Chapter 5 – Sirens

It was late afternoon and Blair was in laying in her bed, curtains drawn and her room dark. Louis had left an hour ago and she just wanted to hide under the covers, hide in the darkness of her room. The bleakness of her life. She hurt everywhere – there had never been a punishment like this before. By the time she had come home, Louis had completely sobered up, so all of his punches had landed. There was a particularly bad ache on her left side; Every time she breathed she could feel stabbing pains. But she ignored it. She had deserved it, after all.

She had texted Dorota, telling her she wasn't needed today, so instead she heard the strangers she had hired clean up her mess of her apartment. She didn't trust them at all, but pulling herself into a sitting position, she knew, would hurt too much, so she stayed still and hoped they wouldn't steal anything.

Get up, you're Blair Waldorf. Blair listened to the voice inside her head, for once. She pulled herself into a sitting position on her bed, gritting her teeth at the pain she felt in her side. One more time, she thought to herself. Louis had hit her worse than he ever had, and she needed some semblance of control. She took the back staircase to the kitchen and grabbed a bag of potato chips, a pint of Ben & Jerry's and some Brie cheese and crackers. Feast in hand, she padded back to her room.

She devoured the food quickly and when she finished she felt painfully full. She needed a release. Walking to her bathroom, she leaned down onto the tile of her bathroom floor, right in front of her toilet. Blair stared down into the bowl of the toilet, contemplating. Do you really want to? A brief moment of pause. Yes. She put her fingers down her throat and felt some of her feast come back up. Not enough. Again. It still wasn't enough. The third time she put her fingers down her throat, pain exploded inside of her, something ripping within in her body, and her vision went dark, stars dancing in her eyes. Blair took a deep breath and the ache she felt breathing earlier was now unbearable. She was dizzy and disoriented. She looked to her right, and it seemed like the earth was slipping away as she did so, but she saw her phone. She grabbed the phone before it could slip off the cliff with the rest of her world.

He answered on the second ring, "Blair?"

"Chuck," she whispered. Focus. Talk. You can do this, she thought as her consciousness continued to slip away.

"Blair!?"

"Need you," she whimpered, feeling herself fading quickly.

"I'm here, baby, what do you need?"

She barely heard him. "911…" she responded before she dropped her phone and fell into the dark.

Xoxo.

Chuck was heading back to the Upper East Side when he got the call from Blair. Need you. He could tell she was barely coherent. He knew something was wrong, because he could tell Blair wasn't quite there. 911. Once he heard Blair's phone hit the floor, Chuck hadn't hesitated for a second, quickly dialing 911. "I have an emergency. Myfriend. I don't know what's wrong but she sounded out of it and asked me to call 911," he barked into the phone. "Please hurry, I'm on my way to her now," he continued, giving the operator Blair's address.

Chuck's limo pulled up to Blair's apartment 10 minutes later and he jumped out of the car before it had even stopped all the way. There was an ambulance and a firetruck directly in front of the building and Chuck rushed forward, desperately looking for any sign of Blair. His world stopped when he saw what was coming towards him from Blair's building. A stretcher, occupied by a short, petite body with thick chocolate curls. "Blair!" he yelled.

One of the EMTs stopped him. "You can't be here, man."

"I was the one who made the call. There's no one else here. Let me ride with her."

The EMT looked around before nodding. "Fine. Get in."

Chuck jumped into the ambulance and took a seat where the EMT nodded. Chuck grabbed Blair's limp hand as he watched the EMTs work, tossing around medical terms that didn't hold any meaning to him. Blair was gray and ashen, with a slight blue tinge to her lips. For the first time, Chuck saw Blair look fragile, like she might just break and burst into smithereens, like an actual porcelain doll.

Hang on, baby, you can do this.

The ambulance arrived at the hospital, and Chuck felt his hand being yanked from Blair's as the EMTs starting to unload her from the back of the ambulance "I want to stay with her…"

"You can't, man. You'll have to wait in the waiting room while the ER doctor checks her out," said the EMT.

Chuck nodded dumbly. What the fuck is happening right now?

"You should call her friends and family," offered the EMT.

"Right…."

Who did he call? Blair wanted no one to know about her issues with Louis, and Chuck was certain this had to do with Louis. Logically, the only person he could call was Serena, at least for now. Pulling out his phone, he found Serena's contact and dialed.

"Hey, Chuck," she answered almost immediately.

"Serena, you need to get to Lennox Hill. Now."

