Summary: Chuck is adjusting to his life as Henry when he decides to check GG to see how Blair is on her 20th birthday. What he finds might ruin his new life before it really even gets started.
Wasn't planning on writing this, it just kind of happened as a result of loving the premiere and some serious insomnia. :) It's Chuck and Blair of course! Please let me know if you want more of this... (This is totally unrelated to the story, but this is my plea for people who watch the show online every week to try and watch on TV. The ratings were awful and I know this show is way more popular than what it looks like, but the network will stop accepting the fact that so many people watch it online as an excuse soon. I really don't want GG canceled.)
1
Stretching out against the soft cotton sheets in his Parisian apartment, Henry Prince yawns in protest before finally opening his eyes and slamming his hand against his blaring alarm clock. He lets out a heavy breath before his eyes trail over to Eva at his side, and he can't help the small smile that curls his lips.
The past five months had been hard, definitely, but in a way it had been so easy at the same time. His life here as Henry was complicated by issues such as making rent or having to wake up too early for work, a far cry from his problems with indescribable heartache and powerful drugs when he was Chuck Bass. Being saved by Eva had been a breath of new life when he had been literally about to succumb to the world around him, and he couldn't be more grateful to have her in his life.
Leaning across the bed, he places a chaste kiss on her cheek, smiling at her mumbled protests as he crawls out of bed. He stands slowly and tiredly stretches his muscles in the dark apartment. He sighs and rubs his eyes before moving blindly around the room, only the faintest light peeking in through the window as the sun begins to rise.
He pulls on his uniform, still conscious of his wound as he puts on his crisp white shirt and black vest. It's still tender at times, but it's infinitely better than the constant, searing pain he'd felt the first couple months. In fact, it'd been so much better that he hadn't had to use the cane Eva had given him since way back at the end of summer.
"Henry?"
He turns towards the bed as he slides on his jacket to see his girlfriend, his savior, looking up at him through tired eyes.
"I love you."
He smiles, because he's happy. Truly he is. He's never been so stress free and carefree and simply content just being alive. His smile turns into a grin as he crosses the room and leans in to kiss her on the lips.
"I love you too," he tells her, ignoring the way it rolls off his tongue so easily but still doesn't make his stomach flutter or his pulse race the way it did when he told a feisty brunette living on the other side of the Atlantic.
Pulling back, he starts towards the door and straightens his jacket. "I'll bring back dinner tonight from the restaurant," he promises as he leaves, smiling as she blows him as kiss as he leaves.
Working is different here than it ever was for him in New York, that's for sure. He gets annoyed at times with the menial job of being a simple bus boy because he knows he could be doing so much more, but that's the sacrifice he's made to live the life he does now. He avoids his co-workers and only really speaks to the owner, Eva's uncle Louis, when he's on his breaks. He just wants the rest of the world to leave him alone, which is why he can't help but be put off when customers bother him.
"Excusez-moi?"
Looking up from wiping a table, him eyes land on an older woman looking up at him expectantly.
"Do you happen to know the date?" she asks haughtily in her extremely thick French accent.
He sighs and rolls his eyes. "November four-" he begins to answer off-handedly before he stutters suddenly, his heart thudding in his chest as the date lands on him, "-teenth."
The woman looks at him strangely, muttering a merci before she turns back to her meal but he doesn't even notice.
Standing frozen in the middle of the restaurant, his eyes stare sightlessly ahead.
November 14th; Blair's birthday.
He frowns as he is suddenly assaulted with thoughts of a girl he'd tried so hard to push to the back of his mind. He remembers last year on her birthday, they had been dating and in love and spent the whole day wrapped up in each other in bed.
He wonders how she is celebrating today.
"Prince!"
Snapping from his thoughts, he looks up and sees Eva's uncle watching him in concern.
"You okay, son?"
He nods and forces a smile. "I'm fine, Louis."
"Well look alive then, Prince," the jovial man commands him. "The day is just beginning!"
A hollow laugh escapes his lips as he tiredly gets back to work.
The more he stays here, the more he has been able to forget about his old life. He hadn't had any horrific dreams in a weeks and he couldn't be more thankful. He's Henry Prince now, and after he'd bought a passport and birth certificate with his new name on it, he'd promised himself he would never go back and he'd never think about his old life again, but it's suddenly impossible.
He wipes tables and keeps them set, but while he moves about, his mind can't get off of Blair.
He wonders if she is having a party, and if so, where. He thinks of the Hudson, Rose Bar, or even her mother's penthouse. If he were in New York, he'd probably be getting ready to go celebrate with her; but he knows that's just wishful thinking. He knows if he were really in New York he'd probably be getting ready to do a line and call one of the girls from his little black book because Blair still wouldn't be speaking to him.
