Chapter 9 – Cruel
Another chapter pretty quickly. Besides work and the occasional trip to the grocery store, I am in quarantine. I have cleaned every inch of my apartment and I am BORED. Thanks to everyone who reviews, they seriously make me smile….so, uh, keep doing that, please? Or I'll give Chuck the coronavirus.
Blair had no idea where she was going; she just knew she had to get away. Her father's rejection was hard enough, but Chuck? That was even worse. She was angry and embarrassed and she needed to escape. Hailing a cab with absolutely no destination in mind, she told the cabbie to take her to the one place she knew offered escape – Victrola.
She entered the club without issue – the bouncers were probably under permanent strict orders to let her inside without incident – and made her way to the bar. Despite how packed the club was, the bar was relatively quiet, for which she was thankful. Taking a seat at the elegant oak bar, she ordered a martini from the bartender. When her drink arrived, she took a deep sip, savoring the alcoholic burn of the gin and the acidic taste of lemon. She could still taste Chuck on her lips – scotch and woodiness, and warmth. She could smell him all around her, despite the crowdedness of the club. She downed her drink in an instant – she had to get away from him, get away from everything.
Blair signaled the bartender for another drink before she heard the voice behind her, "Put it on my tab."
Turning in her seat slightly, her eyes confirmed what her ears already knew. Carter Baizen. "Carter, what are you doing here?"
Carter merely smirked before taking a seat next to her. "Buying you a drink."
Blair huffed at him. "That won't work a second time, Carter," she responded taking a deep sip of her fresh martini as it arrived. "Also, how do you have a tab here?"
"I was here first. So maybe I should be asking what you're doing here?" he responded easily. "I didn't know princesses were allowed to drink alcohol, especially in places of pure debauchery," he replied, his hand motioning around the club. He pointedly ignored her second question.
"I'm not a princess, Carter."
"Yet."
"Ever," she responded, adamantly. The alcohol was making her too talkative, she thought.
"Trouble in paradise?" Carter asked.
"Why do you care?" she replied hotly, taking another sip of her drink.
"Honestly? I don't. I'm just trying to make conversation."
Blair felt the tears well behind her eyes and she chugged the rest of her martini. "Thanks for being a friend, Carter," she seethed. "You can go now."
"Blair? Are you alright?" Carter asked, softening.
"You just said you didn't care."
"Yes, and I'm an asshole."
"I need another martini," she said simply in response.
Carter motioned to the bartender. "I'll tell you why I'm really here if you tell me what's wrong."
Blair chugged her martini as soon as it slid in front of her. "You first. Mine's pretty bad," she responded.
Carter looked at her for a brief moment, studying her, before continuing, "I'm looking for Serena."
Blair's head snapped up. "Well, she's not here. Also, why?"
Carter sighed. "I figured that out a while ago. Because I miss her."
Blair chuckled. "Carter Baizen, what a surprise."
"You can think whatever you want about me, but I do actually have a heart," Carter returned. "So, you know why I'm here. Your turn."
"Louis and I broke up," she said simply, waving the bartender for another drink. She was definitely tipsy at this point, but wanted more.
"I'm sorry, Blair. I di-"
"Don't," she interrupted. "I dumped him." She turned in her barstool to fully face him, suddenly emboldened. "You know, the Vicodin is the best with the whole broken rib thing, but martinis help, too."
"Broken rib?" Carter asked suspiciously.
"I guess it happens sometimes when you kick someone," she replied easily.
"Blair…"
"What? 'I'm sorry?' I'm sick of hearing it. I'm sick of the pity on everyone's faces. Yeah, Louis hit me. Big deal. I could've left, but I didn't because I'm stupid. I'd probably still be engaged if Chuck hadn't found out," she let out.
Carter absorbed her words, before responding, "Chuck?"
"Yes, Chuck."
"Does he know you're here?"
"No, no one does. I needed to get away. So, I ran here."
"Alone? To get drunk, with a broken rib?" he asked incredulously.
She knew she was drunk when she responded. "My dad left me without a thought, and Chuck doesn't want me, so yeah. I guess that's exactly what happened." Carter pulled out his phone and looked through his contacts before finding the one he was looking for and hitting 'call.' "What are you doing?" Blair demanded.
"Helping you," he responded simply, as he held his phone up to his ear. "Bass? Looking for a certain Waldorf?" Carter paused to listen to Chuck's reply on the other end. "I've got her here at the bar at Victrola, and yes, she's fine, if not quite intoxicated." Another pause. "I'll keep an eye on her, don't worry," he said, before hanging up his phone.
"You had no right to do that," she seethed.
