A/N: Slightly AU during the conversation between Chuck and Blair at the end of 4.09 – The Witches of Bushwick. What if that lovely C/B moment - "if two people are meant to be together…" didn't quite turn out the way that it did? What if instead, Blair walked away? Set about five years into the future…give or take a couple of months. Also, the Juliet drugging Serena thing never happened. C/B.

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"Serena!" Sam enthusiastically exclaimed.

She smiled at Chuck's personal assistant. It always amused her that Chuck had ended up with an absolutely gorgeous, straight male assistant. Sam was easily six feet tall and built like a swimmer—lean and broad. He had the lightest green eyes, she had ever seen. They were made more prominent by his dark, almost black hair and pale skin. He had been with Chuck for over two years.

"Hello, gorgeous!" She teased back. "Is he in yet?"

Sam's bright smile faded.

"I'm sorry, but he's requested that all appointments today be cancelled. And I've been told, under no circumstances is he receiving calls or visitors." Sam glanced around quickly before whispering, "Even Henry."

"But he's inside his office, now?" Serena asked lightly. This was worse than she thought.

He hesitated, "I really want to help you out, but I've never seen him like this before."

She nodded understandingly. "I'll make sure you get out of this unscathed."

And before Sam could say a word, she barged into the Chuck's closed office door, locking it firmly behind her. As she leaned against the door, her eyes met his—angry as he sat behind his desk.

"Serena," his voice lashed out in a bone-chilling tone. "I'm sure Sam told you that I was unavailable. When I said lunch, I meant during an afternoon hour, to be scheduled in advance, not for you to drop by on a whim."

"Chuck—"

"You have exactly ten seconds to get out of my office, or I will have security escort you out."

"NO!" She said determinedly. "I'll leave when I've finished what I've come here to say. If you want to hide behind your uniformed men—go ahead."

He glared at her with such hatred, she wanted to flinch.

Serena forced herself to walk to his desk and sat in a chair directly across from him. She took a deep breath and counted to ten. "I have been a horrible friend and sister to you for the past five years. Hell, I've probably never been a good friend the entire time you've known me. But regardless of what a piece of paper says or doesn't say—you're still my brother, Chuck."

"It's a little too late for that," he said bitterly.

"No, Chuck, it's not. You will always be my brother—like it or not. And Blair will always be my sister."

"Of course, let's get to the real reason why you're here."

"I'm here for both of you."

Chuck shot her a look of disbelief.

"I am!" Serena insisted. "I spent three hours with Henry last night on top of the eight hours the night before—all so we could help you."

"You despise her. She loathes you."

"True and true. However, we both love you. And I love Blair, and I'm sure eventually Henry will love Blair, too. You know better than anyone else, Chuck, how impossible it is not to love her," she said softly.

"You have five minutes."

"I know Nate told you what a complete jackass he was…"

"You'll have to be more specific, there are too many instances to choose from," Chuck said hollowly.

"About this," Serena said, as she pulled the large, festively wrapped parcel from her bag and placed it in front of him.

She didn't miss the longing and hopefulness that lingered for a moment as he stared at the gift. His eyes grew cold once again.

"Blair sent this to you for your twentieth birthday," Serena informed him. "I think you should open it, now."

"No," he said too forcefully.

"If you open it, I'll leave," she promised.

"I have your word?"

"If after you open it, and you still want me to leave," she clarified. "Then, yes, you have my word, I will leave."

He nodded as he reached for the package. Serena watched as he seemed to be delaying actually opening it. He read the card attached first, Just because we can't be together, doesn't mean we aren't friends…-B, and saw the bittersweet smile that crossed his lips. She sighed, mentally crossing her fingers that this would work.

"Oh!" He exclaimed as he pulled out the large photo album from the box. It was a beautiful, royal purple, leather-bound, hand-stitched album. He opened it, nervously, wondering what he would find inside. The first picture was of him and Bart, when he was two-years old. As Chuck flipped slowly through the first few pages, they were all of him—either with Bart or alone. They were at various stages—from his infancy up to his first day of kindergarten. He couldn't remember having seen any of these photos before, and his brow furrowed.

