Title: Silk Lines
Chapter: One
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Rating: T
Ship(s): nate/blair, chuck/blair
Summary: It's them together, as it should be – as it should have been years ago.
–
New York, New York; 2009
The fourth of July this year is too cold to do much of anything.
It strikes Blair a little suspicious because the New York summer is never like this. It's usually hot and humid and sticky, much of which what she and Bass are, Chuck will joke.
But the heat-less sun doesn't seem to like the city much this season, and the rain and wind find company with the streets and tall buildings instead.
Blair doesn't take it as a sign, but she's sure she should.
Chuck finds her leaning against the window pane of his room as the fireworks break over the inky Manhattan sky.
"What are you up to tonight?" He asks her, turning down the lights.
Everyone is uptown, wanting to see what celebration the rest of the city has planned, however, Blair is in a strange mood and does not quite feel like going out like she has normally done.
"You're looking at it," says Blair before she breathes against the cold glass and watches the condensation vaporize. "You?"
Grinning smugly, Chuck parrots her own words as he stares at her from the edge of the bed. "You're looking at it."
She turns and gazes at the colors flow over him and make his eyes twinkle in shades of blue and orange.
–
Bridgeport, Connecticut; 2010
The picture of Blair that Nate secretly carries around in his head is a lot different than the girl passed out on the bed in the small bedroom of the Charlotte.
To him, she's a girl draped head to toe in Chanel and she's enveloped in that air of purpose and confidence he knows so well, but the young woman in front of him barely resembles Blair in her white tee, Burberry shorts and her hair piled haphazardly on her head.
He wonders where her dresses and her designer sandals and her headbands are, and guiltily Nate ponders the thought of where her heart is because he hasn't seen it in a long time.
Or maybe he has seen it sewn on a sleeve that isn't his.
Nervously, Nate glances at her resting form in hope that she might wake up and prove him wrong.
–
New York, New York; 2010
Chuck starts to get headaches all the time. That's when she starts to get worried.
"Relax, Blair." He rolls his eyes irritably. "I'm fine."
At first she thinks it's because he's working too late and isn't getting enough sleep, but the pain seems to be getting more severe by the day.
Blair keeps urging him to see a doctor to no avail until finally Chuck relents as he rolls his eyes and puts on his coat and tries to give her a goodbye kiss.
"No," she swats him away with her hand, "go to the doctor and come back and then we'll kiss."
"Quit acting so paranoid, Waldorf. I'm sure it's nothing."
"I know, but I'm allowed to worry."
–
Bridgeport, Connecticut; 2014
One cloudy summer morning Nate receives a phone call from his former best friend.
Chuck, for all this whimsy and lack of focus has grown into a serious man, Nate realizes, because it's one of the things he takes a lot of blame for.
That and other things.
"I took some time off work," Chuck tells him, his tone very deliberate. "I did it because I want to come and visit you for a few days."
"Yeah, okay."
Nate's response is out before he can fully process Chuck's words. The only thing that makes it through him is that a man wants to come see him – a man he hasn't seen in years.
He wants to backtrack and maybe erase some of the desperation that must have lingered in his tone, but Nate doesn't see the point because soon Chuck asks about sailing and the local scene and the girls in town like the two never stopped being friends.
Before they say goodbye, Nate gingerly asks him to pass along his greetings to Blair, because she's still in the city and he knows it.
His stomach drops when Chuck informs him that he hasn't seen Blair in months and strangely Nate believes him.
As he hangs up and goes about the tasks of checking on the Charlotte, Nate finally notices his second nature of reseting the coffee machine, latching the locks and turning off the television.
He knows they are necessary and predictable things, but all his subconscious is thinking about is how everything in his life is also like this.
And if he's being entirely honest with himself, he knows exactly why.
–
New York, New York; 2010
Blair glances uneasily at the white walls and the smell of antiseptic makes her nauseous as she grips Chuck's hand so tight she's afraid she might break it.
"I have a tumor, Blair."
"How bad is it?" She forces her voice not to tremble, because she has to be strong for Chuck. For herself, really, because part of her knows he is strong enough for them both.
The doctor, whose name neither of them can remember, taps his pen on his clipboard before sliding it atop his ear, burying the utensil in his aging gray hair as if it's procedure.
"We caught it late. The tumor is situated in a spot in the brain that is impossible to operate on."
Blair feels Chuck's eyes trying to find hers while the voice in her throat falters and she starts having a terrible time breathing.
"How bad is it?" She has to repeat herself because her throat is so dry that it's suffocating her.
"There are still some more tests to perform and treatments we can do." The doctor finally states. The wrinkles on his face sag heavily as he clenches his lips in between his teeth. "We think it's terminal."
Blair's body shrivels forward while Chuck stays frozen in his seat. Her mind goes blank and her heart races frantically and fuckfuckfuck, some doctor has just informed her that her boyfriend is dying, and she doesn't even know his name or what in the hell to do.
–
Bridgeport, Connecticut; 2010
When Blair wakes up she feels crisp bedsheets, the smell of polished wood, and the sound of slow, soft rock swirl all together around her.
And when she eventually opens her eyes, they glisten in both the familiarity and dimness of the small bedroom of the Charlotte.
She knows this boat almost as well as she knows its owner.
As Blair scrambles to sit up in the bed, she watches Nate come down the stairs outside the room and in through the door, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees that she is awake.
The music stops and the stereo in the corner starts up again with a new song, something a little faster this time. Blair suspects that whatever moment they'd been having is over, so she stands up and goes to leave.
"You okay?" Nate asks as he stares at her.
"No." Blair answers weakly, closing her eyes momentarily as she approaches him. She doesn't know how to say it, so she just does, all in one breath, "Chuck's sick, Nate. He has cancer."
The realization of her own words does not cease to stop the wetness in her eyes. The entire point of Blair coming here was so she could find the comfort and solace she remembers with Nate, even though they haven't spoken since their break up.
Blair ignores her rational side saying her logic is unreasonable and a load of bullshit.
Apparently, from the looks of things, Nate thinks so too, because he is looking at her with his face so devoid of expression that it makes her seriously uncomfortable and almost regret driving all the way here to see him, of all people.
The stereo changes songs again, and Blair thinks she sees the truth snap into focus before his eyes.
"We'll go back to the city tomorrow, Blair."
Here comes trouble.