Carter shrugged. "Maybe not - but you're alone in a bar, drunk and with a broken rib. You may think I'm a monster, but that screams 'bad news' to me, to be honest."
Blair relented and lowered her head into her hands. "Louis is still in the city, too," she said quietly. "I'm sure Chuck has an eye on him, but I shouldn't have gone out alone…Fuck, I shouldn't be afraid to go out alone," she cried.
"No, you shouldn't be. I'm sorry, Blair. What he did…is horrible," he responded, putting an arm around her delicately, completely unsure of what to say to her in that moment.
A few tears streamed down her alcohol-flushed cheeks. "Is Chuck coming?"
"What do you think?"
"Thank you, Carter. You're really not so horrible. I'll talk to Serena," she offered weakly
"I would appreciate that," he replied as she started to sob into him.
Chuck walked in a few minutes later, and Carter saw Chuck's jaw tighten when he saw Carter and Blair's embrace. Carter lifted a hand in a way of apology. Chuck strode towards them, his fists clenched, before he noticed that Carter wasn't holding Blair intimately, he was holding her because she was crying. "Blair?" he asked quietly, when he reached the pair.
Blair didn't answer, she simply continued to cry into Carter. Carter finally answered for her, "She had a few martinis, pretty quickly. She's a little drunk."
Chuck glared at Carter. "What did you do, Baizen?"
"I didn't do anything, Bass. I bought her a few drinks and she told me about Louis…If I had known, I wouldn't have—"
"She told you about Louis?" Chuck interrupted.
Carter simply nodded. "I called you right after."
Chuck nodded back dumbly. "Blair? Waldorf?"
Blair finally acknowledged Chuck and let out a strangled sob, "Chuck?"
Chuck leaned forward to take her into his arms, kissing the top of her hair. "I'm here, baby. Come on, my car's right outside, let's get you home."
Blair simply nodded as Chuck led her, stumbling slightly, out to his car. He helped her into the car before speaking, "I'll be right back, I need to talk to Carter."
Her eyes were glazing over as she spoke, "He didn't do anything, Chuck. I think he's still in love with Serena."
Chuck nodded. "I know, just stay here, ok? I'll be back."
Chuck walked back into Victrola and took the seat at the bar Blair had recently vacated. "So, you know," he said to Carter without looking at the other man.
"I know."
"If you tell anyone, I will destroy you," Chuck threatened.
"Bass, I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm honestly horrified. And disgusted," Carter responded.
Chuck finally let himself look at Carter. "Thanks for the call," he sighed.
"You're lucky that I found her and not someone else," Carter warned. "A broken rib? Jesus Christ, Bass."
Chuck nodded. "I know."
"Do you have eyes on him?" Carter asked, narrowing his eyes.
"You know I do," Chuck answered. "I have my PI on him 24/7. If he comes anywhere near Blair, I'll know about it."
"Good."
"I have to go, Baizen. Thanks for not being scum, for once," Chuck said, rising from his seat at the bar.
"I'll let you know if I come across Louis," Carter spoke suddenly, quietly.
Chuck's eyes snapped to meet Carter's; the older man never used his first name. "Thanks," Chuck replied, defeated, before he did something he thought he'd never do – he patted Carter Carter's shoulder in a sign of familiarity, of friendship, before he made his way to his waiting limo.
Reaching his limo, he opened the door to find a passed-out Blair Waldorf laid across the leather seats. Chuck sighed as he slid into his limo, "Arthur, to the Empire," he ordered before he closed the partition and slid closer to her, until he was laying behind her, her body pressed against his. He held her as tightly as he could without hurting her. "I love you," he whispered into her hair.
She was drunk and passed out, but he could swear he heard her murmur "love you," back.
Xoxo.
It had been a long time since Carter Baizen had been alone with Blair Waldorf. He remembered the determined, stubborn, sexy, bitchy Blair Waldorf from years ago and his mind simply couldn't associate that Blair Waldorf with the girl who had been crying in his arms minutes ago.
Carter had been honest, he was here for Serena. He missed her. He loved her.
But despite what everyone thought about him, he actually did care about Blair Waldorf, and the fact that someone had hurt her made him sick to his stomach. If someone had hurt Serena like Louis had hurt Blair… The thought made his blood boil and his heart pound soundly in his skull. He had to call her; finding her in his contacts he pressed his thumb down to call.
"Carter?" she answered after a few rings.
"Hello, Serena," he replied, pushing down the fluttering feeling in his stomach.
"What do you want, Carter," she asked impatiently.
"I was just with your best friend, she seemed…off."
"You were with Blair?" Serena nearly shouted, worry filling her voice.