"Lennox Hill? Chuck – what's going on?" she responded, confused.

"Blair. She's in the ER. You need to come now."

"I'm on my way now, Chuck. What happened?" Serena asked, breathless on the other end as she tore through her apartment looking for her bag and shoes.

"I don't know. I – I can't talk about it right now. Just hurry up and get here," Chuck replied, pushing down a sob in his throat.

"I'll be there soon, Chuck."

Xoxo.

Serena hurried into the ER waiting room at Lennox Hill, finding Chuck instantly. "Chuck!" she called breathlessly. She quickened her pace to get to reach him. "Chuck, what's going on?"

Chuck's eyes were black as he looked into hers. "I don't know, Serena. They won't tell me anything."

"Have you called Eleanor?" Serena asked, taking his hand.

"Not yet. I wanted to wait until you got here. I don't know what to do," Chuck managed, his voice strangled. "I don't know what's going on, but I know it has to do with him. And she doesn't want anyone to know. I haven't slept, I've been through three bottles of scotch in 48 hours. I'm not the best person to be making decisions right now." Chuck buried his head in his hands. "I thought about it. I really did. Tell me calling Eleanor is the right thing to do and I'll fucking do it, Serena."

Serena squeezed Chuck's hand. "Let's wait," she said with a small smile. "Just a little bit longer. Until we can talk to her."

Chuck nodded and closed his eyes, resting his head in his hands, exhaling shakily. "What if she dies, Serena?" he asked quietly, finally speaking the words he had been thinking since Blair called him, asking him to call 911.

"Chuck, she's not going to die. This is Blair Waldorf remember? She's the strongest person we know. Probably the strongest person on the face of this planet." Serena went to squeeze his hand.

Chuck shook his head slowly. "She used to be. Every time I see her now, it's like there's another piece of Blair missing. I saw one tiny crack, and even then, it was too late. Now the littlest thing….and she'll shatter. Maybe she already has. Tonight has been the single most horrifying night of my life, Serena."

"Chuck…" Serena was at a loss for words. She had never seen Chuck this emotional before, save the day of his father's funeral. Even more surprising, Chuck Bass was actually talking to her about his feelings. "Does Louis know she's here?" Why the fuck can't you keep your mouth shut, Serena. She knew it was the absolute worst thing she could say in the moment.

Chuck's head snapped up at that and his voice was gruff as he spoke, "Why the fuck would I tell him?"

"He is her fiancée…" Serena trailed off. Foot? Meet mouth. You are so dumb.

"I am aware of that, Serena," Chuck growled. "He also had something to do with – with whatever is going on right now. I am not calling him. He doesn't even care – He's probably with his mistress anyway."

Serena's mouth dropped open at Chuck's admission, visibly shocked. "What did you just say?"

"He's having an affair. I found out today," he replied darkly.

"Chuck…"

"Can you stop with the Chuck dot dot dot? I'm not really in the mood for dealing with your comprehension skills or inability to connect the dots right now."

Serena closed her mouth at that. "Sorry," she mumbled.

The stepsiblings sat in silence for hours, Serena still holding Chuck's hand in her own when a nurse made her way into the waiting room. "Chuck

?" she asked, looking pointedly at him.

"Yes?" he answered hopefully.

"Blair Waldorf is awake, and she's asking for you," answered the nurse. "Come with me."

"I'll let her know you're here, Serena," he answered, softening towards his stepsister now that he knew Blair was at the very least alive.

The nurse led Chuck down the dim corridor before stopping in front of a door. "She's awake, but exhausted. She's also heavily medicated, so take it easy on her."

"You can't tell me what's wrong with her, can you?" Chuck asked her, imporingly.

The nurse just smiled back sadly. "Not at the moment, no. You aren't immediate family and she doesn't even know what's happened yet. Once the doctor talks to her, things may change."

Chuck didn't even try to fight with the nurse – he was just too tired. He simply nodded and walked into Blair's room. The room was dim and stark and way too white and sterile. God, I hate hospitals. Blair was laying in the bed with her eyes closed. She looked way too small and frail, and her face was ashen. Her curls were spread across the hospital pillow but they looked limp and lifeless, lacking their usual glossy sheen. "Blair," he whispered into the darkness, hoping she hadn't fallen asleep, that she was still awake, still there. Still alive. The thought ignited a panic in his brain. He rushed to her, having to make sure she was still breathing. "Blair?" he asked once again, more urgently.

