A/N: This is just a little one-shot, inspired by the song "Signs" by Bloc Party (the song was actually featured on Gossip Girl, on the episode "O Brother, Where Bart Thou?" when Chuck's father dies. I really loved the song, so I thought I'd write a little something for it. I hope you enjoy it! And I don't own any of the characters or the show [Gossip Girl] or the song or lyrics [Bloc Party].

Blair sent the note, nearly ecstatic. She couldn't believe it was really happening, or even that she had the guts to go through with it. She had been considering the idea for a while now, but hadn't really decided until their conversation a few days ago.

"It's so hard to be stuck in this city," Chuck groaned. "It's miserable, and all anyone ever does is follow you around, seeing when you're going to screw up!"

"It's not so bad," said Blair. "There are ways to get away from all those people, you know."

"Yes, but they're always going to be there," he said. "And I can't stand knowing that. I can't stand knowing that they're just waiting for me to do something wrong, make a bad move. They're just waiting," he finished helplessly.

She fidgeted a bit. She hated to see him this worked up. She know how much he hated it. "What about a vacation?" she suggested timidly.

Chuck laughed. "A vacation would be nice. I just don't know if I'll ever have the time."

"Well, you'll make time," said Blair, already having the idea half-formed in her mind.

So she had gotten out early the next day, found herself a man with a boat, who was willing to loan them the boat for their to Paris for a few weeks. Normally they would just go by plane, but she thought a boat would be much more romantic and relaxing, and Chuck needed both.

But she had wanted to keep it a surprise up until the very end. She had made all of the arrangements, packing their bags and having them already on the boat. Now all that was left was to tell him.

She had decided on a note. She loved notes, and they were always so romantic. It made her think of the secret loves that had happened so long ago, before there was such a thing as computers and texting and Gossip Girl. She spent a while thinking of how to say it, trying to find a way to be romantic, but finally she just settled.

Dear Chuck, Meet me at the pier at ten tonight. I've planned a trip, and we're going away together. I've taken care of everything- just meet me there. I love you. –B.

She headed out to the boat, the cool air around her making her head dizzy. She loved winter and the crisp air that it came with. She checked around, making sure everything was in its place, and she talked with the boat owner for a bit, making sure he had finished all the paperwork needed for her to take the boat.

The man was just getting off the boat when Blair saw someone coming nearer. "Chuck!" she yelled, waving her hand excitedly…so excitedly that she lost her balance and fell into the icy water below.

All she remembered was a sharp pain that stung the back of her head, and then everything was black.

"Two ravens in the old oak tree

And one for you and one for me

And bluebells in the late December

I see signs now all the time"

Chuck could hardly breath. He had been the first one called, other than Eleanor. He knew he should have called Nate and Serena to tell them, but he couldn't. They would find out soon enough, and he couldn't deal with it right now.

He had been out to dinner when he heard the news. The local police had found her, and they knew enough to call Eleanor, who had then called him.

That moment had been hours ago, but he couldn't remember what he had been doing since then. He didn't know where he was, but he knew it was very far away from the restaurant he'd been eating at. He'd been walking for hours, but he didn't care. There was nothing that mattered anymore, not with this huge hole that had been ripped through his heart.

It all seemed so wrong. It was wrong. This would never happen, this could never happen. He looked around him for a sign, any kind of proof that what he had heard had been a lie, or that this was just an awful, awful nightmare.

He saw nothing except the trees and the light of the dawn in the distance. There was no one around here, no one strolling, no one to watch him, no one to tell him that it wasn't true.

He looked up at the trees above him and saw two birds. He stood there watching them for a while, not being able to focus on anything but them. They were ravens- her favorites. She always liked them, she said, because they seemed mysterious, and even though they seemed bad sometimes, people never really gave them the chance to prove themselves as anything. She loved that they knew that and that they still managed to make themselves known in a crowd. Everyone saw the ravens, everyone watched the ravens. That was how she felt.

He'd always wondered if she had liked them because they were like her. People got the impression she was bad, that she was something to be feared. And maybe she was. But she never tried to be. And she had always longed for the chance to be something different. But the mystery, the presence that they had- that was the same. She'd always had that.

He saw the two ravens together, and wondered vaguely what their lives were like. Were they together? Were they in love? Did they find each other through all the mess? Did they know that they would always love each other?

The ravens flew away, this time bringing his attention to a small patch of flowers, growing in a small patch of grass near the tree's roots. He bent down to look at them, inspecting them. They were bluebells.

"Why do you think they call them bluebells, Chuck?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said, giving her a small smirk. "Maybe because they're blue and they look like bells?"

She grimaced at him. "Don't be so uncreative. I think they're called bluebells because of society."

"Society? What kind of a namesake is that?" he scoffed.

"Well, there were blue-bloods, weren't there? In New York? And there were the Southern Belles. And everyone loved them. And so when they planted flowers here, they named them after them. The blue-bloods and the belles. The bluebells."

"That…"

She waited expectantly for him to finish.

"Is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," he finished, grinning.

"Chuck Bass, just because I can be creative doesn't mean it's ridiculous!" she screeched at him, trying not to let him see the smile that played on her lips.

"If you say so," he said. He picked up a flower and tucked it in her hair. "Well, then, here's a bluebell for my bluebell."


"The last time we slept together

There was something that was not there

You never wanted to alarm me

But I'm the one that's drowning now"

He wandered around like a madman for hours and hours, looking back, trying to think if he could have ever seen it coming.

It was a suicide, the police had said. She had been found in the water, dead. She had drowned. They had no reason why she had been there, and there was no sign of foul play. If it were anyone else, Chuck would've agreed that it was suicide.