"I found her drunk at Victrola. She's with Bass now, so she's fine. We talked about you, though."
"Me?"
"You," Carter answered sincerely.
"Why?" Serena asked, suspicious filling her voice.
"I found her at the bar at Victrola…Where I was looking for you," he responded.
"And why were you looking for me, Carter," she asked, exasperated.
"I miss you, Serena."
There was a long pause, and Carter was almost certain Serena had hung up her phone before she heard her respond weakly, "Really?"
"Yes, Serena. I haven't stopped thinking about you since Santorini."
"Which time?" she asked.
"The first time. Was that not evident in the fact that I was tracking your father the whole time?"
"Carter…"
"Look, I'm in town. I'm somewhat back in my parent's good graces. I'm not leaving anytime soon. So…I'm here if you want to talk, Serena."
Another long pause. "Blair?" she asked weakly.
"Not good. She chugged a bunch of martinis before crying on my shoulder. I wasn't aware she could cry," Carter replied solemnly.
"She's got a lot going on right now," Serena replied.
Carter heard the lack of conviction in her voice. "I know about Louis, Serena. She told me."
"What?!"
Carter shrugged even though Serena couldn't see it. "Many martinis, remember?
Serena exhaled deeply. "Do you want to come over, Carter?"
Carter smiled inadvertently. "I'd love to."
Xoxo.
Chuck had carried Blair back to his penthouse and laid her down on his bed. He had laid down beside her, watching her breathe as he propped his head up with his hand, the moonlight highlighting the narrow planes of her face. Hours later, he was still watching as she slept. What are you doing, Blair?
Blair stirred in sleep, trembling softly. "No," she whispered, her voice frightened. "No, no, no…"
Chuck felt nausea roil in his gut at the cries she emitted in her sleep "Blair, wake up. Blair!" He reached out to touch her and he could feel her sweating beneath his fingertips. He moved closer to her and gently threw an arm around her waist. He kissed the nape of her neck gently and whispered into it, "I'm here, Blair, wake up."
Blair shuddered next to him with a gasp and a few shaky breaths. "Chuck?" she asked into the darkness, her voice quiet and clearly frightened.
"I'm right here," he replied. "Nightmare?"
"Yes," she responded quietly. "I feel sick, Chuck."
Chuck tensed, knowing exactly what that meant. Exactly what happened the last time she was sick. "Can you hang on for a little bit? I've got something that'll make you feel better." Chuck felt her nod weakly and rose from the bed to go his kitchen to make her his secret hangover cure.
Throwing the tried-and-true ingredients together and blending them up, the result was a light green smoothie-like drink. He was walked back into the bedroom and handed it to her. "Drink," he ordered, sitting back down on the bed next to her.
Blair downed the drink, wincing the whole way. "That's disgusting," she muttered.
"But effective," Chuck returned as he studied her.
"What?" she asked irritably after a moment, having noticed that Chuck was watching her intently. The nausea had faded slightly, but wasn't completely gone yet.
"Last night –"
"What about it?" she shot back quickly.
Chuck closed his eyes and leaned back into the headboard, furrowing his brow, trying to find the words to say. "What happened last night?" he asked lamely. He knew it was a pathetic question; he knew exactly what had happened last night, but what he really wanted to know was the why. He wasn't sure why he couldn't ask the why.
"You rejected me. I was embarrassed. I left," she answered after a moment. "I just needed an escape," she added, more quietly now.
Chuck turned on his side to face her, draping his arm across her stomach. Sighing deeply, he replied, "I didn't reject you, Blair."
"I threw myself at you and you said 'stop.' That's rejection if I've ever seen it," Blair replied cruelly, removing Chuck's arm. "And I dated Nate. I'm pretty familiar with it."
Chuck simply moved closer and returned his arm to its position on her stomach. "Stop it. Just listen to me," he demanded.
"You're bossy today, Bass," she retorted.
"Will you listen to me or not?" Chuck replied, feeling himself growing more irritated with her by the second.
Blair stilled next to him, noticing the irritation evident in his voice. "Yes," she replied quietly. The last thing she wanted to do was make him angry. Bad things happen when they get angry, she thought to herself. No, but not Chuck, she mentally corrected herself
"You have a broken rib and a fractured rib, Blair. You just had surgery, albeit minor, but still surgery nonetheless. I'm not going to have sex with you when you're hurt, I can't," he started quietly. "I won't. If you want to tell yourself that I'm rejecting you, fine. But I'm not. Furthermore, you told me you needed time. I'm trying to give that to you, even though…" he trailed off.
"Even though, what?" she asked, after Chuck didn't continue after a few moments.
