I was watching 4x22 the other day and naturally, I cried at the end again. No matter how many times I watch it, it always affects me the same way. I so wanted a different ending. So I came up with this.

His shoes were completely ruined. Covered in grit and grime, and soaked all the way through to his socks.

It came as no surprise. Hours before, Chuck Bass had kissed Blair Waldorf on the forehead, told her goodbye and watched her walk up the staircase arm-in-arm with her fairytale prince to announce their betrothal.

He himself had slipped out into the rainy night with no particular destination in mind.

He simply wanted to feel something again.

Anything.

The mist falling on his face.

The cold damp in the air.

The space in his chest where his heart used to beat now echoed in silence.

He felt utterly and completely numb.

It was ironic, he thought. The evening had been such a rollercoaster of emotion. First, his puzzlement in not being able to find Blair at the party, then her call and the desperate race to get to her before Russell Thorpe could exact his revenge, and finally the overwhelming relief when he had gotten there in time.

That should have been enough emotion for any one evening.

But it had just been the beginning.

Their impulsive decision to have a drink before he returned Blair to the party had led to that magical time at the bar mitzvah. And it had been magical, there was no other word for it. From the smile on Blair's face that matched the smile in her eyes, to the dizzy feeling as they were hoisted above in the crowd in their chairs, to Blair's desperate passion pulling him into the coat closet and his reverent kisses on her back, her neck, her lips…. It was as though they had entered some alternate universe where they were together…happy…in love.

It was his greatest dream come true.

But dreams come in the night for a reason: because they cannot stand up to the harsh light of day.

When the afterglow gave way to the garish streetlight outside, it was clear that Blair's happiness had gone with it. She felt guilty and conflicted. Though she had talked about theirs being a great love, one that she was willing to give up her fairytale for, the look in her eyes and the sadness in her voice broke his heart.

He had agreed that he too felt guilty—and he did, but not for anything that had happened between him and Blair that night. He felt guilt and shame that once again he was the cause of pain in Blair's eyes. An avalanche of memories of other times he'd caused that look in her eyes weighed him down, and he knew what he had to do.

He could not have his dream come true at the expense of her fairytale with someone who had never hurt her.

He had to give her up.

Every fiber of his being had cried out in protest. His heart had sped up, then slowed to a dull thud, then seemed to turn to stone in chest.

He'd felt nothing since that moment.

After dismissing Arthur and walking around the city for hours, all he had to show for his efforts was a pair of sodden shoes.

Now inside his suite at the Empire, he slid off the shoes in question and his damp overcoat. He didn't even bother turning on any lights as he made his way to his bedroom.

The bedside light cast a faint glow over the room, illuminating such a startling sight in his bed that his dormant heart was suddenly shocked back into life.

There, lying atop his duvet, fully dressed except for the designer pumps she'd kicked off her feet and the pale pink cashmere coat that was draped over the end of his bed, was the love of his life.

She stirred and sat up.

"Chuck?" Blair voice was soft with sleep. "Where have you been?"

"Blair, what are you doing here?" Puzzled, Chuck said the first words that came into his mind.

"I came to find you. I ran out after you, but you had already left and I couldn't catch you. So I thought you'd be here. But you weren't, so I think I fell asleep."

"But why? When I left, you were going to announce your engagement to Louis." Maybe he'd caught a fever during his long walk and now his brain was hallucinating, producing visions of what he most wanted to see.

"I was," she agreed, holding out her hands and encouraging him to come sit on the bed next to her.

He took both her hands in his and squeezed.

"But…?"

"With every step I took away from you, I just felt more dead inside. I felt…empty…wrong. It was the wrong goodbye, Chuck." Her voice rang with conviction. One hand came up and gently stroked his face. "We belong together."

He sighed. "Blair, we talked about this. You deserve your fairytale. I want you to have that."

"What I deserve is something real, and the only thing that's ever been real is me and you. You said that yourself."

"And you said that it's lighter and simpler with Louis. And you love him."

"I do, but not like I love you. I've never loved anyone like I love you, and I never will. You know what those 3 words, 8 letters mean. For us, the great love is the right love." Her tone was pleading with him to understand.

He couldn't let himself be swayed.

"I've hurt you, Blair," he forced the words between his lips, "Too much and too many times."

