Chapter Forty-Nine

Swarovski Doorknobs

She is water

Soft enough

To offer life

Tough enough

To drown it away.

''You must be freezing.'' Serena felt she couldn't stop her mouth from moving. She was aware of her unstoppable blabber ever since they found Blair wandering the streets of Manhattan late at night. It happened just after Chuck called Nate, desperately seeking help to locate her. Where his wife went, why did she leave - those were questions he chose to answer with silence.

Looking at her pale, sunken face now and that ghastly wound - it made sense why he would keep quiet.

Serena's meaningless words continued as they all huddled together in spacious living room of Nate's apartment. The prolonged silence was too heavy and she felt the dangers of it. There was no good in stifled truths. Trying hard to be subtle, Serena eyed the crusty cut on the side of Blair's lip.

It couldn't be him.

He loved her. He had proven it over and over again.

But the biggest love hurts the most. The worst wound of it all.

Shunning away these morose thoughts, for they were not becoming to her nature, Serena smiled softly. ''How about a cup of tea? Do you want some coffee maybe? Are you hungry? We have some chicken in the fridge.''

Blair merely stared out the window at the dark sky, eyes enigmatic.

''You can go and wash up. Bathroom is just down the hall. ''

Blonde gingerly laid her hand on a stiff shoulder and Blair seemed to shake out of a trance at the touch. She stiffly nodded and got up.

''Blair?'' Nate, who had been in the corner the whole time as his girlfriend bustled around the girl as if taking care of a injured bird, finally piped up.

For some strange reason, he remembered a story few years back, a story of a banker who had it all - family, business enterprise and a happy life. Fighter for equal human rights, major charity donor. Scholarship for kids in need sponsor. But one day - almost out of the blue - papers were all over his divorce and abuse allegation coming from his wife. Only a month later, he lost custody over his two children and majority of his assets.

People snap like a twig. Georgina Sparks is another proof of it. Cream of Manhattan society knew the risk and it was never talked about. Because the prize, merely to be a part of the most elite society on the planet, is considered to be worth of it all.

There was always a smoldering dark wave of violence under Chuck's collected composure. Anthony's bruised face was several times the proof of it. But the beast in him always seemed to be under control. Even the last time he was here with Blair, after finding out her secret, that beast in him skirted around the edge - but never crossed the line.

The question needed to be asked. Excuses needed to be burned down.

''Did Chuck hit you?''

Blair stared at him with a composed, leveled look. She didn't even blink at such acute question, but he could feel the powerful energy oozing from her glare - nearly Delphic. She said nothing and merely went to the ladies room, Serena following suit.

It was all the answer that he needed.

Nate grimly remembered Chuck' phone call. Thick desperation in his best friend's voice stunned him. Those frantic rushed words had him parking the car on the side of the road just to make out the words. Even before he picked up, he knew something was wrong.

Because there were no five-minute phone calls anymore where they would set up a quick jet to Las Vegas and spend the night gambling and pinning their earnings at a stripper's thong. They didn't party anymore. They barely hung out, just the two of them. Lately, if one called it was a plea for help.

Only this afternoon Bart stripped down and drained every bank account Chuck had. Invitation for lunch was only a trap to taunt him further. The guy was too proud to tell anyone and accept help, despite Nate's incessant offers. He knew how hard his best friend worked and managed Tropic - ever since they were all sixteen; a bunch of reckless kids with too much time on their hands, thinking they owned the world.

Chuck was never like them. He built his own world himself, only for it to be all taken away. For it to be stolen, just as he was starting a family. Just as he might have a baby on the way. And all of that because he chose someone they didn't approve of.

Considering legal and moral laws, Manhattan's golden youth had done far worse things than loving a wrong person. But in their world, going against your parents was the worst offense one can do. It could cost you everything you ever had. Even those things you acquired by your own effort. Even those things that you thought can never be taken away.

Nate pressed his lips together. He texted Chuck, letting him know they found Blair.

Though conflicted, Nate thought his best friend at least deserved to know his wife was safe and sound.

