Chuck tapped his fingers on the wooden arms of the chair he sat in. He sat in the doctor's office, listening to him ask a wide variety of questions. This was the last place he wanted to be.

This was his third session now. They were extremely pointless. They had gotten no where. He always asked the same questions. Why did you try to kill yourself? What was wrong in your life? Tell me about yourself…

The doctor would scribble down Chuck's reaction to everything he asked him, probably making sure he had every detail.

"How's your school work going?" The doctor always started with small talk.

Lily had been bringing him work from school that his teachers assigned so he wouldn't fall to far behind. He never really had anything to do so he had started doing it.

"Fine."

"Good. What's your favorite subject?"

"Physics," Chuck rose his hand to his chin and stroked it with his thumb and pointer finger like he was contemplating something, "Or maybe art."

"Are you good at those subjects?"

"Please, I'm Chuck Bass. I'm good at everything."

"Right…" He wrote something down, this always annoyed Chuck.

"So, tell me about your childhood." Dr. Sherman crossed his legs and waited intently on his answer.

"It was great. I think I was the happiest kid ever."

Of course the doctor already knew everything about him, he just wanted it to come out of Chuck's own mouth, "Really? Tell me about it."

"Okay, fine. My childhood sucked. I never had a mother. My father hated me. I have no family. That's the story of my life." He retorted, bitterly.

"And that's the story of your life? Aren't you forgetting some things? Friends? School?" The doctor pressed him to answer more fully.

"School? I never tried in school. I don't see the point. And friends? Well, I only ever had one friend and he turned out to be pretty shitty."

"Nate Archibald?"

"No, Dan Humphrey."

"Right. I know you're trying to turn this into a joke, Chuck, but this is serious."

Chuck just nodded.

"I know you had a horrible childhood and your life has never been really great, but I just want to get your point of view. Try to understand you."

"You want to understand me? Well, if you know so much about me you should already understand. My mom died giving birth to me. My father never told me he loved me because he hated me for it. I fell in love with my best friend's girlfriend. She didn't love me back because she went back to my best friend. My dad died. My uncle ruined the last good thing I had in my life. Now I have nothing. Do you understand now?"

"Yeah, you try to shut people out because you've been hurt to much. You're scared of people seeing the real you, fearing they'll be disappointed. But on the inside you're just a frightened boy."

"A frightened boy? I don't think so. Do I look like a boy to you?"

"I didn't say you looked like one, I said deep down, at heart, you are one. You want to be loved."

"This is ridiculous." Chuck crossed his arms over his torso.

"You know it's true. You need to admit these things about yourself. It's one step closer to becoming a better person."

"I don't think I need to become a better person. I totally love myself."

"You do? Because from what I can tell, you don't."

"Please." He scoffed.

"You want to change. For this girl you're in love with. You can't have her if you don't change."

"Screw you."

"I'm not trying to make you angry, Chuck. I'm trying to help you."

"Well you're not helping me! You don't think I know all this stuff already?!" He raised from his seat, growing angry.

"Please, sit down."

"Why should I?" He kept standing.

"Please, sit. Tell me about this girl."

"No! It's none of your business."

"Do you really think that you can't be loved? Just because your father neglected to tell you he loved you, doesn't mean everybody else is incapable of loving you."

"I told you it's none of your fucking business!"

"Did you try to kill yourself…because of this girl?" Dr. Sherman hoped that by breaking Chuck down, he would finally open up.

"Stop acting like you know me! You don't know anything about me!" Chuck screamed in his face. He couldn't take him assuming everything about him. It only drove him crazy because the doctor was getting everything right.

He turned and in a quick pace left Dr. Sherman's spacious office.

"Hello?" Blair wiped away the few tears that had started falling from her eyes.

"Hey, Blair. It's Eric."

"Oh hey…how's it going." She hadn't talked to him for awhile.

"Fine. But Blair, I really need to tell you something. Because I think you deserve to know." He didn't save any time for small talk before jumping into exactly what he needed to say.

"What?" She was suddenly concerned.

"It's about Chuck."

"What? Chuck? Is he okay?" She pushed the phone closer to her ear as if it would make the answer come faster.