"Chuck," she whispered, without opening her eyes.

"I'm here. I'm here." Chuck knelt down next to her bed and grabbed her exposed hand in both of us, pulling it to his lips and softly kissing. "I'm here," he whispered again.

"Hi," she said quietly in response.

Blair turned her head to face him, and slowly opened her eyes. They were blank and glassy. No shit about the medications. "Hey, yourself," he replied, managing a soft smile. "You scared me for a minute there, Waldorf." Blair blinked a few times, and Chuck her pupils shrink slightly, becoming slightly more focused.

"What happened?" she asked him quietly.

"I don't really know, Blair. The doctors won't tell me anything. You called me, and you sounded completely out of it. You asked me to call 911 and then you dropped your phone. So here we are," he responded, kissing her hand again.

"Oh," she replied softly, closing her eyes.

"You should sleep, Blair," Chuck said to her softly, repeating her own words to him from the other night.

"Will you stay with me…?" Blair whispered, trailing off, clearly exhausted.

"Yes, baby. I'll stay with you," answered Chuck easily. "Always."

Xoxo.

Chuck woke up in the middle of the night to Blair moaning and crying in her sleep. At some point, he had moved a chair towards her bed and fallen asleep in it with her hand still tangled with his own. Listening to her cries, he was immediately awake. "Blair," he said softly, trying to wake her up. He saw the sweat glistening on her forehead, and the way her jaw clenched. Chuck realized she wasn't having a nightmare - she was in pain. His heart started thumping loudly – he couldn't stand the amount of pain she seemed to be in. He disentangled his fingers from hers and softly as he could before standing and walking out of the room. He had to find a nurse, now.

Walking out of Blair's room, Chuck found the nurses' station. The same nurse from earlier was seated in front of a computer, a cup of coffee in hand. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Is there something you can give her? She's in pain and crying in her sleep."

The nurse looked up at Chuck, and sighed. "It's been a few hours, I suppose I can give her a little bit more morphine so she can sleep peacefully."

Morphine? She's in that much fucking pain?

Chuck remembered the first time he had taken morphine. He had thrown a party the summer before freshman year and Carter Baizen had shown up, back when he still relevant and before he had forsaken his trust fund to travel the world in a baja hoodie. Chuck and Carter had both been bored with the party early on in the night before Carter pulled out a bag with a couple of pills.

"The wild and crazy thing gets kind of boring after a while, doesn't it, Bass?" Carter asked, pulling the pills out of his pocket.

Chuck nodded, taking a sip of his scotch. "That it fucking does, Baizen."

"Want to try something a little bit more fun then, Bass?"

"Depends on what's in the bag," Chuck answered.

"Swiped this from my grandfather. Think he has cancer. Ever taken morphine?" Carter asked

"Nope. You?"

Carter had just smirked back at Chuck, affirming that he had. "What do you say we give it a go?"

Chuck shrugged, holding out his hand for the pills. "I'll try anything once," he responded, swishing the pills down with a swallow of scotch.

Chuck barely remembered the rest of the night. Once the pills had hit, he and Carter had stopped speaking. Chuck remembered feeling absolutely nothing, thinking absolutely nothing. At one point he hadn't even known his own name. Carter's grandfather had died not long after, and Chuck had realized how strong morphine really was – the only people who got it were people who were dying or in severe pain. "Morphine," he spoke faintly.

"It's time for my rounds anyway, I'll start with her," the nurse responded.

Chuck nodded and followed her blindly to Blair's room. He stood in the corner, observing the nurse take Blair's blood pressure, her temperature, and then administer something into the IV that Blair was hooked up to. Then he saw the nurse lift up Blair's hospital gown and remove a bandage on her ribcage. Chuck's heart fell when he saw what was clearly a surgical incision. "She had surgery, didn't she?" he asked, quietly.

The nurse relented a bit and nodded, without speaking. There was no point in lying, Chuck had seen what he had seen. "I gave her a little more morphine in her drip, and she's settled down now. She should be ok for the rest of the night."

"Thank you," Chuck answered softly. "What's your name?"

The nurse was caught off guard. People rarely asked for her name. "Cassidy, why?"

"Thank you, Cassidy. For taking care of her," Chuck answered.

"It's kind of in my job description."

"It was in mine, too," he responded faintly. And I failed.

Xoxo.

Serena had fallen asleep in the waiting room of the emergency room waiting for Chuck to come back. Looking at her phone she saw it was 6 AM and Chuck had clearly never come back for her. After checking the time, Serena realized she also had three missed texts from Louis.

