Soulless
"Evil is a point of view."

By Isabelle

Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl or its characters.

Rating: M

Summary: Vampires don't get obsessed with pictures left on their graves; pictures of lovely brunettes and chubby baby boys. Vampires are soulless and evil. He didn't know their names, but he knew they were special. She must've been special to him, and that thought alone haunted him. All he knew was that he wanted her for himself, even if he had to kill her to get her. Chuck/Blair.

A/N: Tati is the most wonderful, most talented BETA in the whole wide world.

"Keep your secrets. Keep your silence. It is a better gift than truth"

Anne Rice

He shifted in the plush bed and found her on her stomach, staring at him, her eyes half closed in the thick night.

"You're awake…" he murmured, sliding closer to her, molding his body against hers.

"I can't sleep…" she confessed, her hand reaching out to touch his chest. He leaned in and kissed her bare shoulder, feeling her skin prickle against his. "I'm afraid this is all a dream."

He nuzzled his nose against the side of her face and shook his head. "It's not," he assured her in a whisper. "It's not."

"Why didn't you bite me?" She murmured silently, and he cocked his head. "When I asked you. Why didn't you?"

He traced her fine neck; it was as if it were always lulling him. "You were too weak. I took too much last time."

She gulped. "I'm sorry," he felt the need to say.

"Why did you remember?" She asked.

He studied her face, her beautiful face. "Your blood… It's the most powerful thing to me. Because I love you. The witch believes this has never happened before. I hate to think I'm that special."

"You are to me, you know…" she whispered and turned into him, holding him again and pressing her ear against his collarbone, her breast pressed against the hairs on his chest. She buried her hands in his hair like she always did, and he explored her bare back with the tips of his fingers. He found her waist, her hips and the delectable curve of her pert ass.

He'd been with many women while he was alive. He'd been with many, many more after his death – but none felt as sweet and as rich as she did. She was decadent. A buttery dessert that melted in his hands. "I love your skin," he murmured into her hair.

"It's pale," she stated matter-of-factly.

"It's perfect," he assured her. "I could touch it all night and not tire of it."

She turned her head, and he looked down to stare at her. "You feel a bit different," she confessed, grasping his arms, and his insecurities instantly flared up. He was never insecure in his own skin like she was, but he was always insecure that she would one day realize she was too good for him. He never told her this, but he had a few dreams when she was pregnant. He dreamt that he messed up their relationship and marriage beyond repair, and he would come home from work to find her gone and the nursery empty, the baby's smell still lingering in the room. He'd wake up shaking, pulling her swollen body to him and holding her tight. She always thought that he dreamt of her dying. Yet somehow her purposely leaving him and taking his child with her hurt more than her death.

He was a selfish bastard that way. If she was alive, he needed her with him. And that was that.

"Different meaning I'm dead?" He inquired, looking away, far away from her face and what it meant to him.

"No…" she said softly. "I don't like to think about that." She turned his face, making him stare at her dark orbs. "You're alive to me. That's what matters. That is what will matter to your son."

His son.

The longer he thought about the baby, the more he ached to hold him. His own little boy. A tug, sharper than anything he had ever experienced, pulled at his chest.

"Tell me about him…" he whispered into her skin.

A lax smile came to her lips, and he felt her visibly relax. "He's perfect. He manipulates his way into my bed each night."

Chuck smiled, imagining the small baby commanding Blair Waldorf.

"He's got the only temper. It's either his way or the highway," she continued. "He's very attached to me and Serena and, of course, Dorota."

"A man should always handle his women well," Chuck said, staring down at her.

"And he does. He's got his grandmothers eating out of the palm of his hand. Even Cyrus falls under his charm, Eric and Nate are great with him and even Rufus buys him these god-awful flannel shirts, which I have Dorota donate to the homeless," Blair explained, and Chuck felt a sudden pang in his chest. He'd missed it. He'd missed Blair ordering flannel baby wear to be burnt, Cyrus hugging the baby until he cried, Nate being left to babysit for the first time and Eleanor doting on her grandson.

"Of course, Daddy and he are the best of friends. He's even bought matching outfits for when he and Roman take him out on a stroll," Blair continued, and Chuck had visions of the gay couple in summer whites with his son perched in their arms wearing a matching outfit.

It should've been him.

