreamily.
"Or you can go back to the real world and grow old with me. You'll face lover's spats, divorce scares, screaming matches, constant business functions, and three snot-nosed children. Half of your life will be spent with me traveling halfway around the world on business, only appearing at holidays, and even then I'll only be half there, because I'll have my cell phone glued to my ear 24/7. Then, when I'm old and retired and the kids have grown, we'll spend the rest of our lives waiting for the other to die so we can finally get some relief. In the mean time we'll go through liver spots, heart attacks, strokes, and the constant scare of death…When this is nothing but a haven."
My eyes slowly open. "Won't this haven be here when I'm old and gray?" I whisper.
Chuck laughs softly. "I doubt it. Your interests will change. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity Blair. You can live without suffering through any of that…Uncertainty. Who knows? You and I might not even last. In two, three years, we'll just get bored with each other. And if we do actually get married, we'll probably just divorce one another because we can't entertain ourselves with any of our games. Who wants to live like that, when you can live here young and carefree with the same Chuck Bass you now know and love, instead of the miserable old bastard he'll turn into who'll be the last remaining memory of your true love?"
Chuck, of course, had a point. If I left here, I'd be stuck living in Limbo, with Chuck and I growing older and growing further apart as time went on and he became more involved with work. We probably would grow bored with each other when it would begin to get ridiculous for us to be playing games to keep ourselves entertained. We could also get a divorce…Or…
…Or live a happy life and make up new games with our three beautiful children.
"Who are you kidding?" Chuck asked. "How can you live a happy life with taxes, business hours, and the like?"
Also true. We wouldn't be carefree anymore…Whereas here we'd be…
"Perfect." Chuck whispered, kissing my neck.
My eyes snapped open. No. This didn't feel right. This wasn't Chuck. This wasn't the way Chuck would kiss me. This wasn't real.
"You want me to leave so that I can leave him alone forever." I whisper, backing away from Chuck.
He snorted. "You're telling me he doesn't deserve it? He spent the past two years of your life leading you on. Playing games with you, but not the fun kind. He only wants you for sex."
"No he doesn't." I say, gritting my teeth and clenching my fists at my sides.
"Come on Blair." Chuck says with a chuckle, reaching out his hand for me. "Stop toying with me and come with me. Here, I'll be everything you desire, everything that Chuck isn't all ready. I can be perfect."
I smirk. "If you were perfect. You wouldn't be Chuck. And I love Chuck for who he is, even if some of those things are flaws."
&&&&&&
Sunday, November 8th—9:44 AM
"Blair?" I whisper. "You've made it through the night. And I'm proud of you for that. Mrs. Archibald came in here a few minutes ago and told me that Nate made it as well. He should actually be waking up soon according to the doctors…" I swallow. "And I just want you to know, that if you wake up…We're meant to be forever."
We're meant to be forever.
I smirk at Chuck, his mouth drops and his eyes widen. "No."
"There's my cue. Let's never do this again."
"NO!"
"Blair?" He gasps. "Oh my god…Blair…Are you…?"
"…Yeah." I manage, slowly opening my eyes. I beam up at Chuck and reach out my hand to caress his face that has stubble across his cheekbones.
Chuck gives out a surprised laugh. "I thought I lost you."
I manage a tight smile. "You almost did."
Chuck laughs. "Couldn't leave me, huh?" He says, hugging me close to his chest so that I could inhale his amazing scent.
I smile, tears glistening in my eyes as I say, "Nope."
"I can't believe this. It's a miracle." Chuck whispers to himself, kissing my hair repeatedly.
My smile broadens as I feel my own warm salty tears slide down my face. "It's a sign."
"A sign of what?" Chuck asks, beginning to tickle my back.
I pull away from him, my smile broadening as I wrap my arms around his neck. "A sign that we were meant to last forever."
Chuck grins and kisses me tenderly. "I love you Blair."
"I love you too Chuck…And that's sixteen letters."
END
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