You May Hate Charade, But You Still Play The Game
Chapter Four: You Can Lie From Any Position, Can't You?
Summary: Post-season 3 finale. Blair is trying to get over Chuck in Paris, while Chuck is finding it too easy to get over Blair in Prague.
Author's Note: It's been so long, I don't even remember this story. But I must persevere, even though Eva's long gone and Chuck has what seems to be the majority of memory intact, LOL. I apologize for taking so long to write this up. Forgive me?
Disclaimer: Don't own GG, don't own Charade. Don't own much of anything, actually, aside from this laptop.
Look away from the hands, Blair commanded herself. Look away from the hands this instant! She was not about to waste time obsessing over strange French girls who may or may not be dating Chuck Bass. Not only did she not care one iota who Chuck held hands with or why, she was also aware that there were more important things to worry about. Things like Chuck Bass not knowing he was Chuck Bass. If the real Chuck were only sure of one thing, that would be it. She couldn't imagine what kind of a person he'd become without that simple fact to hold onto.
Charles (Chuck?) did his best to hide the creeping sensation of satisfaction he felt upon witnessing Blair's jealousy. It would do him no favors in either woman's eyes to be making light of such a serious situation. Blair would probably just slap him again, and Eva … Well, he didn't really know what she would do. Part of him wondered whether she'd been expecting this, but he didn't think he wanted to find out if it meant losing the one person he knew right now. He couldn't help the tiny smirk that broke out over his face, though, and unsuccessfully tried to cover it with a cough.
Blair narrowed her eyes when she saw the beginnings of Chuck's smarmy grin spreading out over his face. How dare he gloat about her feelings? She was about to formulate a scathing retort when his expression quickly dropped and was replaced by a coughing sound, leaving her at a bit of a loss. It was natural, if irritating, for Chuck to continue to parade around his hold over her even in the face of his many mistakes. It was very unnatural for him to not to take advantage of any weakness in her armor that he found. Under normal circumstances, she might have appreciated his attempt at being respectful. But as it was, she just felt like she didn't know the person she was looking at.
Serena's eyes flickered over the intensely awkward scene, trying to come up with a way to diffuse the situation. Blair was a master of mind games, but Eva looked like she might be scrappy if it came to physical blows. Chuck, meanwhile, looked like a perfectly innocent – if slightly clueless – angel. It was highly disconcerting. Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke with as much authority as she could muster. "I think it would be best if we brought Chuck back with us to the US, don't you think?"
Nate felt Serena's urgency and chipped in. "Yeah, he's got good doctors to look after him there – not that the ones you've been taking him to aren't good," he added, for fear of offending the woman by Chuck's side. "But everyone that knows him is in New York, so it'd probably be best…"
Chuck didn't even know what to say in reply. He wanted to go with these people, but he also didn't think he would like what he found when he got 'home.' The atmosphere was already so strange with these three – the three that had cared enough to come looking – that he worried about what others who were less close to him would think. Would he just be a constant reminder to everyone (not to mention to himself) that nothing would ever be the same? More importantly, did Blair's eyes dart uncertainly across his face because she didn't know what to make of his amnesia, or because she didn't know what to make of him as a person? Seeing this girl in the flesh made it even harder to shake the feeling that he had done something horrible in his past that he was better off not remembering.
"…So, thank you very much for everything you've done, um, Eva?" Serena was saying when Chuck's thoughts finally landed back on Earth. "But I think we can take it from here. If you jot down your information for me, my mother will see to it that you are compensated accordingly." She felt a little harsh dismissing the woman so easily, but there was no need of her now that they were here. Especially now that Blair was here.
Eva shifted uncomfortably at these words, not quite understanding exactly what the blonde girl was saying, but fully comprehending that she was no longer wanted. She slowly slipped her hand out of Charles' and started to back away. "Non, thank you. I need nothing."
Chuck shook his head and reached for Eva's hand once more, trying to pull her back towards him. "Wait," he pleaded. "I don't…" He saw that Blair, who had been silent since Eva's arrival, was looking at him with an exquisite pain in her eyes. There was a wrenching in his gut, and he didn't want to finish his sentence for fear of hurting her further. But there was no remedy. He couldn't go into uncharted territory without any armor, and besides, it wasn't fair to just cut Eva out without so much as a goodbye. She had saved his life, after all.
"I want her to come, too," he finally concluded, feeling Eva relax a little by his side. Despite his declaration, he couldn't tear his eyes away from Blair, trying to carefully gauge her reaction. Her shoulders sagged a little, but she wore a tight, haughty smile that her eyes couldn't quite match. She looked almost defiant, like she was daring him to feel an ounce of pity. Looking her over, he agreed that pity would be doing her a disservice – she didn't need it. She was ready to take on anything.
