AN: Your sympathies lie on such different characters that I will take it as a measure of success. I did not want this to be one-sided. I am trying to portray them all as human, with flaws and insecurities and sins. I cannot tell you how much it means to me that a lot of you have formed sympathy for Carter, some for Chuck and a few for Blair.

Part 5

They had grown leaps and bounds. Between them they had closed gaps as wide as an ocean, and became better for it. Yet even as much as—and she would deny it to him but he knew it was true—Serena loved him now, her first loyalty—between her stepbrother and her best friend—would always be to Blair.

And he thanked her for it.

It was rare to find that kind of unwavering love in the Upper East Side.

Chuck had turned away abruptly from the horror of Carter Baizen's happiness. Oddly enough, he was comforted by that last hateful glare Blair had sent his way the moment that Carter held up his diamond to her. Had she avoided his gaze, had she kept her attention on that ridiculous ring, he would have been more hurt than he was that she looked at him at that precise moment with such stinging malice he wondered why he did not burst into flames.

But she did. And he saw it in her eyes.

That hatred.

It was almost as fiery as her passion on the first weeks since they reunited.

"Chuck!" she squealed.

He tossed her down onto the bed, sending her sprawling on the tight ironed sheets. He jumped on her, and his fingers were all over the buttons of her blouse. In his mouth he still had a stem of one of the pink roses he had given her.

"This is insane," she said, giggling at the sight.

Chuck spit out the flower and it dropped right beside her head. "Why is it so insane?" he asked, his lips searching for the pulsepoint behind her ear now.

Blair shivered. "Because we just got back together," she gasped. She felt the hardness of him against her stomach, and her first instinct was to run up against him. "Chuck, we still need to talk about everything."

But her hands were on his belt. She then pushed down his pants and took his length in her hand, starting pumping him up and down. He lengthened, grew thicker in her grasp.

He hissed, then dropped his forehead against her chin. "What do you want to talk about?"

She helped his get rid of her underwear by kicking them off, then she wrapped one leg high above his hips. She wriggled her ass so that she would move lower on the bed. Guiding him, she opened herself up and bit her lower lip when he slid in inch by excruciating inch.

"There were other—"

"No," he breathed against the sweat that formed on her neck. "No."

Chuck thrust in all the way, and her eyes squeezed tightly shut. "What?" she breathed, raising her hips up to meet him.

"There weren't others. That time didn't exist," he told her.

Blair opened her eyes, held his gaze as he pushed in and out of her. She blinked away her tears. "Everything's forgotten?"

"Already forgotten."

"I don't like seeing you like this."

He turned around and saw his stepsister leaning against the doorway. It was the balcony he sought refuge in, where it was quiet, where no one could see him. Chuck nursed the glass of scotch in his hand and smoked as he mulled over that last look she gave him before she said 'yes.' It was that last hateful look that gave him hope.

"You don't have to stay and watch," he responded sarcastically.

But even then, when Serena stepped out into the balcony, he put out his cigarette. "Thanks," she murmured, placing a hand on her slightly swollen belly. She took a deep breath, and his eyes fell to the swell of her pregnancy.

She must have caught his uncomfortable stare, because Serena placed a hand on his arm. He raised his gaze to her. His lips thinned. "How's the little Humphrey?"

Serena shook his head. And it was not that she thought he did not care. Frankly speaking, he cared about the half of the kid that was Serena's and the half that was Humphrey's merely came with it.

"Didn't I tell you not to come?" Serena said, a gentler version of 'I told you so.'

He smirked, then leaned back against the railing. "And miss this?" he scoffed. "The happiest day of her life?"

It was not. He told her once that he knew her better than he knew himself. And he could tell from the moment he saw her breathe.

"You're a masochist," Serena observed. With a wry smile, she commented, "But so is she."

Chuck tossed back his drink and placed the glass on the balcony railing, watched as a dark ring spread around the bottom. "Have you talked to her?" he inquired, his voice quiet.

Serena sighed, then glanced back towards the party. He followed her gaze and spotted Blair in Carter's arms as they danced to music he did not hear. Baizen had always been an accomplished dancer. It was why the matrons adored him and competed for his services as escort to their progeny every year at Cotillion.

But Baizen paled in comparison to Blair.

Behind her smile there was a ghost. He wondered if Baizen saw it, or if it was only him who could tell. She laughed in Baizen's arms, threw her head back and exposed her gleaming throat.

The diamonds that frosted her neck were not his.

She would forgive him anything. She loved him that much.

"Chuck, if she's happy, shouldn't that be all that matters?" asked Serena.

Instead of answering her, he placed his elbows on the railing and looked out at Manhattan. He licked his lips, and noticed Serena emulate his pose. His gaze landed to where her dress curved around her early pregnancy. He frowned, then pulled a new stick of cigarette from his case.

It was an effective dismissal.

Serena shook her head in exasperation and started walking back to the party. When she pulled open the door, he told her, "Six months."

Serena stopped at the doorway and looked at her stepbrother. "What is?"

Chuck swallowed, then sucked on the stick before puffing out the smoke. "My kid would have been about half a year old now." His voice dropped. "You ever wonder how I would be now if—"

"You would've been great," Serena interrupted.

He smirked, as if genuinely pleased by the statement. "Or I would've been disastrous." Like Bart. Probably. Bart was all he knew.

"She wouldn't have let you," Serena pointed out.

They talked about her as if she died that night. From what he learned, she might as well have.

"You'd be a playground dad, Chuck."

Did she think Carter would be any better? The man, after all, had been all games. At first, it had been a game, the man admitted to him a long time ago. Get back at Bass by sleeping with his girl. At first, that was what he said. And damn if it was not evident now, in the simple gesture of Baizen's hand on the small of her back, and the way he waved over a waiter to hand her some champagne, that this was not a game.