The rest of the day passes by painfully slow as he tries not to think of a girl who broke his heart, and he hers. It's impossible though and he leaves the cafe that day with a heavy heart.
He walks with a full mind out of the cafe and heads aimlessly through the city. He realizes after awhile that he's forgotten the dinner he promised Eva and he's ended up on the wrong side of the city. In the back of his mind though, he knows this is where he was headed the whole time as he stops in front of an internet cafe. He steps through the door and his knee taps anxiously as he waits for the computer to load the internet.
Hesitating, he rethinks if he really wants to do this. It doesn't matter what it says online, he can't go back. He won't go back and maybe seeing her face again will make all this so much more complicated. At this point though, he doesn't think he can help it. He needs to see her smiling face again, just to see that she's okay so he can go on with his life here in Paris without her. He takes a deep breath and types in the address and watches nervously as the Gossip Girl website loads on the screen.
It doesn't take long for him to find a story about her, in fact the first post on the page is. There's no pictures, which is a disappointment, but as his eyes skim over the story he can't help the sense of dread that fills him up and settles in his bones.
B turns twenty today and here's hoping that means she will finally grow up and realize there's no such thing as fairy tales. Prince Charming turns out to be dull, kisses don't fix everything, and no one lives happy ever after. It's time to come home and accept the fact that sometimes Romeo dies and Juliet has to pick up the pieces and move on. At least if you came home, B, you'd have some shiny new presents from Tiffany's to comfort you. But happy birthday, B. Wherever you are….
His brow furrows in confusion as he rereads the post. What is she talking about? Where is Blair?
He doesn't hesitate to go to search and find all blasts that mention Blair Waldorf. As soon as they load, he is even more thrown off when he sees the last post before today was from over a month ago.
I know we've all heard that B off this semester to stay with her father, but I've got it on good authority that instead of drowning her sorrows at her father's chateau, she's really checking in and out of every five star hotel from here to Tokyo. I know I'm not usually one to have a heart, but I can't help but wish you would let it go for your own sanity, B. It's been months, and with a body in the ground, I think it's time to accept the fact that you're not going to run into the mother-chucker cooling his heels in Monaco waiting for you to find him. Just come home, B. I know S is lonely at Columbia without her BFF.
A sick weight drops in his stomach. He can't believe what he's reading.
He goes back to the search and immediately types in his own name; his old name, Chuck Bass. The first blast he sees is from early September and immediately he feels nauseous at what he sees.
1991-2010
It seems all the rumors are true. The king has fallen, leaving a billion dollars, a closet full of perfectly tailored suits, and a plethora of broken hymens and hearts behind. Oh C, you were meant for so much more than a lonely demise in France, but I guess you always knew how to leave everyone wanting more. And what of queen B? Seems she's still in denial, refusing to leave France to come back to the city for the funeral. Poor, B. Hopefully her royal subjects will be able to talk some sense into her before it's too late.
He stares at the screen in absolute disbelief.
What did he expect everyone to think? He disappeared without a trace but it's not like that's never happened before. Actually, he should be relieved he is considered dead because that means no one is looking for him.
Except Blair it seems.
He closes the website, unable to read anymore.
Could she really be out looking for him?
While he was recovering, he'd spent a great amount of time contemplating what would have happened if he had died. Honestly, he thought it would have been justice if he had died on that street and had believed that would have been a popular opinion amongst those in his old life, even Blair.
He takes a shuttering breath and rubs his hands against his face.
He broke her heart, he ruined her. Why would she care that much? Why wouldn't she just go on with her life?
Pushing himself away from the computer, he makes a hasty exit from the cyber-cafe and walks out into the streets, his head hung low and his heart heavy.
He wishes he had never gone to that website. He should have just gone home to Eva after work, brought her dinner like he promised, and spent the night in bed with her. Now, though, he can't get thoughts of regret and pain and Blair out of his head.
He walks into the small apartment he shares with his girlfriend and she is immediately calling out to him.
"Thank god your home," she smiles, as she puts down her book and crawls off the worn couch in the corner. "I'm starving."
He tries to smile but it comes off as more sad than happy. "Sorry," he mutters as he takes off his jacket, "I forgot about dinner."
Eva laughs and shakes her head at him. "That's alright," she assures him as she comes up and wraps her arms around his waist. "I'll find something around here to make us."
He doesn't respond and simply looks at the ground and tries to move away from her.
She frowns following him across the room. "Is something wrong?"
He meets her gaze uneasily, and he wants to lie. He wants to forget about Gossip Girl and Blair and everything and just stay here with this girl forever. It'd be so easy to live here in France and be someone he is not. But maybe all of this was too much. Maybe he shouldn't have stuck with this hasty decision he made to be Henry Prince when he woke up after he was shot. He used to be a coward and a bastard. He used to be able to sit by while someone suffered and even occasionally take pleasure in their pain. But not anymore and not definitely not when that someone is Blair.
