Chapter 2 of In Love & War
The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.

Author: Isabelle

Summary: Post 1.13. Chuck Bass left New York after he lost Blair and Nate in one day. Years later, a deep economic crisis has left the world broke, and the only family in the UES with money left is the Bass family and its sole heir: Chuck Bass. Eleanor convinces Blair to marry Chuck for his money, but all the feelings Blair left buried a long time ago start to surface when she realizes he's not the man she thought he was. CB. NV.

Disclaimer: I won nothing, not Gossip Girl, not any quotes/lyrics used.

Rating: PG-15

A/N – A special thanks to the ever lovely Tatiana for her BETA.

-----------

"For the life of me I cannot remember
What made us think that we were wise and we'd never compromise."
The Freshman – The Verve Pipe

She stared at her mother, disbelief running through her. She felt so very sick that she could pass out at that very moment.

"Oh, God…" She whispered. "You've completely lost it…"

"No, Blair – listen –"

"No!" Blair shouted, wrenching herself from her mother's crazed hands. "No."

Eleanor's eyes were wide and they frightened Blair so much that she had to back away.

"I'm not prostituting myself for money," she hissed, walking back and forth on the kitchen.

She had no money, no dignity, no home, no mother – what the hell did she have left? Nothing. She had jack shit. Jack fucking shit. She needed to calm down before she had a true Waldorf breakdown. And they had run out of Prozac. She hadn't broken down like this since she had found out what she had done to herself, and that had been years ago…

"Blair, baby…"

"No!" Now she was yelling. She sat before her computer, ignoring her mother's shadow as she opened Word and started typing.

"Listen to reason."

"You make no sense."

"Listen to me."

"I'd rather die."

"We will die!"

"No we won't! I will fix this!"

"Fifty dollars won't fix anything, Blair!"

"I will fix it!" And she was outright yelling, in her face, breathing hard.

"If you won't go to him…. I will," Eleanor deadpanned.

Blair's blood froze. W-what?

Her disgust was evident in her face, because her mother clearly saw it through her insanity.

"Not on my behalf!" Eleanor clarified. "On your behalf!"

"No!" Blair burst. "You do not speak to Chuck Bass, you do not go near him – do you understand?"

"Maybe it's time that you remember I am the parent here!" Eleanor yelled back.

"You could've fooled me when you had grey goose bottles under our pillows!" She snapped back.

Her mother stared at her for a beat, and then stumbled out. Blair sat back down and looked at her screen, still bewildered by her mother's words.

Marry Chuck Bass.

She wasn't a fool, much less a desperate fool. She would never – she held herself above that. She stared at her screen: she'd never been much of a writer. She most certainly wasn't a Humphrey. But she was a good bullshitter. Always had been. She could weave the most fantastic tale by bringing out some secrets that had otherwise been left hidden.

---------

"Her mother's clothing line went down during the crash-"

"I knew this, the entire fashion industry did," Chuck snapped, pacing back and forth in front of Jacob as Jacob read him his findings. His lunch lay on the side, forgotten. Jacob nodded.

"…Her father died a month later, heart failure. She flew to France for the funeral and the reading of the will. She was left sole heir, but ninety percent of her father's estate had been invested in Kellar Industries-"

"Shit," Chuck cursed, closing his eyes and rubbing his temple.

"The remainder of the fortune was used to pay the bills and taxes left on the estate."

Jacob continued, his words making Chuck sicker and sicker.

"They lost the house in Denver, the brownstone in London, and the properties in Hong Kong and Rio."

Chuck groaned. "Anything left?" He demanded.

Jacob scanned the sheet. "The New York place… It's in foreclosure."

Chuck stopped, staring out the window at the crumbling city.

"She never married?" He asked quietly. Jacob studied his profile and took a breath.

"She was… Engaged to a Ulysses Waterstone IV," he said quietly.

Chuck turned, surprised, and feeling acute heartburn starting. He was too damn young for heartburn.

"… He left her when their fortune went under," he continued.

Chuck stared at him, disbelieving. "He left her?"

"Yes, sir." Jacob nodded. "A month after her father died. They were in the communications business… They also lost their fortune, and Ulysses killed himself a year later."

"Fuck…" Chuck sighed. "Who does she live with?"

Jacob scanned the papers in his hand. "Well… She resides in the New York apartment, for now, with her mother and someone named Dorota."

