A/N: This is the beginning of my favorite bunch of chapters that I've written. For obvious reasons. 3x17 had so many good quotes and really produced some of my best work, I think, with the amount of angst. So I hope you enjoy the three upcoming chapters...and everything after as well.

Summary: Just like last year, destruction would still be at the hands of Blair Waldorf. Now, just like when Chuck was a naïve seventeen-year-old, Blair would always result in his destruction.

Disclaimer: Quotes belong to Season 3 of GG and all inspiration is from the most trandscendent couple Chuck and Blair. Thanks so much to my wonderful beta comewhatmay.x whose throat I practically forced this down.

Anything

It's an interesting feeling, holding another man's prized possession. You wonder how far he'll go to get it back. if there's anything he wouldn't do.

I will do anything.

Well there is something that's caught my eye.

"Voices were raised. Expletives were used."

Jack Bass never gave much thought to it. Destroy, destroy, destroy. That was it. He was here for one reason and one reason only. And if Blair Waldorf would help him with his agenda, he would use that to his full advantage. It was almost strange how this time, Chuck actually knew what he was doing. He just didn't think it would end the way that Jack knew it would.

But just like last year, destruction would still be at the hands of Blair Waldorf. Now, just like when Chuck was a naïve seventeen-year-old, Blair would always result in his destruction.

So Jack waited to see the blonde stepsister leave the brunette alone—vulnerable to the kill.

It didn't take much. Like always, what he couldn't help but admit when he came across the glamorous nineteen-year-old.

He couldn't blame Chuck.

"I'd rather spend the night with the Marquis de Sade."

Her tongue was quick and sharp.

"And yes, I know he's dead."

If there was anyone that seemed to be bred to take on a Bass, it was Blair Waldorf. And he would use that against her.

What he couldn't help but think was how much she resembled Chuck's mother. Cold and ruthless, doing whatever she could to get what she wanted. It was a sad thing, how all she wanted was Chuck. She wanted his happiness and his protection.

It would result in her demise.

But it was the reason Jack was drawn to her. Why any Bass could never help but be pulled in by her. Why that first night more than a year ago, wild beneath her recognizeable cold exterior that he just couldn't help himself. And even when he returned with whom she had truly wanted, he had received no thanks.

It was true the thanks he had been anticipating wouldn't have included words, but she had still refused him. She still rejected him. And even now, as he watched her browse through racks at Matthew Williamson, his fascination seemed to never cease.

He thought his nephew a fool for being so weak, but he could still understand it. And it was true that he would never drop that much money on a dress, but seeing her in it made it worth pretending to.

At first it had just been an intriguing social experiment on Jack's part. He knew that he had to destroy the vile detritus that had stolen everything from him. He just didn't think it would be so easy to lure Chuck to that destruction. Jack could smell the desperation upon him, and the truly amusing thing was that his nephew actually thought he could have it all.

But watching Blair Waldorf, with her infinite beauty and calculation, he liked the idea of using it. He liked the idea of using her to, once again, take everything from the boy.

Because even though The Empire represented everything that Bart didn't think Chuck could be, to the boy, Blair Waldorf was everything.

That was what was so tragic about it.

Killed

I'm already dead.

You still have your photo.

A formality. Although you're welcome to kill me again if you like.

He had to push his remorse away. From the moment he'd had his meeting with Jack, he knew it was the only way he would survive. It was something that his father would be proud of. He wasn't weak. He wasn't letting his feelings cost him everything that he had built. She would understand. He was doing what he had to win. She had to understand.

It was Blair.

He hated it. In the small moments when he was by himself, scornful at his own reflection, he could admit that he hated it. He hated himself. He hated how much he had become like his father.

But this was what he had to do. He had to prove to himself that Bart was wrong. He could be strong.

Blair would understand. She had to.

And it was in those moments alone, the only thing he could do was remind himself.

She had done it before. She had done Jack before. It wouldn't matter. None of it would. They had done this sort of thing before. He had attempted to seduce Vanessa for her before. Why should this be any different?

But he knew it. He knew it in his gut that this was tearing him apart. He felt her hesitate by that table as he ascended the stairs to her room, and he knew it was imminent. She wouldn't be able to resist coming to his rescue behind his back. It was all falling into place. Just as he had planned.