Half an hour later, they sat in the living room while jasmine tea and chicken teriyaki went cold. Blair was starving, but in no mood to eat. Her lip hurt if she tried to open her mouth.

Everything was numbed down, lost in fast-forming constructions of a plan.

Serena sat on the other end of the couch, going on about most absurd, irrelevant things - like Paige's failed Runaway Project audition. There was no feedback to be given nor was one needed. Somehow, in a strange way, it managed to relax Blair. It made it easier for her to shut off completely. It made it easier to ignore Nate's troubled gaze that settled on the scar.

Until the doorbell rang.

The sound effectively stopped whatever was going on in the house. Blair stiffened, immediately sensing it was him. Her nose seemed to smell his perfume from miles away. One unsettled look at Nate, smoothly covered with faux cover of self-control, was all direction he needed. The guy slowly stood up, leaving ladies in the living room.

''I need to see her.'' Chuck urged anxiously as the doors shut in his face. He didn't fight as he was carefully steered back towards the outside. His lips were set in a grim line that deepened every crease on otherwise smooth face, eyebrows knotted. His face showed excessive amount of mental force the mind was exerting at the moment.

''It's too soon,'' Nate replied, feeling himself grow old and wise in just one night. He used to be the silly one, the goofy one. One that only cared about shine of his hair and cars. Tonight, he was handling lives of two people he cared about deeply.

''I lost control,'' Chuck whispered as if there was something in his throat, his eyes darting around. He clutched his hair into his fists, disheveling it as he tried to take deep breaths. ''I don't know what came over me.''

''Go home,'' Nate calmly said, not able to find a way to sympathize. He thought it wasn't fair to Blair. This wasn't a part of the game they used to play last year. They had grown up in the meantime. They were supposed to be a family; Chuck and Blair, Nate and Serena. They were supposed to stick together, not hurt each other. That was the deal. ''Get some rest. Blair is here with us, she's about to go to sleep. It's late.''

''I can't go until I see her!'' He growled desperately, slanted dark eyes pinned on the great mahogany doors. ''I have to see if she's alright.''

''Man, just go.'' Nate murmured, sighing. ''You both need some time, I'll call you in the morning.''

Chuck was left on the street, his back hunched, staring up at those great big doors.

''You didn't sleep?'' Serena's green eyes widened as she peeked her head in a guest room.

The girl sat motionless on a made queen size bed, staring out at a beautiful sunny day. Taffy silken sheets were pulled tightly in the corners, not a single wrinkle on them. Pillows were fluffed and symmetrically arranged. Blair said nothing and still looked out. Considering her mother's profession as a maid, Serena decided to ask no further question.

Disheartened, she noticed the untouched set of spare clothes Serena carefully laid out last night. Taking great care to indulge Blair's sense of style, she picked navy Burberry knitted sweater with Calvin Klein crispy white shirt to match underneath. She even added black tights and burgundy Gucci skater skirt to wear instead worn-out jeans Blair currently sported.

It had given her serene satisfaction, choosing the items of her closet, knowing it would help make Blair feel better. The girl, ever since revealing true identity, always wore plain and frayed hand-me-downs. Such vivid contrast to those lavishing brands she proudly had in freshman year. By the way Blair kept pulling her sleeves, hem of no-name shirts and picking on frays of her Target jeans - Serena knew she hated the wardrobe.

Somewhere there was a girl who appreciated quality brand. The stitchings on Chanel silken blouses. The vivid colors of Tori Burch flats. Collection of velvet headbands Fendi just released. Serena wanted to give her that. As a proper Van Der Woodsen, she had more than plenty to spare. But instead of taking it, Blair sat instead in yesterday's outdated outfit.

Was it the pride? Or the shame?

''I made you a smoothie,'' Serena added more cheerfully as those questions were out of her league.

The trey held crystal glass full of thick green liquid. The bottom was signed by Alexander McQueen, part of personalized set for his Manhattan boho muse. She sat down on a pink velvety love seat opposite, crossing her legs and putting hands on her knees. ''It's avocado, parsley, banana and a kiwi. Nate makes a whole bucket every morning. It's disgusting, but really boosts your energy. I pretend to like the taste. It makes him happy.''