"So… I guess that's settled?" Nate ventured after the appropriate awkward pause had lapsed. "Should we leave this afternoon?"
Chuck nodded without even looking at the boy who was speaking. "I suppose the sooner the better. My … mom must be worried." The word sounded so strange on his tongue that he had to take a moment to savor it. "Will we be able to get tickets?"
At such a ridiculous question, Nate had to laugh. "You're Chuck Bass, man. You don't need tickets."
Chuck thought he might like the sound of that.
Chuck and Nate sat together on the veranda outside of Cyrus and Eleanor's apartment, drinking scotch while they waited for the girls to finish packing. If there was one thing Chuck knew for certain after his three months of being nobody, it was that he loved scotch. Nate, meanwhile, had barely touched his glass in his enthusiasm for explaining Chuck's life to him.
"—Now, I don't know that I can tell you all that much, you know, until we've seen doctors and know more about your condition. But I do think it's safe to tell you that we've been best friends since we were kids. We met on the playground, actually. The monkey bars. You were wearing a bowtie, and I instantly knew you were cool."
Chuck furrowed his brows and let out a snort. "A bowtie? I sound like a very strange person." As an afterthought, he added, "Was it at least purple?"
Nate shook his head, still chuckling at the memory. "Nah, you didn't wear purple yet then."
This statement piqued Chuck's interest, and he decided to press further. "There was a particular time after which I wore purple? What made me start?"
His supposed best friend fumbled uncomfortably with his collar for a few seconds before replying. "I don't … I don't remember, actually." His frightened eyes told Chuck a different story, though.
"My brain isn't literally going to explode because of the information you're sharing, Nathaniel," he rolled his eyes. "I think you're safe." Nate's eyeballs looked like they were about to fall out of his sockets at that statement, and his mouth was slightly agape. "…Did I say something wrong?"
"You—" Nate stuttered to get the words out. "You just called me Nathaniel."
"Isn't that your name?" Chuck asked, confused. "Nate is short for Nathaniel, right?"
Nate hesitated once more, running his fingers through his hair nervously. "Yeah, it is. But no one calls me that … except you."
Unable to decide whether that bit of knowledge should excite or frustrate him, he put both options out of his head and changed the subject. "So, Serena's my sister, huh? Is it wrong, then, that I find her attractive?"
Nate laughed loudly, thankful for a reminder of the Chuck that once was. "She's your step-sister, actually. Well, adopted sister. So … it's only a little wrong. Still illegal, though."
"Was I adopted or was she? Or is our mom Angelina Jolie or something? Because that would simultaneously suck and be awesome."
Crap. Now he was back to the same Bart problem as before. How could he talk about Chuck's family without telling him his father was dead, his mother died in childbirth (and/or was a con artist who slept with his uncle and stole his hotel), and he'd recently slept with his other step-sister and alienated everyone around him? "Um…" He struggled for something witty to say, but wit had never been his strong suit. Eventually, he tried to go for the nicest truth as possible. "Her mother adopted you while she was married to your father. Which is pretty rare in our world, so you know she really likes you. Usually on the UES, our parents just marry each other constantly but never even bother to learn our names."
Chuck let that sink in for a moment. Serena had referred to her mother as "mom" as if she belonged to both of them, but she wasn't really his mom. He wondered how close they were, if he lived with her, or what he even called her when they spoke. And where was his father, come to think of it? Instead of bombarding Nate with questions, though, he thought he'd give the poor guy a break and move on. "So what's Blair, then? Don't tell me she's my cousin."
Nate gave him a half-smile and carefully thought out his response. "She's … She's Serena's best friend, and the four of us have been close since we were kids. She and I thought we'd be getting married when we are, ah, little. But that didn't end up being the case." He noticed Chuck fixing him with an intense gaze and wondered if bringing up marriage was a bad idea. He wasn't even sure what possessed him to say it in the first place – he had just wanted to avoid the topic of ChuckandBlair. Would it cause Chuck to go into anaphylactic shock and remember all sorts of horrible things? Or maybe he was just jealous.
"Wait. You and Blair are together?" Chuck didn't like the idea of Blair and Nate at all. That wasn't what it had looked like to him at the airport, anyway.
"No, no," Nate backtracked immediately. "We dated when we were kids, which is how you and I first became close to Blair and Serena. The relationship didn't work out, but we were all already stuck with each other at that point."
"So…" Chuck struggled with how to phrase the question; especially knowing now that Blair had been with is best friend, apparently. Not that he should care, since he had a girlfriend already. "Who is she to me, then? Just my best friend's ex-girlfriend and my sort-of sister's best friend?"
