A/N: Well, I am extremely depressed – and no, this should not be incentive for you to stop reviewing XD – and so I am writing. Heh. *sigh* It just majorly sucks that my fic Flashback is basically utter fail in the mind of all my reviewers. =( Anyways, I am so very grateful for the positive feedback for this fic. I hope it won't die when it's finished. ;p Enjoy.

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

….

Ch.10—A Little Hate, A Little Love

"I'm telling you, he was here."

Serena looked at her a bit suspiciously. "He wasn't, B."

"He was," she insisted. The blonde sighed and sat down in the chair across from her.

"He wasn't," she retorted. Blair looked about to speak again before she continued. "I made sure he couldn't get in. I took all the precautions." Blair frowned.

"What do you mean?" It wasn't as if Chuck being there was the number one thing on her list. In fact, for all intents and purposes, the last thing she should have wanted was him to be anywhere near her. The shaky fear she'd experienced when she was last around him was hard to forget.

"Well," Serena crossed one leg over the other. "For starters, I gave all the management his physical description, his name, all the names he's gone under in the past, and his general mannerisms. Not to mention he's not family, so he could hardly get past security." She smiled a little, proud of her accomplishments, but when she looked back at her best friend, she did not feel so encouraged. The blank stare that greeted her was anything but reassuring.

"That's it?" she asked.

Serena squirmed uneasily. "I thought that was pretty good," she said, sounding less than convinced. Blair shook her head. "What?" Serena asked. Blair scoffed and looked up at her.

"He's Chuck Bass," she said, as if that explained everything, and in reality, it did. He could get past any barrier, achieve any goal he set his mind to, sometimes he went overboard – her situation case in point – but it only proved all the more that Serena's attempts to keep him away were weak at best.

She blinked. "So…" she began, starting to feel her way through the new information. "you're saying…"

"—that he was here last night," she finished. Serena's gaze flashed to hers.

"He wasn't," she said again. "Nate verified with me that he hasn't left his room all week."

Blair studied her for a long time, not saying anything. For some reason the idea of Chuck cooped up in his suite all week had a certain pleasing ring to it. He hadn't gone out, hadn't done anything. Of course, it was entirely possible that he just hadn't done anything because it was impossible to torture her now that she was placed elsewhere. Still, it gave her a bubble of happiness. Maybe it would be in her best interest to pretend she believed Serena's words, but the peonies sitting in the corner didn't fool her for a second.

"Nate was here?" she asked instead. Serena nodded.

"Yep. He came while you were asleep," she said. Blair frowned.

"You should've woken me up," she said, disappointed. A small ridiculous smile slipped through Serena's lazy pink lips.

"you were out like a light, B," she said. She put a hand up to her brunette locks to push out of her face. Blair pushed away her hand, a trifle irritated at the moment. Serena frowned. "He's been coming every couple days," she said. "He'll come again." Blair sighed. "I can call him and have him come again tonight," she said quickly. Blair waved her off.

"No, no, that's fine. I'll be alright." Serena looked at her, unsure. "Really," Blair said, pressing her hand down on Serena's arm. "I mean, you're right. He'll come around in a day or so." She smiled a little and that seemed to encourage the blonde, despite the fact of the upward curve in Blair's lips being totally fake. Serena sat back in her chair and seemed to relax.

Silence ensued. Blair couldn't stop looking at the peonies on the corner table of the room. Her eyes were drawn to them like a moth to the flame. They were so beautiful, so preciously light pink and she desperately wanted to smell them. Climbing out of bed to retrieve them or demanding they be delivered to her was probably a little too desperate on her part, but the only other way she could get them without suspicion was by winning Serena over to the fact that Chuck had been there the night before and maybe the blonde even knew about it. Blair was very prepared to lecture her for that secret.

"Who are the flowers from?" she asked innocently. Serena's face flushed.

"Wh-What flowers?" she asked, confused. Blair shook her head at her best friend in her head. The girl could not act for the life of her. Blair cleared her throat and glanced in the direction of the corner. Knowing what was to come – as both of them did – Serena turned and looked at the beautiful bouquet sitting on the table in the corner. Before she could say anything, Blair interrupted her.

"Why don't you go over there and check the card," she whispered, touching her best friend's arm endearingly. Serena slowly turned back to her best friend who was pulling off the innocent look far too perfectly. She laughed a little nervously, but it was clear the brunette was not going to let her back out of this one.