''You know... If you don't want to, we don't have to talk about it.''

Her knee continued to bounce nervously as no reply came. Worst of all, she knew Blair was never the one to keep quiet. This silence of hers was making her nervous. What was going on in her head? Deep down, Serena knew her stay here was nothing more but a pit stop. Where else would she go if not back to Chuck? As was the rumor, Blair's family gave up on her.

The realization knocked on her beautiful glass bell; world outside was not safe.

''I just want you to know you can rely on me, B.'' Serena added with a small smile as nothing was said. But then the smile fell as she realized something. Who was she to help her? They had bad taste of history and Serena did nothing to redeem herself so far.

''I won't bother you anymore.'' She quietly added and rose up to leave.

''He's there.'' Blair suddenly said, voice dull. ''In his car. He slept in it.''

Serena quickly walked up to window and pushed heavy curtains aside. There it was, Chuck's car, parked where it was last night. Blair ignored her outraged look and proceeded to her smoothie. Looking very unbothered, she merely flinched while taking a sip, daintily dabbing with a napkin at the wound that just re-opened.

Serena suddenly felt very protective of this girl, whether her help was wanted or not. Blair slept in the room with her abuser right outside of the window. Filled with aggressive sympathy, the mere thought made her sick to her stomach. Infuriated, she marched out of the room, out of the building and forcefully knocked at the tinted glass that rolled down only after some hesitation.

''What are you doing here?'' She demanded, wrapping her sequined cardigan tightly around her. The morning was cold, despite the bright sun. Air that hit her from Audi was warm and stuffy. ''Didn't Nate tell you to go home?''

''Is Blair awake?'' Chuck groggily asked, his bloodshot eyes staring at her with peculiar emptiness. ''I need to see her.''

''She doesn't want to see you,'' Serena quipped, taking into account his crumpled suit from yesterday, messy hair and sleepy eyes. ''Go home and take a shower, Chuck. You need it.''

She stared at his miserable face. Always so groomed and trimmed, Chuck definitely looked his worst. There were dark circles under his eyes, accompanied with a slight stubble. Guy who had his toilet water smell like Ambre Topkapi was now in serious need of a basic soap.

But upon closer inspection, past the grubby look, Serena's intuition sensed an emotion flickering behind the cover of darkness in the depth of his iris. It was warm and wretched. Something heartbreaking that moved Serena, despite her resolution to shun him away. She sighed, feeling sorry for her best friend against her better judgment, ''Give her some time.''

''No.'' Chuck snapped, that astounding ardor coming back to flame his eyes, ''I don't have time.''

Serena yelped as the car doors forcefully opened, nearly knocking her down, and he marched right to the doors.

''Hey!'' She called out angrily. ''Basstard!''

He found them in the living room, quietly talking amongst themselves. Steam swirled comfortably from cups of coffee on the table. Once upon a time, his soul would light up at the scene.

Today was not that day.

Today, he felt the dread slowly descend upon him at the sight.

TV was off, first wrong thing he noted. Blair liked to listen to the news early in the morning, to get a grasp of what was going on in the world and to be ahead of everything.

Inhaling deeply, he managed the courage to take a shaky step.

There were violets in the vase, instead of a pink peony or a purple hydrangea.

Ashamed. He felt so painfully, immensely ashamed.

There were cherries in a bowl instead of strawberries. There were no papers laid out. There was no laughter. No sweet-talking laced with soft, loving kisses.

The night without her was long and dark, an endless void of loneliness.

This was all wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Their eyes met and Chuck felt his heart stop as he seized her appearance. Beautiful. Beautiful and broken. The memory of her leaving would forever be imprinted upon his mind as one of the most painful reminders of his darkness.

The sins of his father still boiled in his blood, corrupting everything he touched.

His ribs coiled around the beating flesh as she indignantly raised her chin and looked away, as if not bearing to look at him. The heart writhed painfully under the cage of bones. He knelt down next to her.

''Blair,'' He laid a hand on her arm, but all she did was flinch away as if he was poisonous. ''Please forgive me.''