He has to do something about this.
"Eva," he begins softly, wrapping her hand up in his. "I…" he trails off, meeting her big blue eyes, so full of love and he feels awful for what he's about to do. "There's something you should know..."
–––
She snaps her phone shut in a huff after she reads her birthday blast from Gossip Girl.
What does that gossiping bitch know?
Nothing.
Blair knows Chuck is alive and she isn't going to just stop trying to find him because of something some stupid whore with a website says, or what anyone else does for that matter.
She drops her phone onto the bed and quickly moves about her hotel room, picking up the few items she bothered to unpack and putting them back into her Louis Vuitton suitcase. Stepping quickly into the bathroom she pulls some powdered foundation from her makeup case and brushes just enough to make herself presentable before putting her toiletries away as well.
Sighing she lets herself study her reflection for longer than she has in months and she barely recognizes herself. The bags under her eyes are so deep she's worried they might be permanent and her hair is dull and limp and simply hangs there. She's still slightly horrified that she's wearing jeans on an almost daily basis now, (designer ones of course, but still- ew!), and a plain black top hangs from her thin shoulders. Traveling with only one suitcase though, something she never thought she'd do, really left her no room for anything extraneous and non-essential which basically describes her whole wardrobe.
It's the look on her face, though, that truly doesn't resemble Blair Waldorf. She looks so lost and so so broken, but at the same time, completely detached from the world around her.
The ringing of her cell phone in the other room snaps her out of her daze. Grabbing up her make-up case, she moves quickly to the other room and drops it into her suitcase before reluctantly answering her phone.
"What?"
"Happy birthday, B," Serena's voice coos gently across the line, making Blair roll her eyes.
Since the moment this all started, everyone talked to her as if she would shatter at any moment. But she wouldn't break, she was stronger than that. Plus, she had no reason to break, Chuck was fine. She'd show everyone.
"What do you want, S? I'm kind of in a hurry," she barks impatiently.
"Oh? Off to somewhere new again?" Serena asks, trying to sound upbeat. " Maybe Rome? Budapest?" she wonders, pausing before adding hopefully, "New York?"
Blair sighs. "Serena…"
"What? Is it so terrible for your best friend to want to see you on your birthday?" Serena asks innocently. "If you came back, we could have Dorota set up a big party for you at the Hudson for tomorrow night. I mean, it would be a day late, but your turning twenty. You deserve a big party and-"
"Look, I don't really have time for this right now, so.." Blair interrupts in annoyance, about to just hang up.
"Wait! B!"
Silently, Blair obliges, but crosses her arms and taps her foot as she waits and her best friend sigh on the other end of the line.
"Don't you think… Don't you think it's time you stop all this?" Serena cautiously and softly tries to get her friend to see the truth for the fiftieth time. "I mean, it's been three months since the funeral. And I know you weren't there, but you saw the body when.."
"I know, S!" Blair snaps in frustration.
She had seen the body they had buried when Lily sent her and Serena to ID it. It had been so badly decomposed it was unrecognizable, but it wasn't him. She knew it wasn't Chuck and she'd told everyone that would listen, screamed it at them all, begged them to believe her, but no one did. Serena could barely look but for some reason said it was his body and Lily couldn't bare to have him prodded and hurt anymore with DNA tests, so that was it. The body was buried next to Bart in New York and no one listened to her because they all thought she was delusional with heartache.
"But that wasn't him!" she tells her friend firmly. "I know you don't believe me, no one does, but it wasn't him. That was not Chuck!"
"Okay, okay," Serena tries to calm down her friend, letting out a heavy breath. "But if it wasn't him, where is he? Why hasn't he come back to New York? Or called even?"
Blair doesn't have an answer as tears slowly start running down her cheeks.
"Just come home, B."
Shaking her head to herself, Blair hastily starts wiping her tears away, composing herself. "I have to go, S."
"Okay," Serena concedes gently. "I'll call y-"
Blair hangs up on her best friend and drops the phone onto the bed. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she wills herself not to cry. Her bottom lip trembles and her knees feel weak, but she can't break down right now. She takes a few deep breaths and counts to ten, before opening her eyes once again feeling as calm as she possibly can right now.
She steps forward and quickly zips her luggage before picking up her jacket and pulling it on. Tucking her bag under her arm, she gets her train ticket from the bedside table and reaches for her phone, when an idea occurs to her. Maybe it's time she goes off the radar for a while. She doesn't need Gossip Girl, Serena or her family breathing down her neck right now, it's just making this so much harder than it has to be.
She drops her cell phone into a trash bin on her way out of the hotel and immediately hails herself a taxi. She needs to move quickly if she's going to stop at the bank to get enough cash to last her a few weeks before her train leaves.
TBC...? Let me know what you think. :)