Summary: Just divorced, Chuck thinks that all is said between him and Blair. But why does she show up at his doorstep at night? Future fic.
AN: You guys are simply amazing! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, put this story on alert or their favorite list! I squeal everytime I see any of those in my inbox! So please keep them coming! So here, after a slightly longer waiting time, the next chapter. Hope you like it. Enjoy!
Special thanks to Sam! Couldn't do it without you! *hugs*
Disclaimer: Still don't own anything. Unfortunatley.
Way Back Into Love
Chapter 6: Scared
"Chuck."
He looked up from the pile of files on his desk. In the door frame stood his step sister and going by her looks he could guess her next line before she opened her mouth.
"I need your help," she said.
Getting up he walked around his desk pointing suggestively at the sitting area by the large window. He studied her as she followed him there and settled herself down onto the dark leather couch.
"You sure look like it." The minute she'd walked in here he'd noticed her exhausted looks and the dark circles around her eyes that she'd tried to cover with make up unsuccessful. "What can I do for you?"
Mutely she took the glass of scotch he handed her. She drank out half of the liquid instantly. He'd been surprised when she hadn't declined the drink in the first place. But when she'd drowned a drink she didn't even like, before three in the afternoon, things had to be really serious.
"Chuck I really need to trust you. I'm hoping that deep down inside you're actually are a decent person and won't make me regret this."
"Now, why do I feel like we had that conversation before?"
"Well, maybe because I'm at my wit's end. Once again." Worn out she twirled the glass between her palms.
"I'm going to venture a wild guess here and say it's the same person that brings you here. Once again?" He poured himself a drink, too. Knowing that he'd need it.
"Yes."
"What did Jack do?" he asked.
Serena threw him a confused look. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb, Serena. I know she's with him in Switzerland."
"No, she's not." Serena took a deep breath before she continued. "She's here in Manhattan... in a hospital."
Chuck was seized with panic immediately unable to speak for a second. A million horror scenarios running through his head all at once. Had Jack hurt her? What had he done to her? Beaten her up while he was stoned? He'd kill the asshole.
"Why?" he asked quietly, his voice sounding awfully thin. "What happened? What did that bastard do?"
"She never was with Jack. And she never was in Europe."
"She never was with him?" Chuck was beyond confused now.
"About two weeks ago", Serena evidently struggled to find the words, "Blair discovered a lump in her breast..."
She might as well just punched him in the stomach. Lump wasn't good. But Serena needing him to talk about this was even worse.
"Benign?" he asked hopefully though already knowing the answer, since his sister wouldn't be here otherwise.
"No. It's invasive lobular carcinoma. She has had a mastectomy a few days ago."
What had been left of the usual serve self-control on his face dropped right the moment she finished her sentences. That just couldn't be true. Not Blair. Not his Blair.
"Beforehand it seemed like she would be fine once the surgery taken place", she paused for a second. "But it turned out the cancer had already progressed further than assumed."
A wave of guilt rushed over him. He should've known. The minute she'd shown up that night he should've known something was up. Seducing him after the dreadful divorce they have had, had been totally out of character for Blair. He wished that he could go back in time and stop her from leaving the morning after at the Palace. So that way he could've been there for her during all she had went through.
"Meaning?" He hold onto his glass so tight he expected for it to reckon any minute. Strung to breaking point by now. Somehow he hoped this was just a bad dream he would wake up from any minute now.
Serena quickly emptied her drink. "Meaning she's going to need chemo. Which she refuses vividly."
"Why would she--"
"Because she's scared out of her right mind," Serena interrupted him in the middle of his question. "Because she's terrified, but to proud and to stubborn to admit it."
Chuck nodded silently. He knew about the side effects of chemo. He could barley imagine how his ex-wife would deal with the loss of her breast, but chemo... that would add a whole new level of horror.
"She's released herself from the hospital today." Hearing that had Chuck immediately snapped out of his thoughts. "Against medical advice."
"Where's she now?"
"Her penthouse. Chuck, I don't know what to do anymore!" Serena buried her face in her hands, when she looked up it was tear stained. "She refuses to see me. She's not answering any of my calls or text'."
"What makes you think she'll talk to me. The two of you are clearly tighter than we are."
"Maybe." She sighed. "But you are Chuck." The tone in her voice indicated that just that fact would solve everything.
---
Frustrated Blair smashed the next available item, which turned out to be an innocent hairbrush, against the mirror. Staring at her reflection in the shattered glass, she felt so helpless it was ridiculous. The cancer had not only destroyed her former beautiful body, but it had left her dependent as well. Because of the missing musculature she was unable to do as much as put her hair up in a simple pony tail. Unable to properly dress herself and zip her dress up.
"Dorota!" she called out resignedly. She sat down on the edge of the bathtub, dashing away the thought that maybe she shouldn't have left the hospital that early after all. "I can't--"
A look towards the door later she stopped in her tracks. Chuck. Life-sized. Leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed in front of his chest and staring back at her. Blair's heart dropped immediately to her stomach.