Chuck stared out at the city.

"She's held odd jobs here and there, and according to my contact, just yesterday she went to an interview with the Post… Which is how I presume she ended here." Jacob finished.

"How much for?" He asked.

"Fifty dollars. According to a reporter who overheard them, she was offered fifty dollars to get an exclusive with Chuck Bass."

He smiled slightly. He'd given her presents worth ten thousand times more than that.

How the mighty had fallen. His heart ached for her, the proud Blair Waldorf, doing the unimaginable. He wondered how she was now… Was she cold and arrogant still? Subdued and sweet? Had life completely broken her?

"Any children?" He asked quietly.

"No, sir… I don't think she can."

Chuck stopped and turned to him, his gaze taking over Jacob's body.

Jacob looked down. "She… uh… Apparently she had some self-induced medical problems, and this led to complications and eventually to infertility."

Chuck blinked at him, feeling they were talking about someone else.

"W-what?"

"Apparently, she suffered from bulimia nervosa for some years that led to severe malnutrition and eventual infertility," Jacob tried to place the predicament as diplomatically as he could. Especially with the look taking over the man's features.

Chuck was quiet, staring ahead.

"Sir?"

"That will be all, Jacob," Chuck said.

"But, sir –"

"That will be all."

Jacob shook and nodded, quickly gathering his papers.

"Leave them," Chuck commanded.

Jacob opened his mouth, then thought better of it. He quickly turned and closed the door, leaving Chuck alone.

Chuck counted 2 minutes before Jacob was gone, then he turned to look at the papers on the desk. He quickly turned away. He cracked all ten of his fingers as he mulled over this, over and over.

Kryptonite.

She was barren.

He cursed.

He'd always envisioned Blair Waldorf finally finding her Prince, having loads of fair-headed children with Cardboard-Man as she grew gracefully into old age while ruling the trophy wives of the Upper East Side. He'd imagined he would see her in the future, throw in a few crude comments on how she had lost it to him, and possibly suggest a rump in a broom closet as her frigid husband stood drinking Vodka Martinis and probably fucking his male assistant on Friday nights. He would be her dirty little secret then as he had been before.

Here she was, years later; penniless, husband-less, homeless, childless, and willing to interview him for fifty fucking dollars.

He buried his hands in his hair. He should've never come to New York. He should've stayed away. She should've only entered his thoughts when he fucked petite brunettes with pink nipples. Not now. Not the way she had taken over his thoughts today.

She'd ruined him once before; she could not ruin him now.

Well… There really wasn't anything she could do to him. He had no best friend; she had no manner of ruining his reputation… She could do nothing to him now.

Not one thing.

He sighed and stood slowly to grab the papers. And there she was, a lovely picture of her, a few years older then when he had held her, graceful as ever with beautiful eyes and rosy cheeks. The picture was dated 2010… Before the crash.

He tapped the picture with his fingers and thought over and over as to what exactly he was considering… No. No, no.

No.

He shook his head.

"Jacob!" He cried, marching to the door and wrenching it open. "Get the car; I'm headed to the Post."

Jacob scurried from around the hall and quickly nodded.

----------

She stared at the article before her with a smile on her face. Perfect.

Just perfect.

The world would get a view of Chuck Bass that it had never seen. Once it was published, she was fairly certain that he would seek her out. To yell at her, most likely – but there really was nothing he could do to her; nothing really that he could take away.

And she didn't feel guilty about it. A part of her… A part of her resented what he had done. Run away. Just left. Left Nate, left his father, humiliated Lily, left her… He'd done a thousand things wrongs, and that was the exact problem with Chuck Bass.

He could be charming and sweet when he wanted to. On his terms. But the moment things escalated out of his control, he became this beast that she just didn't want to deal with. She wondered if life had changed him the way life had changed her.

Fairytales had been over for her a long time ago… As they were slowly losing everything she had found out about her… condition, and she hadn't shed a tear. She had yet to shed a tear about it.

She had been too busy, too preoccupied with their life falling apart around them.

No time for it, no time to think about it.

Then the Ulysses mess… Yeah. Life had definitely changed her.

"Dorota!" She called out to the woman. Dorota carefully re-entered the room, eyeing her apprehensively.

"Miss Blair… You won't do what your mama says…" Dorota questioned her.

