Chapter Ten
I'm sorry.
Blair Waldorf was starting to hate that word.
She stood at the front of the church, "helping" the Humpreys and the Van der Woodsens greet well wishers, and after the 10th "I'm sorry for your loss", she was getting tired of having people feel sorry for her. She was so tired that she didn't even mind the sight of Jenny Humphrey standing next to Eric right across her on the stairs.
Lily was cool and composed as usual, but unlike how she was at Bart's funeral, Blair knew that behind her dark glasses were eyes red from tears. Serena lay a supporting hand on her mother's shoulder every opportunity she could, while Rufus spoke quietly to a stoic, pale-faced Eric who barely reacted. Dan. Well, Dan was just as awkward as ever. He probably felt like he should belong somewhere else.
I'm sorry, said Dr Harding when the news came. We did everything we could.
I'm sorry, he said again, because in the end, it just wasn't enough.
I'm sorry, said Dan Humphrey. "I knew he meant a lot to you."
Abruptly, she turned away from the latest well wisher and marched into the church. The large hall was barely filled, and most of the attendees preferred to sit as far away from the coffin as possible.
Only one person dared. He sat at the first row, his head buried in his hands. He didn't react at all when she stood by his side.
Nate was there when it happened. He said that Chuck finally woke up and Nate had been overjoyed, thinking that Chuck had finally emerged from the illness, ready to take on the land of the living again. Instead, Chuck just smiled, said Nate. And then, he was just gone.
That didn't make sense. No one just woke up and died like that, she thought.
"Nate," she said shortly.
He finally looked up. He didn't look as if he slept at all. His stubble was just a step away from being a beard, and his eyes were bloodshot and dull.
"Hey, Blair," he said almost casually. Judging from the whiff of alcohol she caught, he'd been drinking himself to a stupor.
And then he said something strange. "He's waiting for you, Blair." He gestured clumsily at the coffin. She stared at the pearl-white box perched on the marble altar and flinched.
"I ..." she trailed off.
"You didn't get to say goodbye. When you heard that he died, you just stayed away. This is your last chance to see him before ..." he looked away, unable to finish the sentence.
She found herself walking towards the coffin, and when she was finally there, looking down at the thing that was formerly Chuck Bass, she couldn't stop the flood of despair and agony that flooded her being.
The caretakers had managed to wipe away the traces of illness from his face with a few deft strokes and well-chosen colours of make-up. Gone was the sallow skin, the lines of pain and the gauntness of his last few days on Earth.
They did good work.
She reached out with shaking hand to touch his cheek and felt the icy cold of his skin through her thin, black gloves. She shuddered, pulled her hand away and closed her eyes, shuddering and sobbing softly. She didn't know how long she just stood there with her eyes close and trying hard to stifle her sobs. When she finally managed to gather herself, she told herself to turn away lest she lose control again, but she found herself looking at him again.
She frowned when she saw the marks on his skin. Did she somehow managed to smudge the make-up the caretakers had painstakingly applied on him? She gently brushed the smudges away, only to frown at the white powder that came away on her black gloves. Confused, she returned her gaze to his face. The smudges were gone – only to be replaced by a ghastly finger-shaped indent, like someone had scooped a piece of his ashy-white flesh out.
She stumbled back in shock, but she watched in horror as the indent grew deeper and deeper, and she heard a sound – like sand running through a funnel. And she watched, horrified, as the indent became a hole, and the side of his face caved in and collapsed into shapeless white ash, until all that was left in the coffin was ash.
Blair awoke with a strangled cry. But even awake she could feel the icy horror and numbing despair of seeing Chuck in the coffin, disintegrating into ash.
She lay in the bed, frozen, for long, breathless moments, scrambling around desperately in her mind trying to figure out if his death was a dream or reality. Then, she heard the shower running, recognised the room in the Aquitaine that she and Serena were sharing and closed her eyes in relief.
Shakily, she sat up and then got to her less-than-steady feet. Quietly, she walked to her luggage and quickly took off her nightgown and struggled with shaking hands to put on a pair of slacks and a blouse. She grabbed her handbag, and ran out, determined to see for herself that Chuck was really alive.
GG – GG – GG
It definitely wasn't something you'd like to see first thing in the morning.
Especially after stumbling home from the hospital around 2am in the morning, trying your darnest to sleep but failing, and then giving up at 6am by rolling out of bed so that you could head to the hospital after breakfast. And that is if you have any stomach for breakfast.
