Part 38
Since he was three years old, Chuck Bass had been to all the most beautiful places in the whole world. When he was three, his father took him to Disneyland. Bart's girlfriend then had been a just legalized haute couture model, so the trip had been for both the son and the young girlfriend's entertainment. When Chuck was four, his father took him on a trip to the Star Wars museum. By then Bart had been dating a movie producer, so he had thought to impress the woman by closing the establishment to the public. Chuck could then hog everything.
Chuck was eight years old the first time he saw Paris. But he could still remember being left in his hotel suite while Bart took out a Parisian painter to dinner. The date would be in the Eiffel Tower, Bart told the boy. When Chuck woke up in the middle of the night plagued by a nightmare, he had looked out the window to see the breathtaking lights of Paris.
In the morning his father woke him up and told him that the Parisian painter, Isabel was her name if Chuck remembered correctly, would take him to the Louvre. And Chuck learned under her tutelage and lilting English the greatest works of art that the Renaissance produced.
When he was in third grade his entire class at St Jude's took a trip to the pyramids, and the boys were in awe at the majestic buildings. But it did not compare to their fourth grade trip to China when they all formed a line to cross a portion of the Great Wall. Everyone was happy, but the school was ecstatic.
Field trips in any other school did not get as much profit as the creative choices that the headmaster made.
He was twelve when he visited Morocco. It was sophisticated, but underneath it was sleazy and interesting and all kinds of addicting. A boy who would soon be in his teens adored it. Fast cars and classy women who were loose all underneath their designer clothes. The buildings were gorgeous, and the casinos had every color of light invented to man.
Every classical ballet, he had seen. Every opera, he had heard. Every cuisine, he had tasted.
But there was no sight more beautiful than the slightly puffy skin around Blair's eyes when she opened them.
There was no sound more staggering than her raspy voice when she cleared his throat and begged for water.
No taste ever been so delectable than her mouth as she pulled herself awake.
"Good morning," he greeted. Maybe he needed water too. He was as dry as the Sahara, which he incidentally had never visited. At the strength of her grasp, he knew someday he could visit it with her.
"Is it morning?" she said softly. "That hangover was a bitch."
"The kind of anesthetic they gave you would have that effect. Pity I didn't discover it when I was young and unruly," Chuck told her.
"Thank God for small favors," she murmured. Blair raised her heavy arm and then placed a hand on his cheek. "You look like hell."
Her eyes were puffy; her hand bloated and hot around the tube sticking out from the back. Her lips were dry and cracked, and her hair was a frightening mess.
"You're stunning," he assured her.
She smiled tearfully at him, allowing him to lie because it was exactly what she needed. She drew her hand down and rested it on her left breast. Chuck felt the steady thumping under his hand, stronger than usual. The monitor beside her head showed him the rhythm still unsteady, but better than the night before.
"Are they beautiful?" Blair asked, her hands tightening around his.
"Of course they are."
But she could tell when his voice was off, and he knew it from the moment he spoke.
"You haven't seen them," Blair surmised.
"I was waiting for you."
She smiled at him gratefully. When it came down to it, she was going to want to tell the children that she and Chuck saw them together for the first time. She was just that competitive. "You didn't even check to see if they were okay?" she asked, almost seeming to force herself to give up childish competition. She was a mother now.
But you never took that away from Blair Waldorf-Bass. Just like you never took away the fact that she would forever be a queen. "Your entire clan is there," he told her. Her tired eyes sparkled in triumph. "And so is mine."
"Who arrived first?"
And he had talked to Lily even as the woman raced to the nursery. Chuck had pulled aside his stepmother when the elevator doors opened and Eleanor, Cyrus and Dorota stepped out. He had given Eleanor ten minutes headstart before allowing Lily to go.
"Your mother and her husband saw them first of course."
The brilliant smile on her face was enough to neutralize the scolding he received from Lily once Lily realized that he had held her back for no particular reason.
"And then Lily. Your dad and Roman arrived a couple of hours later. They all said the babies are beautiful."
She nodded. "Did the doctors tell you anything? Are they going to be okay? They're still so young."
"You son is four pounds and nine ounces, and your daughter is just under five pounds," he said gently. Her face crumpled, and Chuck noticed the deep breath she took. Realizing his mistake, he quickly amended, "That is very good, Blair. They're heavier than many twins at seven and a half months of gestation."
He would not be able to completely reassure her until she had seen the babies, but at least she was less pale, less afraid. He pressed the call button for the nurse.
"Gestation?" She crinkled her nose. "You sound like you've memorized the doctor's words."
"Didn't I tell you?" he said to her. "I have photographic memory."
She grinned. "Yet you never got anything better than a C on tests that required memory work."
"I don't use my powers on any old boring test. But this," he assured her, "this I'm interested in." She smiled. "How are you feeling?"
