Chapter 7

Chuck awoke abruptly surrounded by darkness with the faintest buzzing growing incessantly louder somewhere in his vicinity. He sat up with a start and immediately regretted his hasty movements because suddenly his head was pounding so harshly that he was certain he could hear the blood rushing through his veins. He couldn't remember much from the past 48 hours, but blurry images of Blair in the throes of passion with another man plagued his mind. The more he tried to rid his mind of those thoughts, the more vivid the details became. He couldn't remember which combination of drugs and alcohol currently coursed through his body, but it was clearly potent enough to cause haunting hallucinations of his wife mocking him with the worst form of betrayal before they gave way to a complete blackout. He didn't remember the last time he spoke to Blair; he couldn't remember anything since meeting his old dealer under the cloak of darkness in the park and throwing wads of cash at him without bothering to count it. She was surely out of her mind with worry, but part of him felt like it was deserved for torturing him with her secrecy and lies.

The buzzing continued ceaselessly seeking his attention, and he fumbled with the stained comforter draped over his naked form. He found his phone resting between the sheets, the screen cracked so dramatically that he could barely read the words flashing behind the glass. He could just make out letters "B-l-a-". He hit the 'Ignore' button with a frustrated sigh and tossed the phone onto the nightside table beside the remnants of his bender. Her face flashed before his eyes, and he grabbed the phone to at least send her a text: "In meeting." He wasn't sure if he spelled the words correctly because he couldn't see the keyboard, but it would have to suffice. At least she would know he's not dead; he couldn't offer her more than that.

He pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, and, after tripping over bottles and shoes, he managed to slump into the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and splashed cool water on his face. When his thumb brushed his temple, he hissed at the sharp pain radiating from the tender spot on his head. With blurred vision, he carefully studied himself in the mirror and found a dark purple bruise working its way from his forehead to his left eye and down his cheek. He looked like he'd fallen down the stairs or gotten into a wreck. Groaning at the pain shooting through his whole body with each movement, he stepped back to examine himself in the full-length mirror. He had a gash slashing across his lip, still crusted with dry blood, and there were yellowing bruises covering most of his torso. His hand was wrapped in a thick bandage and his knuckles seemed to be swollen. He looked at his fingers more carefully and noted that his wedding band was missing.

Wincing, he stepped into the shower and let the hot body soak into his sore muscles. What the hell happened last night?

XOXO

"What did you do?" Blair hissed at Elijah in frustration, her eyes hardening as she glared coldly into his dark features. The first time she met him, she couldn't help but notice how handsome he was. His hair was so dark that it almost looked black, only in the most vibrant lighting could she see the dark brown strands woven into the thick waves. His skin was nearly bronze – golden and toned in all of the right places. His striking green eyes were the only light part of him, shining brightly against his tan skin and dark hair. The angles of his face were so sharp that she thought it would cut anyone who dared to touch his jaw. He was both warm and terrifying, and she found herself equally comforted and unnerved by his presence.

"I took him back to the Empire where he can sleep it off. What did you expect me to do?" His tone was sharp, but his eyes were uncertain.

"I don't know," she yelled in exasperation, throwing her hands into the air. "Take him to the hospital? What if his ribs are broken? What if –"

He tentatively placed his hands on her shoulders because tears were streaking down her face, and he didn't know how to deal with such reactions from an emotional woman. "Do you think I'm an idiot, Blair? I had a doctor meet me at the suite and paid him handsomely for his discretion," he snarked. "I would like to be reimbursed for that investment, by the way."

Blair buried her head in her hands. "I can only imagine what he thought when he saw you leaving…" She paused without finishing the thought, "Oh, God." Tears continued to wreck her face, and she didn't try to stop them. She sank to her knees on the carpet in front of the man she still didn't fully trust.

"C'mon," Elijah raked his hands through his dark hair, just as confused as Blair. "It's not that bad." Three weeks earlier, his life had been that of a corporate businessman, traveling the world, bedding exotic women, and partaking in all of life's greatest luxuries. When he had first encountered this captivating woman before him, he was certain that she was a scam artist. What else would a woman who looks like her want with a man who acts like him? When she'd presented him with the truth written plainly on carefully notarized papers, he still refused to believe her. His life had always been hard – his father, if he could even call him that, beat him daily for even the most insignificant misbehavior, and his mother, as kind as she was, was far too weak to ever stand up to that beast of a man. It wasn't until they died when he was 18 that he discovered his talent for business, and he turned his first profit by the time he was twenty-four. Now, at twenty-eight, he lived a comfortable life. He wasn't a millionaire, not by any means, but his lifestyle was well-supported by his hard work and hardy investments.

