No copyright infringement intended…
It's a one-shot. I guess. (Might return to it later , though, who knows.) I'd love for someone to r&r this, though I know it's probably a bit weird. Concrit highly appreciated. So, pretty please? I'm no good at baking, but: for you I'll try? :)
He did it for his friend. His best friend.
He kept his mouth shut—though he wanted to scream.
He willed his hot tears away before they could spill.
He forced his legs to work and prayed that his knees wouldn't buckle underneath him.
He walked up straight to where his nightmare began and faced it unflinchingly. He didn't look away, didn't even close his eyes, just stared at the bright unreal pool of blood.
He tore his eyes away eventually and turned to gaze over to where Nate stood not far to the side. A cop was attending to him, asking questions maybe, Chuck didn't know.
He ordered his brain to process all pieces of information; the blood on the floor, Nate's desperate phone call earlier, the devastated look on his face… The things he had said.
Chuck hadn't wanted to come here.
Now he wanted to run. He did not want to be here, didn't want to see the blood and know it was hers.
Blair's.
Oh God, how he needed a drink—make that ten. Or twenty, better still.
He told his body to move, forced himself to walk over to his friend. He even managed to put the usual swagger into his gait.
"Nathaniel," he heard himself rasp, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. Nate's gaze, glazed and yet unsettlingly focused, hit him unawares.
So it is true, he thought, as if he honestly had needed a confirmation.
"Chuck." His name, a choked half-whisper, desperate and full of a pain mirroring his own. But it was not the time to allow his hurt to show. It was not the time.
… Even her blood looked as beautiful, as rich as she…
Blair's blood.
No, she couldn't be—
He couldn't allow his thoughts to stray there. He couldn't let that happen. He had to be strong.
He had to be Chuck.
For Nate, he had to be Chuck.
For Blair.
Always only Chuck.
"Oh God, Chuck."
There he was, putting first one hand on his friend's shoulder, then the other, shooting the cop a meaningful glance. Leave us alone. You may ask your questions later…
He had to remain standing. He had to stay strong.
Yet feeling Nate's weight suddenly lean into him, he couldn't help but let go just as well.
He could no longer hold back the tears. He could no longer stifle a cry.
He could no longer stand on his own.
And leaning on each other, the shared support was eventually all that kept the both of them upright…
That, and the tiny sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, despite the gruesome events of that night…
But hope was not an emotion Chuck allowed himself to harbor…
… up until tonight that was.
For this was Blair…
thank you for reading!