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Chapter 2

Maybe different but remember
Winters warm where you and I
Kissing whiskey by the fire
With the snow outside

Serena paused before leaving the powder room, giving her reflection a last once-over in the gilt-edged mirror. Hair was in order, makeup in place, double-stick tape… still stuck, she confirmed, smoothing a hand across the low neckline of her gown.

After all, a Bass Industries gala was no place for a wardrobe malfunction.

She picked up her beaded clutch in one hand and the side of her skirt with the other- just enough to make sure she didn't trip over the hem and end up in an ungainly heap of silver stilettos and blonde hair- and made her way back towards the ballroom.

Glancing through the entrance of Oak Bar door as she passed by, she came to a sudden halt when she spotted a familiar figure at the far end of the bar. She hesitated for a moment before she pushed open the glass doors and ventured inside.

Chuck didn't look up as she approached. His gaze remained locked on the glass of scotch he was swirling in one hand.

"Hey," she greeted him. "Mom's looking for you, she thought you might have slipped out without saying goodbye."

He shook his head, still staring contemplatively into the amber-colored liquid as it caught and reflected the light.

"Just needed a break," he said in a subdued tone. "It was starting to feel a little… claustrophobic in there."

"Oh." Serena paused, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she regarded him with uncertainty. "Do you want me to leave you alone, or…"

"No," he refuted quietly. He gestured towards the stool beside him and Serena slid onto it, gathering the folds of her gown neatly around her knees.

The silence stretched out between them for a moment as she glanced out of the corners of her eyes, discreetly studying his profile.

She'd known Chuck nearly her entire life, but she'd never been able to read him well. Whether he was smirking or brooding, he always kept his thoughts hidden beneath a deliberately enigmatic façade.

And in recent months, maintaining the same veneer of composure had been easier for her, too. They were both hurting, both suffering from the same combination of heartbreak and betrayal. There didn't seem to be any point in commiserating or rehashing the details they both knew all too well.

So they'd simply leaned on each other, and Nate, for companionship, for camaraderie. For distraction.

But she could tell, just from watching his fingers trace absentmindedly around his glass, that his thoughts were far from investment capital and renovation plans at the moment.

"You know, I think mom's a little peeved that you're leaving so soon," Serena commented, offering him a little smile. "You didn't give her time to throw you a going-away party."

"Going-away parties aren't really my style," he replied sardonically.

"Your style is sneaking off in the middle of the night without telling anyone," Serena countered dryly. "So I guess we're just lucky you didn't do that."

He tilted his head in acknowledgment, a wry smile quirking his lips.

"But still… first thing in the morning?" she asked, studying his expression. "Is it really that urgent?"

"The deal was supposed to be finalized last week, so we're already behind schedule," he replied with a shrug. "I'm meeting with contractors Monday morning."

Serena nodded, and another pensive silence stretched between them.

"You know we're all going to miss you, Chuck," she offered softly.

His eyes flickered over to hers, a hint of gratitude in their hazel depths, before he looked away again.

Sensing his discomfort with the sentimentality, she continued in a more lighthearted vein. "I mean, how is poor Nate going to survive on his own? It's been three months and he still hasn't figured out how to work the espresso machine. And last Saturday, when he brought those two girls home from Marquee and got their names mixed up? You weren't around to introduce yourself, so he spent the rest of the night calling them both 'hey.'"

This earned her a soft chuckle.

"Nathaniel does struggle without a wingman," he commented wryly, smirking as he took a sip of his scotch. "That little blunder probably cost him a threesome."

Serena rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, how did I end up best friends with two total pervs?" she sighed.

Their smiles faded somewhat, as they both recognized the implications of her offhand remark.

"Chuck…" she began, biting her lip as she considered whether or not to broach the topic. "I really am happy for you. This seems like a great move for Bass Industries… and for you…"

She paused, and he regarded her with a raised eyebrow, clearly anticipating the "but" that was coming.

"But is that really the reason you're leaving?" she ventured.

Chuck's gaze dropped back down to his drink, his lips pursed slightly in contemplation.

"Maybe not the only reason," he finally conceded.

Serena nodded, a sad smile of understanding on her face.

"New York is your home, Chuck," she said gently. "You shouldn't let them drive you away from your friends and family."

He lifted the glass to his lips, taking a long swallow.

"And if I've learned anything…" she added wryly. "It's that running away from your problems never solves them. They're all just waiting right there for you when you come back."