"Being this close to you without being able to touch you is absolute torture," he finished after another moment of silence. "All I want…is to be with you, to touch you. But we can't do that right now. I know you know that."
A small smile lit up her face. "So…you do want me?" she asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.
"More than anything," he answered seriously.
"Chuck Bass, saying 'no' to sex, never thought I'd see the day," Blair said with a slight smirk.
Chuck smirked back at her. "Only for you, baby."
Blair wrinkled her nose at him, and put her hand on his chest, pushing him away gently. "I hate when you smarm."
"And I hate when you lie," he responded, inching ever closer to her. His gaze met hers and the words stopped, the game stopped. All Chuck could see were her beautiful, tortured brown eyes staring back into his, and for the first time in a long time, he saw a trace of happiness in them. It was faint, but it was there. Those eyes softened him, as they always did. "I just want you to be happy, Waldorf."
"I am happy," she responded weakly.
No, you aren't, he thought to himself, though he simply nodded at her. That was a conversation for another day. "When you're healed, and you're ready. Tell me, and I'm all yours," he replied instead.
"All yours?" she asked with a tilt of her head, a curl falling over her face.
"Yes, Blair," he answered back. "All yours."
A full smile, one that finally reached her eyes, crossed her face. "Okay," she said softly. "I feel better now. Your disgusting drink really is effective."
"I told you," he smiled back at her.
Silence settled around them, and they simply stared at each other, their eyes speaking words that couldn't be said in the moment, boring into each other, each one of them searching for answers in the other. There were no answers to be found that night, they knew. They were just two broken people, in a perfect world that had cracked and then shattered around them. They laid like that for a long time, her chocolate eyes staring right into his whiskey eyes. The sun was rising around them as Chuck pulled her closer to him. The night felt safe to him - in the night, it was just the two of them. Blair and Chuck. Chuck and Blair. During the daylight there were questions, obligations, other people. It was hard for him, and he knew it was even harder for her. "Chuck?" she asked, cutting through their comfortable silence.
"Yes?" he mumbled into her hair.
"What are you sorry for?"
"What?" he responded, caught off guard.
"The other night…you came to bed late and very drunk. You thought I was asleep, but I wasn't. You said you were sorry. Why?"
Chuck sighed, lacing his fingers with hers. "I told you to be with Louis."
"We've talked about this. That's not your fault. Stop," she responded, squeezing his hand.
He gave her small smile. "I know. That's not the only thing I'm sorry for."
"What, then?" she asked, cocking her head in confusion.
"I never fought for you. Ever. Not really. And I should have. I've always felt like the last option when it came to you. I always felt like the consolation prize. So, I never fought for you. If I would've fought for you…"
"Stop it, Chuck," Blair whispered.
"I should've fought for you, Blair. Just a little bit harder. You've treated me like shit…But I should've fought a little bit harder."
Blair flinched at his words. "If you feel like that, why would you fight for me at all?" she whispered.
Chuck kissed her lips gently. "Because I love you, and you're worth it."
"I'm really not."
"When did you become me, Waldorf?" Chuck asked her coolly, hoping she wouldn't notice the panic building in him. Her eyes flashed and he understood immediately. "Whatever he said to you, don't believe it."
"That's hard when it's been drilled into your brain. It's like…every breath I take, I think to myself 'remember, you are garbage.' It's hard to get away from that."
Chuck tensed and tightened his hold on her instinctively until Blair winced under his touched. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Did he really say that to you?"
"One of the many things he said. You know, at a certain point, I started to believe him. I believed him."
"Well he's wrong. He's the one who's garbage," Chuck growled. "You know what I think?"
"What?" Blair whispered back."
"You're amazing."
"Chuck Bass, a romantic. Who knew?" she said quietly.
"You've always known," he replied, kissing her forehead. "Sleep now."
Blair nodded and closed her eyes. You're amazing. His words repeated over and over again until sleep finally found her.
Xoxo.
They were awoken the next morning by the incessant ringing of Blair's cell phone. Chuck groaned as she looked at the screen. She didn't recognize number, and panic shot through her. She hadn't even looked through the texts she had received, one of which, she recalled, was from an unfamiliar number. What if it's Louis? Her panic began to grow tenfold. "Chuck?"
"What?" he groaned.
"I don't know the number. Answer it for me?" she pleaded.
Chuck immediately rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and glared at Blair before answering her phone. "Blair Waldorf's phone," he grumbled, still half asleep.
"Charles?" Eleanor's voice shocked him completely awake.
"Mrs. Rose, so good to hear from you," he replied, stuttering.
"Why are you answering my daughter's phone? Where is she?"