"Not that bad?" She moaned. "My husband thinks I'm cheating on him, and I guess, in a way I am because I have never lied to him like this…" She stopped and placed her hand on her abdomen. She was wrong; she had lied to him about such a serious matter once before, years earlier when she discovered the truth about their first baby. She had excused it as a lie by omission – one that would save him heartache in the long run. At the time, she had justified her silence as merciful. What good could come from that truth; after the wreck and the miscarriage, they were both already too broken to add even heavier weights to their burdened hearts. "How can I tell him the truth now? Nothing will change what I did?" She wasn't sure if she was talking about her fresh set of lies or the ones from years past that she'd buried away like a shameful secret.

"That's the reason I'm here, Blair."

"I need you to understand this," She stood and raised her chin high, looking deep into his eyes to emphasize her next words, "I won't lose him. If he accepts the truth, then you will be welcomed into this home, but if he doesn't, then you can go back to living your sordid life as if we never crossed paths."

Elijah nodded, unsure of which option sounded more appealing at the moment.

XOXO

One Day Earlier

"Where is he now?" Elijah snapped, agitated that it took so long for the PI to get back to him.

"Washington Square. You know what he's doing there," Martin Kennedy sighed. He really was good at his job, and he hated admitting that he'd screwed up.

"Fuck!" Elijah yelled loudly, causing Blair to flinch visibly. He mouthed 'Sorry' before turning his attention back to Martin. "I told you to give him as little information as possible, but to keep him on my trail so that he would stay out of trouble."

"I understand that, but as soon as I told him that you were meeting with Mrs. Bass, he hung up the phone. He's so drunk I could barely understand him. It took me an hour to track him."

"Meet me at the park. Hopefully we can get to him before he does something stupid." Elijah turned toward Blair with an apologetic look, afraid of how fragile she looked, as if she would crumble before him.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," he started with a shake of his head. "I should probably -"

"Go," her eyes glittered with tears, "If anything happens to him," her lip quivered and she looked back at him pleadingly, "Find him. Bring him back to me."

XOXO

Chuck slammed his phone against the table, shattering the screen, after taking in the appearance of the man stealthily leaving his home. Three-thousand-dollar trench coat, Bottega Veneta leather dress shoes, thick dark hair meticulously styled with copious amounts of product. He growled, noting that the man was exactly Blair's type – handsome, sophisticated, rich, and charismatic. It might only be a blurry photo from his PI, but he could read the man's demeanor perfectly. He was like him – an arrogant womanizer with too much money and too much swagger. Anger surged through his veins as he thought about Blair taking this bastard into their marital bed. He knew that Henry was with Lily; he knew that Dorota had the evening off. Now he knew that Blair was alone, in their home, with another man. He ripped off his wedding band and hurled it into the darkness of the room; he vaguely heard it clank against something metal and hit the floor.

He didn't bother calling Arthur, and he didn't bother waiting for his dealer to make a house call. He wasn't worried about discretion or self-preservation. He was in the mood to hurt, to visit the slums where he belonged. His money couldn't save him; it couldn't save his marriage. It couldn't make him worthy of her because, over a decade later, she'd finally realized that he would never live up to her expectations. He couldn't even say he blamed her for finding refuge in the arms of another man.

He stumbled down the sidewalk, gripping hundreds of dollars in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. He hadn't even bothered to conceal the alcohol in a brown bag because, at this time of night in this part of the park, no one noticed or cared. He found Oliver slouched against a tree, his signature aviators perched on his nose, his hands buried deep inside his pockets. "Chuck Bass," he called out lazily, "It's been years, man."

"I'm not here for small talk," Chuck growled, tossing the crumpled bills at him.

"Still a dick," Oliver snarked under his breath, "What do you want?" He pulled out several plastic bags filled with white powder, pills, and other illicit substances.

"All of it. I want to pass out and not remember a fucking thing."

"Well, that's gonna cost you –"

Chuck shoved another wad of cash at him, "Shut the fuck up and give it to me already."

Once he had relieved Oliver of his products, he immediately swallowed a handful of pills, shoving the rest into his pocket. The mixture of narcotics and liquor caused waves of nausea to wash over him and he stumbled to the ground, unable to right himself for several moments. When he finally stood somewhat steadily on his feet, he was once again pushed to the ground by heavy, calloused hands. His senses were too compromised to understand what was happening or to even recognize the sharp pain ripping through his body with each kick to the head and shoulders. He vaguely heard phrases like "Rich boy" ringing in his ears as multiple sets of hands tore at his pockets, searching out drugs and money.

"Just let me keep the box," he muttered, reliving a similar mugging from a decade earlier, but there was no ring to hold onto this time around.

"Yeah, they didn't let you keep anything," A masculine voice rasped with a chuckle. A different set of hands than before – this time with cleaner skin – helped him to his feet and pulled his arm over broad shoulders. He tried to seek out the form he was now holding onto, but he promptly vomited on the sidewalk and blacked out.