"Blair asked my mom for all of Bart's photos, after the 1st anniversary of his death. Blair had always intended on making you a scrapbook."

Although he heard Serena's words, he couldn't quite manage a response. He started flipping through the book quickly, desperate to see what else Blair had included. The first third appeared to be of him and his father, with the last few pages including photos from Bart and Lily's wedding. The photos then shifted to snapshots from elementary school photos with Nate, until later in junior high school where the four of them had all met. There was even their favorite camera phone photo from the first day of freshman year in high school. He couldn't stop the smile from crossing his face.

"She wanted to give you something that let you know she cared about you. A gift that would actually mean something," Serena explained. "Something you could never erase."

It was the last third of the album he had not expected—pictures of them. There were so many, including silly ones that they had both promised never to show anyone else. Pictures he had taken of her when she was sleeping in his bed, during their first month together—he had felt the need to capture her on film, wanting a reminder of how perfectly she fit into his life, and how stupid he was to fight her for so long. There were photos of himself that she must have taken when he hadn't realized. Aside from the ones where he was sleeping, there were an array of shots—him laughing, him in deep concentration as he tied his bowtie, and him smirking while reading a text. Suddenly, he didn't care what he had overheard her saying at the gala or her pressuring him to talk about Nate yesterday morning—he needed to find her. She loved him, and he would do everything in his power to win that love back.

He stood up, "I have to see her. Apologize for walking out on her."

Serena held up a hand. "Before you go, there's something you should know."

"Serena, please—"

"She never got the birthday gifts you sent her. Louis must have hid them from her."

He shook his head violently. This was not possible.

"Henry's at her penthouse right now, giving her the last gift you sent to her. The one after you moved out of The Empire?" She clarified. "And she's telling Blair that I'm giving you this specific gift now."

"What have I done?" He said hoarsely. "Serena, what if she won't forgive me?"

"Chuck," she whispered. "The minute you showed up to the engagement party and she danced with you, she knew. She tried to leave her own engagement party to find you, but Nate, Louis and I all stopped her. So she waited until the morning after to call it off. She moved back here to see if you guys could work it out."

His eyes welled up with tears. "Do you think she'll have me?"

"You're Chuck Bass," she teased gently. "I'm sure you can convince her."

He pulled Serena into his arms, and hugged her tightly. He hadn't hugged her in so long. He murmured into her ear, "Thank you."

She hugged him back just as tightly.

"You will never stop being my family," she said fiercely before she started to sob. "I'm sorry that I didn't fight harder for you—reassure you that you'd always be my brother. I was just so ashamed, Chuck. And I was so grateful that you were still willing to have me in your life, I didn't want to do anything to upset the balance."

"I should have known," he said soothingly. In an attempt to bring a smile to her face, he mocked, "You never did know how to read my subtext, I was always better at decoding yours."

She laughed and sniffled, much to his relief. Serena wiped her tears with a hand, and smiled at him. "So don't do the Blair Waldorf thing, ok?"

"And what would that be?" He asked with a puzzled look.

"Wait to see if she comes to you first," she said pointedly.

He smirked. "Five years has been long enough, don't you think?"

"Too long," she said emphatically. "I've missed you, you know?"

"Of course you have."

"So take care of your number one priority first, and we'll figure this out, yeah?"

"Yeah," he returned.

She embraced him hard, once more. "I'll be on my way then. Call me if you need anything."

"I will," he said. As he watched her unlock the door and walk out, he was more surprised that he had actually meant it.

Chuck stared at the photo album on his desk. There were so many emotions he was feeling, that he didn't know where to start. He knew that the right thing to do would be to go find Blair right now, but he found himself grasping at straws. With everything that just happened, he didn't know if he even knew what to say.

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Blair shifted in her chair as she poured a splash of milk into her tea. Dorota had left the tea tray moments ago, leaving her and Henry in silence. Instead of speaking, both women busied themselves unnecessarily with fixing their tea. She waited for Henry to begin speaking, since she had arrived unannounced, asking for an hour of her time. The last person she expected at nine a.m. was Henry, but she looked both burdened and determined. It only took one look at her face for Blair to know that she was aware of at least part of yesterday's events. Another minute or two passed before words were finally uttered.