Blair stared at her. "Of course not, Dorota."

"Miss Eleanor not well, Miss Blair," She said slowly. Blair nodded, not being able to think about that right now. She had to turn in this article and collect her money.

"Find me my old printer; see if I can print this out."

Dorota looked at her computer and nodded. "I think I know where."

----------

Dorota had found, amongst her old school materials, a small folio to place her newly printed article in. She smiled triumphantly as she waltzed into the Post.

Her outfit was still as perfect as she could muster, the same one she had used to see Chuck this morning. Now it was slightly creased, but still as perfect as an outfit of hers would ever get now days.

She walked right into Mr. Stockton's office and found him typing in a dusty computer, his office filled with packages covered in hundreds of foreign stamps.

She cleared her throat and pasted a smile on her face.

He looked startled to see her, fumbled with his glasses.

"Y-yes?" He asked, "Can I help you?"

She stepped forward. "Mr. Stockton, it's me – Blair Waldorf. We agreed yesterday on the article of Chuck Bass?"

He tilted his head as he studied her, portfolio at hand, dressed as lovely as he had seen anyone in years.

"Yes, I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He inquired, still confused.

She frowned slightly. "I wrote the exclusive…" She held out the folio. "The Chuck Bass exclusive."

Stockton stopped what he was doing and studied her, her bright expression, the sheen of accomplishment, and then finally nodded, taking the folio from her.

"Have a seat," he offered, and she removed from his chair a stack of old files.

He opened the folio and she studied him as he read through her pages of work. She shifted nervously as he read it, glancing at her every once in a while.

"How… How do you know all this?" He asked, studying her.

She flushed. "You said yesterday that one's name didn't matter anymore… But there was a time when it did. We grew up together… Childhood friends… Until high school."

He clicked his tongue. "This article… This view… It's very intimate."

She took a sharp breath. "Is it what you were looking for?"

He went back to reading it, not saying a word. Finally he set it down and stared at her, removing his glasses.

"Well?" She inquired nervously.

He let out a laugh. "I don't think an article of this sort has been published in ages." He glanced at the paper on his desk. "Most especially not about Chuck Bass."

"So it's good?" She asked, her heart giving her hope.

"It's good," he smiled.

"So, we agreed," she smiled brightly. "Fifty dollars."

'Fifty?" He repeated, momentarily confused.

"Fifty dollars. You said fifty yesterday." Her mood deflated quickly.

She watched as he rubbed his temples and a look of pure guilt took over his features.

"Miss Waldorf… I never thought you'd actually be able to find this information on Chuck Bass… Yhe man's been a tight lid for years…" He attempted to explain.

Oh, no.

"… Nothing on his personal life has been uncovered…" He continued.

"You don't have them," she explained for him, and she truly felt like this time she wouldn't be able to hold back her tears because life was just too fucked up now. Too fucked up.

"I do apologize, if I had them I would gladly give them –"

"But you said –"

"I never thought you –"

She let out a small cry and quickly buried her face in her hands.

He stopped, staring at her hunched over figure. Her tiny figure.

"Miss Waldorf –"

"Shut up!" She snapped, standing up. "You want the article? Keep it. It's the least I can do." She turned and stiffly walked away.

He stood quickly and ran after her.

"I can speak to my supervisor, see if we can possibly –"

"Stop talking to me!" She demanded, walking faster.

"What other information do you have on him –"

She turned at the entrance and glared at him. "I have nothing. Nothing," she spat. "And if you don't know the definition of nothing? Then look at me."

He stood rigid as she bounced down the stairs and out into the streets. He felt like total and utter shit. Stringing a girl along, in this day and age, where money was everything and people were willing to do anything for it. He should know.

He sighed and walked back to his office, shaking his head as he went along. But when he entered his office, he stopped because there was a man there. A man in a suit, his back turned to him as he studied his newspaper clippings on the walls and the books on his shelf.

"Excuse me! Who are you?" Stockton demanded.

The suit slowly turned, and Stockton gasped when he saw him.

"Oh I think you know who I am," Chuck Bass replied.

Stockton stared at the man, unblinking. Chuck Bass in his office… Oh, shit. He felt nervous shivers running down his spine, and his hands watered. The door behind him closed, and he jumped, turning to find an older man with hay-colored hair and glasses smiling at him slightly.