"I feel like I've been sliced open and someone went through my insides before sewing me back up." She sat up on the bed, then winced and grabbed her healing wound. Chuck caught her by her arm and eased her up. He pressed the button on her bed to elevate the head. "Wait," she said, gritting her teeth. "That's exactly what happened to me."
"That's right," Chuck said easily. "And we agreed that you're going to use it for your own gain for as many times as you want."
She laughed softly, careful not to overdo it for fear of her wound ripping. "You are going to be such a pushover."
He shrugged. "I have two children now. I'm going to end up a pushover either way."
"Chuck, about Jack—"
He hushed her, then placed his thumb on her lips. "Doesn't matter one bit."
She grasped his wrist with her hand, then pulled his hand away. She was going to speak, and she was going to address it, no matter what he said. And he would have preferred that they buried it deep down where it would take tornadoes and earthquakes, hurricanes and tsunamis to unearth it.
But she was determined to speak and so he kept himself silent, steeled himself against whatever hurt that it would cause.
After all, he had vanished—abandoned her after she told him she loved him.
He hurt her more than anyone had ever done before.
He prepared himself to hear her blame it on the way he left.
"You're right," she said, her voice strong. "It didn't matter. Not at all. Not like a single kiss from you mattered."
The tension in his shoulders released, seeping through his clothes and melting down into the floor.
"It was one night," Blair confessed to him. For the first time, her voice tightened, broke almost. "You can't know how much I hated myself for it."
He shook his head. "No more," he said, despising the idea that Jack had done as much. Directly or not, Jack Bass had given her cause to feel that way about herself. Directly or not, he contributed to her view of herself that led to all this. "You're my wife," he told her. "No one hates my wife and gets away with it."
She nodded, smiling through the moisture that seeped from her eyes. "Everyone is required to love Mrs Bass."
Chuck kissed her temple. "We'll make this perfect. I swear." He glanced behind him at the door, then straightened at the sight of the nurse. He tried to speak louder, because his voice had taken that volume that he reserved only for her when they were in bed. "Have you been there long, Lola?"
The nurse shook her head. "Just now, Mr Bass. Blair, how are you?"
Blair buried her face in Chuck's shirt to dry her eyes. It was Chuck who answered for her. "We'd like to see the twins."
The nurse responded, "Of course. I'll bring in a wheelchair."
When Lola returned with the wheelchair and offered to help, Chuck waved her to the drip. Blair looked towards the nurse in confusion. "Lola, I'm still a little tender," she said. When she straightened, she hissed, "A lot tender."
"It's alright, Blair." Chuck placed her arm around his shoulders. He winked at the nurse. "Lola has to check on your drip. Let me help you to your chair." Chuck helped her up in slow, small movements. "Easy. Not so fast. The last time I talked to your father, he said the children's legs are still a little too short for them to run away."
She giggled, then groaned in complaint. "Don't make me laugh please. It hurts."
"Sorry," he muttered.
Chuck helped her into the chair. He then picked up a large Hermes scarf and placed it over her lap. Lola pushed the drip to her side. Chuck held up a hand. Blair grinned. "What now? Another joke?"
"No," he answered. Chuck turned his back on her, then bent down to pick up something from the bottom shelf of the bedside table, showing him a rather good view of her ass. When he straightened, he found her smirking. "Anything funny?"
She licked her lips. "Were you trying to turn me on, Mr Bass?" She jerked her head towards Lola, who had on a grin as well. "Or was the target Lola, given that I won't be able to sleep with you for a few more months at least?" He shook his head, completely at a loss. "Your ass, Mr Bass. Your ass is mine. Don't go flaunting it to every random other woman."
He felt the flush climb in his cheeks. "I wasn't—"
She extended her hand towards him. "I was kidding." He took her hand and let her tug him towards her. "Come here, Mr Bass."
He bent down and kissed the top of her head, then nodded at Lola. "Let's see if the kids got lucky and look more like Mrs Bass than they do me."
Blair chuckled, then squeezed his hand. "I don't know. I think the babies will look gorgeous if they look like you."
"That's because you love me," he answered. Chuck held up her bag, then opened it and handed her her small makeup bag. "They're armed with one camera each," he informed her, referring the friends and family who were already outside the nursery. "I know you don't want to look like you just got out of surgery in the pictures. They'll be all over Facebook and all the baby albums."
"You said I looked stunning."
"You're stunning to me. But I'm not taking the chance that you'll hate me in a few months when you look back at the pictures."
He was right and she knew it. Blair popped open her powder case and looked at herself in the mirror. She winced at the sight, then patted powder under her eyes and on her nose. She popped open the lip gloss container and wiped a sheen over her lips. Blair peered inside her bag, then pursed her lips. "I don't have a brush."
Chuck took a comb from his pocket, then showed it to her. "I have mine." She reached for it. Chuck held it away from her. "Are we that close already?" he teased.