"Do you want to know about the first time I met Chuck?" Henry asked softly. "I met him on his birthday, four years ago to date next Monday."

Blair bit her lip, she wanted to know everything, but she didn't know if she had a right to any of it—she had been the one that walked away. And Chuck had sounded certain yesterday when he said that he was done—he had never once said that before. Delicately she said, "Only as much as you're comfortable telling me."

"Then I should probably tell you everything," she concurred.

"Only if you want to," Blair protested. "You don't owe me anything."

"I know," Henry smiled sadly. "And it should be Chuck that's telling you all of this. Unfortunately, I think too much has happened between you two, so I am an unauthorized emissary on his behalf. He doesn't know that I'm here."

She looked at her uncomfortably, "I don't want to make this any worse on any of us."

"You need to understand," Henry said firmly. After a pause, in a faraway voice, she continued, "Chuck likes to refer to me as his doppelganger. We met at a bar on his twentieth birthday—the twentieth anniversary of my parents' death. I hadn't been back to San Francisco, that's where they're buried, for four years—since I graduated from Stanford. And so I walked into this bar, and sat in a corner, kicking myself for not being a good daughter and visiting their grave. At some point that evening, Chuck stumbled into the bar—he was being an obnoxious twit, announcing how he was Chuck Bass and he could buy and sell the place a billion times over."

Blair watched Henry in rapt fascination, as she saw her lost in her memories.

"I told him to shut the hell up and sit his ass down, that no one cared, and if he really were Chuck Bass, I'd shut the fuck up, before someone tried to take advantage of that fact. He plopped down next to me and actually shut up. I was congratulating myself on the victory of silence, when he turned to me and offered to buy me a drink. That if I was ballsy enough to tell him off, than I deserved a reward. I declined, of course, but he became insistent. So finally, just to shut him up again, I caved in and let him buy me a drink. Of course that led to him informing me that now I had to tell him my name—and before I was about to snap at him, I looked at him, and he looked so sad. It was as if I had been the only person to really interact with him in a long time—treat him like a normal human being.

"So, I held out my hand and told him my name. His eyes grew round and he told me that I must be his doppelganger, that he had once dubbed himself 'Henry Prince' when he had destroyed the only thing he had ever loved. Then he told me that it was his birthday and he wasn't sure if he should be celebrating or not, he had just wrestled control of Bass Industries from his alleged adoptive step-mother. But he wasn't sure if had killed his actual mother by being born. I wished him a happy birthday, but told him it wasn't a happy one for me—that it was the anniversary of my parents' death. He demanded I tell him my birthday—December 6th."

"That's the day Bart died," Blair whispered.

"That was the moment he just kinda decided that we should be friends. He was almost fixated at this point—but he looked so lost, that I figured I'd humor him. I was convinced that he would forget all about this in the morning—there were too many coincidences for me to ever pursue the friendship," Henry explained.

"But we ended up talking all night, he told me about his Uncle Jack and I told him about my Uncle Jin. We had so much in common—we were only children, orphaned with evil uncles. And then—he started talking about you. For a moment I thought he was someone else completely, he just got so mesmerized in his own thoughts and memories—but he stopped himself quickly, and said you had walked away from him—and that he had deserved it, but he had hoped one day you would give him another chance. I think it was therapeutic for him—talking to a complete stranger."

Blair nodded. She was finally getting details of Chuck's life from when she was gone.

"But when he asked me why I was at the bar that night, I found myself telling him the truth. I told him that I was too much of a coward to go and visit my parents' grave, because I was afraid that I might chase after someone who ran away from me. The next thing I knew, he had called the Bass jet, and within hours, we were on our way to San Francisco so I could go to the cemetery," Henry said, as a tear fell down her cheek. "After that, we just instantly became family. I told him about my heartache and he told me more about you. And he has been patiently waiting this entire time for you to come back to him. Surely, you must know by now that nothing has ever happened between Chuck and I? That it was my fault that you walked in on what you walked in on at his office? I was just trying to make sure that you were here for the right reasons, not just to break his heart again."

"I don't know what to say—" Blair paused, furiously wiping tears from her own eyes.