Some time during the few minutes it took her best friend to make it to the other side of the room and fumble around in the leaves for the card, Blair started to panic. She'd known the flowers were from Chuck, known from the start. And despite the fact that she hadn't seen him at all during the night, even when she thought maybe he'd been there when she woke up in the middle of the night, she just knew they were from him. It was some sort of deep intuition, but more accurately was probably the fact that Chuck Bass always came bearing the peonies for his apologies. They were the sign that he was trying to win her over. Never fail – if he'd done wrong, he'd come bearing peonies.

"What does it say?" she asked delicately. Serena cleared her throat.

"It's an apology," she managed, hoping her blush wasn't getting too deep.

"And who's it from?" Blair demanded. She was sick of Serena beating around the bush. The blonde slowly turned to her, looking the saddest she'd ever seen her. For a second she thought the flowers actually weren't from Chuck. She wanted him to fight for her! It didn't matter that she was scared to death of what he would do or that she…well, that she didn't want to love him. She wanted him to fight for her, and peonies was the first sign that he had begun to do just that. She didn't think she could handle the fact that they weren't from him, that she might forever be waiting for him to bust out of his prison of self-torment long enough to approach her. She was so sure he'd done so the night before.

"They're from Chuck, B," she said very softly.

Blair swallowed hard. Panic mode crept up on her again and she covered her face with her hands, starting to cry uncontrollably. Her mind was warring with her heart and both were fighting with themselves because so many different things were felt and torn apart all at once. Serena went to her and held her fiercely.

"I'll get rid of them. I promise I will," she declared. Blair reeled back and held tightly to the blonde's upper arms.

"No," she said fiercely, pinning her dark brown eyes like fire to her best friend's blue ones. "Don't get rid of them," she whispered harshly. "Please."

…

She took a deep breath – in and out, in and out – just like she'd been doing steadily for the last hour. The peonies in the corner of the room were taunting her, telling her all sorts of things she didn't want to hear. She didn't want to feel that she loved Chuck, regardless of the horribly awful pain he'd put her through. He didn't want to think that was possible. Putting her into the emotional hell she'd had to deal with all summer and then having to see him come back with a French floozy on his arm, acting more in love than he'd ever acted with her. She didn't think she could hurt that much – ever. She'd known both of them were bound to move on eventually, but why did it have to be him first? Wasn't she allowed to be happy with someone who could appreciate her? Someone who wouldn't sell her for a hotel, sleep with her nemesis and then act like what they'd had had never meant anything to him? What kind of right did he have to do that to her? And what – now he thought he could just buy her forgiveness with one bouquet of flowers? What right – what dignity did he hold to do that to her?

It wasn't right. It wasn't dignified. And she hated that she loved that he was trying.

"No, Mom," she said into the phone. "I'll be alright. Serena's here with me." She looked up at the blonde standing by the doorway. She was trying to give her space while eavesdropping at the same time – way to not be obvious, S.

"It is not alright," Eleanor said roughly on her end. "You haven't relapsed this bad since your sophomore year of high school. You can't expect me and your father, and Cyrus and Roman too, to just sit here and wait for your doctor to call and confirm that you're alright."

Blair gave a little sigh that was just small enough to keep from entering the receiver. When her mother was determined she was almost impossible to get through to. Stubbornness was a Waldorf trait. She listened to her mother rant on for another forty-five seconds before interrupting her again.

"I'm at the Ostroff Center, Mom—"

She was cut off again. "Another reason why we should come back," she said fiercely. "You're in a foreign rehabilitation center with no one to comfort you and reassure you everything will be okay," she sighed sadly. Blair scoffed.

"Eric was here, Mom," she said indignantly. Serena tilted her head at the sound of her brother's name but Blair paid no attention to it. "No, not right now—" She sighed. "My point is, it's not a foreign place where I'll be treated improperly. Upper East Siders have been treated here before, and well." Serena smiled faintly. "As for company, Serena comes every day and Nate has been coming pretty often as well."

Blair froze at her mother's next question. Her face paled, her hand nearly dropped the phone and she suddenly found it very hard to breathe. Serena turned to her worriedly, very well aware of what Eleanor had just asked her daughter. The Waldorf/Cyrus parents were hardly aware of Blair's last debacle with her ex-boyfriend, Chuck.

"Chuck's been…busy," she said softly, trying to pull off the answer as slight annoyance rather than sadness and the fear of saying his name, of bringing up anything about him to anyone that did not know about the situation – namely anyone besides Serena, Nate and Dorota.