"Trust me, I've noticed that myself." He gave a humorless laugh. "But I'm not running away."

"What would you call it, then?"

Chuck was silent for a moment, pondering her question.

"Starting over," he said quietly. "I've spent the last… four years, believing in something- in someone- above all else. Everything I did, everything I wanted. Everything I believed about myself… was because of her.

"And now that that's gone, I just feel like…"

He trailed off, his features taut and impassive.

"Like you're not sure who you are without her," she finished for him, feeling tears prick the back of her eyelids.

Because she understood, probably more than anyone, exactly how he felt. To have your life, everything you knew about yourself and the people you loved, crumble down to its very foundation.

To have the same people who'd always believed in you, who'd stood by you everything… just disregard you entirely. Like you didn't even matter to them anymore.

"You know, when I first came back from boarding school," she began, swallowing to keep her emotions in check. "No matter how hard I tried to change, to be better… no one really believed I could. They all thought I was the same out-of-control party girl, the same irresponsible trainwreck.

"The same… boyfriend-stealing slut," she added remorsefully.

She could feel Chuck's eyes on her, his unspoken empathy, as she stared off into the distance.

"Except for Dan," she said with a wistful little smile. "He always saw me differently than everyone else. He always believed in me, even when no one else did.

"You know when I ended up in the hospital last year, he was the only one who believed I hadn't overdosed? Even Blair thought I'd just… returned to my old ways."

She fell silent for a moment, twisting her fingers together in her lap.

"So what does it say about me," she said, her voice growing increasingly unsteady, "that the one person who always had faith in me could just… give up? And not even care anymore?"

A single tear escaped her eye, dropping soundlessly to the glossy surface of the bar, and she heard Chuck inhale a long, deep breath.

"Serena, it doesn't… say anything about you," he replied quietly. "But it does say something about Dan. He's not the person you thought he was."

She nodded, unconvinced.

"I mean… surely you've noticed by now," Chuck said, gesturing with his hand as if he were pointing out something manifestly obvious.

Serena raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"He's a fucking douchebag," Chuck said emphatically.

Serena smiled despite herself, sniffing back the tears that were still gathered in her eyes.

"Well, he wasn't always that bad," she defended herself.

"Yes, he was always that bad," Chuck countered with a snort. "He's so self-righteous, so convinced of his own moral superiority, so obsessed with finding reasons to look down on everyone around him, that he's incapable of acknowledging his own faults. Of which there are many."

She opened her mouth to disagree, but no rebuttal came to mind.

"For Dan Humphrey, judging is like breathing. You're lucky you escaped it for as long as you did," he added, a note of dark humor in his voice. "He was probably just distracted by the spontaneous erection he got every time he was within twenty feet of you."

Serena laughed aloud at that, shaking her head as she did so.

"You're terrible," she said reprovingly, but unable to keep the smile off her face.

"Look, Serena…" Chuck hesitated. "Although I hate to admit that the guy was actually capable of insight at one point in his life..." He flicked his eyes up at her. "He was right to believe in you. He was just wrong to stop."

They sat in silence for a few moments, Chuck finishing his scotch and starting in on a second glass, Serena contemplating their exchange.

"You know, Chuck," she remarked. "I think Blair's… so lucky."

"Really," he said sardonically, and she blinked in surprise.

"Oh, no, not because…" she waved her hand dismissively. "I mean… because of you."

Seeing his skeptical expression, she tried to find the words to explain herself.

"I mean… the way you feel about her," she clarified. "Like there's nothing you wouldn't do for her. Like you'd never give up on her."

Chuck's mouth twisted into something halfway between a smile and a grimace.

"I've never seen anyone love someone as much as you love her," she concluded, a faintly regretful note in her voice.

She'd finally come to terms with the fact that Dan's former infatuation with her could never compare that sort of unconditional love. Otherwise… he wouldn't have been able to just let go of it the way he had. To transfer his affections onto someone else as if she were irrelevant. Replaceable.

She still struggled to convince herself that she wasn't the reason for this- that there wasn't something inherently wrong with her that had made it so easy for him.

"I wish I didn't."

Chuck's words were almost inaudible, his gaze fixed on his tumbler propped between his hands.

"What?"

"I still love her," Chuck admitted, his tone low and thick with repressed emotion. "But I wish I didn't."

He exhaled slowly, maybe a little unsteadily.

