Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl or anything relating to it except my writing.

A/N: If you've read my other fics, you know that this is somewhat connected to them, but you don't have to read those ones to get this. Thanks and enjoy. *smiley

As was the usual for Nathaniel Archibald–or, really, any Upper East Side–party, the place was packed with a large number of people, definitely over the 'recommended' capacity. Nate's parents, having promised to stay out of the kids' way, had left hours ago for a night out just for themselves, as they trusted their smart boy to take care of their home.

But it was nearly midnight and the party was still raging… Well, as raging as a party consisting of 11, 12, and 13 year olds could hope to be. There were, of course, some older students that had to drop in and crash, bringing with them an assortment of restricted items ranging from drugs to alcohol, but Nate tried not to mind. If anything got too out of hand he could rein it back in, he was sure. He was practically royalty in his eighth grade class, alongside his queen and girlfriend Blair Waldorf.

Speaking of, Blair was currently dancing by the DJ, her red Christmas sweater keeping her toasty warm, not quite helpful in the smothering heat emitted by her dancing peers. Her best friend, Serena, appeared not to have a care in the world–though that was how she always seemed–as she allowed her blonde hair to come loose from its band. (They'd both sworn a pact to never, ever wear a scrunchie.) She was beautiful, and Blair herself felt like she was bloating just from being so stifled. How that could be considered fair was beyond her.

The boy that many considered to be the life of the party was leaning against the back wall of the specially cleared-out living room, his smirk in place as he surveyed the room with a bottle in hand. He didn't care much about what he let into his body, and it wasn't like he had anyone else who gave a damn. Why should he? The only decent looking thing he had been able to scrounge up from Mr. Archibald's alcohol fridge was a few bottles of strawberry Schnapps and, though Chuck preferred peach, he accepted it. Most people would've diluted or mixed it with something but it didn't really matter to him. Anything resembling alcohol was fine by him. He was just finishing his first, never getting tired of that cloyingly sweet and sugary taste. He knew he'd probably be sick later on but he could add that to his list of things he didn't pay attention to.

Everything seemed okay, Nate observed. The partiers were laughing and dancing non-stop, and that was a good sign. Earlier that day, Chuck had told him to play a random string of Christmas songs as a joke, but Blair had told him that that was a completely ridiculous and terrible idea considering such songs had been playing in stores "since, like, October, Bass-face."

Where was Nate? She got that he was the host and all but come on. She was his girlfriend. He should at least try to make the effort to see her, considering he hadn't spoken to her since, like, two hours ago. Who could be more fun than her or Serena? Who?

Okay, so, maybe accepting a bet from a 16-year-old that he could finish another bottle had been a tad impulsive. But he was Chuck Bass. His reputation was set on doing stupid things for money or otherwise and he was not about to let it sink down the drain. He'd pay the Archibalds back for the Schnapps, but there was no way he'd lose.

The curtains had been taken down, just in case, and the TV had been removed as well, along with all of the furniture in the room. Nate had nothing to worry about, really, except enjoying his party. Where was Blair? The house wasn't that big; she had to be around… or maybe Serena… He moved through the crowd and saw Chuck–staggering?–in the center of a group of older kids. "Drink! Yeah!" Nate hurried for them all, concerned, just as he felt a hand pull on his own. "Nate," he heard, "Nate, I've been looking everywhere for you."

"…for you!" Nate looked back at her as though not really quite seeing her and said, "Hold on a minute, Blair, something's going on." She drew her eyebrows together and gestured to Serena over the heads of the mob for her to come over. "Why? What is it?"

"Drink! Drink!" he could vaguely hear them all chanting. He was trying his best but this stuff was starting to taste funny and he wished he had found peach instead. "Yeah, Chuck!" Somewhere he thought Blair and Nate were talking, moving closer, Nate yelling…

"Hey! Hey!" Nate shouted as he shoved through the others. "What the hell's going on here? Chuck!" His girlfriend and Serena stood a little outside of the crowd, Serena's arms folded over her chest in obvious anger. Blair appeared stunned.

Serena moved anyone in her way out of the path to her friends. Blair, her eyes worried, was standing near a group of students possibly a couple years older than them, watching as Nate dealt with whatever shit Chuck had gotten himself into this time. He took the Captain's Schnapps from the drunken Chuck, who teetered on his feet. Springing forward and through the people around her, Serena grabbed Chuck as he went down.