She could see it in his eyes. He knew.
"Now what do you think you're doing here," she spat, her eyes flaming up with anger. Unwillingly to act as vulnerable as she felt. As he must've thought she was. Seeing her like this. Messy hair, a broken mirror and her dress unzipped.
"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was soft.
Her eyes were cold and cruel when she faced him from her sitting position. "Because it's none of your fucking business, anymore. You never were supposed to find out."
"But I did," he replied calm, before sitting down next to her. "And that makes it my business."
Blair eagerly shook her head, staring to the ground. "I don't want you here. I don't want you seeing me like this."
"Of course you don't." He rolled his eyes. "But if I'd ever listened to what you want, we would've never ended up together in the first place."
"Really not in the mood for a walk down memory lane, Chuck."
"Good. What do you wanna talk about?" he asked.
"I want you to leave!" she replied annoyed.
"And I want to be seventeen again. Not gonna happen either."
"Don't you get that I'm embarrassed?" her voice raised a little.
She felt his eyes burning on her as she walked over to the sink, leaning over it, her back facing him. Unable to face him any longer. Her hands were trembling heavily.
"Why would you be embarrassed?"
"Why?" she was almost yelling by now. "Seriously? Why?"
"Yes." He got up and stood behind her, his voice biting. "Why?"
When she didn't answer he twisted her around by her shoulders, resting his hands there. She had to swallow to keep herself from crying.
"Look at me, Chuck," she was shouting now, freeing herself out of his embrace. "I'm a pathetic sight. I'm unable to dress myself. I'm a mess. I'm distorted. I'm not even a real woman anymore."
He grabbed her chin forcing her to look him in the eye. "You're a beautiful woman, Blair."
She shook her head fiercely when she felt his arms wrapping around her. Pressing her palms against his chest in order to keep him away.
"Let me go!" she yelled hysterically. "I don't want you're fucking pity."
In result he only tightened up his embrace, where she still struggled to get free. She pushed and fought, but he wouldn't budge.
"You son of a bitch!" the yelling continued and she started to smack her tiny fists against his chest. "Why can't you just leave me alone? What makes you think that I need you now? You never were here any time I needed you before!"
Every time she'd managed to put a small gap between their bodies he pulled her right back. Whatever insults she threw at him he just stayed quiet. The harder she fought, the more tender he soothed her back.
Hot tears of anger and frustration leaked out of her eyes rolling over her cheeks, as her words softened. And her wrestling faded. She let her face rest against his shoulder, feeling his stubbly cheek against her own. When the familiar scent of him reached her nose the last bit of her self restrain went down the drain.
Her hands stopped pushing and held onto him instead. She let out a small sob, with more tears running down her face. Tears that slowly drenched the collar of his shirt. The sobs grew louder. Heart wrenching. Until she was crying beyond control.
"I'm so scared, Chuck," she admitted, slightly hiccuping.
She felt a kiss being placed on her hair, before he answered her. "I know, baby. Me too."
---
Chuck remained in the door frame for a moment, a tray in his hand. He'd to improvise something for dinner since he'd sent exhausted looking Dorota home. Taking care of Blair when she was in this state, had certainly not been a picnic for the maid.
He studied Blair who sat curled up in her favorite arm chair. She looked incredibly tiny. So vulnerable. All he wanted to do was wrap her in his arms and never let go.
But he knew that she would keep him at distance again now. The very moment Blair had laid in his arms crying he knew that once she would've settled down, her emotional protective shield would be up to it's all-time peak. She had always been like that.
Wordlessly he put the tray down on the mahogany table in front of her. On the couch across from her he sat keeping his eyes glued onto her. Even being seriously ill she was perfect to him.
It all seemed surreal. Only a week ago or so, he'd carried a dreadful divorce battle with this woman, making sure she wouldn't get a single penny to much. Now he would be willing to give away all of his fortune, if that only meant she would be healthy.
"Maybe you should take a picture," she suggested. "It'll last longer."
"I prefer the original," he answered, holding up a small bowl with fruit salad in front of her. "You should eat."
"I'm not hungry." She shoved the food away and crossed her arms.
"Still," he insisted. "Vitamins are important."
"I'm not hungry."
Only she could glare that furious in spite of her red, puffy eyes. In fact she looked angrier than she had in some of their worst fights.
"I don't care! You have to eat!"
Looking at her demanding he set the bowl down on the armrest of her chair.
"I said I'm not hungry!" Her voice was absolutely calm, which made it even more surprising when she smashed the bowl against the wall a second later.
Sighing he leaned back in his seat. Fantastic. Blair's natural temper composed with bullishness and mortal fear wasn't good. Not at all. But if she thought that a few shards and pieces of fruit scattered on the tiles were enough to scare him away she was wrong.