XOXO

Elijah carried Chuck into the back entrance of the Empire; fortunately, since it was the middle of the night, few people saw them, and anyone who did just assumed that they were two friends who'd had a little too much fun the night before. The entire way up the elevator, Chuck mumbled incoherently:

"She's my wife."

"How could she do it?"

"Knew I wasn't good enough."

"Is this baby even mine?"

Most of Chuck's ramblings made sense to Elijah; he'd gotten enough from Martin and Blair to know what conclusions Chuck had drawn, but the last statement was a surprise. Blair was pregnant? That added another level of complication to this whole ordeal.

He huffed as Chuck leaned even harder against his shoulder. He must be a lot heavier than he looks because his weight felt nearly crushing. After several long, agonizing minutes, he was finally able to push Chuck onto the bed. He called the doctor, stripped Chuck of his soiled clothing, and then took a minute to study his features. He could see her there – in his dark almond eyes, in the curve of his nose and the arch of his cheeks.

When the doctor arrived, he informed Elijah that, while Chuck's injuries would cause him a discernable amount of pain when he sobered, he would be fine once the alcohol and drugs worked their way out of his system. He injected something into Chuck's left arm and wrapped his hand in a bandage after cleaning the wounds. After once more swearing him to secrecy, Elijah led the doctor to the door and placed money into his awaiting palm.

When he returned to the bedroom, he heard Chuck moaning 'Blair' in his sleep, and he felt a mixture of guilt and curiosity. The man in front of him was clearly hopelessly in love with his wife, so much so that this was his reaction to the possibility of losing her.

Elijah briefly wondered what that kind of love was like. He'd slept with plenty of married women, and he never thought about what his indiscretions might do to a family. He was used to seeking out his own pleasure with no regard for anyone else. He had always excused his behavior by reminding himself that the woman he was with was the one who'd made a promise of fidelity, not him; he'd never committed himself to anyone, so another person's unfaithfulness wasn't his concern. Now, though, after witnessing the intense emotions of a heartbroken husband and a desperate wife, he wondered if he had it all wrong – if maybe he was the one actually missing out.

He awkwardly pulled the comforter over Chuck's nearly nude form and scoffed, "Hell of a first meeting." He quietly exited the suite to return to Blair and relieve some of her anxiety, but more than anything he wanted answers. She owed him the truth, almost as much as she owed it to Chuck.

XOXO

"So you hid her letters?" Elijah asked in exasperation, ignoring Blair's body quaking under the weight of his accusations.

"I burned them," she answered meekly. "I thought it was for the best if she thought -"

He tried to keep from raising his voice, but he was so angry with her. He couldn't even begin to imagine how enraged Chuck would be by her rash actions. "You thought it was for the best? What made this your decision?!"

Her eyes grew cold, and she narrowed them in his direction, unwilling to allow this stranger to make her feel even more guilt than she already did. "You weren't here," she growled. "You didn't see him the last time; you don't know what it did to him, to us -"

"Well, I know what you did to him!" he shot harshly, his words landing right in the middle of her chest, searing her heart. "Could it really have been as bad as that?"

"I understand you are angry with me," she exhaled slowly, lowering her voice. She knew that they would get nowhere with this discussion if they continued to hurl insults instead of coming to an agreement. "My husband may never forgive me for what I've done, but I can't change it now. She's dead. We have to face that fact." Tears slid down her cheeks, and she wept into her hands quietly before wiping her face with her kerchief. "I was just trying to protect him and my son. I didn't even know -"

He felt the heaviness in his stomach growing in intensity, and shame washed over him for causing her even more pain than she was already in. In truth, he didn't really blame her; it was just easier to be angry with her than with a dead woman. He slowly reached over and squeezed her hand, "I know. I'm sorry for blaming you. This isn't your fault, at least not completely. She had every chance -"

Blair sniffled and gave him a slight sad smile to express her gratitude. "I'm sorry, too," she said. "But now I'm afraid that he's going to hate me as much as he hated her. He had trouble trusting her; I encouraged him to let her in, and she betrayed him. Now, I've done the same."

"It's not possible for him to hate you, Blair," he assured her. "You aren't Elizabeth Fisher. He'll be angry and hurt; you have to be prepared for that, but I have never seen a man as in love with a woman as he is with you. He would lose everything in this world before he'd lose you. I know that I don't know either of you very well, but even an idiot could see that much."

"Will you help me?" she asked softly.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised. "Now, let's come up with a plan. He's going to be waking up soon and wonder what went down last night."

A/N: So it's been a while! If anyone is still actually reading this story, sorry for the long delay! The pieces are coming together slowly, but Chuck is still completely in the dark. Keep in mind that he's pretty much confused and wasted this entire chapter, so he isn't thinking clearly.

Side note: I know nothing about drugs or drug deals, so if that part seems unrealistic or cheesy, please forgive me. :)