"That is no excuse to not visit my daughter in the hospital—"

"It's not a hospital, Mom." She twitched, annoyed. Serena moved across the room towards her, deciding to act quickly. Her best friend needed a break.

"I don't care if the two of you did break up! Nate and you broke up too and he's visiting you," she huffed. But before Blair could get in another word Serena had stolen the phone away and was walking out into the hall, closing the door behind her. The brunette looked at her best friend gratefully as she left the room. Serena smiled meekly as she caught the glance, right before the door shut.

Blair sighed and covered her eyes with her hands. Her mother was unbearable sometimes, but she knew it was just maternal worry. She couldn't blame her. If it was her, she wouldn't have even discussed the issue with the daughter in question. She would have just flown back and rushed to her without a moment's hesitation. What really shook her up now though was having Chuck's name spoken out loud by her mother. It sent shivers running through her that others who were so close to her could speak his name as if it were anyone else's on the planet. She hated how her mind worked right now. She hated that it continued to war with her heart. She just wanted to forget everything, forget Chuck, forget that she was at the Ostroff Center. She just wanted to start over. She would get over her relapse and then she would start over. No Chuck. No Columbia. Maybe not even New York. She needed a fresh start, one that didn't involve the Basstard following her around. It would have all been so much easier – as he had said – if he hadn't come back about a month earlier. But she'd been determined to have him still in her life. She'd felt desperate, lonely, afraid of her life without him. It was so terrifying that she knew with every fiber of her being that if she had the chance to do it all over that nothing would have been done differently.

She heard the door open and belatedly opened her eyes. A young man in scrubs approached her with various envelopes. Her brows furrowed and she looked up at him, but before she could ask her question, he spoke.

"Your mail, Miss Waldorf."

She took it, confused. "Thank-you," she said, looking marveled at the fact that someone had actually delivered her mail from her home. She supposed it wasn't completely unusual, but she still found it so. What was so important that she needed to see now anyways? All she could think of was an official condemnation letter from Columbia. She felt incredibly sick to her stomach and empty at the thought.

The man was gone and had closed the door behind him once again by the time she jolted herself out of the brief trance she'd fallen into and decided to pick through her mail. There was nothing too exciting, some advertising, some bills she was sure she wanted nothing to do with and should have been sent to her mother or some bank that dealt with their tedious financial dealings.

Then, there it was, just as she feared. The letter from Columbia. She swallowed slowly and carefully opened the envelope, somehow managing to avoid giving herself a paper cut. She nearly dropped the letter after she'd unfolded and read it. Her eyes blurred for a few breathless moments. She couldn't believe it. Was it real? Was she dreaming? Was this another hallucination or a sick joke from Chuck? Doing her in all over again? She couldn't tell from the information she held in her hands, but the few lines smack in the middle of the letter rung through her like a golden bell come straight from the church of Heaven.

On behalf of the entire admissions' department at Columbia University, we regretfully announce that we had been given false information and serious miscommunication took place regarding your status as a student, both prior to attending Columbia and presently at the school. It would be our great honor to readmit you to the school and whichever classes you wish to attend as soon as you are able. We are very sorry for the inconvenience and extreme disrespect, Miss Waldorf, and hope to see you soon. If there is anything else we can do to accommodate you for this horrible mistake, please request it to the admissions staff at Columbia University whenever you see fit and the president himself will see that it is followed through.

Our deepest regrets…

"What is it?" Serena asked, finally coming back into the room. Blair was gaping, still in shock. All she could do was hold up the letter and point to its glorious, very forgivable words. The Basstard had fought for her again.

Serena walked closer to her, squinting to see the words. Blair handed over the letter to her with ease. A sob escaped her and Serena's eyes darted over to hers, looking as equally surprised as the brunette had looked moments earlier.

"I'm back in," she gasped, her eyes glittering with happy tears. Serena enveloped her in an excited hug and bounced a little with her on the bed. The room was filled with laughter.

….

By late afternoon, Serena had left, leaving Blair with just enough energy to sit still on the bed without bursting to giggles and tears. For a good twenty minutes she'd even harped at the receptionist about the need to go out for a walk around the block. It was semi-successful, allowing only ten minutes for her to stretch her legs, but she was so cheerful she hardly cared. She was back in Columbia, and she was certain Chuck had everything to do with it. Even if he hadn't she would blame him for her happy mood. The other option was that his plan had backfired. She couldn't decide which possibility she liked more.