~o~o~o~o~

He followed her with his eyes until she vanished behind the bathroom door. Carter picked up his own flute of champagne and weaved his way through the crowd, greeting people he barely liked.

"Network," she had advised him before they arrived. "Establish relationships. You're going to need them when you take over."

If he had a choice, they would still be far away. This was a world he was not home in; and this was a home her world shattered over.

"Costa Rica," he answered her, and she understood.

A year out in the world, and there was nothing that they did not know about the other. Even the things she kept from him, for his sake, he knew. But it would not break them. Nothing could.

Blair nodded, and then proposed, "How about Buenos Aires?"

"Let's do both," he told her. He leaned down to kiss her, and her lips parted willingly under his. "Someday."

He was interrupted by a firm hand on his arm. Carter turned and saw the blonde glaring at him. He grinned at the sight, at the somber look on her face. The woman thought she was terrifying, when even angered she looked adorable.

"If you're looking for Blair, she went that way."

Her eyes narrowed, her jaw locked, and her chin thrust out. "I came for you," she pointed out.

Carter's smirk grew, and he sipped his champagne. "Not interested. I'm reformed, you know." The door to the balcony opened, and Carter glanced up. His smile vanished. "I'm reformed," he repeated.

"Have you told her about Santorini?" she prodded.

Carter clenched his fists. Since his paradise began one year ago, he had been terrified more times than he could count. If they knew how adept he was now at binding cuts, at resuscitation. But they would never know. No one would ever know her the way he did.

Somehow, the reminder of something so far away scared him far more than the first time he found her cut and bleeding in the tub.

"Jesus, Serena, it was years ago!" he exploded. Carter grabbed her arms and spat out, "Let it go."

"If she's going to marry you, you have to tell the truth," she insisted.

One year he had spent taking care of her, bringing her back from the brink over and over when memories of Bass sent her spiraling away. Surely whatever else she knew from the time before her would not matter.

Chuck Bass had started to make his way over. Before Chuck made it to them, another man emerged, grasped his wrist. "Let go of my wife."

"Dan," Serena urged softly, "it's okay. Let's go."

Carter gave him a stiff smile, then released Serena's wrist. The husband placed a hand around his wife's shoulders and led her away. Carter could not resist the urge, and threw at them, "You ran me away once. You're not going to do it again."

Serena stopped, turned her head. "It's the same secret, Carter."

He was afraid the stem of his champagne flute would snap. He placed down the drink. "Then I'll tell her," he allowed. "Tonight."

Carter saw that Chuck had been close enough to hear. The other man frowned at him. It was Serena who asked. "Do you love her?"

Carter scowled. Chuck responded, "Don't answer."

"I didn't intend to," Carter growled. "It's none of your business."

When Chuck's eyes left him, and turned to someone behind him, Carter already knew what to expect. He turned to see Blair making her way towards them. He reached out an open hand and she placed hers in his. He pulled her alongside him and faced the three.

He turned back to her to teasingly whisper, "Two against three."

Instead of a smile or an acknowledgment, Carter glimpsed the panic in her eyes right before she grasped his face in both of her hands and pulled him down for an openmouthed kiss. Her arms then looped around his neck. His hands settled on her waist.

When their lips parted, Carter looked down at her with a smile. But her gaze already flickered to where the three had been standing. And it was only Serena and her husband that remained.

Carter saw the moment Serena snapped. The blonde stalked towards his new fiancé, grabbed Blair's hand, and demanded, "I want to talk to you."

He was so hurt.

The pain in his eyes had almost suffocated her. Even when he slammed inside her over and over with no control, with as much force as he had, even while he trembled in his barely contained rage, it was still the look in his eyes that ripped her apart.

"Chuck," was the first word out of her mouth when she woke up.

She could barely remember. All she knew was that she had hurt him. So much.

Her mother stood up and placed a soothing hand on her shoulder.

"Chuck," she rasped. Eleanor brought her a glass of water and helped her drink. "Mom, where's Chuck?" she demanded frantically.

"He didn't mean to do what he did, Blair," her mother said gently.

What he did.

"He was very hurt," Eleanor continued.

Blair could tell from the sheer passion behind his look.

"I want to see him."

"Fuck you, bitch," he had spat at her. But he had been hurt, so angry. He did not mean it, she told herself.

"Nobody can contact him," Eleanor informed her.

"I'm leaving. For Monaco. For Bangkok. For Cairo. Wherever. I want you gone by the time I come back."

She broke him.

God, she broke him. She could tell from the sound of his voice, from his eyes. There was a ghost inside him. And all the love in the world could not fix him.

Just like he said, he left her.

"Blair, the police will want to talk to you. You were the only ones there. He pushed you, but it was an accident, wasn't it?"

It was plain on his face.

He wished she was dead.

She loved him.

"Honey, why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?" Eleanor said gently.

Her hand flew to her belly. She was going to tell him tonight.

"It's gone, Blair."

Tears bloomed in her eyes. She shook her head. "No," she whispered. "Get me a doctor."

"Blair—"

"Get me a doctor!" she screamed. "Get me a doctor now."

The door slammed open, and Blair's tear-streaked face rose, expecting Chuck. Nate stood there and he raised his hand. "I'll get him."

"Honey," her mother's voice soothed. "Honey, take a deep breath."

But she was sobbing, sobbing so much she was almost laughing. The emotions bubbled inside her, spewing from her mouth. This was what it was like. She had heard of it before, never experienced it. But her throat was raw, and she could no longer breathe.

"I'm sure he's very sorry."

tbc