AN: Eva who?
Thanks to bethaboo for being a fantabulous beta, and to everyone who reviewed, alerted, and/or favorited! Teasers have been sent out with review replies, and I'll continue to send out teasers to anyone who's reviewed:)
December 2010
The room is bathed in near darkness, the heavy curtains drawn against the expansive windows. The few shafts of dying afternoon light illuminate the bottles on the ground and tint his dark brown hair golden. She squints just enough to make out a joint on the table and the lingerie draped over the table.
The stench that permeated the room wafts under her nostrils, causing her to wrinkle her nose in distaste as she steps over shards of broken glass.
His eyes are closed, his head tipped back against the side of the couch. His profile, she thinks, is quite possibly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. His angular jaw slopes down to an exposed chest, the once pastel blue button-up now missing a few buttons and sporting a few stains. His sleeves are rolled up haphazardly, exposing strong, bloodied forearms. His left palm is open to the sky, an angry red gash slicing diagonally through the snow of his skin. And his right palm is closed around a dangling bottle, its contents drained.
"Go away Serena,"
His eyes remain closed, and she wonders (hopes) that if he were sober, if the stench weren't masking her telltale violet perfume, that he would know- "It's not Serena,"
His hearing hasn't been impaired, she thinks drily as she watched him struggle to his feet. Too fast, she realizes, as he crumpled back down to the couch.
"What are you doing here?"
The question is simple, the delivery complex. His voice is harsh and raspy, a shadow of the deep and sensual intonation she usually associated with Chuck Bass. His lips are taut, pressed together in a thin line.
His eyes, however, are wide with hope.
"You're a mess," she tells him instead, breaking free from his unwavering gaze by looking to the left. To the bedroom.
"It's empty," he says, effectively answering her unspoken question. "What are you doing here?"
Chuck takes a few steps forward, his world teetering around the petite brunette in front of him.
"Serena told me," she tells him breathlessly, in part because she had been holding her breath since entering the room. "Chuck, I didn't-"
"Serena talks too much." He dismisses her concern with a wave of his hand as his world spun once more.
"Chuck," She is pleading. What for? He doesn't understand. "Talk to me."
"About?" he sneers finally giving in to the spinning room and collapsing on the couch once more.
"You were shot."
"The stinging pain through my abdomen tells me as much." He retorts easily, wondering who the hell had chosen such uncomfortable couches to furnish his apartment.
"I didn't-no one..."
"I didn't want you to know."
"Why?" she whispers, her eyes tracing his fallen form with quiet reverence.
"I don't need your pity, Blair." He scoffs. "Go back to your perfect fairytale with your perfect fucking Prince."
Blair shook her head vehemently. "I can't leave you like this. God knows you'd probably choke on your own vomit."
"Like I said, I don't need your pity-" But then she is next to him, close, too close, and through his own stench he can smell the faint whispers of violets. It is too much, to have her close for the first time in months, even if he was watching her through half-lidded eyes. His anger dissipates with alarming speed, and it takes all his willpower not to kiss her.
The fact that he was also barely able to keep his eyes open may have helped as well.
"Come on Bass," she grunts, heaving him up as best she could. From Serena's party days, she knew that a person weighed about twice as much as normal when drunk. Chuck was no exception, his larger frame overwhelming her petite one as she struggled under his weight.
"Why are you here?" he asks again, his nose now nuzzled into her hair.
"Serena-"
"No," he growls. "Why are you really here, Blair?"
"I don't know," she admits honestly "Come on Bass, let's get you to bed."
"Will you be joining me?"
She shakes her head in mock repulsion as she helps him struggle to his feet and Chuck knows that he is not at the top of his game.
It takes them fourteen minutes, several falls, and more than a few lewd comments, but eventually Blair gets him into bed, his shoes off, blankets tucked around him as a mother would for a child.
Blair takes one last glance at his sleeping face; at the gentle slope of his shoulders; at the rise and fall of his chest.
She could swear she heard his voice as she closed his bedroom door.
I miss you.
…
When he wakes the next morning, the pounding headache blocks out almost everything. Almost. She is present in the air, the pillow beside him, the morning sunlight that filtered through the blinds. She had settled into his skin, the lingering violets invading his mind.
Blair was here is the only thought in his tired mind as he stumbles towards the bathroom.
…
"Oh good, you've showered." The waiting blonde says with glee. "I was beginning to think you'd completely forgone the concept of personal hygiene."
He shoots her a purposeful glare, marching towards the cupboard, in search of-
"There's an aspirin and glass of water," Serena nods towards the aforementioned items that sat in the middle of the marble counter.
Grunting in response, Chuck downs the two pills with ease, Serena's bright smile doing nothing to alleviate his mood.
"Mom's worried about you," Serena offers with another brilliant smile, which he supposes was meant to lighten his stormy expression.
"She's not my mother." He growls back, his heart giving a painful twitch at the thought of his real-or was she even real?-mother.