Later on, after her walk, she settled into the chair sitting directly in front of the flowers and smelled them for at least ten minutes, while reading a magazine that she was sure she'd flipped through a million times – one clearly Dorota hadn't thought twice about. It simply wasn't annoying her at the moment. She couldn't help herself. She was almost as cheerful as she'd been when she'd first found out about being accepted into Columbia. At the time, she and Chuck had been broken up. She'd helped him and then he'd helped her. He was definitely overdue for helping her, for fixing the mistakes he'd made, and she'd been pretty set in her mind to never ever forgive him, but it didn't hurt that he was trying to make her life wonderful again. In fact, it felt pretty fantastic. She could almost forget that he was the reason she was in the Ostroff Center to begin with.

The only thing dimming her mood was the fact that Nate hadn't been answering his phone all day. It wasn't that she was dying to see him or anything. It was the fact that she knew without a doubt he was the only one that could get a hold of Chuck and wouldn't freak out on her. He would understand, especially since she'd heard during the few hushed conversations he'd had with Serena, the ones she'd eavesdropped while pretending to be asleep on, that he was pressing Chuck to come and visit her. That made her heart leap that he was trying so hard. He was clearly the only person she could trust to get Chuck there with her. Of course, acting like Serena was the more proper way she should be acting. Chuck had torn her apart – mentally, physically and emotionally. She shouldn't have thought twice about whether to forgive him or not, and she still was extremely pissed and hurt at him. She still wouldn't forgive him, and nothing in her was fighting that. But when he'd gotten her accepted to Columbia the first time, she'd still thanked him countless times, her bitchiest mode in full throttle naturally. She wouldn't be Blair Waldorf if she didn't believe with all her being that he was in the wrong even with the little things he did that were so refreshingly right.

Nate's answering machine message came on again and she groaned, setting the phone back down in her lap. She was back in her bed, one leg crossed over the other under the covers. The renewed disappointment from not getting a hold of Nate vanished – as it always did – when she looked across the room at the beautiful pink peonies and glance at the little table beside her bed where that beautiful Columbian letter sat. A small smile tugged at her lips.

She was so confused.

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. It all seemed so wrong for her to be feeling like this. To be feeling terrified, pissed, ecstatic, bubbly, irritated, shocked, in love…she shook her head, willing herself to feel negative towards him. If she pushed all her emotions into the constant mode of hatred and hurt then she could stop calling Nate, she could stop needing Chuck to visit her so they could discuss her blessings throughout the day. She could stop all of it, because really, aside from visiting her and making a fool of himself by going on repeat apologies, what else could he do? He could take back the horrid things he'd said to her, but they had been so fierce when he said them she didn't think she could ever forget how empty she'd felt, how much she couldn't prevent herself from going to the bathroom and putting her finger to the back of her throat, purging out everything she'd eaten just so she could attempt to forget.

But she hadn't so much as wanted to throw up all day, and without thinking she'd picked up the phone, dialed Nate's number and waited for him to answer.

"Blair."

She looked up into the doorway and dropped the phone which now had Nate's tiny voice emanating from it. She swallowed hard and closed the phone, somehow needing to hear herself breathe, hear her heart beat because she wasn't sure if it was still thumping inside her chest. Whether she'd really wanted it or not, whether she knew if she really wanted (or needed) it or not, Chuck Bass was standing in her doorway and there was no one to keep him from coming inside. She pushed her phone off her lap and onto the floor. Neither looked at it when they heard the soft bing.

He walked in through the door, closed it behind him and walked slowly towards her. Neither could tear their gaze away. It seemed he was having as hard of a time breathing as she was. He swallowed hard and stopped just short of where her arm lie at her side.

"Hi," he said on one short breath.

"Hi," she whispered, barely managing this single word. He took one more shaky step forward and his face literally fell apart. She could feel nothing whatsoever. She was completely numb and all she could hear was her heart beating.

"I'm sorry," he said. She swallowed hard and watched him stiffly. Tears welled up in her eyes.

….

A/N: *sigh* I can already tell you guys are going to find this confusing…but in my defense, Blair is really confused in this chapter too, so I think it's allowed. You're just feeling her emotions. Heh. *prepares self for negative reviews* I'm really going to try to get this story finished before the next episode, really. Because if I feel like Chuck is heartless again in 4x06, then I won't be able to finish this fic right away b/c he is clearly no longer heartless in this story. =(

Review! =D