A near death experience can change everything. It can make a person question who they are and what they believe and who they want to be. But no matter what, in the end, they're still the same person. ChuckxBlair. Blair is mugged a few days into her summer break in France.
I don't know any French, therefore, all italics in this part are representing what would be spoken in French.
Maybe inviting Serena to come with her to Paris had been a mistake.
The idea of spending the summer in France had been to get away and escape all her problems. All she wanted to do was forget a wasted year at NYU and get over a boy who broke her heart too many times to count.
But after only five days, Blair wants to add her best friend to the list of things to forget as well.
This was supposed to be a summer of tanning, eating macaroons, and shopping while being completely carefree and simply having fun together. So far though, every night had consisted of her getting drunk while she watched Serena flirt with boy after boy until eventually disappearing with one at the end of the night, leaving Blair to find her way home alone.
She had hoped tonight would be different, but after dinner at La Rotisserie du Beaujolais followed by just a few drinks at Le Kong, Serena disappeared yet again with a brunette boy wearing a hideous maroon scarf and cheap sunglasses, clearly not realizing he was inside and it was night, while reciting french poetry that was obviously meant just to get into the blonde's panties.
Sighing, Blair rolls her eyes and spins the stem of her martini glass between her fingers. Looking bored around the room, she finds her self looking at couple after couple sipping drinks, sitting and dancing close, and whispering intimately as they gaze at each other. Her heart aches at their loving smiles and wonders how she thought a summer in the city of love was supposed to make her forget about her bass-tard ex.
She tips back the rest of her martini before quickly pulling a few bills out of her Chanel bag and dropping them onto the table. Pushing herself from the bar, she sways slightly as she stands, definitely feeling a buzz. She pulls her jacket across her shoulders and stumbles a little on her four-inch heels towards the exit.
The cool air hits her face and she crosses her arms and tightens her jacket against her chest. There are many cabs still driving the streets, but she's only a few blocks from her mother's penthouse, so she decides to walk.
Her mind wanders, and for about the millionth time over the past few weeks, she wonders what Chuck is up to at that moment. She suspects that he is wallowing in self pity, drowning himself in a sea of drugs and prostitutes, and there is some kind of sick pleasure that comes to her at the thought of him suffering without her. She doesn't even know if she should call what he did to her heartbreak, because the word seems too cliche to describe what she's been feeling. It feels as if there are only scraps of her heart left over for her to collect and somehow try to rebuild from the destruction.
What hurts the most though, is that even after all the games and lies and tears, she still misses him; from the way he would smile this certain way just for her, to the way he would hold her at night. No matter how bad she tries to forget their relationship had even existed, it still feels like a piece of her is missing.
A sudden bump against her shoulder jars her from her thoughts and makes her gasp.
"Uh! Watch where you're going," she retorts quickly with drunken annoyance, even though she was so distracted that she wasn't sure who bumped into who or even what was going on. She unexpectedly finds herself staring into the bright blue eyes of a semi-attractive man who couldn't have been much older than herself, and grins at him, not noticing how off he looks. "I'm so sorry, I.."
There's a hard jab against her side and she instantly hisses in surprise at the object crushing painfully against her ribs. An unmistakeable click overwhelms her senses and immediately she is thrown into an unbelievable panic where she feels as if she can barely breathe.
"Keep your mouth shut or I'll shoot."
She whimpers as hot breath brushes against her ear and his sweaty fingers curl around her arm, guiding her staggering into an alley a few feet away. It all seems to happen so quickly that she can barely comprehend it. Her back hits the brick building he shoves her against and her attacker immediately begins robbing her of her expensive accessories. He takes her Chanel bag from her in a second before harshly grabbing and pulling the diamond chocker around her throat so hard it cuts into her neck and makes her cry out before, thankfully, finally snapping in half. She doesn't fight back, not even when he commands her to give him the ruby ring her father had given her when he moved away when she was sixteen; she's too smart and too scared and relieved that he's finally taken all he can from her.
He steps back and examines her as her heart pounds out of control in fear.
"Take off your dress."
Her stomach turns sickly and she swallows against her overwhelming terror. "No," she answers as strongly as she can, unable to help the way her voice trembles.
His brow furrows in anger and he briskly pulls his concealed gun out of his pocket and points it at her once again. "I said take off your dress."