"Right," Serena says, undeterred as always. "But she's worried about you. We're having dinner again tonight and-"
"Lily has no reason to worry," Chuck snarls. "And I have plans tonight."
"Chuck," Serena warns, "She's genuinely worried about you. You don't go out, you apparently don't sleep, and when you do go out it's a wonder you manage to find your way home at all. What with the surger-"
"Right," he shoots back with a laugh of derision "The shooting. I am eternally grateful to you for telling Blair about something I wished to keep from her."
"She would have found out eventually," Serena reasons. "Besides, she had a right-"
"She lost her right to know when she told me to never speak to her again." Chuck replies darkly.
"Can you blame her?" Serena asks gently. "You'd just slept with-"
"Don't say her name," Chuck said warningly, and it seemed that he had the same aversion to the girl's name as Blair.
"She was hurt," Serena tells him in that all-knowing way of hers that Chuck found as irritating as her cheery voice. "She's still hurt."
"I don't need her pity," Chuck retorts angrily. "She's got the Prince, she's moved on."
Serena only shook her head sadly. "Chuck, she's still hurt. You betrayed her. You sold her out for your hotel. And when she forgave you, you were sleeping with-"
"And?" Chuck cuts in, his voice steel.
"And you still love each other," Serena reasons. "Even if you don't want to believe it. You both still love each other."
"I'll always love her," he says fiercely. "There was never any doubt about it. Even when a bullet was burrowing itself into my side, even when I was lying in a pool of my own blood."
Serena nods emphatically, having known from the moment Blair had come back with Marcus 2.0 that she was not over Chuck in the least.
"What happened that night?" Serena asks, uninhibited curiosity seeping into her voice. "You refused to tell anyone when you came back. You disappeared for six months, Chuck."
He studies Serena closely; knowing that every tiny scrap of information he fed her would be passed on to her best friend.
"It's none of your business," he spits out instead.
He turns on his heel, ignoring the ringing in his ears as he stomped towards his bedroom, leaving a dumbfounded Serena in the middle of an empty kitchen.
…
November 2010
"Charles!" The cry is heard round the airport as Lily nearly assaults him. He winced as she hugged him tightly, partly from the odd display of affection, and partly from the still slightly painful wound.
"I didn't expect a welcome home committee," he comments dryly. But the sight of the three van der Woodsens and Nate gives him a faint reminder of family.
"We were worried about you man." Nate says as he steps forward, clapping Chuck on the back. "You disappeared for six months."
"Unfinished business," Chuck says with a well-practiced smirk. "I apologize for causing unnecessary worry."
"Please," Serena says with a roll of her eyes. "It was a welcome respite."
But the smile she gives him says otherwise.
"Well I'm glad to have you back," Eric jumps in. "I was missing my usual Wii-opponent."
"I played Wii with you!" Nate says, his eyes wide with faux-hurt.
"And you let me win every time," Eric responds with a smirk that was eerily similar to Chuck's.
"I didn't," Nate colors, and the group burst out in laughter.
"It's quite alright Nathaniel," Chuck says with a comforting pat on his friend's back. "Not everyone can excel at everything like I can. Just be glad you're pretty."
The laughter from the group is almost enough to distract him from a brunette exiting the building, her brown curls twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck. His gaze travels over her grey trench coat and navy flats, the trademark white headband encrusted with jewels. He watches intently as she steps into a waiting car, without looking back.
On the other side of the group, Serena observes her stepbrother as he watches her best friend. She knew Blair would be here, if only to see with her own eyes that Chuck was alive. Her best friend had lived in denial the past six months, refusing to say or hear his name, as she had done with Jenny. Blair had thrown herself into schoolwork at Columbia, had even attempted to fall in love with a real-life Prince that even Serena knew was only Marcus 2.0. Only apparently this Prince was head-over-heels in love with Blair and not sleeping with his cougar of a stepmother.
Serena wonders, as she watched the expressions flit across Chuck's face, if it was possible that a Chuck & Blair reunion was on the horizon.
If Chuck's expression and Blair's hidden presence meant anything at all, it was that their reunion might have been inevitable, but that didn't mean it was going to be easy.
…
"Charles?"
He looks up in surprise, the glass of scotch halfway to his lips as Lily steps into the penthouse.
"Lily," he replies easily. "I agreed to your dinner, must you really-"
"I came to discuss this."
The file she tosses at the table in front of him is full to bursting, to say in the least.
"I haven't shared most of its contents with Serena and Eric. But I wanted to discuss something with you first."
He looks at her with an expression of disinterest, masking the fear that gnaws at his stomach.
"There's hospital records in there, Chuck."
"How?"
"Your PIs are good," Lily admits. "But they only found out you were in the hospital a month after you had left. Chuck-"
By now, he knows that it is futile to attempt lies. He can only prepare for the outcome of this.
"I was mugged and shot in an alleyway in Prague. There's nothing more to it."