"What are you even doing here?" she asked, sounding tired.
"I wanna be here for you," he responded.
"Doing what? Watching me vegetate?"
She sounded so monotonous, it gave him the creeps. Her attitude was demoralizing. He wanted to shake her. He wanted her to fight. He wanted her to drop out of this nerve-stretching apathy. Even her crying her brains out was better than this. Deep down he'd really hoped that after her meltdown in the bathroom she would trust him enough to let him in.
But he really should've known better.
As soon as she had calmed down, she did what Blair did best. She went into denial. It was like the moment before had never happened.
"I'll stay." His voice left no room for discussion.
"Obviously I can't stop you." He watched her as she walked towards the stairway, not deign to look at him. "But I refuse to sit here with you and play house!"
"Don't push me away, Blair," he said, while walking after her. "I just want to make sure your okay."
"I'm not your responsibility, Chuck. You're not my husband anymore." She didn't even turn around to look him at him.
"But I am me." He could see her stopping in her tracks, tensing up. "Remember what you said to me after my father's funeral?"
Her eyes were cold as ice when she turned to him. "That was a long time ago. None of it is valid anymore."
"None of it?" he questioned, not believing a single word she was saying.
"None of it," she confirmed before continuing her way upstairs.
Anyone else wouldn't have had a single doubt about the trueness of her words. For a moment even he believed her. She was a good actress. Years of being the most manipulative bitch on the Upper East Side paid off well in moments like this one. Still, she wasn't good enough to fool her equally manipulative male counterpart.
Sighing he watched after her as she stomped off to her bedroom and slammed the door shut. Serena hadn't downplayed when she'd said Blair was stubborn.
But honestly what had he expected? That him showing up on her doorstep would be enough to change her mind about a matter of vital importance? The night at the Palace hadn't changed anything about what was destroyed between them interpersonal vise. What had been destroyed quite a while ago.
He was sure if things were the other way around he wouldn't want her here. - Subjecting the condition that she still cared about him enough to be here if circumstances lay vice versa. - But he still to refused to give up. Sooner or later the wall she'd built around herself would start to crumble. He'd just have to show a lot of patience. Something that wasn't necessarily a strong suit of Chuck Bass.
---
Blair awoke when it was already dark outside. A glance towards her nightstand clock revealed that she must have dozed off for a little more than five hours ago. Motionless she continued laying, closing her eyes again. Hoping that she would just drift back to sleep.
Sleeping was the most comfortable to her. When she was sleeping her thoughts wouldn't catch up with her. Thoughts about her life in general. Thoughts about decisions she had made in her life. Thoughts about Chuck. Thoughts about cancer and death in specific.
Getting through a day turned out to rather challenging these days. Being trapped in her apartment - even if it was by choice - could make twenty four hours feel like an eternity. Sleeping made time pass by a little faster.
When she slept she could escape the hard reality with her dreams. Those were surprisingly, considering the tragic circumstances, still most wonderful. In her dreams she was happy. And most of all healthy.
Every time she woke up reality hit her right in the face.
In spite of her best efforts sleep seemed to be out of the question. Even though her mind was incredibly tired her body was wide awake. Still she didn't move a bit, keeping her eyes closed. Hoping that her will power would be enough to make her drift off. She stayed that way even when the noise of the opening door reached her ears.
"Blair?" Chuck's voice was low. "Are you sleeping?"
Not moving the slightest bit she hoped he would just leave. For about a minute all she heard was silence. No sign of the anticipated shutting the door sound. When it finally came the exhale of relief got stuck in her throat as steps approached the bed. She did her best to keep her breaths even and deep, so he wouldn't bust her.
Which turned out especially hard when the mattress eased under his weight.
Of course she could've dropped her act. Yell at him. Tell him to fuck off, once again. But she knew it would be useless. She couldn't come up with the needed strength to fight him. Not right now. She would loose. Break down again. Like she had a few hours ago in the bathroom.
She still wanted to strangle herself for showing so much weakness in front of him. Him of all people. Why had he still that much influence on her? The closure she had hoped the divorce would give her had never appeared. But why? She had meant what she had said. She didn't want him here. If it wasn't for her illness he wouldn't waste as much as a thought for her. If she could take anyone's pity – she couldn't take his.
From the shifting on the bed she could tell that he had laid down next to her. Luckily her back was facing him. If he would be able to see her face, he would've known she wasn't really sleeping.
About a millions emotions rushed up in her when he rested his hand on her shoulder. Softly stroking up and down her arm. Only under immense struggle she kept up the Sleeping Beauty act. Almost disappointed when he drew his hand away.
"The worst thing you've ever done," he began, his voice barley a whisper. She could feel tears burning behind her shut eyelids." The darkest thought you've ever had. I'll stand by you through anything. I promise, Blair."
The mattress shifted again and she could hear him leave the room without as much as another word.
To be continued
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