Lie, lie, lie. "Dorota ordered hyacinths instead of hydrangeas. I'm sure Dorota is getting an earful right now."
Blair smirked at his excuse, knowing she had said the same thing to Serena recently. They were so much alike. They fit.
"So, you're with my daughter at 7am because of flowers?" Eleanor replied, suspicion coating every word.
Bad lie. Fuck. I hate mornings.
Chuck rose his free hand to signal his distress and Blair understood immediately. She grabbed the phone from him and put it on speaker. "Mother?"
"Blair, darling. What is going on?"
"A lot. You would know that if you were ever here."
"Blair? Is it your condition? Talk to Louis. I'm sure he'll take you back."
"Mother, I left him!"
"Why?" Eleanor asked incredulously. "He's a prince. I know I always pushed you towards Nathaniel, but this is a match I couldn't have even planned. This marriage would open so many doors for me, and you."
Blair held back her tears, but Chuck could see them pooling in her eyes. "He hurt me, Mother," she responded quietly.
Eleanor let out an exasperated sigh. "Just apologize. He'll forgive you."
Chuck watched Blair crumble before his eyes. "He hurt me, Mother," she said again, softly, urgently.
Eleanor sounded annoyed as she answered, "I'm sure. Just apologize and make it right."
"Apologize?" she asked weakly, her voice almost quaking.
Chuck saw the tears build in Blair's eyes, as she looked down at the phone in her. All she had ever wanted was Eleanor's approval and what Eleanor was asking her to do, would destroy her. He grabbed the phone from Blair without a second thought. "Eleanor, good to hear from you again."
"Charles?"
"Indeed."
"Whatever is going on, I need you to get my daughter back to Louis this instant," she replied coldly.
"I'm afraid that's not possible, Eleanor."
Chuck could hear Eleanor's frustration through the phone. "And why ever not?"
Chuck handed the phone back the Blair. "Tell her," he whispered.
"I can't," she whispered back.
"Charles? Blair?" Eleanor screeched through the phone.
"Louis hit me, Mother. He hurt me. I left him. Because he hurt me," she finally spoke, comforted by Chuck running his hand up and down her back, trying to sooth her.
"Blair, what did you do?" Eleanor asked after a long pause.
Blair's tears finally began to fall in earnest and she wrapped herself around Chuck, who took the phone back from her. "Don't call this number again, Eleanor. It was a mistake for you to even have it," he responded coldly. Chuck ended the call and placed Blair's phone on his night stand.
"Don't listen to her, ok?" he said, wrapping himself around Blair in return.
"It's my fault," she said quietly.
"No. No, it isn't."
Blair simply shook her head at his protestations. "It's my fault."
"What is your fault, Blair?" His voice was strangled.
"Everything," she whispered, moving away from him. "I'm certain that my mother will be on the first flight out to New York shortly and I should leave, to prepare for her arrival." Her voice was suddenly flat, robotic. She was devoid of any passion, just as she was when she had put on her mask, so she could be the perfect society darling she had always wanted to be.
Chuck shook his head. "Don't push me away, Blair. Not now," he felt himself pleading, and he reached for her hand, holding it like it was his lifeline, trying to pull the Blair he knew back to him, his Blair. The Blair who stood in front of him was someone else entirely – cold, calculating, forming poisonous bullets on her tongue, aimed precisely to cause maximum damage.
Blair smiled at him cruelly. "There's nothing to push away. I'm going home. Thanks for…being a shoulder to cry on. But I don't need you anymore." Bullet launched.
Chuck flinched at her words. "Blair—"
"Don't!"
"So, after everything that's happened, that's just it?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," she responded.
"I said I was going to fight for you," he responded. His voice sounded empty, lost. Hurt.
"Don't. Just don't."
"Blair –"
"I'm going home, Chuck, ok?" She interrupted coldly.
Chuck dropped her hand, and nodded limply, turning his face away from her so he no longer had to look her in the eye. "Ok," he murmured.
Chuck continued to sit dejectedly on the bed as Blair quickly gathered her belongings and left him behind without a second glance.
What he didn't see were the tears freely streaming down Blair's face as she walked away from him. She wouldn't let him see.
Chuck was still for a long time after she left, the conversation playing over and over in his mind. The past few days, he had a feeling that he was watching Blair Waldorf slowly self-destruct, between taking pills to get high, her father leaving, getting drunk at Victrola with Carter Baizen – he was certain that something was coming. In the end, he mused, he was simply collateral damage to her nearing explosion. Chuck closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. Blair Waldorf was completely self-destructing, turning in on herself like a dying red star, but it was Chuck Bass who had been destroyed by its fiery path.