"You've also made me happier than I've ever been. Did you mean what you said about me being the most powerful woman you know?"

"You know I did."

"How can I be powerful if I can't choose what really makes me happy? YOU make me happy. I want us to start over, with no worrying about titles and tiaras, about society ladies and foundations….just Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck. Unless…that's not what you want….?" She gazed at him with the all-important question in her eyes.

He kissed each of her hands. "How can you even ask? Tonight was both the best and worst night of my life." He leaned in and their lips met in a kiss. "I just have one last thing to ask: Are you sure? Because walking away from you tonight was the hardest thing I've ever done, and-"

"But I didn't let you walk away, Bass, now did I?" She offered him a saucy smile. "I came chasing after you. And I think I ruined my Jimmy Choos." She glanced regretfully over the side of the bed.

"I'll buy you another pair," he promised.

"You'd better!" she tried to sound stern but her voice trailed into a purr as he lay down beside her and pulled her against him.

Suddenly, her contented sighs turned into shrieks. "Chuck! Your socks are wet! And cold!"

He looked sheepish. "I'm afraid my footwear met a similar fate to yours." He reached down to slip off the offending hosiery.

Blair turned and opened her arms wide to fully embrace him, her hands coming up to caress the planes of his face, her fingers brushing a lock of damp hair out of his eyes.

"You're completely soaked! Were you really out walking all this time? Where did you go?"

"Everywhere," he confessed. "And nowhere. I really wasn't paying attention. Just trying to convince myself that saying goodbye was the right thing to do."

"Which it clearly wasn't. I can't believe I let you go, even for a second, but I think I was so shocked and confused that I didn't really realize you were gone….until you left. You took my heart with you."

"I didn't want to stand in the way of your destiny." Spoken aloud, the words sounded corny, but the intense look in his eyes told her just how sincerely he meant them.

"Destiny?!" she snorted. "Destiny is for losers. It's just a stupid excuse to wait for things to happen instead of making them happen. I'm tired of waiting. We're inevitable, Bass. I'm just speeding up the process." Unlike before, she sounded firmly convinced of what she was saying.

He sighed. He wanted so much to believe that this was it, their defining moment, but he didn't want her to be sorry later, to second guess a decision made in the heat of the moment.

"Your society ladies won't understand. They'll judge you for choosing me," he had to remind her.

"Anne Archibald is a catty old bitch. Who cares what she thinks? I love how she conveniently forgets how you've helped her family over the years, especially during the Captain's troubles. What kind of man calls himself "The Captain" anyway? Like she has any room to judge!" Blair was warming to the passion of her arguments.

She stopped when she saw Chuck staring at her, smiling.

"What?!"

"Like I said, you're the most powerful woman I know." Pride shone in his eyes.

A flush spread across her cheeks. "I love you, Chuck Bass, and I want to be your family. I don't ever want to say goodbye again. Look, we've made mistakes in the past, and we can work through those and take our time, but can't we just skip all that for tonight? Can't you just be kissing me now?"

And the gentleman was happy to oblige the lady.

A few moments later, they were still completely ensconced in each other, with various articles of clothing strewn about the bed, ready for their bodies to become one once more.

It was a magic moment. One he never took for granted. Not the first time in the limo or any time thereafter, but after coming so close to losing her forever, it was especially sweet tonight.

They let the rightness of their connection sweep over them. It was so much more than their mere bodies touching, it was their souls. For them, it would always be making love.

So they took the time to enjoy every shared look, every caress, every sigh and whispered "I love you" until those sighs gave way to white hot bursts of pleasure that seared through to their souls.

Then they slept, secure in the knowledge that their goodbye earlier that night was indeed their last.

And everything else was just beginning.

Is this the end of the story? I do have some ideas where this could go, so I'm not sure myself. Let me know what you think.

This goes out to my friend Chrys1130, who, when I whined that I just didn't feel ready to start my CB historical story yet, said, "Write something else first then!" Historical CB is still very much in the works; I just need to do some more research first. Thanks to Chrys and svenjen for being my beta buddies.

Special thanks to the anon reviewer who "CANNOT wait much longer." Your kind words made me smile and spurred me on to write.

Readers, you are all appreciated and cherished. Have a lovely day