Serena, have you seen Blair?

Blair never came home. Any idea where she is? Is she with Chuck?

SERENA

She had irrevocably messed up the first time Chuck had entrusted her with Blair's well-being and she wasn't about to do it again. She unlocked her phone and started typing. She's with me. Needs some time.

It was less than 30 seconds before she received a response from Louis. Needs some time?

Time away from you.

Why? He texted back instantly.

Fuck you, Louis, she replied before shutting off her phone and lying back on the waiting room sofa.

Xoxo.

He had messed up. He had gotten too angry and trashed the apartment. But goddamn it, she made him so angry. This was her fault, after all. She had never given up Chuck, that much he knew. He knew that she and Chuck had had sex the night they were supposed to come out as an official couple. And that absolutely enraged him in the core of his soul.

He had been raised as a prince, had learned impeccable manners. He knew all the right forks to use, all the pleasantries, all the right words to say. But the night he realized Blair had cheated on him, something inside of him had snapped, and he couldn't pretend to be a mild-mannered prince anymore. Not anymore.

Truthfully, anger had always bubbled just beneath Louis' surface, always trying to claw its way out. That day, he had finally let it boil over. He had hit her. And he really had been sorry. But his rage could no longer be contained, so he had continued hitting her. Giving into his anger, it felt so satisfying. She was completely under his control while his hands bruised her. All he wanted was to be in control of her. When he let the anger out, he finally felt free. He felt in control. He couldn't compete with her as far as words went; Blair would win any duel that involved words – she was much too clever for her own good. And so, he had chosen his weapon of choice. His hands.

Over time, the guilty feelings had all but dissipated. Every time he hit her felt less bad about it, and more secure in the fact that she deserved it. Especially last night. Blair had deserved everything she had gotten last night. He knew exactly where she was last. With Chuck Bass. And she had stayed there all night. The image of them together, fucking, had driven him insane. He needed to break something. Needed to break everything. She had broken them first, so now he just wanted to break her.

Last night he hadn't felt in control at all, he only saw red as he stood over her where she had fallen to the ground. He kicked and hit every part of her body until she stopped moving, until he had knocked her unconscious. He had gone to the guest room to sleep that night, wanting to be able to sleep away from Blair's inevitable crying. Settling into the guest bed, Louis laid his head against the pillow and smiled, remembering the undeniable crack he had heard as one of Blair's bones broke when he had kicked her.

That morning he looked into her room. He didn't really feel like apologizing, but he would if suited him. Blair didn't even roll over to look at him. Instead she just laid there. Whatever. Louis rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone to text someone else. Estee could be fun today.

Louis invited Estee to 169, a dive bar on the Lower East Side, where he was sure no one would recognize him. He realized the second Chuck Bass sat down next to him at the bar that he was wrong.

"Louis, what a surprise and a pleasure to see you here," Chuck said, holding his hand out to Louis.

"Charles, a surprise indeed," he replied, shaking Chuck's hand

"Was wondering if I could speak to you privately, Louis? I don't want to interrupt your date, but it really is imperative that we speak."

The girl looked at Louis, then to Chuck. "I should freshen up, anyways."

"Chuck, what are you doing here?' Louis asked, anxiously.

"I should ask you the same question, Louis," replied Chuck, motioning to the girl's empty seat.

"Just an acquaintance," Louis replied.

"Right, and I'm the King of England," said Chuck with an eye roll. "I don't care about your concubine, Louis, I'm here to attend to much more pressing matters anyway."

"What other matters?"

"Blair," Chuck responded roughly.

Louis smirked. "Ah, yes, Blair." Stupid whore.

"I know exactly what you've been doing to her, Louis. If you ever harm another hair on her head, I will destroy you. Do you understand?"

"You don't know what you're talking about." Louis smirked.

"Actually, Louis, I do. I know exactly how you hurt her. And I'm telling you, you hurt her ever again, and I will hurt you."

"Are you threatening me, Chuck? You know how powerful I am, don't you? I could hurt you more than you could ever hurt me," Louis scoffed.

"Not likely, Louis. And I don't care what happens to me, I care about what happens to her. So consider yourself warned, Louis." Louis met Chuck's eyes and saw him smirk.

"You realize who you're threatening, right? I'm Prince Louis Grimaldi of Monaco," stated Louis.

"Ah, yes," Chuck laughed. "But I'm Chuck Bass."