It should've been him with a matching sweater vest and hat, his small son in his arms as they attracted the attention of all sorts of women in Central Park while Blair glared angrily at them.

It should've been him.

He turned from Blair and stared out at the window into the starless night. His own life was slipping from his fingers. Many parts of it already gone and unattainable.

"Hey…" Her arms wrapped around him, and she pressed herself fully to him. "Let's go see him. Let's go now… Just because you've missed some stuff doesn't mean you have to miss everything."

She knew him so well; she could read him like a well-worn open book she'd read a hundred times before. She pressed her lips to his shoulder, warming the patch of skin there.

"How did he know who I was?" Chuck finally asked, never moving, never leaving this spot.

She was silent until he finally turned to look at her. "Come with me and I will show you."

The home was eerily quiet when Blair opened the door to her home; she figured that everyone was already asleep. Chuck was meeting her in her room, so she tip toed there but paused when she saw the nursery door open. He was standing there, an odd figure in a room full of pastel colors and toys scattered on the floor. The big, bad vampire looming over the baby. She couldn't detect any emotions on his face, no indication of what he was feeling. He was just studying the child. She came in and slowly closed the door behind her, making him jump and look at her.

The small night light lit their features, delicately unearthing a celestial sort of glow throughout the room.

"He's asleep," Chuck whispered, as if it were the most absurd thing in the world.

"It's 4am, Chuck," she whispered back, looking over the crib. Brenton was sleep on his stomach, sucking his thumb, covered in his favorite yellow blanket. She reached down and touched his small ear, making it twitch and the baby's brows furrow.

"No, don't wake him," Chuck whispered to her, coming closer.

"It'll be fine," she assured him, slipping the blanked off Brenton and slowly picking him up. The baby protested some but promptly snoozed again once Blair placed his head on her shoulder. She watched as Chuck stared at the baby unabashedly.

Chuck watched as Blair picked up his son and held the baby on her shoulder, rocking him slightly. The boy's little mouth parted and drool dropped onto his mother's dress. He could hear the baby's soft humming heartbeat. His long years had taught him that there was nothing as innocent as a child's heartbeat.

He'd seen many babies before, and touched some. He never fed from them. To him, the younger a human, the 'greener' they tasted. Like eating a banana when it had not yet ripened. It was the same when feeding on an elderly person. The banana was now too ripe and tasted old. The feeding should be done from someone who was the right age. This was one of the many reasons Chuck had never understood Luther's taste in humans. It always felt like he fed from things that were not yet at their turning point.

"Do you want to hold him?" Blair asked him, her dark eyes studying him in the night air.

His heart jumped slightly in a near panic. "No," he said quickly. "I'm not ready."

She didn't say anything, just shifted the baby and made him stir.

"Let's go to the room," she murmured, and he nodded, following her. He stayed close to her, unable to leave her side from fear that she would disappear. He watched as she carefully placed Brenton in the middle of the bed and scooted in quickly next to him, turning her eyes to Chuck.

"Come here," she encouraged him and, slowly, Chuck walked to the other side of the bed. He shed his jacket and shoes and slipped into the bed, watching the son stir slowly. Blair ran her fingers through his hair, kissing his little ears and cheeks.

There was such warmth in the scene before him that Chuck felt like an intruder. He felt like an outsider, a boy being read a story before bed.

The baby slowly woke, blinked his little eyes and looked right at Chuck. Chuck watched him with utmost curiosity as the baby slowly rolled himself towards Chuck, sticking his thumb in his mouth and studying him. He reached out with his other little hand and touched Chuck's face.

Chuck froze, feeling that lovely touch of innocence on him. Unafraid, and with such trusting purity.

"Hello," Chuck finally said, unable to think of anything else to tell the child.

Brenton pushed himself up on his little elbows and rolled over to sit up and stare at Chuck.

"Dada," he repeated what he had said before, and Chuck felt something tugging inside of him.

"Yes, baby, that is Daddy," Blair finally broke into his thoughts, and Brenton stared at her and then back at Chuck.

"Dada," he told Blair, as if explaining to her that he had found him. "Mama, mi Dada!"

Blair laughed lightly and grabbed the baby, peppering him with kisses. Chuck watched, still feeling like an outsider as Blair's openly displayed her affection for their child. Chuck sunk closer to the bed and stared at the baby.

