A:N: Woah. Been a month since I updated, it felt like longer because of this writersblock i finally got rid of. Geez, when I'm supposed to be doing geography homework and this comes to me instead. Anyway, your reviews are always loved, so review! review! if you have some time! (:

Chapter Thirteen:

Chuck Bass stood on the street, cigarette in hand, trying to smoke away his intentions.

Everything in his life had been disguised, diluted truth in every syllable. Maybe it was a telltale sign of age, compliance in some sense of the word, boredom with his upper-class life, but all he really wanted now were the truths.

He shivered, electrical wires of anxiety bounding through his veins. He would stand for nothing but the words he spoke tonight. It was his only chance at restoring some sort of agreement, in the least, with the mother of his only offspring.

Glancing up at the stars, a woven blanket of sparkling beacons, and Chuck wondered if they could guide him tonight, he prayed they would.

As much as he had held images of Blair in his being for the past eight years, as many times as he had fancied a life with her, his thoughts had only held one dimension then and nothing of what belonged in the present. She was, in his minds eye, just as she had been at twenty. His mental recognition of her had been paused then, frozen in place. And, no matter how much he loved her, she was a different woman now and the facts remained as solid as concrete.

Chuck didn't know her anymore, he didn't know his children. The only link between them were strands of DNA, it was the only claim he could stake to their lives. The thought alone hurt, as though he were pressing on a bruise, it was never meant to be this way. He had always promised he would never relive his father's mistakes and yet he had been all this time, even unintentionally.

The only thing he knew, as if it were much of anything, was that he needed to fight for her, for them. The love that had drawn him to Blair might be left in the depths of the past, but they would have to learn to live with each other now. She had no choice, he wouldn't give her one.

After all, they were merely one hidden meaning in a tapestry of years apart, things he could hardly recognize without squinting.

She would probably call him heartless, misunderstand his actions. If Chuck knew nothing else at this stage in the game, it was that he was stepping in on lives, breaking down carefully built up facts. But, he could only digest them as well as they came, and he hardly knew enough.

Dropping the cigarette, he ground it into the pavement and started towards the front door of the restaurant.

His love for Blair had once been a circuit board of lights, beaming and gentle, igniting the darkest corners of his apartment, of his life. Now, he simply wanted to hate her, to act as though he could leave the past in the past where it truly belonged, but what if he couldn't, not yet?

Chuck narrowed his eyes, adjusting to the lack of lamplight in the space. A waitress, long blonde hair and aqua eyes, guided him past statues of wax candles and towards his table, an irritated Blair already in the booth. She didn't move to stand up, to raise her eyes to his; she only frowned as she shifted in her seat.

"Anything to drink?" The waitress asked, handing them menus.

"Rum and coke," Blair replied in cold harsh tones.

The woman scribbled something on a pad of paper and turned her aqua eyes on him.

"A bottle of Perrier," He requested, "That is, if you have it." The bohemian style of the restaurant made him doubtful.

Then, they were suddenly alone; tension thick as boiling water.

His eyes skimmed her heart shaped face, she gave nothing away.

There was fire in her eyes, raging, lips in a thin line. "Charles," she acknowledged with a curt nod.

"Waldorf," He responded, "I guess its seven o'clock somewhere, right?"

"Don't tempt me," She deadpanned, looking over her menu at him. "I might as well try to make this less miserable than it already is."

"I'm flattered," He smirked.

"Don't be," She said, narrowing her eyes.

Chuck's heart was hammering against his chest, his nostrils flaring. He knew that if he moved, if he even breathed too suddenly, he might grab her hand, pull her into his arms, tell her to stop this nonsense. He clenched his fists at his sides, away from view.

Blair set her menu down, a beat of silence passed. The drinks slipped onto the table almost un-noticed and she finished hers in two swift gulps. After another quiet glass of scotch and half a bottle of bubbling water, her gaze melted a little, jagged even still.

"Look," She pushed hair out of her eyes, "Why don't we just skip dinner and get straight to ripping each other apart?"

Chuck looked away. The intensity of her stare held him in place and all he could see in her eyes were the missing pieces. The gaps he needed to fill were pasted all over her skin.