Nate sighed and rubbed his temples. Explaining the past was very stressful. "You and Blair… It's probably something you should ask Blair about." And right after he said that, he thought better of it. "Although maybe you should wait to ask. You and Blair….Whatever that is, it's recent." He looked searchingly at Chuck, as if expecting to find some subconscious clue on his face. "And you're with Eva now, anyway. You probably shouldn't complicate things."
Complicated. So that's what he and Blair were, huh? Chuck didn't think he'd be able to follow Nate's advice, as much as he might appreciate its value. He just had to know why Blair felt so important to him.
Blair was sitting alone in her room, staring at her empty suitcases, when a light tapping on the door broke her out of her reverie. "Come in," she called without thinking.
Chuck stepped across the threshold with trepidation, fearing she might rescind her invitation as soon as she saw his face and then banish him from her quarters like some kind of vampire. Her eyes widened upon seeing him, but since she didn't say anything to indicate he was unwelcome, he pressed on.
"I was wondering if we could talk for a little bit?" He asked, and she replied with a simple nod of her head before scooting over on the bed to make room for him. He took that as a good sign and sat down next to her, reveling in her closeness and wondering how it was possible to feel so overwhelmed by someone you didn't even know.
Blair watched Chuck silently as he sat down next to her, trying to rally all her strength. Having him so close to her was intoxicating – she couldn't tell whether she wanted to strangle him or kiss him. Unfortunately, she couldn't do either one in this situation, and it was killing her. He hadn't belonged to her in three months and apparently had a girlfriend; so kissing him was out of the question. And if she started letting out all her anger and frustrations, he would have no idea what she was talking about. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying in front of him.
He wished Blair would say something, but she obviously wasn't going to give him an inch. In the midst of trying to form the right words, he sensed his hand creeping over to hold hers and was powerless to stop it. Their fingers interlocked for what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality only a few short seconds, before Blair leapt up off the bed and glared at him angrily.
"What do you think you're doing?" She practically screeched, clutching her hand as if it had been burned. She couldn't wait to get back to NYC, because she didn't think she could stand being in close quarters with him for one minute more.
"I just…" Chuck slowly stood up as well and walked towards her like one might approach a frightened gazelle. He didn't want her to run off, but he needed her to understand him. He needed her to tell him what was going on. "I want to know why I feel this way when I see you," he confessed.
"Feel…what way?" Blair stood as still as a deer in headlights. This couldn't be happening already, could it? Chuck always broke into her life the second she thought she might be healing from him. It was a vicious cycle; one that the Basstard continued even when he didn't even know there was a cycle. It was programmed into him like a biological imperative, obviously.
"Like if I stop looking at you, there won't be anything left to look at." He couldn't believe he was saying something so ridiculous, but it felt good to be talking about something concrete, something he knew was a part of him, rather than asking a million questions about things and people he knew nothing about. "I see you, and I feel happy," he explained. "But then I see you looking at me, and I feel miserable." He reached for her hands one more time with a fiery look in his eyes. "Please just tell me what there is between us."
Blair didn't pull away this time, but instead attempted to match his gaze with her own steely conviction. "There is nothing between us anymore," she declared. "Maybe there was once, but there's not anymore. Last I checked, we were both trying to move on from it." She felt the rage building inside her and fought the urge to scream and kick and curse his name to the skies. Why couldn't he just leave it alone? She wished he would just call his PI, read their history in some files and then never speak to her again.
Chuck's face morphed into such a mask of pain that she was left breathless. He released her momentarily to brush his thumb across her cheek. She was about to ask what he the hell he was doing, but then she realized she was wiping away a stray tear and closed her eyes from embarrassment. Suddenly, she was wrapped up in his arms as he stroked her hair, her tears being soaked up by his suit. "I am so sorry, Blair," he whispered reverently, and she knew he meant it.
"What are you sorry for?" She asked him, her voice muffled due to her position. She didn't know what answer she was expecting, but her heart couldn't stop racing. It's not like he'd be able to say what she wanted to hear (maybe something along the lines of I'm so sorry I ever thought my business/pride/father meant more than my love for you), but her stupid fairytale imagination was hoping he might have had a medical breakthrough in the last three and a half minutes.
"I'm so sorry for whatever I did to hurt you," he replied, pulling away to face her once more. "I wish I could take it all back," he promised insistently, "but … I don't know how. I don't know what I did." There was a silent plea in his words: Help me. Show me what I did, so I can fix it.
Blair let out the breath she was holding and felt herself grow cold all over. "That's exactly the problem," she told the stranger before her as calmly as she could manage. "Even if you did remember, you'd still say exactly the same thing." She gestured briefly to the door and let him see his way out.