"Yeah he's fine. He's at the Ostroff Center," Eric told her even though she already knew, "It's just Serena has something that I think you should see."

"What? Serena?"

"Yes. And I think you need to see it."

"See what?" He was being very vague about the information.

"…Chuck's suicide note."

"What? Chuck wrote a note?" Blair climbed off her bed and scurried to find something remotely descent to wear. She didn't care much about what it was so she grabbed the first thing in her closet and pulled flats onto her feet.

"Yes…I don't want to say anything because I think you should just read it for yourself."

"Where is she?"

"At home."

"I'll be there in a few minutes." She hung up the phone and put it into her purse that she had hung on her arm.

She stood in front of the mirror in her room, her eyes were pink and her lips looked swollen, almost set in a permanent pout. Anyone who wasn't blind could see she'd been crying for a long time. She really hadn't stopped crying for a week and a half straight. She refused to be around anyone for an extended period of time because she could almost never go an hour without having tear drops trickle down her face, then she would start full-out bawling.

She tried to find a way to put her messy hair. Pulled up and tight drew more attention to her eyes, but loose made her look like she hadn't bothered to take a shower for a month. Finally she decided on putting it into a loose bun. She still looked awful, she thought, but it was better than before.

Blair left for the Van der Woodsen penthouse in a town car. Luckily, it wasn't to far. When she had nothing to do for long moments she had no choice but to think about Chuck. And what he was doing. And when she would go see him again. And if she would even be allowed to see him.

She desperately wanted to know how he was doing at the Ostroff Center. It was driving her crazy, not seeing him. She wanted nothing more but to see him. Maybe just to touch him for a moment…just to make sure he wasn't her imagination, since she had endless dreams about him.

The car pulled up to the curb in front of the Palace and she quickly stepped out and rushed up to the top floor.

The penthouse was completely quiet, but Eric had told her Serena was home, so she scurried towards her room.

The door to her room was open, but she wasn't in there. Blair entered anyways. She snooped around, looking for any place where Chuck's note may be. She flipped through book pages, shuffled through drawers, she even looked through pockets in some of the clothes that were visible to her.

"Blair! What are you doing?" Serena stepped into her room slowly, shocked to find her best friend looking through everything.

"Where is it, Serena?! Eric told me you have it and I want to see it!" She strutted towards her threateningly.

"Calm down! What are you talking about?"

"The note! Where is it?!"

"Blair," She paused being cautious of her words because Blair was upset, "I don't think you should read it."

"I don't care what you think! Give it to me!" She moved closer to her.

Serena sighed and moved to her vanity. She knew Blair wasn't going to give up, even if it meant physical violence. She opened her jewelry box and pulled out the folded note. It was much more crumpled than when Eric had given it to her. Serena had memorized every word of it.

She slowly held it out to Blair and she took gradually. She stared at it for a long while. She felt her fingers across the bloody prints that still remained on it. Unfolding the paper like it was a delicate artifact, she opened it. Read the words, Blair-I love you. Always have. I'm sorry I never told you. It's one of my biggest regrets. But I've realized I can't have you. And I can't take it anymore.-Chuck. Tears filled her eyes, and there was no way possible to stop them from flowing out.

"Why didn't you give this to me?" She asked, sobbing, the paper shook in her hands.

"I was protecting you. And Chuck."

"What?" She managed to get out and looked back down at the paper. Reading the words over and over. She hadn't guessed he had done this because of her. She felt awful. He had been mad about Nate and her, but she was unaware he was so upset he had hurt himself. This was the worst thing imaginable. It completely broke her.

"I just knew it was going to hurt you more if I gave it to you. And I knew Chuck wouldn't want you to be seeing this now."

"But he wrote it to me!" Blair put her hand to her throat and tried to get in control of her crying by taking deep breaths.

"I'm sorry." Serena wrapped her arms around Blair and rested her chin on top of her head.

"I need to go see him." She said suddenly.

Serena still held her, "It's okay." She made a shushing noise trying to comfort her.

"No, no. I need to go see him." She was now frantic and struggled out of her tall friend's grasp.

She ran from Serena's room and out of the penthouse.

He stood in front of the mirror, again. Looking at himself, thinking of what his doctor had said.