And yet, there was that feeling. That feeling that he just couldn't understand. He watched his best friend and his stepsister hug and kiss, and he wished it were that easy. He wished that he could do this. He knew he had to survive.

Even if he already felt death.

A game for Nathaniel seemed so trivial. All he had to do was wait.

And wait.

Teenagers cloaked in black came shuffling back in, and Serena was so innocent. She good-naturedly asked where Blair was, and for a moment, Chuck could fool himself. He pretended that the game mattered to her too and she was still out playing it.

But she wasn't.

He felt the horror strike his heart even though he knew exactly what had happened.

One last chance to save your man.

It was like he hadn't even planned it to begin with. He picked up the card in what seemed like slow motion, feeling ill and shaken to core.

He felt like dying.

He didn't think it would feel like this. Once again, all alone, he felt himself start to break. If this would save his hotel, he knew he had to do it. She had to understand. She just had to. But it was the thought of them together. He believed he could just get through this if his hotel was safe.

But it was the thought of them together.

The thought that they had together been before and that Jack would take every perverse pleasure in violating her.

And he broke.

He refused to let his feelings cost him all that he had built. But all alone, he let himself break.

The card cut into his hand as he crumpled it violently, and he felt his legs give way as he slid to the ground against the wall, grinding his knuckles into his eyes, and refusing to let emotion tear down his face. He commanded himself not to feel. He ordered himself not to let his soul shred.

But he let a low scream rumble in the back of his throat.

And he was killed again.

Dear

I've already had his hotel. Now I'll leave knowing I've had the thing he holds even dearer.

Chuck may have been a fool, but Jack knew better than to leave it just at that. So much seemed to have happened since he was gone, but if there was one thing he had to admit, it was that his nephew had been correct.

He had changed.

It was true that he was no longer smoking in opium dens with Thai hookers, but that just made it so much easier.

If Chuck had been that broken self-destructive boy he was, he never would have sacrificed his love. Irony always had a sense of cruelty to it.

This thought first occurred to him when he had arrived back in New York. The countless numbers of pictures with Blair Waldorf at the side of someone who used to be a notorious playboy. That sad thing was, Chuck actually seemed happy.

He was happy, of course, until Jack arrived. That much was clear. How easy it had been, ripping those two apart when they barely had any threads holding them together. How easy it had been, arriving at Chuck's room, seducing him with drugs and easy women.

But it was even easier now. Chuck was sure that the hotel was the most important thing to him. It was unfortunate for him that he didn't even know what Jack was after. Blair had spotted it the moment she looked at him.

"You're a lying ooze."

He had to admire her, as he always did. He didn't care about his nephew's endeavors. He cared about what had to the potential to really pleasure him.

Jack always knew that would be Blair Waldorf. Chuck was just too possessed with his father's ghost to realize that. Even as his woman was so supportive and so loving, and Chuck should have seen that. Should have seen that Jack had used Blair before, and he would do so again.

It had been too easy.

It had been too easy to see them together, too easy to spot the connection between them.

Jack just didn't think it would be that easy tearing him apart. It had, in fact, been quite an elaborate rouse just to split them up. But that was the fun in it.

"I'm glad you came."

Fresh off his confrontation with Lily and her trophy husband in The Bartholomew Bass Room, Jack saw the two of them. Blair decked in a dazzling red number with Chuck, his head bowed in something that looked too much like remorse.

"I told you I'd meet you here."

Her voice was consoling, and Jack couldn't help but note how much worse it would get for the two of them.

"Forgive my doubt," Chuck said scornfully. Blair was quiet, finally causing the boy to look back up at her. "I hate it when you look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Blair," Chuck said sharply. But she just raised her eyebrow at him challengingly. "You don't have to ask."

"You're right." Blair smiled faintly. "I wish you would give me the same courtesy."

"I don't think I would have survived if you weren't with me," Chuck said quietly.

"Elizabeth is taking over the company," Blair said. "Everything is going to be alright."

"I wouldn't have survived."

And with a flattered smile, Blair leaned forward, and Chuck pulled her into the corner.

Even though it was clear that Chuck couldn't see it, it was certainly clear to Jack. The way Blair's face fell and her breath shook.

And as Chuck walked through the elevator, Jack knew the truth.

"Blair and I will get past this."

As Jack left, he knew Chuck needed to believe that. Because if he didn't, he wouldn't survive.