But this wasn't anyone else. This was Blair, and she couldn't have done it. She wouldn't have done it. Not to him.

There had seemed to be nothing out of order in the past few weeks, nothing that had scared him, nothing that made him think that something was amiss.

But the more he thought about it, the more he recalled that she had been distracted lately, the less inclined she had been to make future plans. Should he have forseen what was happening then? Should he have been able to tell?

If it had been her intention all along, she had intended that he never find out. She wanted to leave him out of it, keep him away from her struggles- whatever they were.

But now, without her, it seemed like he was dying. And it hurt more badly knowing that he could've seen the signs and helped her before.

"I could sleep forever these days

'Cause in my dreams I see you again

But this time fleshed out full face

In your confirmation dress

It was so like you to visit me

To let me know you were OK

It was so like you to visit me

Always worried about someone else"

He didn't know how or when, but he found himself in his suite at the hotel. He staggered over to the bed- their bed- and slumped onto it.

The light from outside danced around him, but he quickly found himself asleep. He had been afraid to sleep before, afraid that he would wake up and all traces of her would be gone. But not he relished it. He wanted to see her again, wanted to wake up from this madness of a nightmare he was living in.

There was no rhyme or reason to the dream now. It was just images of her, floating around in his head.

He saw her now, looking back at him, wearing the white dress that he knew would be the last one she ever wore, the ring he had given her a year ago sparkling on her finger.

She smiled at him, and he smiled back, a wild and ecstatic grin at seeing her alive and well again. It had been a dream, it had all been a dream.

But now she was fading, quickly drifting off into nothingness, still smiling at him as she disappeared.

"At your funeral, I was so upset

So, so upset

In your life you were larger than this

Statuesque

I see signs now all the time

That you're not dead, you're sleeping"

He spent his days in a blur. There was nothing but tears and memories and alcohol. But none of that could fix him anymore. Nothing could fix him anymore.

Nate had found him and brought him downstairs, gotten him dressed and ready. But he wasn't ready for this. He could never be ready.

There was so much crying at the funeral. There were so many people, all sobbing, all weeping, all crying, all saying things, all moving around, all a blur to him. He could see nothing except for the casket, the casket that held her, lying so peacefully, so painlessly. She was so lovely, so wonderful to him. He never wanted to move. He wanted to stay there and watch her forever.

Hours later, when everyone had left, Nate tried to pull him away. But he wouldn't go.

"That's not her," said Nate.

"It's her," Chuck said. "She's sleeping. She's just waiting to wake up. She's going to wake up, and I have to be there. She'll be upset if I'm not there."

"Chuck." Nate's voice was calm, but he was trying to keep it together for everyone's sake. He wasn't dealing with it all very well either. "She's not coming back," he said.

"She is," said Chuck. "She's just sleeping. She's just…"

"I'm sorry," said Nate.

Chuck was unable to say anything. He looked down at his hands, where he had a handful of bluebells, and set them in her casket, taking one last look at her before he walked away.

"I'd believe in anything that brings you back home to me"

Chuck finally managed to drift off again later that night, his mind restlessly pulling up images of her, of her in the dream, of her at the funeral. The images haunted him, circling around him as reminders of the darkest thing he'd ever had to deal with.

Without her, he was truly alone in this world. He'd never had his mother, and his father had been gone for a few years now, but now she was gone.

Chuck wondered if this was how his father had felt, when his wife had died. That feeling of emptiness, of having a hole left over where the heart had been. The feeling that the world was empty now, that there was no life left in it.

It was all wrong. Everything was all wrong. This was never supposed to be how it went.

She had been the light that had made his world shine, and now she was gone.

And now it was dark.

The dreams came again, and with it, came her.

She floated towards him, smiling that smile of hers that he loved so much.

"Are you here for me?" he asked, glad to find his voice in this dream, to be able to talk to her.

"Yes," she said. She looked at him for a moment as they basked in their peaceful silence. "It's not true," she said. "I wanted you to know it wasn't true."

"What isn't true?" he asked.

"I didn't kill myself. I was on a boat. I was planning a trip for us to take together. And I was waiting for you. I had sent you a note, but you never got it. It must've gotten lost on the way. But I saw someone, someone walking towards the boat, and I thought it was you, and I stood up, and I fell, and I hit my head."

"Why didn't the police figure it out? Why didn't they look at the boat?" Chuck demanded.

"The owner was on the boat. He was checking to make sure all the papers were signed, and he saw me fall, and he got scared. He didn't want to be around. He took his boat and left."

The look of serenity on her face angered him. "How can you be okay with that? How can you be okay with him leaving you like that?"

Blair gave him a calm gaze. "He never did anything wrong. It wasn't his fault. It was just…sad."

The stood facing each other for a time. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours, days, years, even. He didn't know. All he knew was that he never wanted to stop looking at her ever again. He never wanted to stop seeing her, he never wanted to stop being with her.

Soon, though, she was fading again.

"Don't leave!" he whispered.

"I love you, Chuck."

"Please, don't leave!" he shouted. "Can't I- can't I come with you?" he asked.

She nodded. "If you want to."

"I want to," he said. He took her hand and followed her, unsure of where they going, but knowing that wherever it was would be perfect because it was with her.

A/N: I hope you liked it! I know it's a little bit sadder than most of mine, but that's kind of the idea of the song. I feel like, at this point, I should add that suicide is not the answer and to get help if you ever need it. That is just my little public announcement in case anyone ever has the thought. I feel better now. Thank for reading!