No amount of documentation, grainy pictures or wildfire rumour could sew him together as well as her words could. The little rounded messages that fell from glossed lips. He needed Blair to tell him what happened. He needed her to explain to him the reasons, how they'd gotten so broken, so unable to be together, that she'd married someone else, raised his children with another man.

He realized he hadn't said anything when Blair sighed.

"What do you want from me Chuck?" She asked.

Everything, he thought.

His tone was softer than he'd imagined it would be. "Why did you leave?" His lips curled across sharp teeth. He leaned into the back of the booth, his dry throat screaming for alcohol.

"You already know," She said, "Don't ask me that."

"If I knew," He parried, "There would be no reason for me to ask, now would there?"

She leaned forward, her milky skin caught under the light. The diamonds in her wedding band glinted in the near darkness. "This is what you wanted is it not?" She smiled sourly. "It's not really as hard as seems for you to be a responsible normal adult for a couple of hours, right? I have a lot on the line here, things you're trying to take away from me because of a choice I made years ago. There's entire life here but I can see that you're not ready to accept any of that."

"I can't accept what I don't know," He snarled.

Her response was quick, sharp. "It's ancient history Chuck."

"Is that all it is to you? I'm ancient history? It doesn't feel so ancient to me." He could tell she was just drunk enough to be slightly less deceptive.

"Eight years is a long time," She defended, "Longer than you'd think."

The mood had shifted, hot and loud to soft and gentle. Everyone had fallen away except for her, the heart-shaped face, hazelnut curls draped across her shoulders.

"You have to give me a chance," He said finally. It was true, he needed that much, what she hadn't given him before.

Blair scoffed, tracing her finger along the rim of her glass. It had been refilled at some point.

"I gave you so many chances Bass." It was said pointedly, to sting. He ignored it. "My entire fucking life was about giving you chances. Maybe, I was just sick of the same old thing."

"And this is your justification, what helps you sleep at night I suppose?"

He flagged down a waiter, ordering voka, three fingers on the rocks.

Blair shook her head, dropping it into her hands. "No, it's not. It made sense to me when I was young, young and stupid. I don't expect you to understand, I never could."

"Then I won't," He said simply, even if he desperately wanted to know how she could make this seem right.

Silence dragged between them, old and dusty.

Blair lifted her head, straightening her spine, her eyes on his, strong again. "You left me long before I left you. You were there," She gestured with a hand, "But you were never really there. I hardly saw you and when I did you were almost empty, used up from work, from your father's expectations. I saw it in your eyes, the hunger for approval, even from someone beyond the grave. You would have done anything to get it, to accomplish it all."

Blair inhaled sharply. "Somewhere along the line I woke up one day and you'd forgotten about me. I had to let you go, I did what was best."

Chuck was spinning; the emotion was raw, bubbling in his throat. He could hardly express it, place it anywhere inside himself.

"I never forgot about you," He said lamely, wishing he hadn't said anything at all.

She blinked, laughing dryly. "It wasn't enough for you. Please Chuck; don't hate me because I found something that is."

For a moment he lost his anger, misplaced it in a thicket of confusion. Then, it hit him all at once, running through his veins without apology.

"It still doesn't give you the right to go on as if I never existed as if I wasn't the father of your kids."

She winced at his words, as if they had shocked her. Blair stood up, clambering to get her coat, pulling it over her body. "I have to go," She whispered.

Chuck's nostrils flared, she was walking away from him with the same sad eyes, the same fractured movements. Again.

He rushed outside, trailing her onto the street. The cold air hit his bare skin like a thousand needles. Chuck reached for her arm, grabbing it. "Wait," He breathed heavily. He expected her to struggle but she stopped, allowing herself to be within his grasp if only for a minute.

When she turned to him there were tears in her eyes, diamond letters falling from her eyelashes. "You're in my thoughts every day, whether I want you to be or not. Tula," Blair bit out her name, "her smile is yours. They both have your eyes, your hair. I never get to forget about you, not even for a second! In some weird way you've always been a part of my life, in every big way and I guess you always will be. I've accepted it now, not that I ever had much choice. You don't know how much it hurts," She whispered, "Or how long it took. So go back to your apartment, live your life, you're not ready for this."

Before he could say anything she yanked herself from his hold, slinking into a crowd and Chuck was alone.

Alone with a piece of the past he never thought he'd get back, images of his children falling through his thoughts, one after the other. The love.