"How does he know me?" He asked Blair, and Brenton turned to Chuck, his eyes bright at seeing his father once more. He went to Chuck and grabbed his hair.

"I show him your picture each morning. He's very smart," Blair smiled, prying Brenton's small fingers from Chuck's hair.

"Mine!" Brenton protested to his mother, and Chuck couldn't help but smile. His son definitely took after him.

He watched as Brenton rubbed his eyes sleepily. "He's tired, poor thing," Blair whispered.

"I told you not to wake him," Chuck protested, but Blair simply grabbed the baby and set him on top of Chuck. Chuck stared at the baby and he stared right back, but he slowly set his little head down on his chest and sighed happily.

Blair stared at Brenton studying Chuck, and she felt she was watching a small mirror scene. Brenton looked much more like Chuck than she had ever admitted to herself. The same dark, straight hair, the same complexion, eyes and stubborn nature.

She watched in awe as Brenton, sleepy as he was, slowly lowered himself on top of Chuck and sighed contentedly. Chuck had a look of pure panic on his face. She wordlessly reached out and showed him where to place his hands, cradling his small head against his chest. Brenton promptly stuffed his thumb in his mouth while staring adoringly at his mother and began to fall asleep.

"You're so good at this, Blair," Chuck murmured to her.

She smiled sadly. "I've just had more practice than you have, that's all." She scooted herself closer to him. He was real. He was here, and he was holding their son. She loved this moment. She would treasure it. Always. Here, warm in the bed, their little family together at last. Something she had thought she would never get to see in this life or the next.

"Mama…" Brenton murmured, and she kissed his forehead.

"I'm here, baby boy," she whispered, and Chuck watched her with unblinking eyes. "Stay… if only for awhile."

"I'll stay," he finally acquiesced, and there in the deep night, she and her baby fell asleep. His words resonating in her inner thoughts.

I'll stay, he said.

Chuck couldn't sleep, not only because he was a vampire, but because this felt like someone had just shoved him down a rabbit hole. It was there that he realized that, no matter what happened, he could never really be part of their life. When he was awake, they would be asleep. When Brenton came from school upset over something, he would not be there. When Blair felt overwhelmed in the mornings, he wouldn't be able to pitch in and help. He was perpetually locked out of his own life.

And there was only one person to blame for all of this.

Luther.

Anger, the seed which he never thought he would have against his maker, planted itself in him - and the water it needed to grow would soon come knocking at his door.

For who was Chuck Bass if he was not attempting to plot something?

He was so lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't hear the elevator chime. His body tensed and Brenton shifted on him. His ears perked up and he felt a female enter the home. If his sense of smell was correct, it was Serena and her overly fruity perfume. There were also others with her. He quickly took his son, after holding him for another brief moment and savoring the feel of his innocent body, and set him in the bed next to Blair. The baby instinctively curled into Blair and she wrapped her arm around him. He stared at the two most important people in his life for a moment before he slunk out of the room just in time. He saw Serena peek into the room from the other side of the door and realized Nate was with her.

"We'll talk when she wakes up," he heard Nate say as they closed the door behind them. Chuck waited; he still had a few more hours before the sun made its way to the sky and took his family away once more. So he went back into the room, locking the door carefully.

This woke Blair, who sat up and stared at Chuck.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Serena and Nate are here… maybe some others…" he whispered, coming to her.

"Are you leaving?" She asked, and he felt all the fear carefully etched in her voice. He shook his head.

"Not right now. I can stay awhile," he nodded and kissed her gently. She tangled her hands in his hair and lulled him back into the perfect life that they could have had.

When Blair woke, she felt instantly alone. She knew Chuck was gone. The sun's rays burned into the room, reminding her of life beginning anew. She felt so incredibly torn inside. She knew that she was playing a game in which someone was bound to get hurt.

On one hand, she desperately desired Chuck to be back and he was… in a way. How like Chuck! Always clauses with him, never easy or simple, always complicated. It's what made her love him. Chuck being back meant that Brenton would know his father, would love his father and be loved by him. She would have her husband, her other half.

Yet… part of her felt that this could easily turn into a disaster of grave proportions.

She glanced down to see Brenton curled into a little ball under her arm, his hair in disarray, all stuck to his face as his little toes curled. She smiled and kissed him a few times, making him stir.