Despite Chuck's threats, Louis had spent the afternoon with Estee. It was upon returning to the penthouse that he started to panic. Blair was gone and her phone was on the bathroom floor. What the fuck.

It was then that Louis started texting Serena. She was Blair's best friend, of course she'd know where she was.

Hours later and Serena hadn't responded to any of the texts he had sent her, so Louis decided a bottle of wine was in order. Selecting a 2010 Leoville-Barton St. Julien, he opened the bottle and promptly poured himself a huge glass. After eventually polishing off the bottle, Louis passed out on the couch.

His eyes opened the next morning, squinting at the morning light. His head was pounding. What time is it? 7 AM. One text message from Serena.

Fuck you, Louis.

Xoxo.

Chuck wasn't sure if it was the sunlight pouring through the windows into his eyes or the horrible pain in his neck that woke him up the next morning. But as soon as he saw Blair breathing softly in the hospital bed, it didn't matter. She was breathing, she was alive. For now, she was alright. Fuck, Serena. Chuck realized he had completely forgotten about his stepsister as soon as he had laid eyes on Blair. Checking his Piaget he saw it was just past 6 AM and he quietly left Blair's room to search for Serena. Spotting Cassidy still at the nurses' station, he spoke, "Cassidy, if she wakes up, will you tell her I'm coming back? That I haven't left?"

Cassidy simply nodded. "Of course."

Chuck made his way back to the waiting room, and he found his stepsister sprawled across a couch. Surprisingly enough, she was awake. "Serena," he greeted.

Serena sat up quickly. "Chuck! How is she!?"

"She was pretty out of it last night. She was in a lot of pain last night. She had surgery, but I'm not sure why yet. She's…ok. And she's sleeping, right now," Chuck informed her.

"Surgery?" Serena asked, stunned.

"Yes. Saw the incision myself." Chuck grimaced.

"Louis texted me, Chuck," Serena said gently. "He was looking for her.

Chuck's brow furrowed at Serena's statement. "And? What did you say, Serena? I swear to god."

"I told him she was with me. That she needed time. He asked me why she needed time and I told him to go fuck himself," Serena replied with a smirk.

Chuck couldn't help a small smile cross his face. "Good job, sis." Chuck offered his arm to Serena. "Come on, let's go see our girl."

"Chuck, I don't know, she was really mad at me…"

"Yes, and she was furious with me. Come on. She'll be happy to see you when she wakes up. You can have my chair."

Serena nodded, taking Chuck's arm and following him to Blair's room.

Blair was still sleeping peacefully when they entered her room, and Serena took the chair Chuck had promised her and he sat down on the floor next to her chair. "Now that we know she had surgery…do you still think we should hold off on calling Eleanor?" Serena asked.

"I've been thinking about that a lot, Serena. I still don't think we should call Eleanor, at least not yet. But you know who I think we should have called from the very beginning?" Chuck replied.

"Who?"

"I think we should call Harold, Serena." Chuck saw the puzzled expression on Serena's face. "Think about it, Serena. She loves her father more than anyone in the world, she'll listen to him more than she'll listen to anyone. More than me, and you know it."

Serena knew Chuck was right. "Make the call, Chuck."

"Stay with her. I'll be right outside," Chuck replied.

Stepping outside, Chuck searched his contacts for Harold Waldorf. Before hitting the call button, he took a deep breath. After this call, Blair could potentially hate him forever. You are doing this for her. No, this was the right thing to do. Blair needed help. She needed it desperately.

Harold answered on the fourth ring, clearly still half asleep. "Charles?"

Oh fuck. Yeah, there's a time difference. "Hello, Mr. Waldorf. I'm so sorry to bother you…at whatever hour it is in France right now. But you need to come home, now."

Harold immediately perked up. "Is it Blair? Is she alright?"

"Yes, it's Blair. You need to come home, now," Chuck stressed. "She's alright, right now."

"Right now, Charles?"

"Call me Chuck. And yes, right now. She needs you, right now."

"What aren't you telling me, Chuck?" asked Harold.

Chuck sighed into the phone. "She's in the hospital right now. I don't know why. I don't know what happened. She called me completely out of it and I called 911. Get on the next flight to the New York. It's bad."

There was a long pause before Harold answered. "I'll be there in a few hours, Chuck."

"Thank you, Mr. Waldorf."

"Chuck, call me Harold."

Hey, you there. I see you lurking. Let me know if you love or hate.