He dismisses her as easily as he dismisses his feelings.
…
"Chuck." Serena stands in the entryway, as he regards her from his usual place at the bar, customary glass of scotch in hand.
"Serena." He mimics the tone of her voice with apparent irritation. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I wanted to talk to you about Blair."
"Ah," his eyes darken slightly. "I take it you knew she was at the airport as well."
Serena nods, "When you were gone she-"
"Was incredibly distraught?" he asks, though Serena could tell the comment was half-hearted.
"She's dating someone," Serena says instead.
"Who?" he asks, as though he were commenting on the weather. "Another rugby player? Or perhaps another Lord?"
"A Prince" Serena admits sheepishly.
"That must be a dream for her," Chuck replies darkly. "Living out her fairytale."
"She didn't want to believe you were gone," Serena explains. "She denied it as much as she could, pretending everything was okay."
Serena stands up from the bar, having said her piece.
"If she thinks I'm just going to let her-"
"I just thought you should know." She tells him quietly as she pressed the button for the elevator.
…
"You told Serena?" he hisses, and Lily looks on calmly, the picture of serene tranquility.
"Yes. Eric, too."
"Why?" he rasps out.
"They don't understand, Charles. They deserve to understand."
"It wasn't your secret to tell," he murmurs. "I don't need their pity."
"You'll understand in time," she tells him sadly. "Chuck, you can't keep denying that you have a family-and this is what families do. They support each other. You don't have to take everything upon yourself."
He nods his affirmation, and Lily knows that this is the best response she can hope for.
But inside, he is reeling with the aftereffects of the one word.
Family.
…
"Waldorf," he says as he sidled up next to her at the bar, the first time he had caught her alone that night. The first time the dark-haired blue-eyed Prince had not been attached to her side.
"Chuck," she returns primly. "I see you've returned."
"Drop the act Waldorf," he tells her with a smirk. "I know you were at the airport the day I arrived. Tell me, did it pain you to leave without saying hello?"
"I simply wanted to make sure the rumors were true," Blair retorts haughtily. "Apparently being missing for six months does create some sort of interest."
"So you were worried about me." He has always reveled in his sole ability to make her squirm.
"Only for Eric and Lily's sake," she shoots back. "Lily was in hysterics for most of the time, and Eric-"
She trailed off, and he knew what she was referring to. Jenny had left, and Chuck had left, causing the slightest of downward spirals for the littlest van der Woodsen. He had lashed out in anger at first, blaming Chuck for everything that had happened with Jenny. But when months had passed with nary a word form Chuck, Eric had spiraled into depression once more.
Only this time, it appeared that Serena and Lily had learned the importance of being there.
"You'll always love me," Chuck tells her confidently. "No matter how many Princes or Lords you have to distract you. It'll always be me in the end."
"You assume too much." Blair bites out venomously. "You think you can just disappear for six months and I'll just fall back into your arms when you come back?"
"No," he tells her with a smirk. "That would make it too easy. That's not like you at all, Waldorf. You like it, don't you? Me chasing after you, scheming my way back into your life."
"You're wrong," she retorts. "I meant what I said in front of that hospital Chuck."
"You didn't mean it then, and you don't mean it now. I can see it, in the way you prance around with that Prince on your arm. This is just to make me jealous, isn't it?"
"Have you really misled yourself into thinking that I dated someone for six months solely to make you jealous when you decided to return?"
"I didn't disappear for the sake of disappearing, Blair. I had something important-"
"I don't care." She punctuates each word with the fiercest glare she could manage. "You are no longer of any importance to me."
And she walks away, leaving him too brokenhearted to notice that there was a quaver in her words.
That was the first night in a while that he drank himself into oblivion, completely disregarding the doctor's advice.
…
December 2010
Chuck stands, back to the doors as he listens to the elevator make its way back down to the lobby, leaving the penthouse quiet once more.
Her scent still lingers in the recesses of his mind, the way she had felt against him as she supported his weight.
Chuck closes his eyes as his palm screams out in pain, the cut from the previous night still fresh. He had smashed the bottle flat against the wall, relishing in the pain that resulted from the glass cutting into his palm.
But now, as he makes his way swiftly to his closet, he forgot-if only for a moment-the phantom pain in his abdomen, the stinging pain of his palm.
Because there, buried under pastel bowties and wrapped almost lovingly in his old scarf, held the reason why he had been missing for six months.
He unwraps the scarf slowly; the layers of red, navy, and white falling away like autumn's leaves. A tiny black box sits in the palm of his hand, a new box he had purchased once he had finally found the object he had been searching for.
Chuck cracks the box open with deliberate slowness, revealing the diamond within.
The glittering, six-carat diamond that he had risked his life for in an alleyway in Prague.
The diamond that he had searched for, blindly following leads for the three-and-a-half months he had after leaving the hospital.
When he had found it, there had been no victory cry, no smile of jubilation. Instead, there had been a broken sigh of tired relief.
tbc