A soft knock was heard at the door, and Blair looked around quickly to make sure no sign of Chuck was left. There was none. He knew well how to cover his tracks.

"Come in," she said after clearing her voice, and she was surprised to see Nate pop his head in.

"Hey," he said softly.

Blair shifted a bit, untangling herself from Brenton and walking to Nate.

"Hey," she replied and hugged him quickly, walking out with him. "Where's Serena?"

She instantly noticed he was nervous. Her eyes narrowed. Her friends really did underestimate her and often. Only Chuck had ever really noticed how sharp she was.

"She's –" Nate stuttered. "Well… she's here."

And as they rounded the corner, she was stunned to find her entire family there. Staring at her. Serena, Lily, Eleanor, Harold, Roman, Cyrus, Eric and even Rufus. Dorota was glaring at them angrily, and that was when Blair really knew something was really, really wrong.

"What's going on here?" She snapped at them.

Serena came forth, her hands up. "B… we need to talk…"

Her mother, not enjoying the pacifist in Serena, stood up abruptly and stared at Blair. "Blair, what is this about you thinking Charles is alive?"

Blair looked on incredulously at Serena. "S!" Her heart hammered in her chest, unable to believe that Serena would spill her secret.

"I was worried!" Serena cried, looking rightfully guilty and nervous.

"She should be – Blair, this is insane!" Her mother nearly yelled.

"Now, my dear –" Cyrus tried to step in.

"Blair, I just don't understand where this is coming from. You were doing so well!" Lily said in her most disappointed voice.

"Nothing is certain, she's just had a very traumatic experience. This is most likely a consequence of that," her father defended her, standing up.

"He's right, we don't know what she went through while she was kidnapped," Eric stood up with Harold.

"I was not kidnapped!" Blair cried indignantly.

"Then where were you?" Her mother demanded. "You're gone for hours and hours, and you're found wounded and in need of a blood transfusion!"

"I was –"

"With Chuck," Serena finished. "You said Chuck took you."

"This is ridiculous, Blair. Listen to us," Lily said, gravely concerned.

"It's obvious that, like Harold said, something happened." Rufus spoke up. "She just needs help."

"Ok, that's it. Everyone out!" Blair snapped. "Out of my house, and that includes you¸ Serena!"

Nate came up behind her and placed a hand without warning on her shoulder. "Blair – please –"

But Blair, still so shaken up from fighting vampires and being attacked by her family, elbowed Nate on instinct as hard as her small frame could, making him drop to the floor, gasping.

The entire place was silent as they all stared at her in shock. She knew she had messed up. Blair Waldorf had never been violent like this. Never to her friends. She felt her hands shake, and all she could think was that if they all thought her to be crazy, they would take Brenton from her. That thought alone make her panic, and realize she needed to back up a few steps.

"Nate… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

But all she saw from Nate's face was a clear "you're not well". She gulped thickly.

Tearing himself from Blair and Brenton had nearly split him in half. Leaving their warmth and love was overbearing, and he felt that it would be the last time he ever held them, would ever be part of them.

But he had to go; he had only minutes before the sun came and locked him in with her, risking everything. So he jumped on his limo, which had been waiting for him, and rushed up to his room before the rays could deter him.

The moment he locked the door behind him, he knew he was not alone. And he knew who was waiting for him.

He felt his blood run cold, and all the peaceful thoughts that had been with him since Blair had come back into his life flittered out of his mind. He knew it was coming, but actually living it was a complete different thing. Like a naughty child caught by his father.

"My childe…" Luther's voice came to him before his visage did.

There was Luther seated regally before the fireplace, staring darkly at Chuck. It was as if he'd never come to New York. As if he were in Italy once more, under his master's dominating presence. It was moving back home with one's parents after living on your own. It was asphyxiating.

"My, my, how you've grown," he said.

Chuck shifted. His instinct was to bow before his master, but there was a rebellious streak in him. The new anger he felt towards his maker sprouted roots at that moment. He refused to kneel.

He was Chuck fucking Bass, and he wouldn't bend over for anyone. Anyone.

Luther smiled a wide, malevolent smile. "Have you met Alexander?"

Chuck turned and, out from behind Luther strolled Alexander, another sick smile on his face.

"Oh… Me and the little Prince go way back."

To be continued

A/N: And the next bit should be here around Tuesday, thank you so much for reading!