Because that's what he came here to do. To beg for forgiveness, for a grain of her love, to kiss her feet. He knew he did her wrong and he knew he was to be punished. But he came here to bring her home, to kiss wounds he had inflicted and to cry at her lap. Because he was weak, he was nothing without her.

Yet, she sat with her head turned away, too disgusted to even touch him.

He felt his whole body shake as everything crushed under his palm. The dreams they had, plans of the future, their family. It was all crumbling down and he needed to fix them, to save them before it was too late. Chuck tried to take her hand, but she once again wrought out of his grip without looking at him. Still seated at the same spot, she effortlessly turned her back to him, as if he was nothing but a pest.

''Please, hear me out-''

''Chuck,'' Nate laid a firm hand on his shoulder just as Serena walked in, out of breath. ''C'mon, man. Go home.''

If he could stand a second longer being ignored by her, if it didn't hurt as much as it did knowing he was the one that destroyed them, Chuck would be kneeling next to her until his knees gave out. But he knew his wife. He knew there was nothing he could do or say right now that would make her hear him out. She was determined to ignore him, to refuse to acknowledge his mere presence.

So all he could do was accept the defeat of this battle and continue planning winning the war. All bets were out.

Officially, he had nothing to lose.

Jenny stood aghast, not bothering to hide the horror she felt at the moment.

The hired staff carried boxes full of Georgina's personal belongings to god knew where. Instead, in her room was placed the newest gym equipment. As if nobody used to live here. Not Georgina. Not her father. Not her mother.

Just Diana, whose unabashed laughter could be heard from the living room.

Jenny fumed at the sound, tightly clutching her fists. Her mother, just coming back from the Humphrey Design fashion store, perceived her daughter in the Sparks hallway and joined her with perplexed look.

''Stop!'' Jenny intercepted one of the workers, pulling an aged fluffy teddy bear with a red bow on his neck. Surprised, she could hardly believe G. kept the old thing. What did she call it? Jenny couldn't remember.

It'd been months since she was locked away in a mental ward.

''I can't believe they are doing this.'' Allison muttered, putting her hands on her daughter's shoulder.

Jenny embraced the teddy bear, revolted with how things have turned out to be in last couple of months. Instead of getting help in private clinic, Georgina was cast off in state institution. Nobody came for a visit. According to Diana, Jenny was supposedly still waiting for an approval from Sparks lawyer to come and see her..

''Don't damage the walls, please!'' Diana's voice could be heard along with the sound of high heels approaching. ''I had them re-painted just last week - oh, hello.''

''Diana,'' Allison nodded tightly, lowering down her hands.

''You're emptying Georgina's room?'' Jenny asked, arching her brow.

''It's just a tiny change,'' Diana replied, stunned with a direct question, rubbing her neck. ''I'll storage them until she returns.''

''As if she might never even come back,'' Jenny clutched the teddy bear tighter. ''As if you don't have enough rooms for a private gym. Or money to hire a private trainer, which you already have.''

''Jenny,'' Allison's sharp voice was warning enough. Her daughter, too smart to know when to keep quiet, stalked back home.

Allison cocked her head, too smart to know what was going on, but just like all regular society ladies - giving rules of decorum too much importance. It wasn't polite to bring another's failings into the light. Oblivion was the most common practice in this case, but Allison's motherly instinct managed to prevail the rules of society. ''I heard you're also re-decorating Millenium.''

A hotel which belonged solely to Georgina. As her legal guardian, Diana merely got a temporary authority over the ownership. Yet it didn't stop her for making major decisions to spend billions on a thing such as renovation.

''Why do I feel like you're judging me?'' Diana asked pointedly, crossing her arms.

''I'm not. I just thought you might act a bit differently.''

Allison thought Diana would finally be a mother Georgina long needed. But instead, the girl was left abandoned and forgotten - sick and in dire need of a help. Diana paraded around the hotel and charity balls, flaunting newest gowns and most expensive jewelry, as if her husband didn't die only last year. She danced, she laughed, as if not having a care in the world.

''How was I supposed to act?'' Diana defended, raising her brows. Allison noticed the forehead skin remained static, clear sign she was starting to use botox. ''Georgina tried to kill someone! I did everything I could do. Was I supposed to rent a room in the ward too?''

