A/N: Chuck's POV


Two simple words cut through the air when Chuck reached his limo and pulled the door open, not bothering to wait for Arthur to act on his job."The Empire," he informed his driver crisply before raising the partition. There was a tinkling of ice as he threw two cubes into his glass before topping it off with a healthy (or, depending on the perspective, unhealthy) dose of liquor, finally slumping back in his seat, a grim expression clouding his features. A dark, dry smirk slithered its way across his mouth as he recalled the indignance with which Blair had fled when she saw him with soon-to-be lecturer Miss Chamberlain. And yet, the satisfaction he felt wasn't nearly as great as he thought it would be. He took pleasure in knowing he was making her skin crawl, knowing that each building block he knocked out from under her would serve to keep her in place. If he knew Blair Waldorf, it would be that that killed her. Blair Waldorf adored nothing more than climbing her way to the top and stepping on whoever she had to in order to get there. To be perpetually knocked down and kept as a lowly student with fledgling socialite prospects would drive her absolutely insane, and he looked forward to the day when that would happen. It was only fair, he mused as he took a lengthy sip from his glass. She'd taken his future and any prospect at success and happiness - why shouldn't he return the favor?

A shrill noise tore its way into his thoughts and he dug into his pocket to extract his Blackberry, promptly answering it without favoring the caller I.D. with a glance. "Chuck Bass," he said curtly in his gravelly voice.

"Chuck Bass?" a honeyed voice on the other end of the line questioned and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. Wasn't that what he'd just said? "Yes. Who, may I ask, is calling?" He was impressed with how remarkably well he was keeping his tone under control. On the off chance that this was the office of a potential business venture, he couldn't afford to lose his temper or to be sarcastic. The things he did to ensure that the Bass name would live on in the Business World for years to come.

"This is Rose Williams calling from St. Luke's-Roosevelt Hospital." He stilled instantly, his insides doing a funny, twisting thing, like they knew bad news was coming and they were trying to signal him to avoid it at all costs. "I'm listening," he said clearly. "Mr. Bass, I'm sorry to inform you," and it was clear that she was, her voice carrying a soothing lull that he suspected she had used many times on people. "But a Miss Blair Waldorf was admitted earlier after suffering injuries from a car accident."

Promptly, his formerly twisting insides turned to lead and he felt like he'd had the breath knocked out of him. "What?" he asked with incredulity. Apparently that response was not unexpected, for the woman charged on in the same soothing tone as before.

"She's been admitted into our care and woke up a few moments ago. She's asked that we contact you to inform you of the events." For one horrible, gut-wrenching moment, he wondered if this was Blair's idea of a joke. But cruel as she was, cruel as the both of them were, neither one would ever stoop so low as this. And, for another equally as horrible moment, he found himself wishing that she wascapable of this, if only so that she could, in actuality, be safe and sound tucked up on her chaise lounge, crowing with delight as her master plan fell into place.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," he said, his throat dry, before he snapped his phone shut without another word.

"Arthur," he barked, lowering the partition. "Uptown. Now. St. Luke's." St. Luke's? As he said the name he nearly grimaced - as far as he was aware of, it was a perfectly fine hospital. However, it wasn't any hospital that they were used to, and that made him doubly uneasy. If they weren't competent enough there, if they didn't… if she…. He downed the remainder of his drink in one gulp, the fire in his throat not enough to outdo the fire in his heart. Because if she…. Twice in his entire life had people that he known and cared about gotten into a car accident - the first time was his father, the second time was Serena. That left the mortality rate at fifty percent, and with the luck that he seemed to have, he wouldn't put it past himself to somehow curse Blair into falling prey to an untimely death. Damn it, Blair, don't leave me like this. The limo pulled to a stop but when Chuck glanced out the tinted windows he growled in frustration - they weren't there, they'd simply reached a stoplight.

"Arthur," he said through gritted teeth. "I will double your salary for three months and double your Holiday Bonus if you will just drive!" he demanded. As it was he rarely paid any attention to the law, but he especially wouldn't stop for some trivial little lightbulb that told him whether he could or could not get on his way to the hospital. Seconds later the car was in motion again and the West Side was speeding by his windows.

Ten minutes later he was pushing the door open before the car had pulled to an entire stop and he stepped out of the limo swiftly, slamming the door behind him and marching towards the sliding doors. In five great strides he was in front of a desk with a 'visitors' sign tacked onto it. "I need to know the room number of a Miss Blair Waldorf. Quickly, please," he stressed.

"Are you family?" they inquired with big blue eyes and he stared at them. They had to be kidding. "My name is Chuck Bass. Miss Waldorf asked that I be informed she was here, and I have to believe she did so because she wants me there. So, while you're inquiring about the status of my connection to her, you're causing a patient a great deal of distress." Perhaps that was an exaggeration - yes, although Blair had called him there, he highly doubted that his absence was distressing to her. She was probably (hopefully, God-willingly, please-oh-please) on enough pain medication to knock her out for days and wouldn't notice whether he danced the Can-Can into her room.

The person's expression soured but they promptly clicked through the computer a few times. "8002. Take this elevator to the eighth floor, take a right and head down the hall. It's the last door."He nodded before stalking away for the shining silver doors that were promptly peeling back just on time.

When he finally arrived there at her door, he lifted his hand to the handle and gripped it firmly, but he stopped there, steeling himself. Because he was… afraid. The word sounded disgusting to his mind and he wished he could take it back, but he couldn't, because he was. He was terrified of what he would find in there. He remembered seeing her stomp away from him in all her high-heeled glory, her brown eyes sparkling with that delightful fury that he loved to ignite in her. She was always more fun when she was feisty. He doubted he'd see even a trace of that when he entered the room now, and he didn't know how to see her like this. On top of that… he couldn't help but feel responsible. Because he had stolen her precious spot! She'd seen him and run, and he'd taken so much pleasure in watching her flee from his presence before. Yet it was that which may have very well gotten her into this accident. He closed his eyes tightly, overwhelmed by an onslaught of memories from the Snowflake Ball. His father could have lived if he hadn't called him to tell him about Lily and her Humphrey. Perhaps he really did have a knack for putting people into lethal situations.

Don't be such a coward.

Slowly, very slowly, he turned the handle on the door and pushed the wooden barrier open, inch by inch. First her arm came into view, then a bit more of her body, until finally all of her was revealed, looking little and… un-Blair-like against the starched sheets of the hospital bed. His jaw tightened and he knew instinctively that some of the color had drained from his face, despite the alcohol he'd downed before he came here. He opened his mouth but he found that any words he wanted to say were glued to his tongue, refusing to come off. So, he swallowed thickly and shut the door quietly behind him before walking tentatively towards the bed, his gaze falling anywhere but her face.


A/N: Next up, Chuck and Blair come face to face...