"I just had two—" she held up two fingers, "—of your babies."
He ran the comb quickly through her hair. Chuck picked up the headband from inside her bag, then placed it on her head.
Chuck pushed the wheelchair out of the room and down the corridor with Lola pushing the drip after them. The nurse pushed the elevator call button. While they waited, Chuck leaned down. He kept his lips close to her ear, then admitted, "What would you say if I told you I had never in my life been this excited and breathless and afraid all at the same time?"
She smiled, then whispered back, "What about when you married me?"
He smirked. "Which time?" She cocked her head. He continued, "Because the first time I thought I was getting away with tricking you, so I was exhilarated. The second time, I was just overwhelmed. Both times, I was the happiest man alive."
She almost looked disappointed. "You weren't afraid at all?"
He thought back to the days, then nodded. "Maybe a little. I was always a little afraid you'd back out."
"That's sweet, and such a lie."
"No lie," he swore, his gaze serious. "I wasn't ever afraid of this. The moment I was sure I loved you, there was no turning back. We were always going to end up like this."
The elevator doors opened, and Chuck wheeled her in. Lola stepped in after them. Blair took a deep breath and released it with a shudder. "You're too much," she said. "Something is with you today. From the moment I woke up, you've been too much."
The elevator doors opened, and Chuck reached down to hold the elevator. He knelt down in front of Blair in the wheelchair.
"Chuck, I think it's illegal to hold an elevator in a hospital building," Blair cautioned.
Chuck sighed, then wheeled her out and started the elevator again. He stopped outside, then knelt in front of her again. "We were always going to end up like this. I know you, Blair. When you want someone, you dream of all these movie-perfect scenarios. Me—I make it happen. The day I knew I loved you, we were heading towards this."
Lola stepped away from them, made her way to the nurse's station on that floor.
"This," she repeated.
"I wanted you when I was sixteen years old, and I got you. Nate was nothing."
"So arrogant," she commented softly.
"And then when I was seventeen, I knew I was in love with you."
"Of course," she murmured. "You were just too stubborn to admit it."
He snorted. "I think I showed it enough."
"When I told you I loved you, you said 'Too bad.'"
"There's always an initial resistance before you completely accept it. I think the priest down at the Catholic church near the school knows all about initial resistance, right, Blair?" She grinned, then nodded at the reminder. "We were always going to be married early, no matter what anyone else thought. We were going to have a family, and here we are."
"So you made all this happen?" she said, her tone patronizing.
"You and I made it happen." He leaned down and captured her lips, spreading lipgloss on his own mouth. "Ready to see the children?"
"So ready," she answered. He started to straighten, then Blair caught his hand. "You're setting the bar so high, Chuck."
"What do you mean?"
"You've been too amazing. I don't want to get hurt when it stops."
"It won't," he promised. He kissed her lips. "Let's meet your children." Chuck returned to position behind the wheelchair. Lola came back to assist them, then threw Chuck an admiring look. Chuck wheeled his wife towards the nursery corridor and saw their family before they looked up to see them.
Eleanor, Harold and Dorota still stood outside the glass, cooing and waving at what would likely be a pair of sleeping children. Cyrus had taken to an animated discussion with Roman while Lily nodded along. Serena held onto Nate's arm while she blotted at her eyes.
How fitting was it that it was going to be Archibald that first spotted them?
"Mr and Mrs Bass!" Nate greeted, which was good enough for Chuck.
Chuck grinned. "Did I do a good job or what?"
Nate looked at Blair, then raised her eyebrows. "You're going to let him take credit?"
"It depends," Blair said cheerfully. "Are they cute?"
Eleanor clasped her hands together, then strode towards her daughter and wrapped her arms around her. "Sweetheart, they're adorable!"
"Means they're all you, Miss Blair," Dorota added, but stole a glance at Chuck.
Harold walked over to Chuck and handed him a cigar, then gave Roman, Nate and Cyrus one each. "Once you see them," Harold told his son-in-law, "you'll know they're mostly Blair. So just smoke a cigar with us and let the ladies fuss over the twins."
Chuck placed a cigar in his shirt pocket then pushed the wheelchair over to the glass. Serena pointed to the two clear incubators where the babies were sleeping. Blair's hand covered his on the handle of the chair.
"I want to hold them," she whispered. She pointed to the baby with a shock of thick dark hair. "Chuck, there's my daughter."
"Blair, that's the boy," Cyrus offered. He pointed to the bald baby to the side. "That's your daughter."
She blinked at Cyrus. "Are you kidding?"
Cyrus shrugged his shoulders. "They have beautiful faces."
tbc
Fluff. Lol
So I updated Heaven in Your Embrace earlier today too (Advertising for those who are not reading it)
And I will update Dark Prince of Manhattan tomorrow (Advertising for those who have not yet discovered it)