''No.'' Allison shook her head sadly, turning to leave. ''It would have been enough to pretend like you're not actually enjoying yourself.''

''You're married.'' The counselor stated, unconvinced, while looking down at her very personal details. ''Yet you're applying for a dorm room?''

Blair squeezed tightly her thumbs, wishing she would have washed her hair before leaving Serena and Nate. Back there, in the nest of Swarovski doorknobs, Egyptian cotton and faucets covered in gold, everything was a reminder of dreams she unconsciously sacrificed for love. Of dreams that lay dormant for too long. She had become weak, choosing to rely on someone else instead of pursuing aspirations that burned in her ever since she was a child. Lot in battle for love, her passion for ambition had nearly wilted away.

Finally, she was set free.

Finally, she began to feel like her old self.

The counselor carelessly dropped down the file and peered at her over her reading glasses. The answer to come was plain obvious. Blair was far from filling the requirements and very much overdue with the application.

''This won't suffice.'' Nancy Webster, as the nameplate said, barked out, nodding towards the doors. She was dismissing her. A rejection in only few minutes.

Love had taken her for a prisoner. It was time to get destiny back in her hands, to take control of the future.

Blair didn't come here to get rejected. She exhaled heavily, raising her chin to meet Nancy straight in the small, beady eyes. ''You don't understand, Nancy. I need that room.''

Nancy, with her tight bun with absolutely no single stray hair, looked surprised. For a fleeting moment, her eye flickered to nearly healed wound on the once split lip. It did not break her resolution, as it perhaps would with anyone else, but merely found enough pity to soften her voice for a single note.

''Look, Blair,'' She started with a more conversational voice. ''I'm looking at your current GPA. It has fallen drastically. You're on a good track of losing your scholarship. I can't take you in with these grades and status like yours.''

Blair bit her lower lip tightly. How could she explain that she couldn't study because she was kicked around from one place to another, like a starving dog. How could she explain that she had been on a run from someone for the past year? That her family had abandoner her? That her husband turned against her?

''I will get my grades up.'' She spoke with undeniable determination, eyes flashing with a purpose. ''I will not lose that scholarship. I worked too hard to acquire it. I am aware that I'm far from the ideal candidate, but if you don't accept my request, I will be forced to sleep in the courtyard. I'll get a sleeping bag, it's no problem. A homeless man down the street agreed to sell me one for ten dollars. Someone will notice and then I will be arrested for loitering. Do you think they provide textbooks in jail?''

Nancy's thin eyebrows drew up as she lowered down her glasses and carefully laid them on the desk. Bewildered, she stared at Blair as if just seeing her. A student of prestigious university such as Constance to be caught sleeping in the courtyard?

Nancy would never heard the end of it from Brenda, Princeton counselor.

The very same evening, Blair clutched the paper with her acceptance form and room number. Her first step was complete.

She walked the hallway, looking at countless doors and counting down to her very own room.

''Lookie, lookie,'' A girl spoke out as they met in the way, flash of recognition in her eyes. ''Isn't that Blair, wife of Chuck Bass and child of most famous janitor of Upper East Side? Our very own Cinderella?''

Blair picked up her steps as more girls peeked their heads out of the rooms to check out the bustle. Some were already dressed in pajamas and others were in the middle of putting on make up or straightening their hair, getting ready for a party.

They all knew each other, they were all already familiar.

And here she was, once again alone and taking on the world by herself. Just as it was supposed to be all along.

A/N: I am aware some of you might have found Chuck hitting Blair was a far cry, but do you even remember 4x20? Let's not pretend Chuck was a one sided coin with a happy childhood and Archibald personality. There are 48 chapters of him trying to tame his darkness in the name of love. We all know he is a possessive character with unspeakable actions of hurting Blair (revenge sex anyone? Elle? Assaulting her in Nate's apartment?). Or the time he bullied her very own family moving in the building? This is just another manifestation of the toxic way he treats Blair.

Anyhow, this is Blair's last turning point towards the life she was always supposed to lead. Hope to read your reviews! :)