"Chuck!" Nate said. He sounded far away, and Chuck squinted around himself. The bottle, his third, was ripped from his hand without ceremony and he was knocked off balance, but arms caught him before he could hit the wood, however, and Chuck was held on his feet. Blonde waves tickled his neck. Serena? "Hey…" he slurred. "If you wan'd me ull you'd ta do was as'." He tried to lean in for Serena's lips and she held him away from herself, cringing.

"Not happening," she said. Oddly enough, that wasn't the first time.

"What the hell d'you think you're doing, man?" Nate asked him before yelling at everybody else that they had to get out of his home. They all complained and swore but did so, after Serena swore back and said she'd "happily call the police on their sorry asses." She, with help from her friends, brought Chuck up to Nate's bedroom, sitting him on the bed. He rolled off, though, onto the hardwood, dead-weight.

Nate grimaced as Chuck hit the floor. Blair gathered blankets from the basket beside his bed and covered Chuck with them as best she could. Chuck's eyes opened to slits, a grin appearing.

"I'll kiss you, ins'ead," he muttered.

Blair's jaw dropped and she jumped away from him as Serena murmured, "He'll be okay, won't he?" and pushed her sweaty hair away from her face. Neither she nor Nate had heard Chuck, clearly.

"'Course he will," Nate told her confidently, though his eyes betrayed less than so.

Blair stood up straight and said dryly, "He'll be fine. Are we all sleeping here, then?"

"We only need one person to cover for him with the Captain," Serena pointed out.

"But we need to take turns making sure Chuck isn't dead."

"Not funny," Nate muttered back to Blair.

"Okay, okay. Insensitive."

"But we can't all fit on your bed," said Serena, "can we?"

"No harm in trying," Nate replied, turning red. Blair did as well and Serena grinned.

"Oh, right," she said. "Forgot you two were… uh…"

"No, no," Blair said, "it's fine. No big deal." Quickly changing the topic she asked, "Can I have a shirt to sleep in, Nate?" He gave her the one he knew she liked best on him and Serena remained in her white tank top. Blair changed in the bathroom, Serena with her, so that Nate could have his room to put on his own pajamas with only an unconscious Chuck to bear witness.

It was a quarter after 12 when all three settled into sleep. They had barely any blankets covering them, as three bodies provided more than enough warmth, and whispered to each other for a good twenty minutes before each fell into his or her own dreamscapes. However it had happened, Serena was between Nate and Blair, possibly because she knew both weren't ready to 'sleep with the other,' in a sense. Whatever it had been, Blair was thankful for it because, at three in the morning, she heard unconscious whimpers coming from the base of the bed.

She crawled off of the bed and kneeled before Chuck, who had rolled off the pillow they had provided, his legs tangled in the blankets. He appeared to be in a sort of struggle and Blair held his shoulders, gently shaking him awake. She'd had to whisper his name more than once before Chuck's dark, terrified eyes pulled open.

Blair untangled him from the blankets and took one for herself, placing it over the both of them and resettling his head again on the pillow. She set her own beside his and asked in a quiet breath, "What were you dreaming about?"

"My dad…" Chuck managed. "He was sending me away… cuz he was disappointed in me…"

Blair studied him for a moment before saying, "Go back to sleep, Chuck. He can't really do anything to you while you have us." She prayed it was true as he, comforted, seemed to believe it.

Chuck nodded slowly, mussing his brown hair further. She next saw his lips move to say, his voice sleepy, "Thanks… for staying down here with me."

Blair pulled the blanket up to cover them better. "What're friends for, genius? Now sleep."

She went to close his eyelids but his fingers wrapped around hers, holding them together. Neither he nor she spoke another word for about three more hours.

That was when Chuck was awoken by a gurgling moving up his stomach and into his mouth. He had only made it halfway to the bathroom before keeling over and throwing up all of the Schnapps he'd consumed from the night before. Blair, having been woken by Chuck's jumping to his feet, screamed, having enough sense to cover her face with the pillow to muffle it.

Nate and Serena, still in the bed with their limbs over one another's, slipped off and to Chuck, who was huddled on the floor, inches from his puddle of vomit. Blair stood, then, with her hands covering her mouth, while Nate took Chuck by the shoulders and guided him into the bathroom.

"We need to clean this up," he told the girls. "My parents won't be awake for a couple hours so go downstairs and grab the cleaning supplies." Blair remained frozen in horror, finding it hard to take in air, and so Serena took this task upon herself and hurried from the room in her silent gazelle's tread.

"Blair," said Nate. "Blair." She tore her eyes away from the pallor of Chuck's face and nodded. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah. I'm okay. Is he?"

"He will be. Help Serena, okay?"

Blair did so, feeling cold all over.

Breathe.