"It just hurts too much," he murmured, raising his gaze to meet hers for the briefest of moments, before returning it to his glass.

This time, the tears she felt gathering had nothing to do with her own pain.

They were for that flash of hopelessness she'd glimpsed in his dark eyes. For all the hurt and grief he was keeping inside, concealed beneath a proud, stoic exterior.

"She still loves you too, Chuck," Serena said quietly. "I know she does."

Chuck just shook his head.

"Love doesn't just disappear," he quoted himself, with a mirthless laugh. "Except when it does…"

Serena understood why he felt the way he did, but she still couldn't believe it was true.

Blair had feelings for Dan, sure- obviously more than friendship, maybe even love. They were something new, and different, so she'd felt compelled to give it a try. Test the waters, satisfy her curiosity.

And she hadn't cared who she'd hurt along the way. Chuck's feelings, Serena's feelings… none of it had mattered, relative to what she'd wanted at that moment. She'd felt entitled to pursue her own happiness at the expense of everyone else's, without even a pang of remorse.

After the accident, after her miscarriage, and after the debacle at her wedding, Serena couldn't entirely blame Blair for gravitating towards something simple. Someone who just loved her without challenging her, who didn't inspire that intense, all-consuming love- and therefore the possibility of an all-consuming loss. Someone who just supported her, regardless of how irrationally she behaved.

But no matter what Blair had said, or done, or who she'd been with in the meantime, the one thing that had never wavered was her love for Chuck. Serena was sure of it.

Of course, that would be little consolation to the man sitting beside her right now.

A man who was supposed to be starting an exciting new chapter of his life- but instead looked as though he were mourning someone who'd died.

"Well, if it helps…" Serena paused, giving him an affectionate little smile. "I love you. I mean, not in that way, but still…"

"It doesn't," he said wryly. "But… thanks."

His eyes flashed back to hers, and they regarded each other for a moment, tacit understanding passing between them.

"Well, I should probably head back inside," she said finally. "You coming?"

"In a minute," he replied, turning his gaze back towards his unfinished drink. "Tell Lily I'll be right in."

Serena nodded and slid down off her stool, casting one last glance back at him as she made her way out the door.

She was on her way back down the hallway, her heels silent on the thickly-padded carpet, when she heard a sharp whisper echoing from around the corner.

"I'm not avoiding the conversation, I'm just saying this is neither the time nor the place for it."

"It's never the time or place for it, Blair," came the tense retort. "This is the same thing you always do, just stick your head in the sand and pretend like everything's fine, when it's perfectly obvious it's not…"

The heated voices increased in volume as the two rounded the corner- at which point they came to a sudden halt, two sets of brown eyes widening identically as they encountered Serena's startled blue ones.

She paused a moment, giving Blair a stiff little smile of acknowledgment.

And then, she walked past them without a word. Keeping her footsteps unhurried, features composed. Head held high.

Eventually, she told herself, she wouldn't have to pretend anymore.

Eventually it wouldn't hurt so much.

A/N: I have to say, the outpouring of support for this story so far has been really overwhelming. Obviously I think the show sucks giant balls at the moment, and I'm incredibly disheartened by what they've done to Blair and to CB - so, it's really comforting to know that I'm not alone in feeling this way. I know CB aren't over, and never will be- but the issue now is whether they can bring Blair to a point where I would even want them together again, so that's what I'm trying to do here. Anyway, I hope that reading this story helps you as much as it helps me to write it.

Thanks to Terrabeth for her beta magic, as well as for being my much-needed partner-in-bitchery during these… challenging times.

And thanks so much for taking the time to review (it definitely gives me a kick in the ass to keep going!): Aliennut, 13maggi13, bonafide11, Natalie2010, maryl, dreamgurl, 88Mary88, awwww, BlairGirlNo1, notoutforawalk, LunaSeasMoonChild, CBfanhere, scarlett2u, XY and Z, Stella296, RauhlPrincess, wrighthangal, Izzie, Iz, Ican'tbeMewithoutYou, Questacious, SoonerThanLater, annablake, iheartchair, loopingread, pty, Infinitywr, theghostqueen, Lacey, Incorrigible dreamer, livelybass (who finally got a FF account, yay!), Temp02, Nelly, AmyNY, Mademoiselle Bass, Black, epicchair, leah, Edlover, bfan, Rossiee, Love Still Stands, Trosev, 24hrscout, jsta, Sia, Eat The Hype Up, Lena, and Liz.