Lily van der Woodsen wasn't the sort of woman given to extreme displays of emotion. Cool, collected, composed – trained to be the perfect WASP princess from the crib – she was told that it was her destiny to be looked up to, so she needed to look the part. At least, that's what her mother said for as long as she could remember. Lily may say that she no longer bought such silly aristocratic talk, but one can't erase decades of conditioning no matter what their belief.
For Lily, only two things could crack her perfect composure: Rufus and her children.
Today, she may just add lousy journalism to the list.
"I'm going to sue that paper so hard that none of their editors will keep their jobs when I'm done with them!" She threw the offending publication to the ground so forcefully that it scattered apart. Rufus rubbed his bleary eyes, picked up the pieces and immediately saw a photo of Chuck – the usual publicity photo Bass Industries gave out – on the front page..
"Boy billionaire in critical condition" it said in bold letters on the front page of The Manhattan Gazette. Underneath the headline: Chuck Bass, heir to Bass Industries, admitted to Mercy General yesterday after collapsing from "mysterious illness".
Rufus didn't understand what Lily was so upset about until he saw a quote towards the end: A confidential source says that Bass, a known 'party boy', regularly took drugs and is a known alcoholic. "This was a party gone too far, that's all."
"Oh," he said.
And it went on to quote other sources – a patched up collage of anonymous "insiders" – about what "actually" went on that day. It was total bunk, of course, especially since it involved a cast of hookers, midget strippers and if you can believe it, clowns. It's hard to believe that people would buy this, but this "journalism" was not totally unexpected for a publication of the Gazette's "high standards".
"No one's going to take this seriously, Lily. It's the Gazette, after all," he said, tossing the paper aside like the trash it was.
"No, but it will start something. Soon, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal and God knows who else is going to poke around and ask questions about his past, and people are going to say, 'Well, there's no smoke if there's no fire'. And then there's that blog –"
"Lily –"
"And I have a sneaky feeling I know who this 'confidential source' is," she said tersely.
"Jack Bass?" He wouldn't be surprised if Chuck's uncle would stoop to such low levels of immaturity and pettiness.
She made a sound of disgust. "I've already received three calls from members of the board, asking about 'damage control'. There's no damage to control, Rufus! He's sick! Everyone gets sick, only he was unfortunate enough to get shot and get sick! God, I'm babbling," she said morosely as she sank into a sofa.
Rufus didn't know what to say. All he could do was sit next to her and wrap his arms around her. She welcomed it, and sank into his embrace.
"I don't want to deal with this now, Rufus. Not when Charles is … like this. I should be by his side instead of dealing with the press and stuffy board members who are more worried about their wallets than Charles' well-being."
"Talk to the press. Give them an ultimatum. Tell them you don't tolerate such idiocy. Isn't that what interim heads do?" he was only half kidding, but Lily's eyes lit up. She looked at him in wonder.
"Of course. You're right, Rufus. And I'm going to call the lawyers too."
He grinned. "You're hot when you're authoritative, did I tell you that?"
She laughed and gave him a slow, lingering kiss.
GG – GG – GG
Aquitaine Hotel
What's this I hear about a party gone south? It seems that a certain Bass-hat has ended up somewhere he shouldn't be, though with all the nurses in short skirts – it may not be such a bad deal for our favourite Upper East Side manwhore. – XOXO, Gossip Girl
"That bitch!"
It was the roar heard around the Upper East Side, but it was not yelled by the usual suspect. Serena, who was carefully nursing a cup of bad coffee, was startled enough to nearly splash it on the white Christian Dior blouse she bought just a few months ago in Paris. Oddly, Dorota saw it fit to pack all the clothes she bought from that fateful trip where she found Chuck, which meant that she had mostly cocktail dresses and formal clothes to wear to the hospital.
"We have to do something about this, Serena!" Eric said hotly, shaking his cell before her face.
Serena, who still haven't gotten over seeing her brother burst into flames like that, batted it away and sighed. "Eric, we tried taking down Gossip Girl two years ago, and look what happened. We don't need her drama right now, and Chuck certainly doesn't need his secrets out – especially now."
"What, are you talking the incident in Prague?"
"The gunshot wound? Yes. I mean, I don't think Gossip Girl knows, but this is really personal to Chuck, and it's better to be safe. The last thing we need right now is papparazzi hanging around the hospital."
"I think you may be a little late, Serena." Nate strolled into the living room, finally out of his rumpled suit and now dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans. After they've all dragged a reluctant Blair back to the Aquitaine, he managed to get an hour of sleep and freshen up, but he still looked as if he needed a few more hours of shut eye. Blair had enough foresight to book a three-room suite for them, but they spent most of the time sitting in the hall, staring at each numbly and sleepless with worry. Serena suspected that Blair didn't even sleep.