"He called me after your dance in Paris, I had never heard him so happy until that moment. He went to your house the next morning—he was going to ask you if he imagined your connection during the dance. He was going to ask you for another chance."

Blair's eyes widened, "He was there?"

Henry nodded.

Acknowledgement registered in Blair's mind. Someone trying to sell something—I got rid of him. "He spoke to Louis, didn't he?"

"He did. Louis told him that you were embarrassed that he was still in love with you."

"Henry, I didn't know—" she started.

"He returned four birthday presents," Henry interrupted. "Presents that Chuck hand-selected every year and sent to you, so you would know he still loved you."

Everything clicked into place, Chuck's rudeness at her surprise 'welcome home' dinner, his need to pretend that Henry was his girlfriend, the hot and cold disdain and affection, why mentioning Nate yesterday morning would have pushed him over the edge. It had been a complete series of misfortunate events, beyond either one of their control.

She stood up, "I have to go see him, right now!"

Henry placed a beautifully wrapped present in front of her—stopping her in her tracks. "This was the present that Chuck picked out for you last year—after he moved out of the Empire."

"Where did you get this?" Blair asked as she held the unmistakable jewelry box in her hand—hesitant to open it.

"Please, as if his safe combination isn't the date before your 17th birthday? He is so unoriginal," Henry joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

She fingered the package once more. The card attached was in his script, The time for playing games has come to an end. I love you—Chuck Bass. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes as she wondered if it was the gift she thought it would be. When she saw the diamond choker, she started to sob—he knew. He had known this entire time.

"Did he ever explain why he got me this?" Blair hiccupped.

Henry shook her head.

"It was senior year in high school, and we had just decided that if we couldn't say 'I love you' to each other, then we should wait before we were together. It's the only time he didn't spend some part of my birthday with me since we had first met when we were twelve. You know, I didn't even put it on hold at the jewelers, because I knew we were going to spend my birthday apart."

"He hasn't stopped loving you, Blair, not for one single moment."

"Do you think he'll see me?" She asked hopefully.

"Honestly? I don't know. He's gone to that place where I can't reach him. And right now Serena's at his office with one of your gifts," Henry admitted.

"S is involved?" Blair asked. "But you two hate each other."

"True," she acknowledged. "But we both love Chuck like a brother. And you're her sister. I like to think that you'll eventually become like a sister to me."

Blair smiled.

"But I'm also here to tell you that Chuck and I have a tradition, every year for his birthday, we go to San Francisco to visit my parents' grave. Just like every year since we've met, we go visit Bart's on mine. And I don't know if he's coming with me this year or not," Henry clarified. "I just don't want you to think he's running away if you find out he's out of town."

"I see."

"Just, please don't do the same thing he does."

"And what's that?"

"Wait to see if he comes to you first. Serena's telling him right now, that I'm giving you this specific gift, while she specifically hands him your first one. You are both so proud—it doesn't matter who goes to whom—it just matters that you do," Henry put in. She reached over to lightly squeeze her hand. "I should get going. I'm sure you have a lot to process."

Blair smiled gratefully at her, and she watched as Henry got into the elevator. Her initial impulse had been to run to Chuck—but now, she wasn't so sure. But not for the reasons Henry would think—she just had absolutely no idea what to say to him.

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tbc

A/N: I am certain that I do not have to tell you what chapter is coming next. I pinky promise—there will be no interruptions, just Chuck and Blair, in a room, hashing it all out.

As for the Henry Prince/Henrietta Park thing…it actually happened on accident, I didn't realize it until I was writing Chapter 8, and at that point, I was married to calling her Henry. So, I just rolled with it, and it just kind of enhanced the whole Henry/Chuck connection.

As always, for the amazing Noirreigne, who needs no other words.

Readers and reviewers—you guys kill me! I'm so grateful that you spend the time to read my scribblings, and sometimes scribble notes back at me. So thank you for your time.

The story is going to be a wee bit longer than I thought (which was already like 5 chapters longer than I had originally planned for), so it's looking like 16-18 chapters and then an epilogue. The chapters will be getting shorter, but much more focused (like this one was), I think. Although, the next chapter will most likely be the longest one.