"I know you had a horrible childhood and your life has never been really great,"

"you try to shut people out because you've been hurt to much."

"You're scared of people seeing the real you, fearing they'll be disappointed."

"But on the inside you're just a frightened boy."

"Just because your father neglected to tell you he loved you, doesn't mean everybody else is incapable of loving you."

Thoughts of Blair slipped through his mind and totally pushed out what he was remembering of the encounter with Dr. Sherman.

"Whatever you're going through, I want to be there for you."

"I will stand by you through anything."

"Don't you understand? I'll always be here."

"So whatever you want to do to yourself, please don't do that to me."

"Because I love you."

He could hear every word she'd ever said. Some hurtful. Some sweet. Her voice echoed in his head.

He saw her smile. Her frown. Her pout. Her lips part, as she kissed him.

Chuck had to stop thinking of her. Anything to get the images and voices out of his brain.

He looked down at his wrists. Bandaged.

He slowly took the white gauze and unwrapped his left wrist.

Pain. Pain had made him stop thinking of her before. He couldn't remember a moment when he had been in pain where Blair had crossed his mind.

His cut was less pinkish, less puffy. But dark stitches were still holding the torn skin together.

It was like having a headache that won't go away. You've done everything you could and it just wont go away. But if you happened to hit your hand with a hammer or nail went through you're finger…you wouldn't even think about your headache anymore. You would be too wrapped up in your seemingly broken hand.

Chuck ran his finger tips along the stitches. Each stitch wasn't spaced too close together, but they also weren't spaced to far apart that there were wholes in his wrist.

He gripped his thumb and index finger around one of the looped stitched. To get a better hold on it he had to grasp it with his fingernails. And yanked as hard as he could.

The first time it didn't rip through his skin so he tried it again and again. Finally he pulled the stitch out. Tearing a bit of his wrist so it was jagged. Blood starting dripping down his arm. It hurt just as much as he thought it would, not as much as when he'd sliced his wrist open with the glass, but still. It was painful. He ripped another stitch through his skin. And another. Before he could move to the next one he started shaking and couldn't hold still long enough to get a grasp on it. There was a fair amount of blood coming from the wound now, but it wasn't flowing out like the first time.

Chuck stood there shaking, staring at his arm, watching the blood. He hadn't noticed, but tears were clouding his vision.

He was so focused on the pain he was feeling, he didn't hear the door of his room open and close.

"Oh my god, Chuck!" Blair was standing before him, hand over her mouth.

He guessed his plan hadn't worked, because he still saw her and heard her.

She picked up the gauze from the floor and started wrapping it hastily around his bleeding wrist. Chuck didn't move, except for the shaking. He didn't look at her or say anything.

She wrapped the bandage as tightly as she could. He still didn't stop shaking, he just stared at his wrist with teary eyes. Blair brought her arms around him and linked her hands together behind his back.

She squeezed him tightly. Attempting to get the shaking to stop.

She set her head against his chest, "It's okay. It's okay…" Reassuring him over and over.

They stood in his bathroom for at least fifteen minutes. Blair squeezed him as hard as she could, hoping that would help him relax.

If it wasn't for the constant trembling, Chuck would've seemed dead. Eyes wide. No words. Barely breathing.

When he was barely shaking anymore, Blair guided him out of the bathroom and lead him to the bed. She helped him lay down and put the blankets over him. She then walked over to the other side of the bed and climbed under the covers with him.

Chuck's eyes were lazy and his body was limp. Blair scooted towards him so she was only an inch from his face. She stroked his cheek. Even lying there, she thought, he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. He was perfect.

She stared into his eyes and caressed his cheek until he slowly closed his eyes, like he was falling asleep.

He finally seemed peaceful. Blair slowly took the covers off her and started sliding off the bed.

Before she climbed all the way off Chuck grabbed her arm, "Please…stay." He looked at her longingly.

"I'm not leaving. I'm just going to turn off the light, okay?"

He let go of her arm and she flipped off the switch by the door.

Blair quickly got back in the bed and under the sheets and blankets. She went back to stroking his cheek until he fell asleep.

When she was sure he wouldn't wake up, she snuggled close to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and resting her head underneath his chin.