He switched on the television, and they watched, transfixed, at the sight of reporters swarming the front of Mercy Hospital.
"Oh, just great," Eric grumbled.
"Does Blair know?" she said, alarmed.
"Serena. Blair already left," Eric said.
"What?"
"She left when you were showering, Serena," Eric said.
Serena quickly grabbed her coat and handbag.
"Hey, Serena wait – it's mom!" Eric suddenly yelled.
They watched as Lily, with Rufus at her side, stepped in front of the camera, looking regal yet positively incensed.
"This morning, a certain publication insinuated that my step-son, Charles, was in this hospital because of drugs. As chairman of Bass Industries, I think the report was scurrilous and irresponsible and so far from the truth that they will be hearing from my lawyers soon," she said tersely.
"Yay, mom," Serena said softly. Now, if only she could take down Gossip Girl too….
"The truth – and I will repeat this once only – is that Charles was admitted to the hospital because of a serious infection. He nearly died yesterday because of this ..." her voice wobbled, then she took a deep breath. " … and to have some irresponsible reporter libel him while he is lying in a hospital bed recovering is more than I can stand. Now, I would appreciate it if the media would give us space – as a family – to attend to Charles in private. That is all, thank you."
She turned away from the cameras and ignored the chorus of questions and together with Rufus and an entourage of intimidating people in suits – guards? – behind her blocking their way, she entered the hospital.
"I think it's time we join them, don't you?" Serena said.
"You're getting no argument from me," Eric said as he hurried to the lift.
GG – GG – GG
The ICU nurse took pity on her and allowed her to enter his room 15 minutes before visiting hours officially began.
The first thing she noticed was how noisy it was in his room. Beeps intersped with the hiss of the respirator. Yet, amidst all this electronic noise was a deafening stillness that she felt desperate to banish. So, she spoke to him as she watched his chest rise and fall in a perfectly timed, mechanical rhythm.
"You won't believe the paparazzi camped outside this place," she said, brushing his hair absently. "I thought they came out from the cracks in the sewers only when someone got arrested or had sex with a minor."
She frowned. "Oh wait, you did do that," she said lightly.
Nothing. Just the beep-hiss of the machines.
"This isn't the way I pictured how we'd spent our lives a year after that day when you said I love you, Chuck."
She paused, watching him breathe.
She shook her head, and her vision blurred as her tears reemerged. "Chuck, it's been nearly seven hours since your surgery. Isn't it about time you just open your eyes and stop torturing me?"
Listen to her. She sounded like some crazy person. Which was fitting, because she felt half way there already.
She leaned her aching head against her hand.
"I can't do this," she said softly.
Blair sniffed, steeled herself and reached out for his hand.
"Please wake up, Chuck," she said softly. "Because I may hate you but not having you in my world … it's just not going to be the same."
No reaction.
"Do you hear me?" she whispered softly.
Somewhere inside, she hoped he heard her.
"I am going to stay here, by your side, until you open your eyes Chuck Bass," she said, blinking away her tears. "Because you're not getting away that easily. Do you hear me? You're not going to get away easy. Not from Blair Waldorf."
Sighing, she clutched his hand in hers and leaned her forehead against their clasped hands.
GG – GG – GG
Notes: Man, sorry for being late with this update! Work has been insane.
Annablake: You know, I have to say season 2 was a turn off for me because of the whole "will they say I love you" thing. I don't like being toyed with, but after a second viewing I understood why they did what they did, but both were so incredibly immature when it came to handling it! But the crazy storylines: Nate 3.0, Ellen, made me wonder: What the eff happened to the writers of the glorious season one? As a fanfic writer I try my best to reconcile these stories and write the characters believably, but it's sure tough!
But I'm a sucker for romantic declarations, and how Chuck did it in the end was rather perfect. And that smile! He just doesn't smile enough :)
miss-Tami-bass wrote: Wait...what does Jenny mean by "she(Jenny) wants to 'know' Chuck better?"
Ah, I don't remember writing such a sentence in the story. She only told Eric that she wanted Chuck to get better, and she wanted to know if he knew about her that at least. She was more concerned about what Eric thought of her than anything else. Hope this helps.
Thank you folks, for the beautiful reviews. Many made me think! Keep them coming folks.
My, how time flies. The premiere is fast approaching and my deadline for this story is fast arriving as well. Wish me luck!