She stands paralyzed in horror, both at the sight of the gun and at his command, tears silently starting to slide down her cheeks. Blair suddenly can't breathe but somehow she manages to shake her head just the slightest.
Immediately his eyes turn dark at her refusal and burn into her maddeningly. He furiously closes the distance between them, enraged. The metal pistol digs harshly into her stomach as he violently pulls at the strap of her dress with his free hand. His mouth attaches to her neck and he sickly presses himself against her.
She pushes against him, but he's stronger and he has a weapon, so it almost seems hopeless. But she is Blair Waldorf, and she refuses to give up like this. She shoves harder against his shoulders and within seconds, and without thinking, she's kicking and scratching with everything she has.
In an instant all the air rushes out of her. The world around her explodes with noise before becoming eerily still and silent. There's a horrific, burning pain spreading through her body and her fingers press against her side instinctively. She looks down to see dark blood seeping between her manicured fingers, and she's so overwhelmed with pain and panic that it takes moments for her to realize she's been shot. She gasps desperately for a breath as she looks up, just as the man turns and begins running down the alley as fast as he can to get away from her.
She knows in that moment that she is going to die.
Everything spins around her and she staggers back, before helplessly falling to the ground.
Her watery eyes focus briefly on the starry sky above, and her last thought before she falls unconscious, is how happy and warm and safe she'd felt when she had fallen asleep in Chuck's arms, watching those same stars at her father's chateau the summer before. She wishes she could go back there now.
–––
His eyes slowly drift open to the dull red sun hanging low in the sky and burning into his hazel eyes. He flinches and turns away, burying himself under layers of starchy, expensive sheets, before a buzzing fills the room and he realizes what woke him up in the first place; his cell phone. He lets out a heavy breath and pokes his head out from under the fabric, brown unkempt hair sticking in every which way.
Staring at the offending object, he wills it to stop ringing. He feels slightly on edge as the phone stops ringing for a split second, before instantly starting to ring again. He doesn't even want to know who's calling. He hasn't heard from anyone in a couple weeks, and honestly, he doesn't want to. All he wants to do is fall a little deeper into his pool of self pity and scotch, and hopefully one day he'll finally drown.
Over and over he listens as his phone continually rings, even after the sun has set and he is cloaked in darkness in his Prague hotel room until he just can't take it anymore. Throwing off the covers, he stalks across the messy room in search of the offending object.
Snatching up the phone, he grunts into the speaker, "Hello?"
"Chuck."
Instantly he recognizes the voice of his best-friend and he sighs and slumps back tiredly into an overstuffed hotel arm chair. "Nathanial.." he drawls, "Calling to thank me for leaving you my little black book?"
Nate sighs on the other side of the line. "No, that's not why I'm calling."
"Well you better not waste it. That book is priceless. Some of the girls in there can do the dirtiest.."
"Chuck?" he interrupts, his voice hesitant.
"What?" he questions, reaching out for the forgotten tumbler of scotch on the coffee table. "Did something happen between you and Serena again or something?"
"No, man. It's.." he stumbles over the words, knowing what he has to say will break his best friend. "It's about Blair."
He swallows painfully at the sound of her name, before shaking his head to try to clear it. "She wants nothing to do with me, Nate" he tells his friend dejectedly. "Whatever she's doing is her own business."
"She's in the hospital, Chuck."
Chuck instantly feels a sick weight drop in his stomach. "What?" he chokes out, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. He silently listens, horrified, to the few scattered details his best friend knows before wordlessly hanging up the phone.
He sits stock still, letting the news sink into him in the deafening silence of his hotel room. Clenching his fists in anger, he lets his eyes sweep across the table before him, containing all the proof of what his life had become; white powder, pills, and various bottles of alcohol. In one sweeping motion, he sends it all to the floor with a crash, the weight of the world crushing down on his shoulders.
Picking back up the phone, he instantly starts barking orders to his staff. "Have the private jet prepared within the hour. No exceptions."
He has to make sure she is okay, no matter how bad of a place their relationship is in right now. She is his everything; he's known since that moment in the limo to the second he bought the ring he never got the chance to use, but still carries in his pocket everyday. Without her, he is nothing, and he's determined to do anything in his power to ensure she survives.
TBC...?