Stockton quickly looked at his desk and instantly noticed the portfolio was gone.

"The article!" He cried.

"My assistant, diligent as always, has made sure it's been destroyed," Chuck replied, slowly and casually sitting on his chair and leaning back, studying him.

"She must have you pretty scared," Stockton countered. "Her article was quite intriguing."

Chuck Bass didn't flinch, didn't move, and simply stared him down. The man must have a poker face to make a killing.

"I'm sure it was," he replied smoothly. "It was a very bad thing you did, Xavier Stockton. You have what? Four children? A sick wife?"

Stockton blanched.

"Is that correct, Jacob?" Chuck asked.

"And a dog." Jacob nodded, Chuck smirked.

"It'll be a shame to lose your job," Chuck looked at his desk disdainfully.

"Shame," Jacob replied, nodding.

"Are you blackmailing me?" Stockton spat.

Chuck Bass slowly stood and walked, hands in pockets to him. "Be careful with your words, Xavier. The world won't always be the way it is… But until then, the world is mine."

Stockton opened his mouth and quickly closed it.

"You will print no article on me, my staff, or Miss Waldorf," Chuck said calmly. "Am I making myself clear?"

The man's voice was low and dangerous, and Stockton slowly nodded.

"We did take your folio." He put his hand inside his jacket and pulled out a manila envelope, handing it over to Stockton. "But I'm replacing it with something that has a bit more value."

Stockton slowly took the envelope and opened it. It was full of fifty dollar bills. He gaped and looked back at Chuck Bass, whose face was rigid and impassive.

"Now you have plenty of 50s. Keep your promises to ladies; it's tacky when you don't." Chuck smirked slightly. "Do we have a deal?"

Stockton looked down at the money and then back at Chuck Bass. 'Hiring' Blair Waldorf had been the best career move he'd ever made.

He nodded and watched as Chuck Bass walked out of his office, taking his expensive suit and freaky assistant with him.

--------

"What would you like me to do about Miss Waldorf?" Jacob asked once they had slid back into their waiting limo.

Chuck stared out the window, his hands still damp at having heard Blair's voice after so many years. He had stood behind a door as she had yelled her way out of the building. He hadn't been able to see her, but he had heard her.

"I have nothing. Nothing. And if you don't know the definition of nothing? Then look at me."

Her words had burned him so brutally that he had to physically make himself stand still and not run after her, saving her from this mess. But not him. He was not going to go running after her ever again. He was done with that.

He was grown now, and no matter how sweet her voice sounded, that was not happening.

"How is the party coming?" He asked. Jacob stared at him.

"Invitations are being hand-delivered today," Jacob responded. "The staff at the Plaza is more than willing to have us use the old ballroom, and everything will be set for Friday."

Chuck nodded, pleased.

"Do nothing about Miss Waldorf. I will take care of it then," he responded, and Jacob slowly nodded.

"Yes, sir."

When they arrived at the building he swiftly made it inside when the guards saw him one of them came forward. They all looked nervous.

"Mr. Bass, sir," he greeted. "You had a visitor."

Chuck sighed. "I'm not in the mood."

"But sir…" The man continued. "We thought… After this morning…"

Chuck stopped and stared at the man. "Who?"

"A Mrs. Eleanor Waldorf."

Chuck's skin felt slightly cold and tingly. Eleanor. Well… His life seemed suddenly invaded by Waldorfs.

"When did she leave?" he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

The guard looked at each other, uncomfortable. "We…We put her in one of the rooms, sir."

"She's still here?" He demanded, confused, excited, utterly taken by surprise.

"Y-yes, sir."

Chuck studied the man. He wasn't lying. They were all jumpy, especially since Alex had been fired.

Eleanor Waldorf to see him. He smiled slightly.

"Send her to my suite," He commanded. He turned to Jacob, who looked as interested as all the others. "Have lunch brought up. I'm having lunch with Eleanor Waldorf."

Jacob nodded, watching Chuck enter the elevator by himself. He didn't exactly know what was going on inside of the man's head, but regardless, he had a feeling that the Waldorfs were quickly entering Chuck Bass' life and not leaving at all.

--------

To be continued

A/N - This is most likely the longest fic I've done for GG, based on the outline I have it'll be at least over 20 chapters so I'm taking my time setting up the characters and the situations, but patience once CB meet their paths will keep crossing. :)